The Dreaded "H" Word

My son is 8 years old and the world’s best procrastinator. He must have inherited this trait from me. He is one of those bright kids with “great potential” that frustrates the hell out of teachers (and parents) because if he doesn’t want to sit down and do the work required of him, he simply does not.

I’ll begin by saying that I am not the biggest fan of the amount of homework that children get these days. I don’t remember ever getting homework in primary grades and I’m sure that most adults don’t end their work day by eating a snack and flipping open their laptop to do more work the minute they get in the door. Energetic and growing kids need an opportunity to unwind, get fresh air, run around and get their ya-ya’s out. What they don’t need is to sit down the minute they get home from school to do more of the what they did in class (where they sat and did work most of the day).

That being said, homework is a reality in our world. I have chosen at this point to suck it up and help the kids develop good homework habits because I don’t think the homework conundrum is going away anytime soon. I try hard not to roll my eyes at the amount of homework they are given. All I can do is empathize (“it must be frustrating when you just want to play”) and work with them at making it enjoyable. I try to give them some outside play on the way home and make sure a snack is at the ready when they get in. My kids are vultures the minute they hit the kitchen- something about “not having time to eat lunch at school” (another post altogether). We’ve even installed a breakfast bar so there is another homework station within quick reach of Mom’s help or another snack.

What frustrates me the most is the amount of time my son spends sitting in front of his homework doing anything but. He breaks and sharpens his pencil about 30 times, asks for more food or another drink, fidgets and scribbles, taking 60 minutes to complete something that could have been done in 15. I try not to stand over him, encouraging/pleading for him to get it done. I try to gently remind him of the consequences (handing in incomplete work to his teacher who he likes and respects) but I can’t seem to find that inner motivation button. Trust me when I say that the reward system doesn’t work in our house (tried and failed numerous times). Sticker charts and bribes don’t resonate at all with him and I personally disagree with this approach. I don’t want to raise kids that will only participate in life because there is some kind of personal reward in it.

Last night L revealed that he had an art project due the next day. He also had other homework to complete before dinner and his Cubs meeting. That meant that he was up this morning, attempting to complete some pretty complex drawings and colouring before I hustled the three kids out the door for the bus. He didn’t finish it. And L loves to draw. He is passionate about it (not as passionate as he is about hockey but close). I often have to tell him to put away his sketch pad and pencils to go to bed. This should be an easy A for him. Instead, he tells me that his teacher says that he will be lucky to get a C+ in Art this term. I believe that it related to him not having good work habits and not completing his assignments on time. It feels a bit cruel when I know that he can do well but I appreciate where his teacher is coming from. He needs to learn that there are things required of us in life that aren’t pleasant but simply must be done in a timely manner (making dinner and doing laundry come to mind).

So I am biting my tongue, letting the chips fall where they may. We’ll find out what the teacher had to say and see if he gets an “R” on his assignment (I think it stands for incomplete but it’s in French so what do I know?). I'm going to go back to my Alyson Schafer books and scour her website for tips on dealing with homework (she isn't a fan of it either). We’ll sit down with L this weekend and try again to come up with better homework strategies together. And I will continue to search for that elusive inner motivation button. If I find it, I'll let you know!

Image © Reiulf Grønnevik | Dreamstime.com

The Great Procrastinator

What is the saying about the road to hell being paved with good intentions?

I regret to inform you that after my last post on November 30, I have pretty much rested on my self-righteous laurels and have barely lifted a finger as far as my Christmas preparation pledge goes. Okay, I did bake 20 dozen cookies on the weekend for a family cookie exchange. The tree is up and the house is decorated. I have NOT designed or ordered my Christmas cards (think I missed the boat on that one) nor have I even addressed or mailed generic cards. I’m thinking that perhaps I can start a new tradition of sending Orthodox Christmas cards by January 7 as we do celebrate both. There are those blasted stocking stuffers to buy. And then there is the wrapping...

Instead of hauling out the gifts hidden in the basement, taking inventory and wrapping this morning, I am sitting at our new breakfast bar, listening to some Mumford & Sons on Sirius satellite radio, drinking my third coffee and thinking about all the other things I can do to put off the wrapping. It’s true. I have revealed my true procrastinator self. Give me a deck of cards and I’ll be playing solitaire for hours instead of working on my essay... Oh wait, this isn’t university anymore.

Granted, this year has been so much less stressful that previous years. It’s been pleasant not to be battling the multitudes at the dreaded malls, everyone in panic mode and miserable, inventory in array, with nary a salesperson in sight to help. The majority of my gifts were purchased by mid-November. Perhaps this is why I’ve put off the gift inventory/wrapping for fear that, although I’ve carried around my gift idea notebook and checked things off methodically, I may have missed some big gift and will have to get back out there. *shudder*

Can you tell that I’m seriously procrastinating now? I don’t have much more to say and yet I ramble on. Sigh. I guess I’m finished my coffee. Time to get to it. Watch me now. Here I go. I’m closing my laptop. Any minute now. Just one more cup of coffee and then I’ll start wrapping, I promise...

Image © Scott Hales | Dreamstime.com

Update: My Christmas Pledge

My children informed me this morning that there are only 25 sleeps until Christmas. 25 sleeps. 25 SLEEPS!! 

I have a confession to make: I’m way behind my schedule of finishing all of my holiday preparations by December 4th (see this post).

Okay, I’m way ahead of any schedule that I’ve had in previous years. Just last year found me scrambling at the malls on December 23rd and wrapping gifts way into the wee hours of Christmas Eve. Our lights were put up only 5 days before the big day. If I put it in those terms, I can feel somewhat better about letting myself (and my readers) down a bit with my ambitious timeline for this year.

Here is what I’ve accomplished so far:

1. My gift list is nearly complete. It would be much easier if the girls had a more specific list than “everything at Mastermind” and “puppies, guinea pigs, hamsters and kittens.”
2. About half of our gifts are purchased. About half of those are wrapped. (Thank goodness for stores that wrap for you. I think I’ll shop at them for the rest of my gifts too).
3. The outside Christmas lights are up.

What needs to be done:

1. Delegate more of these duties to my willing husband (right, honey??).
2. Finish shopping and wrapping by Friday.
3. Buy stocking stuffers by December 4th.
4. Decorate the inside of the house (once our renovations are complete today!).
5. Design Christmas cards and order if there is enough time. 
6. Buy tree and decorate by December 13th. At least this is still on track.
7. Bake cookies and other Christmas treats by December 15th.

So enough writing already. I’ve got work to do! I hope that the rest of you are having luck keeping to your Christmas pledge if you took it. Let me know! I’d love to be inspired by you.

Image © Lori Martin | Dreamstime.com

Stickin' To My Guns

Of all the parenting challenges, the hardest for me is discipline. I’m sure it is for most parents. We’d all love for our children to be perfectly behaved and when they’re not, to just do as they’re told. That is certainly not reality, at least in our household. My children are strong-willed (willful), creative (manipulative) and, as mentioned in a previous post, outnumber me.

I subscribe to the theory of democratic parenting: respectful leadership that requires parents to be both firm and friendly. It encourages rather than discourages the child and gives them the independence to make choices while holding them to the consequences of those choices, both natural and logical. In theory it is wonderful and when I am consistent with it, it is incredible, strengthening my relationship with my children and boosting their self-esteem. But when I’m tired or just tired of the grind (which is often), I find myself slipping in the vicious circle of empty threats, bribes, nagging, yelling, all the things I detest hearing come out of my mouth.

After a particularly trying couple of weeks (first the stomach flu then being with the kids 24/7 during March Break), let’s just say that the behaviour in our house has deteriorated. The sibling fights have escalated, the talking back has reached an all-time high punctuated with curse words and one of my daughters has developed a violent streak that has resulted in bruises on her brother’s arms and back. It’s not a good scene.

After a successful (and peaceful) trip to buy new rubber boots with the kids, I thought it would be fun to cap off the week with take-out from a favourite burger joint. The kids convinced me that we should dine in instead. I figured, “Why not? It is the last day of March Break after all.” Within 5 minutes of me placing the order, the nonsense began, the unrelenting teasing, crying, shouting and retaliation. The place was full of patrons and I tried to quietly admonish the kids to behave themselves. After the third warning I sensed all eyes on me (how I wished there a whole in the floor somewhere into which I could disappear). And it dawned on me. Enough of the empty threats. I turned around and changed our order to take-out. I’m not sure who was more surprised, the kids or me.

I then had to wait for our order to be prepared while the kids disintegrated into full-blown meltdown: tears, wailing, begging, pleading. I knew that I had to stick to my parenting guns. Certainly if I backed down now they would learn that I will never follow through on my “threats” and that tantrums will always get them what they want. I did some deep-breathing, stayed calm, took our food and left with the children to join my husband to eat at home.

When the tears stopped and we had a talk, we ended up enjoying a pleasant family meal. While the “restaurant incident” wasn’t pretty to watch I’m hoping (praying!) that when I’m ready to attempt another meal out, they will know that I mean business.