Maybe I Wasn't Always Totally Bitchin' at Homework, Either.

I was amazed at all the comments yesterday from other parents commiserating and offering advice or just words of experience and consolation on the subject of kids and homework. It seems to be a pretty sensitive subject that deserves more looking into.

And since my vlog is still not ready and won't be posted until 2 a.m. tonight (sorry to lead you on yesterday! ;-), I thought I might offer some insight that I gained from all the great comments.

First, let me just clarify that though I was blessed with an aptitude for getting good grades in school, I was far from stellar as an early grade-schooler. In fact, in third grade (the grade that CC is in) I suffered from a stomach ailment that mysteriously only surfaced during math period. Me and Helen, the school nurse, were likethis that year. So much so, that I can't remember her last name. Because I was on a first-name basis with her! If my stomach didn't ache, I would have temporary bouts of diarrhea. All because multiplication and division threw me for a loop I was not expecting. I couldn't figure it out!! I was appalled with myself and embarrassed that I couldn't get it and was too scared to deal with it by asking the teacher to work more with me or to ask my parents for extra help. It seems pretty silly, in retrospect. But I was 8 years old, whatcha gonna do?!

I really should've flunked math that year. And I would've if I hadn't been the teacher's pet in all things that had to do with English, spelling, and creative writing. (I still have a treasured haiku somewhere that my precious little self wrote about where the butterflies go when it rains *aaaaw*.) The price I ended up paying for my foray into psychosomatic math-induced illness was having to attend the dreaded "math trailer" for the entirety of my 4th grade year, where I attended remedial math with the other dunderheads that couldn't hack it when things got tougher than addition and subtraction.

As it turned out, that year in the math trailer made all the difference because not only did I finally figure it out, I actually got a lot of my confidence back while becoming slightly more empathetic to the kids who struggled with issues in the class. I was probably still a little bitch to most of them, though, so don't go sainting me or anything. ;-)

So, what brought about this admission of my own fallibility as a young student? A comment from A Mouthy Irish Woman?! What?? got me thinking when she responded, like my nine year old, with the comment "Studying is stupid. Shit." I read a big emphasis on the "is" and was like -DOH!- of course it IS. I am just galled and annoyed to no end that my son has the balls to bring his homework home and say "STUPID HOMEWORK! I'M NOT GOING TO DO IT!!!" and then stomping to his room and slamming the door, he will crumple it up in a fury and throw it across the room. It is kind of adorable when he brings the paper back to me all straightened out and explains defiantly that it "looks like that because I crumpled it all up because I hate it so much."

I had to admit I used to feel that way, too. Only, I turned all that anger and frustration into a tight little ball of misery in my guts. Honestly, boys are so freaking different. How am I going to make it through the really moody times ahead when I've got three adolescent young men on my hands!!??

p.s. The caption for that photo, provided by a facebook buddy, is "That's the Amy I remember, lockstep with everyone else." ;-)

p.p.s. Swear to blog, the vlog will be up tomorrow!!