I have a Mom confession.
I probably shouldn’t say this, but here goes…
Helping my daughter with her makes me feel like a complete failure.
I hate homework.
I almost whisper to say this. I wish I could write in whisper. I wouldn’t want my teacher’s pet/nerd rep to be tarnished by such as admission.
I haven’t been a formally enrolled student in over 15 years. My daughter and boon travel companion, Miss Pickles, is in 2nd grade. Helping her with her homework makes me feel woefully inadequate. Like I shouldn’t call myself an educated person anymore. Even though I’ve earned 2 degrees, I feel as if I wouldn’t pass second grade had I to do it over again.
Why the Salty Tears?
For me, the main issue is methodology. I was schooled on memorization and tables. Remember timed tests and math drills???
Yup, totally old school.
Apparently, memorization is the way of the dinosaurs. Although I must say, it worked, because I still remember… but nobody asked me, soooooo.
Today’s method involves learning one or two facts in order to figure out the third fact.
So you mean to tell me, that learning 2 things in order to know the third thing is better than just memorizing the thing that you needed to know in the first place? Yes, that’s the prevailing logic.
Excuse me while I bang my head on the table…repeatedly. The concussion I would likely sustain would arguably be less painful.
But for now, I have to get back to our homework. And then afterwards, I have that wine.
Hang In there!!
Dr. Peaches
