Who Said Summer was Supposed to be Fun?

So it's September now. How did that happen, exactly? And so much for my brilliant plan for A* to have a lazy laid-back summer. This was simply not in the cards. And in my defense (because yes, it is true, I do feel a need to defend myself as a direct result of my obsessiveness to date), not all of it was my doing. First he wanted to take the three-week Calculus prep class offered by Newton North. No, really, it's true, so let me repeat: he wanted to take it. For the last year he bristled at being placed in the second-to-highest math class. It completely altered his world view. Plus it was too easy. He was bored. And how angry were we at ourselves as parents not to be his advocate and insist that he get placed in the top class.

This parenting business is tough, and there are times when it's simply too embarrassing to join the hordes of others in the school pounding down doors to counselors' offices railing against injustices done to little darlings. Enough already. Since we did nothing, he did, and arranged to take the summer class. If he attended the class, received an A on the final, then he could take senior Calculus. Well, he did and he did. Mission accomplished, and one month of summer gone.

Then there was the essay--ah yes, the college essay. At the behest/insistence of Alison, his most able college coach, the summer was the time to write the essay, not the fall when everything else hits hard. So he wrote and rewrote and revised and revised. Parents and grandparents proclaimed it perfect. Alison also proclaimed it perfect, but long by almost half. "Cut 400 words and you're golden," she said. But, but . . . But we did. (I admit it, we helped with the edits.) Another two weeks of summer, gone.

Then there were the driving classes. Oh God, the driving classes. Fifteen two-hour classes. To which he has to be driven. And picked up. Many mind-numbing sessions later, he's completed 11 of the 15 required. Driving is going to have to take a back seat for a while.

And finally, there was the A+ exam. Again, not my idea. After taking the computer repair and support class at North, A* got it into his head that he wanted to get the A+ professional certification. He thought it would be cool. What wasn't cool was the 1,000-page plus study guide he had to master. The thing was heavy. And huge. We felt fortunate that we weren't required to buy an extra seat for it on the airplane to Anguilla. We stayed quiet on this one. Shook our heads with concern when he eschewed snorkeling on the beaches in favor of deep diving into the text. Paid the $300 exam fee (gulping hard, I admit, but grateful that he hadn't asked us to fork over the $4,500 they were asking for a one-week review session (note to reader and any in-laws who may be reading: We would have said "no.")), and drove him to the testing center on the appointed morning. Honestly, I didn't expect him to pass. Honestly, I don't think he expected to pass--at least not both the hardware and the software sections. But he did. When he called asking to be picked up he seemed almost confused when he told me he'd passed both parts. He was still processing. It wasn't until later in the day that he turned giddy. Deservedly so. And now summer is behind us and he's one week into senior year. No pressure, but he knows he needs to get straight A's this term. But who said senior year was supposed to be fun?