Month: January 2020

Homework woes

Dude! Every parent handles homework differently, don’t they? Some sit with their kiddo, ensuring a studious approach. Perhaps focused precision will help the little academic be prepared over the long haul. Other parents are engaged, but also multitasking, busy doing something else in the same room: making dinner, folding laundry, pulling their hair out….whatever. I swear some parents are at the ready, waiting to pounce should the little lovely make one tiny error. After all, an error on their part is an exact reflection on them.

There are the more sinister parents we know exist but we don’t often acknowledge-the ones who actually DO the homework with for their kiddos. You know the ones. These are the kids who seem to have the attention of the teacher(s), perhaps the entire school drools at their very existence. They often fall into two categories: kids who shine because they have so many accolades, and those who seem like a deer, caught in the crosshairs of doting adults, afraid they will be pinned by a buck shot at any moment. Those are the ones our kids complain about the most.

Me? Ha. I’m not those parents. Maybe I’m just too old school. Perhaps I need therapeutic intervention on behalf of my solitary treck through the long road of compulsory education. I do not do homework at all. I don’t review homework with my kiddos. I don’t look in their backpack. I refuse to sign homework logs. I don’t even sit and listen to them read. GASP! Sure, they read anyway, because new readers cannot help themselves! They read every darned sign we drive by, “Peep show…Mom, what’s that?” Sigh. “Don’t ask,” I lament.

“Covert parking,” is corrected to “covered” parking because I care about elocution and enunciation. I do. Jane and John no longer run because those books are not longer relevant to our kids. No. I have to listen to how Captain drawers has decided on a new adventure. I halfheartedly listen because it interests my baby, and that’s all. But, I don’t sit enthralled. I get excited that my 6 year old can read the instructions on how to insert batteries and change the channel, and do it better than I. I love that they know money means commerce and if they commit to memorize their value they can complete their own transactions sans mom. Why sit with them and watch them draw backwards dollar signs?

My kids learn because that is how the human mind is created. Ever wondered where the phrase, “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree” originated? Where else does that little precious one learn those behaviors? At least my kiddos learn positive behaviors: We do chores, lots of them; they see us reading, often (of course, learning to delight at the smell of a new-or used-book is waining as we use tablets and computer screens…meh); we make choices-good ones I hope; we are seen cooking and completing activities that interest us called hobbies; we attend activities; we try to develop relationships; we pray; and so many other things. We may occasionally pick our nose…we may get mad. We also may show our raw selves, and we ALSO talk about those things, too. Admitting we have a problem is the beginning of change, right? Well, that’s the hope I suppose.

Homework is an interesting phenomenon. Homework should reinforce what is learned in the classroom, it should not be new learning. It should not come with instructions for the parents. It should be familiar for the student, no matter the age. Homework should be a quick review, not hours long. Homework should not rob, steal, frustrate. Homework should. be. specific. not. test. driven.

And while I may seem aloof when it comes to homework, I’m far from it. I’ve actually written notes to schools and teachers about homework and written ON homework. My child will not be doing this homework because it is: new; takes too long to complete in their short evening; takes away from moments we won’t get back; does not support the curriculum; is not germaine to their life; serves no purpose; is busywork….I have a basket of reasons, I just pull one out and write it down. Can I just say, I’ve not had a good rapport with any principal? They tolerate me. I do not have to tolerate them. Why? Well, my paycheck does’t rely on whether or not test scores go up or down, and my child’s happiness doesn’t either. OH, and my smarty pants kiddos do not take the tests, either, because when homework is preparing them for tests, then it serves no purpose for their learning, and isn’t that the point of homework to begin with?

Trusting in the process

I am a planner by nature. I will sit down about once a month to plan out all sorts of things. I’ve struggled from time to time with needing to be in the know about what’s going on in life. So, when something is impossible to “plan,” I can get nervous or anxious, mostly because I can’t predict an outcome, at all.

What has been even more challenging for me is to be patient. Now, in certain finite things I guess I can say I’m patient because I know that there is an end in sight, eventually. For example, barring any unforeseen circumstances, my kids will graduation high school. This also means they will make it to adulthood and therefore become adults. I’ve already lived this idea once so far, so it’s not that I have to have stress or anxiety about it, nothing can stop time, after all. Kids aren’t kids forever. A car does get paid off, eventually. A leaky faucet can be fixed. A broken bone does heal. A cruddy winter does transition to spring.

A marriage is ongoing and will continue as such indefinitely. It doesn’t just pause, take a hiatus, move on to other ventures for a while until it suits. That’s tough. Still, it involves two people.

What do I do with my time with the Lord? How do I organize my time around life, responsibilities, and all these things I can manage when I don’t always have answers for this one thing? It’s been so hard to figure out, but I have decided that it’s much easier to simply do nothing. Now, that sounds wrong. What I have noted, though, is that if I try and work myself up into a powerful emotional state, I just get stressed out-like I have to reach that pinnacle every time I am “with” the Lord, or it’s not good, not worthy. Now, I do what I can, when I can. And, yes, I do MAKE time for Him daily: praying or reading, or studying, or worshipping…but not all three, for a specific time period, or else. I have to trust that the time I put in does pay dividends, and not anything substantive that I can “cash out” or show anyone. It’s just between me and Him. And, if I’m honest, the fruit of that time is evident with others in my life so that over time my closeness to Him draws others to that place, or at least considering that place, too :).

Trusting the process of faith, the process of relationship…of time, of commitment, of honor, of value, of hope, of trust, of need, of surrender is just so intimate, private, necessary. It’s often all I have and that’s all I can do.

What is the messiest dinner?

I hadn’t thought much about this topic until tonight.

While preparing to make tonight’s cuisine, consisting of exquisite Angus beef chuck patties, I realized that I was missing some key ingredients. Not one to be completely discouraged, and mostly due to my hidden laziness, I determined to call tonight’s dinner “deconstructed hamburgers.” What I was really missing were all the condiments: lettuce, tomato, and anything else that may be considered a required accoutrement to the aforementioned dining experience.

I was somewhat excited because I didn’t have to slice and dice. Simply cook and eat. In fact, to accompany our buns and slabs I had purchased a bag of russet’s finest doused in BBQ flavoring. I was satisfied that dinner would be quick and satisfying. To ensure I met my maternal need to feel I’m at least touching the line of healthfulness, there was a side of pineapple-always packed in water, not thick gooey juice.

Onward to the cooking apparatus. I began with a medium-high heat to get the pain nice and prepared. I used the wide pain with ridges to add the grill marks we enjoy so much. The sizzle took shape, and I added some seasonings for the extra touch. I felt I could almost rise to Bob status from the famous or not-so cartoon variety…until the first few sputters and spews of the pan erupted. Certainly there would be a few splatters to clean, I thought to myself, and soldiered on. I was only cooking six after all.

Nay, nay. The sheer volume of liquid gold that accumulated on my stovetop, counter, knobs, handles, and floor was incredible. Thankful that I thought ahead-and you’ll also thank me for this cooking tip-I had placed foil around the stovetop so that, except for immediately beyond the reach of the foil, the stove under the tender tent was relatively clean. I say relatively because undoubtedly the grease likes to bounce, as some spits were found UNDER the foil (the audacity!).

It was hard work enjoying dinner. I wanted to ensure each morsel was satisfactory, for I knew that I was going to be the Lone Ranger cleaning up the fast food kitchen nightmare that awaited me. I am almost ashamed to admit that I must’ve used 16 paper towels cleaning the grime from my floor and surfaces. They were strong towels, but deserved the graveyard, and I just couldn’t face cleaning another thing after cleaning….

The outdoor grill sits a mere 10 paces away from my kitchen. If it weren’t 35 degrees outside I might’ve just grilled out there and closed the lid on a gloriously shiny mess.