homework

Now that Damian's had a week's worth of homework (homework in kindergarten! Life is different now, that's for sure), I find myself contemplating the life of a homeschooler with something approaching awe. It's hard enough to get this kid to sit down and practice his lettering on a single sheet of homework, how could I possibly get him to learn an entire day's work? Maybe it takes a different kind of child than mine or maybe a different kind of parent-child relationship, I don't know. But he procrastinates and dawdles and whines and this is the easy stuff. Well, yes, it's boring, I'll grant you that. And... well... maybe not so easy for this child who tends to avoid any drawing or writing unless you insist and even then turns into a miniature lawyer pleading his case for the defense. So maybe yes, it's this child with his specific deficits that make for more difficulty and therefore more procrastination. But still. Man.

On the other hand, I sometimes find myself watching him work so diligently (once he starts), head bent over his work, concentrating at the dining table. It's such a picture of a young student. It makes me feel more like a parent in that specific media-portrayed way, mother to a student, helping with his homework. We've got the minivan and the mortgage and now the homework too. It creeps up on you, this image becoming reality. I find I rather like it.