Ferdinand got his report card and it was a shock to the both of us. He was sure it would have been better, couldn’t understand it, went from “what the heck” to the dumps, where he stayed for the rest of the night.
I am about the worst person you could ask over to help in that situation. I am Signora Subjective in heavy shoes that are hard to move with a hearing aid on the blink and bags of the past that I carry around loosely packed like a load of coal in badly woven fishnet.
I start out with determination and good intentions, “don’t worry about it. I know it’s hard. Grades aren’t everything, look at the nice comments.:
and end up saying things like
“but were you listening?
were you thinking about what you wanted to do or what the teacher wanted you to do?
you love school, don’t tell me you don’t love school”
and the worst:
“you can sit there and feel sorry for yourself or you can do something about it. You can set goals.”

Try telling that to somebody who has just burnt the turkey for instance. It’s not the right time to be the heavy with issues.