Gomer is going into seventh grade in a couple weeks. Seventh. Grade. When did my sweet, cuddly, mild-mannered preschooler get replaced with a perpetually bored, eye-rolling, snarky man-boy?
Last year was his first year of middle school and we talked with him a lot about how that was his year to mess up and figure stuff out on his own. Of course, we'd be there for him if he had something major going on, but he could no longer count on Mommy and Daddy to bring forgotten homework to the school or talk to a teacher about a grade he didn't agree with. We weren't going to pester him about homework or tests. If he wanted us to help him, we would, but we weren't going to micromanage him the way we did in elementary school. It was time for the baby bird to stand up a little bit on his own.