Buzzkill
Last night I had a dream that Bryon and I were trying to give Sam a chainsaw as a gift. Not just a chainsaw but one that was always running. We kept trying to force him to hold it, and we were hurt and a little angry that Sam did not want to.
As I lay in bed this morning listening to the house wake up, I thought about what that dream might mean. I came to the conclusion that it symbolizes our approach to homework. It may sound like a stretch, but let me explain.
Every Monday Sam brings home a packet of homework. Each day he's expected to complete a couple of pages. Now I have tried to make homework time comfortable and enjoyable. We sit at the kitchen table together, no distractions, and work through his pages. But, more often than not, it is such a beating.
I don't know if it is typical for a kid Sam's age, but he can't focus on anything seriously for more than a couple of minutes. To top it off, he isn't the least bit concerned about how well he does his work. Is he supposed to be? I don't know, but most of his homework sessions end up with one of us lecturing him about taking school seriously and doing his best, giving his all. No wonder he hates to do homework. I know how I'd feel if my boss lectured me every time I completed a project.
When I realized his homework was venturing into actual reading I bought him a beginning reader book. One day this week we sat down to read it. It was like being a contestant on that classic TV show Password. If the word was 'bedtime,' for example, he'd yell, "bark, ball, basket, blueberry, buddy." I tried to be patient.
For today's homework Sam was supposed to decorate a penguin. He said he wanted to use black and silver glitter. Great, I thought. But when he was finished it looked like someone had poured bottles of trashy nail polish all over the poor penguin. Sam was fine with that. Bryon and I were not. Do you tell him he needs to work a little harder? Do you sigh a little when you see his nail polish penguin in the hall at school next to the penguin with a quilted tummy and real feathers on its back?
Like many parents I want my kids to be smart and athletic and talented. And wouldn't it be great if they just happened to show a proclivity for the piano, soccer or geometry? Wouldn't that somehow make their lives easier and better?
So back to the dream. We think we are being helpful and we are more likely being hurtful. We think he should enjoy doing homework and learning. He feels like we are handing him a buzzing chainsaw.
As I lay in bed this morning listening to the house wake up, I thought about what that dream might mean. I came to the conclusion that it symbolizes our approach to homework. It may sound like a stretch, but let me explain.
Every Monday Sam brings home a packet of homework. Each day he's expected to complete a couple of pages. Now I have tried to make homework time comfortable and enjoyable. We sit at the kitchen table together, no distractions, and work through his pages. But, more often than not, it is such a beating.
I don't know if it is typical for a kid Sam's age, but he can't focus on anything seriously for more than a couple of minutes. To top it off, he isn't the least bit concerned about how well he does his work. Is he supposed to be? I don't know, but most of his homework sessions end up with one of us lecturing him about taking school seriously and doing his best, giving his all. No wonder he hates to do homework. I know how I'd feel if my boss lectured me every time I completed a project.
When I realized his homework was venturing into actual reading I bought him a beginning reader book. One day this week we sat down to read it. It was like being a contestant on that classic TV show Password. If the word was 'bedtime,' for example, he'd yell, "bark, ball, basket, blueberry, buddy." I tried to be patient.
For today's homework Sam was supposed to decorate a penguin. He said he wanted to use black and silver glitter. Great, I thought. But when he was finished it looked like someone had poured bottles of trashy nail polish all over the poor penguin. Sam was fine with that. Bryon and I were not. Do you tell him he needs to work a little harder? Do you sigh a little when you see his nail polish penguin in the hall at school next to the penguin with a quilted tummy and real feathers on its back?
Like many parents I want my kids to be smart and athletic and talented. And wouldn't it be great if they just happened to show a proclivity for the piano, soccer or geometry? Wouldn't that somehow make their lives easier and better?
So back to the dream. We think we are being helpful and we are more likely being hurtful. We think he should enjoy doing homework and learning. He feels like we are handing him a buzzing chainsaw.
posted by Romine Family at 3:52 PM
<< Home