At this very moment I feel like throwing my dummy out of the cot.
Or crying into a rather large bucket.
Or taking an axe and chopping random things up.
Or just having a really, big, massive, enormous hug. And a schnapps.
Why? It’s homework again. And it’s not working. Despite the increase in Ritalin. Despite breaks. Despite having sat in the same room with him for more than three hours.
The table has been continually head-butted. Tears have streamed. Disturbed scratching has been observed. The throwing and hiding of work materials has taken place. Lying on the table, complaining, scribbling and continuous fidgeting have taken over the afternoon.
I have encouraged, answered questions, offered rewards, called Papa and I have really, really tried to stay calm but in an instant my patience left me and I exploded.
I told him to leave the homework, leave the table, leave the room.
To sit in his room, read a book, do whatever he wants except play on the Wii (as was the agreed reward for actually doing the work set for him).
Now any professional would no doubt tell me I’m doing it all wrong. And I probably am.
I am annoyed. Very annoyed. I am upset. Positively distressed.
If I never saw a piece of homework ever again, it would be too soon.
I hate homework more than that poor kid does.
To be honest, I would happily cut up all of the exercise books and all of the sheets and pop them into an envelope, with a little note:
From this moment on all homework is banned!
Of course, I’m too compliant to actually do that. More’s the pity. Although, evidently not everyone thinks so. A teacher with whom I found myself in an argument with, recently informed me that my son is, “Let off with far too much!” in her opinion.
Don’t worry. I made it quite clear I don’t give two hoots about her viewpoint.
Some days I feel like I can deal with my sons ADHD reasonably well. Others I just feel like shit.
Shit motivator. Shit educator. Shit negotiator. Shit pacifier.
Today has been one of those other days. Unfortunately.
The light in the deep, dark tunnel is flickering though. He came downstairs and apologised to me. Sat back at the table for around 45 minutes, struggling to keep focus and completed the 8 remaining sums. Of course, he also looked continuously out of the window, babbled like a hyperactive Mr Chatterbox and stabbed himself with a pencil.
But by night-time, his work was complete. And of his own free will.
Well, with a little stimulation from a well-known friend.
Thank you Nintendo for the invention of the Wii.