There is no good time to do homework
We've tried it later in the afternoon, hoping that giving him a chance to blow off steam before settling in will improve his concentration.
No way am I willing to try it close to bedtime - not when he tends to turn it into a two-hour session at least once a week.
Although this is starting to sound like the Facebook purse meme that circulated last month, it's not. Bottom line: If there's a good time for Big Guy to do homework, finding it has been about like my efforts to "cure" insomnia. Nothing seems to work.
So maybe it's not the time, but the place. OK ...
We've tried it at the kitchen counter with snacks, which has been our default location for two years.
We've tried it in the dining room. That's the backup location when the guys start bickering and scribbling all over each other's papers.
We've tried it on the patio - but not in the front yard, as Big Guy often pleads."I promise I won't play with my friends until I'm finished." Yeah, right.
We've tried it under a Thomas pop-up tent in the living room until the guys started fighting over ownership of the tent. The Bank of Mom had to foreclose on the property.
There has to be a place somewhere on this base where Big Guy will do his homework, if not cheerfully, then without screeched complaints. And in less than two hours.
I've yet to find it, though. If he complained and moaned every evening, it might be easier. But he doesn't. Sometimes he's done in a half hour. That makes this as difficult to nail down as colic - I actually used to keep a spreadsheet on that when he was a baby in hopes of discerning a pattern. Silly mommy!
Lacking a pattern here, I'm tempted to plop his little butt in the middle of the Mojave and let him bake until he finishes, but I fear the MPs would frown on that.
Copyright 2010 Debra Legg. All rights reserved.