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

Try New Things

Not long ago, I bought a fantastic print from Homesense called “Family Rules.” It is strategically placed above the kitchen table so we can refer to it often:

One of the rules that we talk about a lot is Try New Things. This applies to everyone. K could try a taste of that dinner she is turning her nose up at. M could try that dance workshop at school tomorrow even though she is afraid of making a mistake. L could try that new hockey skill he picked up at last week’s practice. My husband could try to cook a new dish. And I should also set an example of trying something new.

I have vowed to try at least one new thing each season. Last winter, I started my blog. Last spring it was soccer. I hadn’t kicked a soccer ball since grade two (and then I recall taking one in the face). But I squared my shoulders and got out there. Despite the butterflies (read: terror), I got on the field and just did it. My teammates were so wonderfully supportive and knowledgable. I was hooked. When the season ended, I immediately signed up to play indoor soccer. This past week, I finally showed improvement and received some kudos from women on my team. As I watched our Canadian women’s national soccer team play twice this weekend and qualify for the Olympics, I was inspired to keep going even if I’m not going to compete at any level but house league. In fact, I felt a pang of regret that I hadn’t started earlier in life but better late than never. Who says you can’t teach a 41 year old dog new tricks?

I have also tried my hand (paddle?) at kayaking and if there is ever any snow this winter I plan to strap on some snowshoes for the first time. Last summer I planted a vegetable garden. I am about to register for my second photography course and I continue with my French lessons. I attended a wine and cheese pairing course at our local LCBO (a fantastic Christmas gift from my husband). I am signing up for a Standard First Aid Course with CPR and AED with the Red Cross. This winter, I bought my first pair of hockey skates and I am looking at some “learn to play hockey” classes in the neighbourhood. (My sister-in-law take the cake at trying new things, however. She started roller derby at age 35 and after training, she made the team! She hadn't been on roller skates in years.)

As I tell my kids: take a chance, just TRY something new or you’ll never know how much you could like it. The world is your oyster and the sky is the limit! 


*A special note of thanks to my cousin Jenn who told me about this print available at Homesense*

Image © Treva Thompson 2012

Just Like Riding a Bike

Image  © Eti Swinford | Dreamstime.com

I have been remiss lately on posting and I do apologize to my faithful readers. What started out as a hectic schedule turned into mental fatigue which was then compounded by some emotional stuff and suddenly I found myself feeling like I had forgotten how to ride a bike. When I was posting somewhat regularly, I found my internal dialogue sounding like a blog post. As with any kind of routine once you fall out of it, it seems hard to get back into the swing. But just like riding a bike, I am jumping back on and pedalling with all my might, hoping that I will remember how to.

Yesterday was Mother’s Day. With all of my choices of how to spend my day, I wanted us to go to our local Canadian Tire store and buy some shiny new bikes for the kids. Over the years, my children have endured hand-me-down and second-hand bikes and never complained about the rust and scratches. But this year is different. Now we are at a turning point in our bike-riding lives.

My nearly 8-year old son has asked for a 2-wheel bike. I tried to teach him a couple of years ago and it only took one accident where I lost my balance and grip, let go of his bike seat and he wobbled, skidded and fell hard on the asphalt of our back lane. My bad. Last year, he cautiously tried his hand with his rusty old 2-wheeler in the safe confines of our backyard. I could tell he was ready to stretch his bike-riding wings. My almost-6-year-old twins have clearly outgrown their 12-inch bikes with training wheels. The dead giveaway was their knees hitting the handle bars and watching their long legs pump furiously to get those wee tires in motion.

After a lovely breakfast in bed and a few errands, we hit Canadian Tire. Apparently we weren’t the only parents with this brilliant idea. Perhaps the fact winter ended only 2 days ago might have something to do with this rush to get bikes. Nevertheless, after some quick negotiations (the girls simply cannot have the exact same bike) we found ourselves wheeling three shiny new bikes to the cash register.

When we returned home, the kids literally grabbed their bikes from the van and pleaded to ride them straight away. We have a small dead-end lane behind our house and although it has a small incline and some nasty potholes, we thought it was a good place to start. My son grabbed his bike helmet, hopped on his bike and...rode!

It was unbelievable to watch him riding away from me down the lane, like a baby bird who had learned to fly. I started to get teary-eyed while cheering and applauding like crazy. When he turned around and rode back to me, the look on his face, his cheeks flushed with excitement and his eyes glowing with self-pride made my heart nearly burst. This is what being a parent is all about. Giving your children the foundation and the encouragement to get out in the real world, stretch their wings and soar.

It was the best Mother's Day gift I could have received.