I managed to muddle through the day, getting done some of those things I love to do, planning big and spending time trying to avoid being outmanipulated by three-year-old.
It was a challenge.
That took us up to school pickup time, so off we wandered, me pushing his bike up the hill, and trying to convince myself it is ‘exercise’. It would be much more enjoyable if he just rode in a straight line and didn’t spend much of twisting and turning and ‘experimenting’ with a variety of surfaces and non-surfaces on which he could traverse.
The bigger kids have some Home Projects to do for their Italian class. I hate home projects. They generally break me in one way or another. I read the information form; apparently, all the children have been discussing things they’d like to know about in Italian (or Italy). Things like art and architecture, cars and currency, animals, cooking, music, famous Italian women, the Roman empire … you get the gist.
Hmm, I thought to myself. This may not be as bad as it seems. Pretty straight forward actually.
The grade three kid (Godzilla) requires ‘parent help’. Monkey Boy is on his own. The project is to be displayed on a poster, with images, and written in both English and Italian. It has been explained clearly and we’ve been given a checklist.
Until I notice there is a small bit at the bottom, where the teacher has written the topic of interest for my particular children.
Godzilla has chosen ‘Roman Mythology’. What the fuck?! I think.
Monkey Boy has chosen ‘Italian toys’. Repeat previous thought.
So … tonight, post-dinner, I had it planned that we could google some stuff, get a start on the projects, whilst I sat with my butchers paper and coloured textas and planned bigger.
I pulled the big laptop out, which is pretty much fucked and not working. So got the little netbook out, which has reset itself in another language. It still does everything in English, which is nice, but some of the keys on the keyboard don’t reflect the one I am actually using.
I could barely get my head around Roman Mythology, let alone the nine-year-old.
(Yes, I could barely get my head around him and his thought processes. I also think he struggled a bit with the topic of the day.)
At one point, I stopped to just take stock, and discovered my activities of choice for the evening were:
- working on Roman Mythology project for Italian with nine-year-old
- combing for nits
Decisions, decisions ….