Showing posts with label homework. Show all posts
Showing posts with label homework. Show all posts

Friday, 23 February 2018

Quietly celebrating.

Yesterday evening my son came home from school, took off his tie and blazer, sat down at the table, had a snack, and did two pieces of homework. Just sat down, and did them.  Dinner followed, and then he chilled out in front of the television.

Whilst this might not seem remarkable in itself, I can tell you that in this house, it is.

For various reasons that I'm not going to go into, homework can be an issue for him - and consequently for me, too.  And if it's an issue for me, then of course it follows that that spills over into the rest of the family's lives, too.

Looking back over the last three years or so it seems as if 99% of school evenings have featured some kind of confrontation about homework.  The weekends too, if I'm honest.  I'm of the belief that if there's homework to be done it might as well be dealt with on a Friday night or a Saturday morning; that way, we can relax for the rest of the weekend.  My son, however, is of the opposite opinion; as far as he's concerned it's best ignored until the very last moment at which point, amid much shouting, stamping around, obfuscation, and wailing and gnashing of teeth, it is tortuously completed.

It's frustrating to watch; both my husband I know this is what will happen and consequently try (usually fruitlessly) to circumvent it by encouraging him to break the pattern and instead complete the tasks sooner rather than later.  Unfortunately this sensible approach is not one our child subscribes to, so the resulting confrontations often lead to the entire weekend being held hostage to the completion of the damn homework.

If your child is of a similar profile you might recognise these statements: 'In a moment...  I'll do it later... Just let me finish this lego model/chapter/episode/game/toilet trip (delete as appropriate)...' and so on.  Then, of course, when he has finished whatever it is he's using as a delaying tactic, instead of just dealing with it, he uses another.

Looking at it from the outside you might ask yourself why we don't just force him to sit down and get on with it.  I know that some of our nearest and dearest have wondered the same thing over the years, but some children, they just learn differently.  Some children are such perfectionists that they can't face their homework not because they don't want to do it, but because they can't face the possibility that they might do it wrong, so they hide, they ignore, they act out.

It's not a recipe for relaxed family life, that's for sure.

So what was different about last night?  How was he able to just get on with it, to the extent that I watched in quiet wonder and asked myself if this is how things are on a typical school night for those families whose children get less anxious when faced with their own very human imperfections?

Partly, I think, it's the fact that he's getting older and more mature, is better able to deal with the swings and roundabouts of everyday life.  Also impacting may have been the fact that the task he chose to do first was one he didn't find difficult and which, because it was online, he was given instant feedback on, so knew that he had completed it perfectly.  That buoyed him up to deal with the second task, which he was less keen on, but still able to do well.  Or perhaps he just had the right thing for lunch, or I said the right thing when I met him from school, or another of the million things that might have affected his mood.

But I don't really know; kids don't come with a manual, no matter what the parenting gurus out there might say.  And if the last few years of dealing with the fallout of my son's learning style have taught me anything, it's that we need to be grateful for those moments of calm - because there might not be another one along for a while.


Monday, 3 October 2016

The Jam Spider

It's been quiet on here for way too long.  As ever, this is not because I don't have anything to share, but rather because I have too much, none of it for public consumption.

Kids.  They have a way of stimying (sp) creativity like that.  (And how DO you spell that word, by the way?  Anyone?).

So until I find myself in a position to share my own writing, here is some of my younger son's.  He was tasked last week with writing a poem about an extraordinary discover in an ordinary place.  Of course, he told me he couldn't do it.  It was impossible, he said.  No way, he said.  But we sat, and brainstormed a few ideas, and this is what he came up with.


The Jam Spider

One morning I came downstairs.
I put some bread in the toaster
And readied my tea.
I reached for the jam jar and opened the lid.
As I did so I noticed a little spider
With sparkling red eyes.
It waved a leg as if to say,
'Some privacy please, while I finish my breakfast.'
So I had honey instead.


Monday, 14 April 2014

Bribery and Corruption, Potski Mansions-Style

It's Spring Break here for all of 1 glorious week.  I know - not long enough, but I try to console myself with the longer summer holidays we get in recompense.  Doesn't work, but I do try...

Unlike many of the families at the Boys' school (if I see one more fb posting showing pristine beaches or water parks I will be driven to... to... more chocolate, probably) we are staying put for this holiday, which is, I remind myself frequently - mainly when looking at fb - a Good Thing.  We've had a crazy start to the year, and the chance to stand still with no hard and fast schedule to maintain is welcome.

However, that does mean I am now dealing with my own preconceptions about what a school holiday should look like.  And I am nothing if not a product of my UK upbringing, so much to my sons' disgust that includes their not only getting out of pyjamas and into proper, you know, clothes, but also a minimal amount of study and even - gasp - practicing their musical instruments.  Every day.

Yes, m'lud.  Torture, cruel and unusual.

I know, I know.  Am I crazy?  But I have secret weapons in my arsenal and I'm not afraid to use them.  Namely, the promise of movie nights, the use of my laptop to access Netflix, and the indiscriminate application of popcorn during said movie.  And crucially, they don't get to choose what to watch until their tasks are done...

Wednesday, 5 September 2012

And in other news...

Both the Boys are now well and truly back in school; we're just over a week into the new term, and things seem to be settling down considerably after a summer of European nomadism.

Boy #1 is chafing a little under the yoke of daily homework but is getting on with it manfully - most of the time.  He's been given 100 multiplication questions each day this week so far, but before you gasp at a still 8 year old dealing with that AND an English comprehension exercise, you should know that they were all on the 2 x table.  Consequently, he breezed through them in less than 15 minutes which a) completely validated my efforts to keep his maths head intact over the summer, if I do say so myself and b) led to an admission on his part that actually, perhaps the time we spent doing that was not completely wasted.  That, ladies and gentlemen, is a result.

Boy #2 is now well into Grade 1 (Year 2 for those in the British system) and whilst I have yet to see evidence of homework for him, there are other ways in which he is showing his new 'grown-up' status.  Joining the local soccer league for the first time last week was one of them; if I've ever seen a small boy prouder to put on shin pads, football boots, and team strip before racing around the pitch for 40 minutes or so as one of a tight knot of players who followed the ball everywhere like flies around honey (whilst the rest of the pitch was eerily empty), I can't remember it.

There are other ways he seems to be growing up, too.  Yesterday he told me that the girls in his class use 'the kissing defence'.  I've yet to get to the bottom of this one; defence against what, I wonder?  Boys being boys?  Or are the girls in question following that old adage that the best form of defence is attack?  Who knows.  Whatever, it put me in mind of a conversation a friend had with her 5 year old son recently.

"I'm going to marry Susie" he told her seriously.  "Really, darling?  That's nice."  "Yes.  Well - she's not who I originally wanted to marry.  First I wanted to marry Paul.  But we changed our minds when we realised that if we did that, we would have to adopt."


Thankyou very much, I'll be here all week...