Homework time...Noooo!

So as one would expect, I've spent a fair amount of time involved in overseeing my children's homework. It's safe to say that it ranks right up there with swimming lessons and band booster meetings on the enjoyment scale. No offense to swim teachers, but after dragging 9 kids to what they perceived as their certain soggy death and watching from the side as they clung to the pool's edge and their teacher's necks to avoid putting their face in the lethal water. I just don't have it in me anymore. Yes, I did it, and yes they can all swim. But it was painful.  Band booster meetings speak for themselves, amiright?

The way I see it, in 3.5 short years I will never have to help with homework again. We've come so far already. According to my supremely accurate calculations I have called words for 300 spelling test practices, I have been the whip-cracker and supply supplier for 24 dioramas, I have quizzed from hundreds of study guides on American History, Georgia State History, West Virginia State History, Kansas History, Nebraska History and World History. I have practiced English vocabulary, Spanish vocabulary and Latin Vocabulary. I have explained math skills up until about 5th grade when my abilities do not equal the task at hand. (Sorry, progeny.) So what I am trying to say is my enthusiasm may be waning a bit.

A couple of Saturdays ago, my 15 year old, who's excitement for homework matches if not surpasses
mine in the negative energy level, warned me that he would be working on a paper and would need my help.  We blocked out the appropriate amount of time-10 hours for 500-700 words. This included snacks and other avoidance activities, time for whining and complaining and throwing oneself on the floor (both of us, but not simultaneously) and went to work. The only way to start an unpleasant assignment is with a grumpy attitude which we both amply provided. He started by telling me how stupid the assignment and how mean his teacher was. I driveled on with my "The only way out of it is through it," "You can do hard things," No matter what you do in life, you'll need to be able to write," "This paper won't write itself." Then we got down to business.

 After informing me of how much his English teacher hated her students and wanted them to suffer, he explained the assignment. At that moment I realized how much his English teacher loved her students and tried to make the assignment relevant and enjoyable. He was to choose a "Life Law" from a quote by which he could live. Then he was to write about an experience from his life where he learned about or demonstrated that "Life Law."

His chosen quote was, "Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime." The experience he wrote about was camping. He related how afraid he was on his first camp out. He relied solely on his dad for survival. Slowly he learned how to put up his own tent, build a fire and cook. Eventually he went on a boy scout camp out without his dad and became one of the helpers instead of just a helpee.

What began as an intense, lets-get-this-over-with, Saturday to-do, evolved into an enjoyable sharing of feelings, experiences and tips for using more words to get your count up.  I started with a high, heavy hand, but as I remembered the pressure of writing to a minimum and maximum word standard on a predetermined topic with a deadline, I empathized and softened and disclosed my dubious essay writing beginnings.  He smiled when I suggested using "will not" instead of "won't." I recanted when I remembered that English teachers spot that old trick a mile away. On his own he thought of using "less fast" instead of "slower" (that's my boy). I impressed him with my knowledge of the word counting ability on the computer. We laughed together when we discussed the difficulty of writing a proper conclusion. I confessed that I once talked a class-mate into concluding with, "I can't really think of a conclusion for this essay so 'the end." My friend received a less than stellar grade with a red pen comment by the teacher, and I have to live with the guilt into eternity.

And then it was over. Two hours down and we had a big fat check on our list. There were 8 hours of Saturday left, and I realized that this homework assignment was some of the best bonding that had happened since there were unwatched episodes of "The Flash" on Netflix.

So I guess these homework years need to be recognized for what they are; opportunities for me to work shoulder to shoulder with my children; a chance to help with what I know, commiserate with what I don't know; develop my googlizing skills, and laugh a little bit about the struggles of being human. I recognize that my best little children friends have mostly gone out the door and won't it be funny when I'm on facebook in 3.5 years saying, "I'm bored. I wish I had someone at my house that needed help with some homework."