Connor loves math. In his Christmas letter to his teacher, he told her that. I think the letter was something like "Merry Christmas, Mrs. H. I love math. Love, Connor".
The first time he had a math test, he aced it, and there was a note on it instructing me to "celebrate Connor". I then asked Connor about the test and he proceeded to tell me from memory every question on the test. My next thought was, if the test was so easy you memorized it, it's hardly worth celebrating. So as not to be a total Scrooge, I told him he could pick what game our family played that night. He thought that was pretty groovy.
At times like these, I always remember approaching my dad for a monetary reward after receiving my grade card. You see, every other person in my elementary school received money for getting A's (or at least I think they did!), typically $1 - $5. I let my dad know about this fact so he could step up his efforts in the reward department. He looked at my and dryly said "I'm not going to pay you to do something I expect you to do". Point taken. There would be no monetary reward from my dad for getting good grades. (Which is maybe where my hatred for prizes stems from - latent jealously!)
On Wednesday last week, Connor came home and told me he had another math test and he got every question right.
Me: "Did Mrs. H. tell you got every question right?"
Him: "No, my brain told me."
And then I had a meeting with Mrs. H. on Thursday to discuss his recent freak-outs, and in the course of our conversation, she told me he had scored 100 percent on his math test. She also told me she hadn't told Connor that yet. I told her, don't worry, his brain already told him that. And she was a little blown away, because apparently in class, he lacks this sort of confidence.
What gives on that front?