I’m doomed. Not a little doomed. Alotta doomed. Because you see, I do not think I can help my children with homework.
I have a degree in Elementary Education. I have a Master’s degree in Gifted Education. I taught children for over 10 years. So, I should have “the skillz,” right? No. No, I do not have the skills.Our precious and perfect preschool sent home some worksheets last week. They are completely age appropriate and wonderful. I thought The Trifecta would blow a gasket of excitement when they saw them. They did not.
So, last week I fought the power. We didn’t complete the worksheets. I put them in a special stack. For “later.” Today, I opened their take home folders to find a “letter F” handwriting sheet. I know this is totally suitable as most of the children in The Trifecta’s class are already writing their letters like total champions. We’re a little behind the curve. I sent a trusted and dear soul sister (you know I’m talking about you, Lexie Harding) a “911” text message: Are these worksheets homework? Do we have to return them to school? Are you doing them?
I just knew she would tell me she was using them as a coloring sheet and then I would be safe. But instead she replied: You don’t have to return them. I’m doing them for kindergarten prep.I cursed inside my brain. “Girls!” I exclaimed, “Look! Homework! I’m so excited! Let’s practice the letter F together!”
Baby A came obediently to the table. Baby B continued to jump from sofa cushion to sofa cushion in her underwear. She was chanting something about yoga. She totally didn’t even hear me. Baby C looked me dead in the eyes. “Mommy,” she said, “I am NOT doing homework.” No problem. I have a Master’s degree. I know how to do this. I’ll start with the child who is eager to complete the work. Baby A. Then I will snap Baby B out of her self-induced imaginative coma. She’ll like it once we get started. I’ll conclude with Baby C. It might take some bribing, but she’ll do it.
I sat down with Baby A. 20 minutes later we finished. I was sweating. I also think I threw up in my mouth a little. So that is when I gave up for the day. Babies B and C will not succeed in life and probably have to live with us forever. But 33.3333% is not a terrible rate of return. How do you people do it out there? How do you keep from having a nervous breakdown during homework time? Why do they have to grow up and do all this hard stuff? Can’t they just stay little and jump on sofa cushions in their underwear?
So that is when I decided; we are moving to the mountains, we will raise goats, we will plant corn, and also we will make our own soap.
