ust had parents evening last night. I did what I always did - allowed myself to go in with some tinge of optimism. But then I started to leaf through his books and just felt that familiar churning anxiety. Followed by a session with his teacher in which he told us how very far behind he is, as is, basically, obvious by looking at his work. He's 8, in Year 4, and probably has the writing that you'd expect of a Year 1, very scrawly, incomprehensible, spelling a jumble, and no capitals/full stops etc. Not much progress.
The trouble is, we feel like we've thrown as much as we can at it for nearly 2 years now. He goes to see a private dyslexia tutor once a week, which has been bumped up to twice this term. My husband does lots of maths with him at night, and I do spellings/reading etc. which adds up to about an hour an evening which is all we/he can take. We really, really hoped all this would help him progress, but it doesn't look like it. I came home and felt so sick I couldn't eat.
I don't know quite why I'm posting here. I think I'm looking for a fresh perspective, I suppose. I feel we've got tired and bogged down and things aren't working. He is a lovely, lovely boy, and this is getting in the way of me enjoying and appreciating that.
Thank you.