Back-to-School Domestic Dramedy: Missing Assignments, PowerSchool Dings, and a Mom Meltdown
I’m sitting at work when my phone starts blowing up with alerts from PowerSchool (the school’s grade system). Missing assignment – F. Missing assignment – F. Another ding—yep, you guessed it. F. It was like my cell had turned into a slot machine from Vegas, except the prize was academic despair.
By the third week of school, my 13-year-old son Spencer already has four missing assignments—all showing up as big fat F’s. And here’s the kicker: he did the work. He just didn’t turn it in. Or he blamed me for “losing” a paper that had clearly been crumpled into the black hole of his bookbag. Four missing assignments later: BAM. Zeros across the board.
And then—this is where I lost it—a missing homework assignment in ART. Yes, ART! He’s had the same teacher for three years. The homework routine hasn’t changed: due every Friday by 11:59 p.m. He knows this. He just… didn’t.
Just when I thought I had collected all the F’s, here comes a D on the first math test. That one threw me. His classwork had been all 100s, and he swore he knew the material. Now, you have to understand—math has never been his strong suit. Last year, he barely survived with the help of a tutor. And that’s fine. I don’t expect him to be a mathlete. I just ask him to tell me when he’s struggling so we can nip it in the bud before it snowballs like last year. But to see a D and hear him insist, “Everything is fine,” was… not fine.
So now my phone is dinging like a fire alarm: Spanish. Social Studies. ART. Oh my. Every subject, every missed assignment, every notification sent my blood pressure climbing like it was training for the Olympics.
I immediately screenshot the grades and text him: “Turn this in. What’s going on? Do the math test corrections. Let me help you get organized.” (Yeah… like he’d ever let me. That boy would rather eat brussels sprouts than admit he needs help organizing.)
After school, he sees my text and fires back with typical 13-year-old sass: “I’m working on it. You ripped off the sign sheet from the syllabus so I can’t find it.” (For the record, I signed it and handed it right back to him. But sure, let’s blame Mom.)
And then comes the guilt. He thinks all I do is nag him about school—because, truth be told, he hates school. I just want him to understand how important it is. But instead, I lose my cool, he gets frustrated, and we’re stuck in the same old loop.
HELP.
I’m caught in this tug-of-war between not wanting to be a helicopter mom—but also not wanting to sit back while my son tanks his grades over something so preventable. He’s 13. He’s a boy. He needs to learn responsibility, but he also still needs guidance.
Communication is its own circus. When he’s at his dad’s, it’s mostly text messages—half read, half ignored, with plenty of eye-roll emojis sprinkled in. Meanwhile, Scott (my husband/stepdad MVP) warns me to back off a little and let the little things go. But homework and Fs? They don’t feel little.
So here’s my question for you, fellow parents: How far do you let your kids fail before you step in?
Do I hover, remind, double-check every paper? Or do I let him learn the hard way and hope he figures out the value of responsibility before his GPA does permanent damage?
Parenting doesn’t come with a manual—just late-night prayers, gut checks, and trial by fire. Right now, my fire is a bottomless bookbag, a stack of Fs, and a cell phone that won’t stop dinging.
Help a mom out: What’s your rule for stepping in vs. letting them fail? Drop your wisdom (and your war stories) in the comments—I need them.
God trusts us with our kids, but He also gives us the freedom to stumble, learn, and grow. Maybe the hardest part of parenting is extending that same grace to our kids—even when it comes with F’s and sass.
📖“Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.” — Proverbs 22:6
