It's time to read. Go get your book.
It shouldn't be a big deal. It shouldn't, but it is. My boy dislikes doing homework. I know, pretty much all kids hate doing homework and most adults do too. He balks at the mere mention of future homework.
He's only in first grade. He has very little homework, truth be told.
I should have known he would resist homework. He resisted "have-tos" in preschool. He feels strongly that no one should tell him he has to do anything. (Honestly, I feel my feet digging in at similar things.) Last quarter, the homework battles got so bad that I met with his teachers to find out if there was something more going on. No, he's perfectly behaved for them. Works hard. Polite. No, he reserves these delightful battles for me. (and occasionally his dad)
This night? He's tired. Just his third day back at school after the Christmas break and after having a Cub Scout meeting the night before, he's beyond tired. He was unable to hold himself together at his scout meeting. It's hard for a young boy (especially such a spirited boy) to sit still and listen for so many hours in a day.
The simple command to get his book to read started it all.
First, he flat-out refused. We were forced to remove the "kids'" laptop computer (my old one) from his room, because it was a privilege to use it in his room but when you're irresponsible you lose privileges. The sight of the computer sent him in a deeper spiral.
He retreated to the corner of our dining room. He could still see me and hear both his dad and I. He was angry. Oh, the temper of that boy. (Quicker than his mother's but just as intense.)
His protests started about the injustice of having the computer removed from his room. He gave us his terms, mistakenly believing that he was in a position to negotiate. We calmly refused all demands and reminded him who makes the rules in the house. (Not the little boy.)
He escalated to informing us that he was leaving "in ten minutes!" and that we were going to be sorry when we saw that happen "in ten minutes." I was told I was to drive him to his Aunt and Uncle's house. I had to refuse.
You can have my chair, Mom.
What chair?
My new desk chair. You can have it when I'm gone.
Oh, that would make me too sad too see it. It would remind me of you.
That's why you can have it.
Oh, that would make me way too sad to see it and remember you left me because you didn't want to do your homework.
Oh.
Silence.
You can come and visit me at Jason and Kristi's house if you want to.
I'm afraid I don't make it over to their house very often. I guess I'd see you once or twice a year. Or I suppose you could stay here and I could see you every day.
More silence.
Would it be better if we walked to the chair together to read or would you like to walk by yourself?
He chose to crawl, like a dog, because he was wearing his Scooby Doo pajamas.
He climbed into my lap, read his two (6-page) books with very few problems and it was over.
The first homework standoff of 2011.
Showing posts with label first grade. Show all posts
Showing posts with label first grade. Show all posts
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Before and After First Grade
The wisdom of the whole of first grade. It's evident, no?Wordless Wednesday and Even more Wordless Wednesday
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Remind me that I feel this way half-way through the next break
My kids return to school on Monday. Miss M will resume her life at school, away from me for more hours than she is with me. K, D and I will start out the week at preschool together. Wednesday afternoon will find Miss D and I alone together for a couple of hours.
These seemingly abrupt endings to days of having all of my children together are bittersweet. I welcome the return of routine, but it seems the old routine returns just as we are getting used to a new routine. M and K were starting to play nicely together. They were starting to respect quiet time so D could nap.
I was really starting to enjoy having my kids with me and all the time to do whatever we wanted to, whenever we wanted.
As usual, I want the best of both worlds.
These seemingly abrupt endings to days of having all of my children together are bittersweet. I welcome the return of routine, but it seems the old routine returns just as we are getting used to a new routine. M and K were starting to play nicely together. They were starting to respect quiet time so D could nap.
I was really starting to enjoy having my kids with me and all the time to do whatever we wanted to, whenever we wanted.
As usual, I want the best of both worlds.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Math and Munchies
I spent an hour and a half at my bigger little girl’s school a few weeks ago. It was only the second time that I’d left my baby for more than an hour or so. (For the record, she was fine. Again.)
I arrived at M’s school and checked in at the office. I made myself comfortable and put my coat in her locker, which, I was amused to note, was open, because it could not be closed.
The locker is not very wide; I’ll give her that. It takes some creativity to fit a foot-wide (at least) backpack in a 4- to 5-inch wide space.
I found her lunch box at the bottom, with her backpack stuffed on top. Her P.E. shoes were stashed above those. Her coat, interestingly enough, was shoved in the small shelf at the top of the locker. How she manages to cram the puffy winter coat into approximately 4 square inches is a mystery to me.
Since the hooks of the locker (from which coats and backpacks are designed to hang) were completely devoid of hanging objects, I removed my coat and hung it from one of the hooks.
Looking up, I noted that the first-graders were starting to gather in the hallway for the program. Seconds after my brain registered the kids in the hall, I noted the blonde-haired, blue-dressed jumping bean in the hall waving to me.
I wondered if my child might be a little excited.
I attempted to corral my wild horse while trying to listen to the instructions of the faculty.
M and I began our math escapades in the computer lab. It wasn’t a great beginning because neither of us knew what we were supposed to be doing. I mostly sat while my daughter played games on the computer. I’ll be honest. I contemplated why I was there.
The rest of the math games they’d set up were fun, however. They were interactive, we had instructions that us (dumb) parents could read, and I had a chance to see my intelligent little girl in action.
M, the social being that she is, took at least 20 minutes to stop looking around to see what the other kids were doing. It reminded me of watching the video of my college graduation. I’m there in my graduation gown, my family is there, and instead of enjoying them, I’m looking around for my public relations professor, who, incidentally, never shows up.
I tried to share with M the knowledge I’d learned: Hey! I’m here for you! Let’s not worry about what everyone else is doing!
Naturally, she didn’t care and didn’t see my point because she’s six and I was twenty-three and didn’t get it.
By the end of the scant hour and a half, though, Miss M was there, and protective of her time with me. Which, honestly, I’m surprised she wasn’t more demanding of my exclusive attention. However, she’s been through having a younger sibling and shone in the role of big sister before. So maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised that my little BIG girl is so smart, and socially intelligent, and beautiful on the inside too.
I arrived at M’s school and checked in at the office. I made myself comfortable and put my coat in her locker, which, I was amused to note, was open, because it could not be closed.
The locker is not very wide; I’ll give her that. It takes some creativity to fit a foot-wide (at least) backpack in a 4- to 5-inch wide space.
I found her lunch box at the bottom, with her backpack stuffed on top. Her P.E. shoes were stashed above those. Her coat, interestingly enough, was shoved in the small shelf at the top of the locker. How she manages to cram the puffy winter coat into approximately 4 square inches is a mystery to me.
Since the hooks of the locker (from which coats and backpacks are designed to hang) were completely devoid of hanging objects, I removed my coat and hung it from one of the hooks.
Looking up, I noted that the first-graders were starting to gather in the hallway for the program. Seconds after my brain registered the kids in the hall, I noted the blonde-haired, blue-dressed jumping bean in the hall waving to me.
I wondered if my child might be a little excited.
I attempted to corral my wild horse while trying to listen to the instructions of the faculty.
M and I began our math escapades in the computer lab. It wasn’t a great beginning because neither of us knew what we were supposed to be doing. I mostly sat while my daughter played games on the computer. I’ll be honest. I contemplated why I was there.
The rest of the math games they’d set up were fun, however. They were interactive, we had instructions that us (dumb) parents could read, and I had a chance to see my intelligent little girl in action.
M, the social being that she is, took at least 20 minutes to stop looking around to see what the other kids were doing. It reminded me of watching the video of my college graduation. I’m there in my graduation gown, my family is there, and instead of enjoying them, I’m looking around for my public relations professor, who, incidentally, never shows up.
I tried to share with M the knowledge I’d learned: Hey! I’m here for you! Let’s not worry about what everyone else is doing!
Naturally, she didn’t care and didn’t see my point because she’s six and I was twenty-three and didn’t get it.
By the end of the scant hour and a half, though, Miss M was there, and protective of her time with me. Which, honestly, I’m surprised she wasn’t more demanding of my exclusive attention. However, she’s been through having a younger sibling and shone in the role of big sister before. So maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised that my little BIG girl is so smart, and socially intelligent, and beautiful on the inside too.
***********
Hey, I've got a new review at the Zoo Review and there's another opportunity to win!
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Sometimes That's How it Goes, Literally
When your son begins the day by falling in the toilet it’s hard to not think it’s an indication of how the day is going to go.
Thursday morning K came into the bathroom to talk to me and entertain D while I was in the shower. He wanted to sit on the toilet, since it really is the only chair in the bathroom besides D’s Baby Papasan. The problem with that plan is that the lid was left open, so instead of having a nice perch, K fell right into the bowl.
This produced a swift and immediate meltdown until I reminded him that he really could just get dressed and all would be fine again. On a positive note, the toilet had been flushed after the last person used it and that doesn’t always happen around these parts. Note to self: K needs more sleep.
Having dealt with the first crisis of the morning without raising my voice (go me!) I continued with my morning routine. I stepped on the scale as I do every morning because I’m stupid. Step on. I have gained 4 pounds since Friday. Step off. Step on again. Yep. Still 4 pounds. Damn you Little Debbie for making your snack cakes so tempting and so affordable.
Then I realized it could also be the 2 big chocolate chip cookies from Panera that I ate after I took K to preschool. Or maybe the sticks of sharp cheddar cheese conveniently packaged in individual wrappers. Or those cute little mints. Holy hell I’ve eaten a lot of junk in the last few days.
We managed to get dressed and eat breakfast and headed to take Miss M to school. The ride there was pretty normal, with me trying to drive and at the same time trying to monitor the location of the big brother’s hands in relation to the little sister. Let’s just say he likes to pick on his little sister already. Fun times.
At school, I backed into a space to wait for the doors to open. They make the kids stand outside until 8:40 and let me say I would be a bit chilled standing in line for even 5 minutes. I don’t make M stand in the cold. However, as soon as I threw the car in park I heard a click that sounded suspiciously like K’s seatbelt behind me.
“Oops,” he muttered, knowing immediately he’d made a grievous error in judgment. K can’t buckle himself. In fact, it took M a good 2 months before she figured out how to buckle herself in again after we added Ms. D’s car seat in the middle.
“I can do it Mom,” he insisted, although not sounding all that optimistic. Naturally, the school doors opened and the kids began to file in while K tried to refasten his belt.
Normally this wouldn’t be that big of a deal and I would just hop out and do it for him quickly. However, it is rather chilly out and I’ve yet to see the phrase freezing your ass off actually work, in practice.
I sucked it up and jumped out to re-do his belt, then drove up the drop-off lane to let Miss M out. There is always one person that parks their car in the lane, then gets out and walks their child into the building. Why not just park in a real spot since, you know, you’re not really dropping off if you park and get out of the car?
On the way back home I was treated to my son insisting that he has no toys, when in fact he has 527,990 and those are just the ones that he hasn’t broken yet.
Needless to say, I was thrilled that the day was going so fantastically, and was relieved to note that it was only 9 a.m. and I would have several more hours of this day to go.
Thursday morning K came into the bathroom to talk to me and entertain D while I was in the shower. He wanted to sit on the toilet, since it really is the only chair in the bathroom besides D’s Baby Papasan. The problem with that plan is that the lid was left open, so instead of having a nice perch, K fell right into the bowl.
This produced a swift and immediate meltdown until I reminded him that he really could just get dressed and all would be fine again. On a positive note, the toilet had been flushed after the last person used it and that doesn’t always happen around these parts. Note to self: K needs more sleep.
Having dealt with the first crisis of the morning without raising my voice (go me!) I continued with my morning routine. I stepped on the scale as I do every morning because I’m stupid. Step on. I have gained 4 pounds since Friday. Step off. Step on again. Yep. Still 4 pounds. Damn you Little Debbie for making your snack cakes so tempting and so affordable.
Then I realized it could also be the 2 big chocolate chip cookies from Panera that I ate after I took K to preschool. Or maybe the sticks of sharp cheddar cheese conveniently packaged in individual wrappers. Or those cute little mints. Holy hell I’ve eaten a lot of junk in the last few days.
We managed to get dressed and eat breakfast and headed to take Miss M to school. The ride there was pretty normal, with me trying to drive and at the same time trying to monitor the location of the big brother’s hands in relation to the little sister. Let’s just say he likes to pick on his little sister already. Fun times.
At school, I backed into a space to wait for the doors to open. They make the kids stand outside until 8:40 and let me say I would be a bit chilled standing in line for even 5 minutes. I don’t make M stand in the cold. However, as soon as I threw the car in park I heard a click that sounded suspiciously like K’s seatbelt behind me.
“Oops,” he muttered, knowing immediately he’d made a grievous error in judgment. K can’t buckle himself. In fact, it took M a good 2 months before she figured out how to buckle herself in again after we added Ms. D’s car seat in the middle.
“I can do it Mom,” he insisted, although not sounding all that optimistic. Naturally, the school doors opened and the kids began to file in while K tried to refasten his belt.
Normally this wouldn’t be that big of a deal and I would just hop out and do it for him quickly. However, it is rather chilly out and I’ve yet to see the phrase freezing your ass off actually work, in practice.
I sucked it up and jumped out to re-do his belt, then drove up the drop-off lane to let Miss M out. There is always one person that parks their car in the lane, then gets out and walks their child into the building. Why not just park in a real spot since, you know, you’re not really dropping off if you park and get out of the car?
On the way back home I was treated to my son insisting that he has no toys, when in fact he has 527,990 and those are just the ones that he hasn’t broken yet.
Needless to say, I was thrilled that the day was going so fantastically, and was relieved to note that it was only 9 a.m. and I would have several more hours of this day to go.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Days of school this week = 1
Okay, one and a half. Seriously, M has only been in school 4 full days out of the 8 (including tomorrow).
So far first grade really rocks.
She went to school yesterday, and was fine. K, D and I all took a nap in the afternoon. It was lovely.
This morning M woke up whining. Her tummy hurt. Really bad.
And me, being the stellar mom that I am? I didn't believe her that she was really sick.
Honestly, I took her temp and it was normal. I thought she just wanted to stay home and watch TV.
The school nurse called at noon to tell me to come and get my sick kid. Temp 101.6 supposedly (I could not duplicate that high a reading at home.) so that means she can't go to school tomorrow either.
Great timing with this sickness thing since I'm trying to get things ready for our garage sale. Oh well.
To be fair, M did lay in her bed for a good hour and a half when we got home (following a dose of ibuprofen). So, she must have felt REALLY feel crappy.
Of course now that the ibuprofen is working on the aches and pains, she's right back to fighting with her brother...and asking for desert 2 seconds after she's done eating supper.
I'm thinking more alcohol will be applied tonight.
So far first grade really rocks.
She went to school yesterday, and was fine. K, D and I all took a nap in the afternoon. It was lovely.
This morning M woke up whining. Her tummy hurt. Really bad.
And me, being the stellar mom that I am? I didn't believe her that she was really sick.
Honestly, I took her temp and it was normal. I thought she just wanted to stay home and watch TV.
The school nurse called at noon to tell me to come and get my sick kid. Temp 101.6 supposedly (I could not duplicate that high a reading at home.) so that means she can't go to school tomorrow either.
Great timing with this sickness thing since I'm trying to get things ready for our garage sale. Oh well.
To be fair, M did lay in her bed for a good hour and a half when we got home (following a dose of ibuprofen). So, she must have felt REALLY feel crappy.
Of course now that the ibuprofen is working on the aches and pains, she's right back to fighting with her brother...and asking for desert 2 seconds after she's done eating supper.
I'm thinking more alcohol will be applied tonight.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
First Day
M was rather nervous about her first day of school yesterday, which is sort of unusual for her. She asked me to go in with her which actually afforded me an opportunity to take her picture standing next to her new locker.When asked how the first day as a first-grader went she replied with a rather impatient air. "It was fine mom." Sheesh. I should know better than to ask.
K, D and I went to lunch in a rather unusual place. Hop over to Midwest Parents to read about it.
Friday, June 6, 2008
The End is the New Beginning and Other Stuff
Yesterday was Miss M's last day of school. This means that in 6 short weeks she will step back into her school as a first grader.
I rolled my sore body into the car to go pick her up with the rest of my family. I took photos of her celebrating with some of her friends. I took a photo of her with her teacher. She was positively giddy, alternately hugging her friends and picking them up while trying to jump up and down.
I thought she might want to linger, to savor those last moments with her school friends, to hang on to the last bits of kindergarten, but no. When I said it was time to go, she agreed, gleefully.
Bye! she shouted to kindergarten, already done. A memory that will fade quickly until it is something only pictures will remind us about.
We passed another of her friends on the way to our cars. Her friend had a few tears trickling down her face. Why are you sad, A? Miss M couldn't think why there would be tears on a day that was clearly wonderful, but she hugged her friend in hopes that the gesture would make her feel better.
Then we went for ice cream.
**************************
Yesterday morning I also had another appointment to check my incision. It turns out that I was mistaken about the size of my wound and Craig chose to not correct me. It is about 1 ½ inches long, not just a pencil eraser size. Craig took a picture of it so I could see it and it looks like what it is, an opening in my skin. I think I’ll be healing for quite a while.
On a positive note, they told me that I have just 3.3 pounds to lose until I’m at my pre-preggo weight. Maybe I can keep the weight loss going and get to a healthier weight. That would be nice.
I rolled my sore body into the car to go pick her up with the rest of my family. I took photos of her celebrating with some of her friends. I took a photo of her with her teacher. She was positively giddy, alternately hugging her friends and picking them up while trying to jump up and down.
I thought she might want to linger, to savor those last moments with her school friends, to hang on to the last bits of kindergarten, but no. When I said it was time to go, she agreed, gleefully.
Bye! she shouted to kindergarten, already done. A memory that will fade quickly until it is something only pictures will remind us about.
We passed another of her friends on the way to our cars. Her friend had a few tears trickling down her face. Why are you sad, A? Miss M couldn't think why there would be tears on a day that was clearly wonderful, but she hugged her friend in hopes that the gesture would make her feel better.
Then we went for ice cream.
**************************
Yesterday morning I also had another appointment to check my incision. It turns out that I was mistaken about the size of my wound and Craig chose to not correct me. It is about 1 ½ inches long, not just a pencil eraser size. Craig took a picture of it so I could see it and it looks like what it is, an opening in my skin. I think I’ll be healing for quite a while.
On a positive note, they told me that I have just 3.3 pounds to lose until I’m at my pre-preggo weight. Maybe I can keep the weight loss going and get to a healthier weight. That would be nice.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
weighty issues
The doctor says they like to see babies regain their birth weight by two weeks after their birth. Ms. D had her check up yesterday, at the ripe old age of 8 days old. She weighed 7 pounds, 3 ounces, so she is 2 ounces over her birth weight. I had noticed she was getting quite heavy...ha ha.
Craig has now packed my wound 3 times. He tells me it's looking better but I can feel my blood pressure rising the closer we get to the time we need to re-do the packing (twice per day). I had a slight mental breakdown last night because of it.
I'm just getting tired of not being able to do much of anything and having to ask Craig to do the simplest things for me. I feel like I'm asking him to do things all the time and the poor guy is trying to take care of everyone and everything at once.
It will get better. It will get better.
Right?
M had her school music program yesterday afternoon. I got drugged up and we all went. It was very cute and Miss M had been quite concerned that I wouldn't be able to come so I'm glad I was able to go. I'm also glad it wasn't any longer than it was because it wasn't the most comfortable chair to sit in. Only 4 more days of having a kindergartner. Then, in just 7 weeks I'll be sending her to first grade. Gah!
K had to miss his nap again yesterday because of M's music program, but he did get one today. I'm hoping that soon he'll be back on track with sleeping and my grumpy boy will turn back into my happy boy.
I weighed myself this morning and it looks like I have a whole 7 pounds to lose to be back at my (albeit overweight) pre-pregnancy weight.
Craig has now packed my wound 3 times. He tells me it's looking better but I can feel my blood pressure rising the closer we get to the time we need to re-do the packing (twice per day). I had a slight mental breakdown last night because of it.
I'm just getting tired of not being able to do much of anything and having to ask Craig to do the simplest things for me. I feel like I'm asking him to do things all the time and the poor guy is trying to take care of everyone and everything at once.
It will get better. It will get better.
Right?
M had her school music program yesterday afternoon. I got drugged up and we all went. It was very cute and Miss M had been quite concerned that I wouldn't be able to come so I'm glad I was able to go. I'm also glad it wasn't any longer than it was because it wasn't the most comfortable chair to sit in. Only 4 more days of having a kindergartner. Then, in just 7 weeks I'll be sending her to first grade. Gah!
K had to miss his nap again yesterday because of M's music program, but he did get one today. I'm hoping that soon he'll be back on track with sleeping and my grumpy boy will turn back into my happy boy.
I weighed myself this morning and it looks like I have a whole 7 pounds to lose to be back at my (albeit overweight) pre-pregnancy weight.
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