Each week, I pray to the homework gods that it will be a good week. I must not be making the proper sacrificial requirements since it seems to be getting harder with every passing day. Currently, the Elder Monkey has no video games for an indetermined time because he blew a gasket, a fuse and I think some vital fluid lines on a particular Tuesday two weeks ago when I said it was time to sit down and do the deed. How dare I!
Homework seems to have the opposite affect on this particular monkey than it's intended purpose. I usually do it with him since I have them in the afternoons. Which makes me as awful and hideous as that forbidden piece of paper with those squiggly things called words appears before him and out goes all manner of rational thought. But we do it and I'm sooooooooooo the devil. At the top of the hit list.
Oh, the impudence! The gall! How dare I make "i" come before "e" and other cryptic nonsense! A silent "gh" in "thought"? Bolderdash! Even and odd numbers? What whacko decided that was a good idea!? Growl, moan, mutter...
The Elder Monkey is in First Grade so it's only supposed to take all of ten minutes and sometimes ends up being over an hour. This is not all his doing of course. There are outside forces at work; the younger monkey, the dog, snacks, extremely urgent potty breaks, the younger monkey and the dog digging holes, swords, itchy clothes, poop, the younger monkey and the dog eating dirt... Goodness knows, there are battles to be fought (but not necessarily won) and treasure to be looked for (even if never found) so who needs homework!?
I know he can do it just fine and these distractions don't work on me much anymore. I have seen the proof when it clicks. He does have a point. The problem is he thinks like I do. I just went through a whole day of this stuff, why exactly do I have to do MORE? I try to steer him in the right mode of thinking. If the right motivation is presented though we get through it. As we read every night, he has still has stumbles on those boring words like "nearly" and "sometimes". But give him "sarcaphogas" and "tyrannosaurus" and his native tongue has been awakened.
Today was a good homework day. And so I make big freaking deal out of it and every one is happy for the moment. Tomorrow, however, is another Tuesday which means, writing a story of his own. He loathes long form writing with the fury of a raging bull. I am sure not to wear red on these days and make sure more erasers are on hand.
I will not be blamed for the tripping of any office fire alarms should you send burnt offerings at your hastily constructed post-it note and paperclip pyre in prayer for mercy on my meager soul. But thanks anyway.
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There is this theory about children are more like there grandparents than their parents. I have found this to be true in several instinces. What about the Monkeys?
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