This mom's rendition of the William Tell Overature is too funny not to share with every one I know!
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Homework...ahhh
It's 7:42pm and I'm just waiting for the next "mama, I need help".
My sixth grader is doing her math homework and her father, the math wiz, is at a business dinner.
Asking me to help with math is liking asking the kid next to you in class, who got 17 out of 25 wrong on the last test, for help. I feel like an idiot.
There are times I think "I'm an adult. Just by virtue of the fact that I'm 35 years older than she is means I ought to understand this, hands down. It doesn't matter that I didn't understand it 35 years ago I should get it NOW!"
Language Arts, I'm an ace. World Geography, fantastic. Science, dancing in the danger zone. Math, bomb.
I'm watching the clock ticking thinking that surely my husband will be home any minute to get me out of this. "Wait til daddy gets home. He'll explain it all."
That statement is followed by "but don't jump on daddy to help the minute he gets home; he needs to wind down."
I'm thankful for these silly cunundrums (sp?). I enjoy having a child to help. It wasn't that long ago that my three older children were sitting at the kitchen table doing their homework, all stuck on math and dad stuck at work. Two of those three are grown-ups now and the third is a very independent high school freshman.
This sixth grader of mine truly is a joy filled human being. She doesn't get discouraged too frequently and when she does, she just has a little teary melt down and picks herself right back up again. That's what we girls do.
So, as I suffer a little angst wondering when my husband will be home and what the next hideous math problem will be, I offer up thanks for this lovely little creature who needs my help.
My sixth grader is doing her math homework and her father, the math wiz, is at a business dinner.
Asking me to help with math is liking asking the kid next to you in class, who got 17 out of 25 wrong on the last test, for help. I feel like an idiot.
There are times I think "I'm an adult. Just by virtue of the fact that I'm 35 years older than she is means I ought to understand this, hands down. It doesn't matter that I didn't understand it 35 years ago I should get it NOW!"
Language Arts, I'm an ace. World Geography, fantastic. Science, dancing in the danger zone. Math, bomb.
I'm watching the clock ticking thinking that surely my husband will be home any minute to get me out of this. "Wait til daddy gets home. He'll explain it all."
That statement is followed by "but don't jump on daddy to help the minute he gets home; he needs to wind down."
I'm thankful for these silly cunundrums (sp?). I enjoy having a child to help. It wasn't that long ago that my three older children were sitting at the kitchen table doing their homework, all stuck on math and dad stuck at work. Two of those three are grown-ups now and the third is a very independent high school freshman.
This sixth grader of mine truly is a joy filled human being. She doesn't get discouraged too frequently and when she does, she just has a little teary melt down and picks herself right back up again. That's what we girls do.
So, as I suffer a little angst wondering when my husband will be home and what the next hideous math problem will be, I offer up thanks for this lovely little creature who needs my help.
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