Third Grade Homework
This evening, as I think back to a kindler, gentler time in my life, it gives me a chance to reflect on how things change and become harder. I'm not referring to my childhood, you blockhead. I fondly recall assisting my son with his homework. That is, when he was in Kindergarten.
I mean, have you seen 3d grade homework? The kid is asking me to help him study for things I barely remember. Honestly, when was the last time someone asked you to write the dictionary pronunciation of a word? I understand and agree with the emphasis placed on correctly spelling the absurdedly complicated English language (if you want to spell a word exactly as it sounds, try German), but studying for those tests is a killer. Tears, flouncing out of the room, and tantrums are a common occurence in our house; and those are only my reactions. To watch my son wrestle with why "unfortunate" isn't spelled U-N-F-O-R-C-H-U-N-A-T is a study in empathy.
He's o.k. with the math homework most of the time. Given the fact that he has two super type A parents, this is hardly unexpected. And if I have trouble with the "if Edgar has 3 marbles and Jane has 5..." questions, there's always a load of laundry that just has to be done before Daddy gets home.
But the reading? Puh leese. First of all, the stories are mostly boring beyond belief. They're filled with almost poetic tales of children pondering the beauty of the woods and where flowers go in the winter. Similes and aphorisms abound, with a frightening mix of oxymorons in an attempt to hold what the authors must know is a kid's flagging interest.
My kid goes into the test knowing the story backwards and forwards, and he's required to answer a question that goes like this, " What do you think Charlie is thinking when he's thinking about climbing the doghouse?" He can't win. When the test comes home with his answer marked wrong, and the correct answer written in purple ink, I'm forced to admit that I would have gotten a B on the gosh darned test, too. He can read and tell us all kinds of things about sharks, trains, penguins, and a fictional character named Geronimo Stilton, but "Wings" somehow doesn't hold his interest much after the test is over.
I think I'm going to skip homework today. I paid my dues.
I mean, have you seen 3d grade homework? The kid is asking me to help him study for things I barely remember. Honestly, when was the last time someone asked you to write the dictionary pronunciation of a word? I understand and agree with the emphasis placed on correctly spelling the absurdedly complicated English language (if you want to spell a word exactly as it sounds, try German), but studying for those tests is a killer. Tears, flouncing out of the room, and tantrums are a common occurence in our house; and those are only my reactions. To watch my son wrestle with why "unfortunate" isn't spelled U-N-F-O-R-C-H-U-N-A-T is a study in empathy.
He's o.k. with the math homework most of the time. Given the fact that he has two super type A parents, this is hardly unexpected. And if I have trouble with the "if Edgar has 3 marbles and Jane has 5..." questions, there's always a load of laundry that just has to be done before Daddy gets home.
But the reading? Puh leese. First of all, the stories are mostly boring beyond belief. They're filled with almost poetic tales of children pondering the beauty of the woods and where flowers go in the winter. Similes and aphorisms abound, with a frightening mix of oxymorons in an attempt to hold what the authors must know is a kid's flagging interest.
My kid goes into the test knowing the story backwards and forwards, and he's required to answer a question that goes like this, " What do you think Charlie is thinking when he's thinking about climbing the doghouse?" He can't win. When the test comes home with his answer marked wrong, and the correct answer written in purple ink, I'm forced to admit that I would have gotten a B on the gosh darned test, too. He can read and tell us all kinds of things about sharks, trains, penguins, and a fictional character named Geronimo Stilton, but "Wings" somehow doesn't hold his interest much after the test is over.
I think I'm going to skip homework today. I paid my dues.
Labels: humor, kids, momy, motherhood
posted by Kirsten at 11:51 PM
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