Here’s a job I never applied for: Homework Doula! Oh, it’s thankless, uphill-battle kind of work. It involves crying, yelling, throwing one’s body on the bed, denying, lying, resigning oneself to one’s fate. I think also candy and wine are also part of the deal. I’d rather not be involved with the kids’ homework, since I listen to one childhood podcast that recommends to keep school work between the student and the teacher, that it’s important to show mistakes so the teacher can identify areas for improvement. This jibes with like my goal to be more hands-off when it comes to academics, which is the opposite of my mom’s approach.
As much as I like to play the role of an extra in this pandemic, when we discovered Wonder Twin Boy has 39 missing assignments, we have no choice but to get involved, and it’s a two-person-team effort! Husband is creating Boy’s state project on Hawaii and I’m practically ghostwriting a feature article on Minecraft.
It reminds me of my third grade project on South Korea that must have slipped my mind, because over the weekend, my parents got to work. Mom wrote out paragraphs on Korea that I rewrote in my own handwriting and Dad cut out pictures from a South Korea tourism book to glue to my poster board. That pretty much meant they did my homework, and I turned out okay. There’s hope for all of us yet.