Curses! Homework again.

Carter + homework? Is going to be the end of me. Yesterday was another great day at school for all of them. Even better, Carter came skipping in the door saying, “I don’t have any homework! We did all our math in class today.” Praise God, because I wasn’t up for another handholding/standoff that evening. Besides, it was the first rugby practice of the fall, so the boys got home at 4:15, grabbed a snack, threw on cleats and uniforms and we were out the door by 4:45.

By the time we got home it was 7. The boys showered, ate dinner, and then had a few minutes to relax before  they had to get ready for bed. Even though they didn’t have homework, I had lots of it. They each brought home papers from their teachers to be filled out by me: What are your hopes for your student for this year? How does your child learn best? What is your child’s greatest academic weakness? Is there anything I need to know about your child to help him or her succeed?

All of it is essential information for teachers to have, but you should have seen me staring cross-eyed at the pages: “Which kid is this form for? Is this the one that cries and throws a tantrum when he is overtired or am I writing about the one who thinks he can’t do anything right if he doesn’t get it perfect the first time? And how much of this do I reveal up front and what should I leave to be discovered as a “happy” accident?”

As I’m putting papers back in their folders, I pull out Carter’s homework book and find that not only does he have homework for tonight, but he has an assignment that he completely overlooked the night before. Good grief. In the chaos of the drama over his math assignment, I didn’t even notice that he was supposed to create a “mind map” (basically a brainstorming diagram) about himself.

I burst his happy, computer game playing bubble as I pointed out that he actually had two assignments that needed to be completed that he had written in his homework book himself, plus one from the night before and by now it was 8:00 and almost time for bed. He was supposed to check out 3 math resource websites online (easy) and then “tell someone about VCOP.” We quickly looked at the math websites. “Great, all done with that. Now tell me about VCOP.”

Carter: “I don’t know what it means. She told us in class, but I forgot.”
Me (prompting): What subject were you studying when she talked about it? Does it have to do with the classroom rules? How can you not remember if you wrote down that you were supposed to talk to me about it?”
Carter (sighing): I don’t know, she wrote it down on the board and talked about it some, but I only remember the V stands for ‘vocabulary.'”
Me: (head meets wall)

Giving up on VCOP, I whipped out a sheet of paper and said, “Here, you need to do the mind mapping assignment that you forgot to do last night. Write down six things about yourself. You should be able to do this quickly.” Carter was of the opinion that it could not be done quickly and it was the most horrible, awful assignment ever given, and why did he have to do it if he couldn’t think of anything to write. He sighed and scrawled and erased and scribbled for a few minutes, declared that he couldn’t think of anything else to write about himself, and stomped his way upstairs when I gave him the choice of “finish or head to bed.” This is what I was left with:

Based on past experience I though he purposely wrote, “I want to be a moron,” but it turns out that he was trying to write I want to be a Marine. You know how they say “Good readers make good spellers?” Yeah, we’re still working on the first part. I decided preserving my pride was more important than the “logical consequence” in this situation so I wrote his teacher a note that we (he?) forgot to do the assignment and plan to have him complete it and turn it in in the next few days — after I sneak in a few extra spelling and handwriting lessons. Still trying to figure out why people think this is easier than homeschooling . . .

***to be fair to Carter, I need to update that tonight he finished all of his homework with less complaining than the previous nights. I’m not ready to make another attempt at the mind map yet . . . baby steps.  

The day

*** I just realized this title might make people think this post is about THE DAY, the anniversary of 9/11. I could write a post about what I was doing on that day, but since I was a week overdue and out of my mind with anxiety about giving birth, having a second kid, and anything else I could think of, I really don’t have any poignant or deep thoughts to share from that day. At that time my thoughts revolved around ME, ME, ME, ME, ME, ME . . . and whether I would be able to get to the base hospital to deliver if I ever went into labor, which I probably wouldn’t because I was going to be pregnant forever. Much crying over my terrible plight . . . you get the picture. It wasn’t pretty. 

The big question everyone has is “what did you do all day while the kids were in school?” Sorry for the disappointment, but I didn’t have the day of luxury and pampering that everyone imagines. After getting home from checking on the boys, Josh went to go speak Arabic to people and I took the baby to the grocery store. Since we walked there and it was really hot and humid, by the time we arrived she was almost asleep. I grabbed only the essentials and went right home, hoping to get longer than a 20 minute stroller nap out of her. I honestly can’t remember the rest of the day until boys came home, but I was so tired I went to bed that night at 9:30. Since that only happens if I’m sick or pregnant (of which I am neither), I can add “not schooling my kids” as one of the most tiring things I’ve ever done.

And what did the boys think about school? Well, at dinner Carter was trying to figure out how many days of school he had left until we move. I was a little worried until I realized that he didn’t want to leave before the end of the year. Then he added, “And then I want Dad to work here for three more years so I can go to TAISM.” Something he didn’t love was the homework he was assigned. One of the reasons I like TAISM is because they assign minimal homework. Well in Carter’s world, anything more than “nothing” is too much. He made a big fat flopping deal over his two pages of math (one of which had only 4 problems), but in the end he finished it saying, “I really like school because you are doing things all day that don’t feel like school, but I hate homework.”

The other two boys had great days too. Over dinner they were all sharing stories and telling about the different classes they had (music, art, PE, Arabic, etc). Calvin told us his language arts teacher read a passage “from this weird book, something about a ghost and a booth of some kind” (hmm, I’m guessing that was The Phantom Tollbooth?) and his other exciting news was that he can order cappuccinos from the cafeteria and Dairy Queen blizzards at lunch on Sundays and Mondays if he wants since he’s in Middle School. He was pretty surprised to find out that we had already tested the coffee bar and found it worthy. Coffee and ice cream – that’s my boy, getting his priorities straight.

Every single story Caleb told related to recess or PE. No matter what question we asked, it always came back to that. He even got up and demonstrated something that looked like the chicken dance. I don’t know if that was a game they played or a stretching exercise they did, but he thought it was worth sharing. I have no idea if they did any reading or math, but I did find out he ate his granola bar at snack time before first recess.

We dissected Carter’s day the most closely, trying to get an idea if he had any :cough: deficiencies. :cough: Classic Carter — he pocketed the rial I left for him, but didn’t bother to read the note. He just stuck it back in his locker. He also said they had a group brainstorming project where they had to write six ideas down and they could do it in groups of two or three. He said he found a group of three so he only had to write two things. They were assigned a word search and after they found all ten words they had to use at least four of them in a sentence. He said some kids used six or eight words. We asked him how many he did. With a sly smile he replied, “Four.” God bless and help Ms. F.

As far as being easier or more relaxing than homeschooling? Yes and no. While they were gone mid-day it was easier, but morning and evening were harder. It seemed like all their neediness and questions were compressed into four hours instead of across the entire day. The evening was jam-packed with sorting through paperwork, figuring out which kid needed to wear a PE uniform tomorrow, which kid has homework to sign and return, scrounging money for lunch tomorrow (it’s Pizza Day – they bring in Papa John’s), trying to dodge Caleb’s incessant kisses (the first 25 were fine, but then he started hanging on my neck and practically giving me a hickey), and making sure we finished it all in time to go to bed early enough to get enough rest to do it all over again tomorrow.

Annnd . . . they’re off!

Last night clothes were laid out, alarms were set, and lunches were packed. You know how I said I briefly (like for 2 seconds, and only in my head) considered making Lucy the morning mom? Before bed Carter came and gave me an extra hug and kiss:
“In case I don’t see you in the morning.”
Me: “Why would you not see me in the morning?”
Carter: “I thought you might sleep in.”

Mother of the Year here, people. Mother of the YEAR.

But guess who didn’t sleep in this morning — this guy! He was the first one ready, dressed, hair brushed, breakfast eaten and waiting by the door. I guess he decided school wasn’t such a horrible place after all.
It was 90 something degrees and sweatier than a greenhouse inside a sauna. I have no idea why Calvin is wearing jeans. 

Our neighbors also have 3 kids going to the same school. Between us we have two 7th graders, a 5th, 4th and 2nd grader, and a Kindergartner. I’m hoping that gives us a better chance of actually catching the bus. Rumor has it that if you aren’t waiting outside they will leave without honking or ringing the doorbell. That reminds me of my high school days having to use A/C Transit — except the bus drivers would see us waiting and drive right by without stopping. 

Playing around while waiting for the bus. It’s probably the only day all year that we’ll be ready before the bus arrives at 7:45ish

It’s here! The bus is a lot older than I expected from some of the other buses I’ve seen at the school. I wasn’t even sure it was the right bus until I saw some other kids wearing the same uniform shirts already on board.

The bus attendant is the woman behind Caleb in the abaya. She makes sure the kids are behaving themselves while the driver concentrates on driving. Josh had to remind Caleb this morning that the person driving the bus was not called the bus boy.

He may be in middle school, but he still stopped and smiled for the camera.

After the bus left, Josh and I finished eating breakfast and then headed over to school. I wasn’t worried about them, but this was my first day of school too and I didn’t want to miss it. I could have driven them today (like many of the parents do on the first day), but I wanted them to get all the newness and nervousness out of the way at once.

I don’t have a good picture of the school because every time I try and take one, the white building blends into the white desert sand — but it’s beautiful and new looking.

We first stopped by Caleb’s class. His teacher is on the right and Caleb’s head is peeking over the edge of the couch behind her.

The bell hadn’t even rung yet and he’s already got friends. (And he was thrilled to finally meet the real life Howie). The kid in the middle was reading a story to them.

Next we went by Carter’s class. I told him I wouldn’t embarrass him by waving, but in my super-spy way I snapped this picture from outside the door.

Then he looked up and saw me. Yes, yes, I’m leaving. School hasn’t even officially started yet. I left him a rial in his locker to make up for the fly-by. On certain days each week they have Dairy Queen blizzards so he’s going to want to have ice cream money on him at all times. Then Josh and I went by the cafeteria and ordered cappuccinos before walking upstairs to check out the middle school.

Aside from me walking into a wall in my care not to be seen by anyone in first period science, all was fine on the second floor. Calvin and his friend from next door were in class together and they looked like they were busy meeting everyone.

I knew they’d be fine, but it was fun to see it with my own eyes. One day down, many more to go . . .

last minute lunchbox

When I ordered the boys’ lunchboxes a few weeks ago, the one Carter wanted was on back order. I told him he could pick a different design or take his lunch in something else for the first few weeks of school. He decided he wanted to wait for the one he wanted. Tonight as we were putting lunches together for tomorrow he realized that we don’t have any brown paper lunch bags here and he didn’t want to take his lunch in a plastic bag. I told him I could sew him one, so he went to pull out the sewing machine while I scrounged for fabric. 

At home I have a large fabric stash, but I didn’t ship any of it here. So I went fabric shopping in Carter’s closet. His favorite pair of shorts is frayed and holes have started wearing through the seat, so I asked him if he wanted to use them to make his lunch bag.

I cut a panel of fabric and lined up the hem with the waistband, right sides together. Carter helped sew up the side seams and turn it right side out. The pocket is the perfect size for a granola bar and since I used the entire length of the shorts, no hemming required. 

As a closure I used one of the buttons that was already in the waistband (used to adjust the waist size), sewed in the matching button, and added buttonholes. Ta da! Temporary lunch bag. 

Dear Teacher,

Yes, I know my son writes like a 3rd grader. That’s completely my fault. Really, genetically my fault. I had almost perfect grades throughout elementary school, except for those persistent S’s and even a few Ns in handwriting (C and D equivalent). I never realized how illegible it was until I was browsing through some old Father’s Day cards that I had sent my dad over the years. I picked one up thinking it was from when I was in elementary school . . . only to read, “Thanks for all the help with college stuff.” Oops. So, yeah. I promise we’ve worked on it (a lot), but he got the short end of the stick in the handwriting department. In spite of the messy papers he’ll hand in, he’s really bright, loves to read, and is an enthusiastic student who wants to please you. You’ll love him.

Fourth grade teacher? You are so lucky that my son started reading in the last 6 months. You don’t even know what a bullet you dodged there. He may still put you to sleep with the monotone and stilted voice he uses to read out loud, but at least he no longer sees the first few letters of a word and guesses. I’m hoping you can get him to love reading, cause so far I’ve struck out. He’ll do it as a chore, but he’d rather play Legos all day long than pick up a book. He’s actually a natural at math, but his squirreliness gets in the way of his brightness at times. He’s certainly not your traditional excellent student, because he doesn’t care about being perfect. He’d rather plow through and get on to having fun. I hope you like that about him. It’s nice to have him around to balance out those neurotic perfectionist types. 

Yes, my son is loud. He has two older brothers to compete with for attention — he didn’t get the nickname “Loudy McLoudsAlot” for nothing. If he’s enjoying himself, you will know it. We put him in second grade because he’s tall for his age, but with his July birthday he’s probably the youngest student in your class. He’s still a beginning reader — partly because he’s young, partly because we spent the year roaming around the world, and partly because he was working through a beginning reading program that has been missing since we moved here. Ironically, I found it tonight. He loves books, is excited about reading, and has good phonemic awareness so I’m expecting things to click for him this year. Don’t worry about him needing speech therapy. He doesn’t actually have a lisp. He listens to the Ramona Quimby audiobooks every night and copies her speech patterns. He was ridiculously excited to see that there was a Howie in your class. I apologize in advance if he wants to call him “Howie Kemp” like in Ramona the Pest. As you’ll see, he is funny (sometimes to a fault), enthusiastic, and a people person. If you can keep him on task, he’ll be an excellent student.

I hope you have a wonderful year (and that I didn’t screw it up too badly).