More of the invisible work of motherhood. From here at the Huffington Post.
For the uninitiated, Mommy Homework is the bane of many mothers’ lives. While perhaps intended to be an opportunity for bonding between parent and student, it instead frequently devolves into a parent Googling “How do you paper maché?” at midnight. It is dioramas in first grade, ancestor dolls dressed in authentic cultural costumes in second grade and re-construction of Colonial Williamsburg in fifth grade.
I have to say as a mother who works outside the home that I find homework extremely difficult to organise. If I was also a single parent it would just about break me. On the days I go off to work we don’t all set foot again inside our front door until just before the kids’ bedtime. Asking friends and family who pick up our kids from school and kindy, and who look after them for the afternoon and evening (including bathing them and giving them dinner), to also supervise their homework feels like a step too far. Fortnightly homework schedules are a little easier for me to manage because that gives us a weekend to catch up on all the homework. But my friend has this theory about homework; he says it is a capitalist plot to train children to unquestioningly do unpaid overtime in their jobs when they grow up, and I have to say I do wonder.
The other morning when I was rushing through the kindy/school/drop-Bill-at-the-train/get-to-work routine and I suddenly remembered Cormac’s kindy homework is to bring a picture for ‘sound of the week’ and that the letter was ‘o’ this week, and I then managed to find a picture of friggin’ okra in the house for him to cut out and take.. well, I felt like giving myself an effing standing ovation.