Monthly Archives: September 2012

Who Has Homework?


I have homework and I’m not even currently a student.  Then why homework you might ask?  Because I’m a mom of three kids.  I’m not sure when homework started being the responsiblity of the parent but I’m ready for it to revert to the 80s when my parents didn’t have anything to do with homework.

The tween came home the first week of school with an essay he needed me to edit.  Having been a teacher, I’m slow and picky editor.  I’m sure my kids would rather do anything than wait on me to check written work.

At the start of the second week, the queen comes home with a reading log.  She is to read 75 minutes every week and not just to herself but to someone.  This does not fit into our daily list of activities and other homework that must be done.  Don’t get me wrong, I believe all children should practice reading but reading to me every day is just gas on the fire.  Plus, I have to record all the titles that she reads, do some kind of reading strategy exercise with her and then sign off Sunday night that we have logged the expected minutes.  Being a creative mom, I have decided the tween and tween get to take turns being the listener.  Oh, how I love coming up with new ways to have them help.

Our community participates in a program called Spread the Hope where they collect peanut butter from every living body to distribute to food banks in our local community.  Two of our three schools are participating in the peanut butter drive.  The teen asks for a jar because he wants some extra credit in algebra.  I have already donated two and then I get the request for another jar for his world history class today.  Really?  I feel like we are buying a grade and it makes me a little hot under the collar.  Figuring I shouldn’t try to explain this to my 14-year-old boy and just buy the peanut butter and move past my quirks.  I guarantee they are going to ask me at the market if I would like to contribute another jar to cause when I check out the groceries.

Last week, the queen came home with the fill out ten addresses for our school magazine sale.  What did the assembly host tell the kids?  Take this home to your parents!  It’s their homework for the night.  Isn’t that cool?  Homework for Mom and Dad!  No, it is not cool because I’m already doing reading, editing, and buying peanut butter.

The last straw was pulled this evening causing my homework rant.  The queen presented her Draw and Solve math problem.  It was my job to draw dollar signs for one minute and then the queen’s job to count by 2s, 5s, or 10s to figure out how many I drew.  I did a record 74 dollar signs–this is according to the queen who had already done the activity at school with her classmates.  I hope I get the gold star because I do believe I’ve earned it.

If you don’t hear from me until May, it’s becaue I’m doing the homework assigned to Mom.



Another Crazy Wednesday


Wednesday in our school district is late start Wednesday.  This mean school starts 15 minutes later than any other day.  One would think this was a great thing…extra time to get ready, sleep in, catch up on a chore.  This extra time does nothing but wreak havoc on any routine that may already be in place.

Here is just a glimpse of my most recent late start Wednesday.

I had agreed to prepare a French toast casserole for a teacher breakfast at the tween’s school.  I have the husband preheat the oven at 5 a.m.  I slide the casserole into the oven a little later.  Casserole comes out of the oven and it is time to wake the tween and teen.  The normal grumbles sound…18 extra minutes of sleep makes them a little more grumpy than normal.  I cover the casserole and head to the middle school.

I arrive back home to see that both boys are dressed and ready to head out to the bus stop.  I’m relieved they have managed to get dressed and eat breakfast without me.  My happy reprieve doesn’t last long.  As they head to the bus, a little brotherly scuffle has ensued which has me racing after the teen down the street.  Why?  Because he doesn’t have his shoes tied.  Should I really care at his age whether or not he ties his shoes?  Probably not.  It was the principle of the whole moment.  I’m sure my neighbors got a huge kick out of my running down the street in hot pursuit.  His shoes were tied when I finally left the bus stop and the boyhood battle seemed to have dissipated.

As I reach the driveway, I notice that the queen is standing in the garage (overhead door open), topless, holding her backpack.  Her school is doing a magazine sale and she realizes I didn’t do my homework (each student was supposed to come back to school with 10 complete addresses).  I really wasn’t planning to do my homework but the queen most have known I was going to aim for the recycle bin and she was ready to take on the fight.  She of course doesn’t like that I decided to sort of make her happy and fill in a couple.  While I’m in the shower, she take the time to write in a few more people.  I have no idea what was really turned in but it probably isn’t good.  Will she get the cool prizes?  I don’t know but she can take that up with someone besides me.

At some point, I took the time to post to Facebook that next time a list for food items goes out I want to sign up for bananas or juice…something that doesn’t require me to bake so early in the morning.  A friend commented that I really needed to learn to say NO.

Took the time out of planning for a Brownie meeting that happens this afternoon to have breakfast with some great ladies.  I come home to 50 million emails.  One of the emails has the subject CONGRATULATIONS.  Not as in congratulations you have just won a free Dell computer but you have been chosen to be the 6th grade co-representative for the PTA.

I didn’t even get the chance to try out my new word.  Some sweet soul simply decided I needed one more thing on my plate.  Fun times are happening at my house this week.

To all those readers out there, how do you manage multiple schools and multiple children?  I seem to be struggling this week and could use some guidance.  Until next time…

School Supplies, School Supplies, School Supplies


Let me start this entry by explaining that I was once a high school teacher.  I understand kids need supplies for class.  I also understand that the older the kids get the less intensive the list becomes (unless of course you are in the 6th grade and need 8 rolls of Scotch tape).  As a teacher, buying supplies was the cost of doing business and I liked buying supplies (this was before I actually had three children with three different lists).  Let’s just say I’m a little grumpy about the whole community supply thing that happened by surprise this past week.

My tween has hit the middle school and came equipped with a huge list of supplies.  Eight rolls of Scotch tape (of which I only purchased two).  What they plan to do with eight is beyond me but I’m not buying more until we use the first two.

The tween arrived home on the first day to explain that his teacher would be collecting his tape (needed for two classes), loose leaf note paper (needed for several classes), composition notebook, tissues, hand sanitizer, and highlighters (also used for several classes).  I asked how he was going to use some of these things for other classes when she had them all…he didn’t really have an answer but could read my unhappiness about the situation.

I debated sending an email to ask.  I tossed the thoughts many times with my husband who is totally against community supplies.  Today I asked my friends who basically told me to suck it up and take one for the team.  I didn’t want to but decided I’d let it go.  Just get some more highlighters, tape, and paper.

Turns out I didn’t have to spend so much mental energy on my supply issue.  The tween solved it all by himself.  He decided to share with his teacher that his mom wasn’t happy that she took all of his supplies and now he can’t use them for other classes.  She explained how she doesn’t want to upset any parents, that she is an understanding teacher, and wants to do her best to get along with everyone…so she gave him back his supplies!

I don’t know what we did to raise an 11-year-old boy willing to confront a teacher about his supply issue but I’m really proud of him today.

I am a little worried because the same teacher is his Language Arts teacher and he caught her using the word good rather than well .  Hopefully, he will keep that one to himself.  However, he is a little steamed under the collar about it.  I guess you could say the apples don’t fall far from the tree.