A little family resemblance between homework and my grocery list

I pull Ms. Cooper’s list of homework assignments out of my last-born’s book bag. Two of my other daughters have already had Ms. Cooper as their Grade 2 teacher, so I know this list by heart. I could have practically written it myself.

The first time I saw this list, I remember thinking it was ridiculously easy.
Homework is lax at this school, I thought. How was my daughter supposed to develop a strong work ethic if she never opened her book bag? She always knew her vocabulary words down pat because her teacher went over them in class, and she often finished all her homework at school. Everything was way too easy. My daughter even had time to read a book in class.

I decided to ask the teacher to assign more homework.
I kid you not. Hard to believe, I know. I was what I now call a “mother of an only child” or a “new mom”—full of hope, expectations, and naivety. I was overly involved in my child’s life. But that’s a topic for another day.

I knew that my daughter was gifted, but mostly, I felt like her school wasn’t challenging enough. The funny thing is that my neighbour thought the teacher was asking too much. She’d contacted her about the very same homework list, only she wanted it pared down. She was a “mother of an only child” too.

For nearly a decade, Ms. Cooper (who has taught almost all my kids at one point or another) has used the same homework list—give or take a few commas—year after year. Oddly enough, while it wasn’t challenging enough for my first child, I found it too challenging for my second and just right for the last.

So I stopped complaining and judging that cursed sheet and started looking at it as a guide.
Now it’s like the perfect shopping list, where I can tick off items based on what means I have available. When things are tight, I focus on what’s good for my kids. When I’m feeling flush, I throw in a few treats, such as more time for reading or extracurricular activities.

Rather than checking everything off the list on the weekend, I try to focus on what’s most worthwhile.
If, for instance, my daughter is struggling with French, we’ll spend the entire week—or even the whole year—concentrating on that subject. Afterwards, if we still have the time and energy, we treat ourselves by tackling one of the subjects she actually enjoys.

I’ve even written to Ms. Cooper:

Guess what she answered.

Common sense wins again! I’m looking forward to having a fantastic year.