I sat at the kitchen counter with my 9 year old realizing, “I am trying to teach my kid math but I have to use a calculator to check her homework.”
My seven year old screamed how she hated homework because she hated coloring. Her first grade teacher gives her about four word problems a night and then makes them color everything on the paper, every picture, every line drawing. It IS kind of annoying. So, as much as I don’t blame Blue, I make her color. She rolls her eyes and then colors them half heartedly and then asks to do math flashcards. (what a kid, huh?)
This week has been hell in our house for some reason, my older one is good as gold one day, the next, she sticks her foot out to trip her little sister, who was already on the verge of complete meltdown…who screamed, not only at her sister, but at me, at the wall, she threw her boots down the stairs and yelled “I DON’T CARE” thirty two times before 8am.
Well, she did care, when she lost her play date with her little friend from school, when the Nintendo DS went in my purse for a few days, and when she didn’t get to go to Chuckee Cheese with her sister (and me) as the reward for the previous week’s good behavior incentive chart we have been doing the last few months. She still gets the reward, but “sorry kid, we’re postponing it.”
Chuckee Cheese, which I admitted to Red, was not as bad as I remembered (I had banned it for the last 5 years since the last time I was in one) because this one is smaller and being 5:00 pm on a Wednesday, we had the place to ourselves.
Now that’s how to do Chuckee Cheese, I’m tellin’ ya.
At any rate, she stayed home, in her room, by herself, while J practiced and about two hours later he went to get her, amazed that she’s been so quiet and had stayed put voluntarily. Apparently he stepped into her room and goes, “So, Blue….what do you think?” And he squatted down so she could climb on his back and he took her downstairs to make her an omelette and toast for dinner. They did her homework together.
And when I walked in the door with Red, fresh from Chuckee Cheese, Blue ran up to me and handed me a letter she had written, with the help of J.
And she gave me a hug.
Despite the ending to the day, it was one of those things that stayed with me, longer than it should have. It made me feel guilty, like I dropped the ball on her behavior turning out to be so, so long and stretched out that day. That maybe I did something wrong and didn’t teach her properly how to get a hold of herself. Maybe I couldn’t get a hold of MYself to handle the situation properly.
I’ll say though, if all I had were champagne in the house, I would totally crack it open and drink it. (and I hate champagne) I would toast to the fact that we all made it through the day alive.