Anticipating the results of weeks of hard work

For the past 3 weeks we've been caught up in a flurry of school-related activities. The older kids were bombarded with projects and tests, which usually have me all stressed out and grumpy.

Strangely, this time, I actually enjoyed most of it. I thoroughly enjoyed preparing the kids for their tests and it seemed that the less they knew at the beginning of their study sessions, the happier I was - because it enabled me to live out my 'homeschooling mum' fantasy, which I don't think will die very soon. This term Shakeel (14) worked quite well on his own - for the most part. He'd ask for help here and there, but I was happy to see that the study methods which we'd used over the years (when I used to work more closely with him) are standing him in good stead and allowing him to cover the bulk of the work without my assistance. 

Shakeel working on a project with his friend and classmate

Making time to play with one of his lovebirds

Working with Tharaa (11), on the other hand, took up the bulk of my time, energy and patience. In the previous post I mentioned how I would no longer write about my kids in a way that could embarrass or upset them when they read the post later on, so I'll just say that Tharaa and I had some challenging moments, but thank goodness, that's all behind us now. On the one hand I was alarmed to see that, a few days before her tests, she often did not even understand the typed handouts in her book (upon which all the tests were based). I am not one to automatically blame the teacher, as it is possible that she was not paying attention as she should have been. What was so alarming was the fact that she had achieved the top scores across the entire sixth grade during the first term, yet now, a few months later, she was completely baffled by the contents of her books. It also didn't help that the school's talent show, in which she sang and for which she had practised so hard, took place the night before she was scheduled to write History and Maths!!! 

Like I said earlier, although I was alarmed at the fact that she was so unprepared for her tests, I was thrilled to have this clean slate upon which to practice my teaching skills (because, really, she was a clean slate - it was as if she was seeing the work for the first time!) But I enjoyed it and she responded well. Maths required much revision of the basics and I let her use the invaluable khanacademy.org to brush up on her newly acquired skills. For the other learning areas (History, Geography and Natural Science) I firstly familiarised myself with her typed notes and textbooks, after which I set about explaining it to her. She grasped concepts instantly and answered questions accurately - which has me absolutely baffled as to why she did not know what was happening in any of these subjects when we started studying. After all, the study period is supposed to serve merely to refresh one's memory and consolidate that which one has already learned - especially at Grade 6 level. But, my concerns were outweighed by my own silent glee and pride (in myself) each time she yelled out, " NOW I understand!"  once I'd explained a section of work. (Yes, I know - I really need to get a hobby - or a job).

Written by Tharaa - dedicated to her best friends

Tharaa hard at work

Projects were an entirely different story. Her Natural Science project involved making an electric circuit using a battery, conducting wires and 2 output components (a buzzer and a light). They were required to construct a game using the circuit which would result on the buzzer or light being activated by the flow of the current. Although I understood that the game should involve closing a break in the circuit allowing the current to flow from the input component (the battery) which would then activate the buzzer and light, I had no idea how this would be done. Fortunately this type of challenge is what gets Mo (her dad)'s juices flowing, so together they built a game which earned a her 100%. 

Although I am happy with her result, I have a HUGE problem with this type of project, which clearly requires heavy reliance on an adult. Although I agree that parents should be involved in kids' education, what does this type of project mean for children of parents who have absolutely no education? Tharaa told us about a girl in her class being raised by a single mum, who submitted a cell attached to a light bulb, which sadly did not work. This girl only managed to get 30% for her and her mum's efforts. Why should children's grades depend on their parents' abilities and educational level? One thing is for certain - if I were the only one guiding Tharaa through this project, my daughter would have achieved far less than her friend's 30%. Why should the fact that my daughter had McGuyver to guide her, stand her in better stead than her friend whose parent's skills do not extend to building circuits. This project, in no way, reflected the ability of the kids to build circuits or even on their own understanding of their workings. 

So after much explaining, pain, confusion; followed by small moments of sweet victory, Tharaa's tests eventually ended. 

With the older kids' assessments and Aisha (3)'s new bout of unexplained tantrums, poor Nuha (8) once again fell through the cracks. I know that she too was busy with formal assessments, but I had very little time left to help her. She was preparing a project and an oral on solar systems, when - upon giving it a quick once-over (which, sadly is how I check her work most of the time) I came across words like "interstellar" and "centaurs",  which forced me to take time out to explain the concept of plagiarism and how one cannot simply copy huge chunks of information from Wikipedia. I got her to read each paragraph to me and then explain it in her own words before writing it down on her poster. This also made memorising the information much easier as she understood the concepts quite well. I really have to get the older kids to work more independently so that I can spend more time with my patient and understanding daughter. 

In addition to me neglecting Nuha's studies during the assessment period, I'd very often rely on the poor angel to keep Aisha busy so that I can focus on the heavy workload of the older kids. 

My most independent child (not by choice, poor thing)

Aisha, in the meantime, apart from throwing the most frightening tantrums at the drop of a hat, is also busy practising for her school concert. To maintain the element of surprise, parents are being kept in the dark about the performances, but I'm told that she surprises her teachers each time by coming out of her shell completely when the music starts and then proceeding to shake her booty shamelessly. 

So now we eagerly await the assessment results which we'll receive at the end of the school term (in 2 weeks time). We are also really excited about watching Aisha's very first concert this Saturday. The following few weeks therefore promise to be really exciting for our family as we reap the rewards (hopefully) of many weeks of hard work. Let's pray that it all pays off.

Aah crap - it's that time again

I spent part of yesterday afternoon converting decimals to proper and mixed fractions. I also spent a confusing few moments trying to fathom the best method to do seventh grade long division systematically. Maths, for me, has always been painful.

Yes, it's that time again. The kids' formal assessments and exams are, once again upon us, bringing along with it the usual stress (mine), tears (mine) and arguments.

Shakeel (13) and Tharaa (10) brought home their test time-tables last week, based upon which, I drafted study schedules - for them to ignore. Because, really that is what has been happening - I estimate how much time each learning area will take to complete and work out at what time they should move on to the next subject. They, in turn, just ignore my suggestions and do whatever they feel like doing.

I felt that leaving the two of them to work in the same area would be a good idea, since they could motivate each other and Shakeel could perhaps help Tharaa should she need it. That was the plan - in theory. In reality, working together has resulted in nothing but arguments, fights and mutual irritation.

''Stop singing!'' I heard Shakeel say irritably during last night's study session. To which Tharaa responded by singing more loudly.

''I'm going to hurt you!'' he threatened. Needless to say, she sang even louder.

He hurled a pencil at her. She tossed it back. He then got up and walked toward her threateningly.

''Mommeeeee! Shakeel wants to hurt meeee!'' she complained.

''She's singing. I can't concentrate!'' he responded angrily.

I had had enough. It was late and I'd been tolerating their shit since they'd come home from school. I snapped.

''If I hear another word from you two I will moer you both!'' I yelled like a depraved lunatic. They went silent, eyeing each other while trying to suppress their sniggers, thoroughly amused at having pushed their ordinarily-well-behaved mother over the edge.

Meanwhile, as usual, poor Nuha (7) fades into the background. We were not given a clear brief on the preparations required for her formal assessments, so I just focus on the weaknesses identified in her last report card, viz, retelling a story she reads - in her own words - to display comprehension.

But, then, as usually happens, Aisha (2) will interrupt the older kids, demanding attention with her bossiness and tantrums. So, sneakily, I have decided to kill two birds with one stone by getting Nuha to read to her little sister - and so doing, she practises her reading while babysitting her sister.

And to think, that in a few years time, I'll have FOUR schoolgoing kids preparing for tests and formal assessments. I can barely wait.

Image obtained here

Image obtained here

Friday evening at Sea Point with Maama

On Friday evening we decided to grant the kids a break from their formal assessment preparations and studying. (As opposed to them ''stealing'' unscheduled breaks by switching on the TV while we aren't looking).

So off we headed to Roman's Pizza in town.

The most exciting part of the outing was the fact that Maama (Mo's mum) was with. The poor woman was not granted a moment's peace, as the kids excitedly bombarded her with their overwhelming enthusiasm.

''Maama, look at this picture!'' they'd yell, practically thrusting a phone into the poor woman's face.

They showed Maama a video clip of Aisha (2) dancing to the song ''I'm sexy and I know it'', which was blaring from the next-door neighbour's home (since, not even shutting all the windows can keep out the party next door once they get started, Aisha must have thought ''if you can't beat them, join them''). Maama and the kids shrieked with laughter at the way Aisha shamelessly shook her body on the video clip.

We drove off to Sea Point to have supper by one of the parks.

On the way, the kids started to talk about their late grandfather (Mo's dad). They still miss Pappa so dearly. Maama reminded us that it has been more than a year since Pappa had died. And that prompted Aisha's stream of never-ending questions.

''Pappa died? Why did Pappa die?''

''Because he was sick,'' we answered.

''Why was he sick?'' she asked.

''He was really old,'' Maama explained patiently.

''Where is he now?'' she persisted.

We hesitated. This question was complicated and could lead to a myriad of other questions.

'' Erm, he's by Allah (God),'' Mo answered.

''Where?'' she persisted.

Silence.

She persisted, ''Where's Mr Pappa? Isn't he with his penguins?''

Trying to keep a straight face and clearly relieved at the change of subject, Mo answered. '' Oh yes. Don't worry - Mr Popper is with his penguins.''



 

Since it was almost time for Maghrib (sunset prayers), the kids - in order to maximise their outdoor playtime- opted to brave the cold and have their pizza in the park.

 

We watched them from the car, while admiring the beautiful sunset. The indescribable view from the car had us captivated in silent awe. Maama, who is a seasoned traveller, echoed the views of so many when she marvelled with admiration at, what she described as Cape Town's unrivalled beauty.

 

After a mere 30 minutes, we rushed the kids back into the car (to the expected moans, arguments and begging cries of ''Just five more minutes, Mommy. Okay then, just one more minute! Pleaaaase!'')

We arrived back home to catch the last few rays of light in the sky. I tried to capture the beauty of the pinkish-orangey hues on camera, but sadly, I am very lacking in skill as a photographer. (I really should make a point of reading the handbook, which accompanied my new camera).

The kids reluctantly said goodbye to Maama and returned miserably to their studies. Their grandmother, the social butterfly, headed off to her next social engagement for the evening.

What a welcome break from the formal assessment preparations and studies. It's truly amazing how the re-emergence of sunshine and warmer days makes even the dreaded formal assessment period more bearable. I hope we get to spend many more such evenings over the coming warmer months, of which I intend to relish every second.

Tired, frustrated and just plain g^tvol

Finally the end of the kids' exams and formal assessments are in sight. Tomorrow afternoon life returns to normal.


I cannot describe how happy I'll be when it is all over. With Shakeel (13) writing his first full-scale exam (as opposed to formal assessments comprising of class tests and projects), my stress levels have been through the ceiling. Combine that with the drama/ trauma of his high school applications and you'll realise why I feel like downing an entire bottle of Rescue Remedy right now.


I have been explaining, drafting questions, studying and memorising alongside them, trying all the while to keep them motivated and prevent them from being distracted. I've screamed, threatened, begged and bribed. I've pinched and punched and threatened to inflict serious bodily harm. I'm exhausted.


It would be easier for me to write all their tests/ exams myself, instead of trying to persuade them to study. Really, it would.


Tharaa (10) has surprised me with her ability to grasp difficult concepts and memorise them. However her playfulness is making me feel like I need to separate myself from her for a bit - before I give her a kick in the arse. Earlier I watched her fake-sobbing while answering the Economic and Management Sciences revision sheet I drafted for her. Before that I caused her to burst into heartbroken tears when I interrupted the game she invented - tipping her chair upside-down and then letting her stationery (pens and erasers) slide down its back one by one. Then, while we read through her notes on " The iron and steel industry in SA" she tensed her body and writhed in frustration because she could not join in the game Nuha (7) and Aisha (2) were playing. I cannot wait for her bedtime.


Shakeel (13) is writing Natural Science and Economic and Management Sciences tomorrow. He is complaining about being bored of studying the same work over and over, since he had finished studying for these subjects a while back. I'm concerned that his over-confidence could result in him making stupid mistakes. But I'm washing my hands of this problem and (perhaps stupidly) trusting in his judgement.


Tharaa still has to complete an entire section of work - and then revise. But she's on her own with that - there is no way I'm missing Isidingo (a popular local soapie) tonight - [what with Calvin being exonerated tonight and Rodney very likely being exposed as being Charlie's rapist. I'm soooo excited!!!] Don't judge - I've been trying to get her to study and revise all day - it's not my fault that she's only waking up to the urgency of her situation now.


Tomorrow this time exams/ formal assessments will be over. The mere thought has me giddy with joy.

[Later edited to add: Isidingo turned out to be a total anti-climax]

Bigfoot in a sexy mini skirt

Finally, after weeks of trying to get it right, I think we finally have.

By 18:00 yesterday I was heading for the shower- all homework had been completed, books signed and dinner was on the table, ready to be served.

The answer had lain in the re-shuffling priorities. Immediately upon arriving back home at 15:10 yesterday, we all raced to the television to watch the last few minutes of the repeat of 7de Laan. My excuse (luckily backed up by Shakeel's Afrikaans teacher) is that watching this light-hearted Afrikaans soapie helps with the Afrikaans grammar and vocabulary. No really- watching this programme has done wonders for my Afrikaans vocabulary!

Immediately after this programme ended at 15:30, I sat down with 7 yr old Nuha's Grade 2 homework. This was a strategic move- she has the least homework, so getting her to finish first means that there is someone to play with 2 yr old Aisha, who would otherwise spend the entire afternoon disturbing the older two kids, demanding that they play with her.

Nuha receives a list of 15 words each Monday to be studied for the test on Friday. The maths for the test varies. This week they will be tested on "counting in two's" . Since the teacher was absent Monday and Tuesday, they only received the list yesterday. Despite that, we managed to finish studying the spelling list- and she was able to count in two's effortlessly. Thank goodness, because- as planned, she was able to start drawing with Aisha; enabling Shakeel (12) and Tharaa (10) to continue with their work unhindered.

Every day Tharaa is given a list of 5 English words and 5 Afrikaans words; which have to be used in sentences which show that the child grasps the meaning of each word. The Afrikaans sentences have proven to be a bit tricky, as none of my kids are able to master the word order in Afrikaans sentences and tend to translate directly from English; resulting in clumsy lopsided sentences. The problem is that they don't hear Afrikaans being spoken at home, or even by friends and family. (Illustrating once again, that I'm not being a bad mommy by letting my kids watch 7de Laan when they get home from school).

Shakeel finishes his homework in class, while the other kids are chatting away in their free time. Not because he is a goody two shoes, but because he is hoping against hope that this will prompt me to let him watch an episode or 2 (or 3 or 4) of Naruto, 'the coolest series ever!!'

But instead, I rewarded his dedication by requesting demanding that he brings home all his books- I'm determined to get a jump on preparations for the March/April formal assessments/exams. So yesterday we learned all about earthquakes. Pretty interesting stuff really- for me, at least. I animatedly demonstrated to Shakeel how the tectonic plates, which lie adjacent to each other, move about- by holding my hands palms-facing-downward and moving them about like a DJ scratching his vinyl (Am I cool or what!)

To help him remember the concept of the seismic waves I moved my arms about in undulating motions (I knew my bellydance lessons would come in handy some day). Then illustrating the varying speeds of seismic waves I proceeded to speed up my arm waves (probably looking like a demented breakdancer) - much to the embarrassment and horror of my poor son. But, as mortified as he was, the information had stuck. I tested him on the remainder of 'Earthquakes' and we also touched on 'Volcanoes'. We learned so much yesterday- I am confident that, come March/April, I will be able to tackle any question in the exam with ease.

After spending the afternoon filling my head with knowledge for which I would be unlikely to find absolutely any use in my life, I set the table and phoned Mo to find out when he'd be home for supper. I proudly told him all we had accomplished for the afternoon.

Now because of the scorching hot summer we've been experiencing, I've gotten into the habit of prancing about the house in the shortest skimpiest little dresses- not for the sake of being sexy (obviously), but because having clothes against my body was just unbearable.

Neither the kids, nor Mo had said anything about this all summer, so imagine my surprise when Mo ended the phone conversation with, "Um, er- could you perhaps shave your legs before I get home?",

Imagine that!  I was about to start yelling in protest, telling him that I had enough on my plate and, excuse me if I didn't still have time for vanity, when I happened to look down at my legs. Yikes, how had I missed this? I looked like Bigfoot in a very sexy shift dress.

So there I was at 18:00 yesterday- with homework completed, books signed and dinner on the table, ready to be served. On my way  to the bathroom- not for a relaxing rewarding shower, but to hack away at the jungle that had been flourishing on my limbs. Mildly concerned about depriving any wildlife of their home. Fully expecting angry bats to come flapping at me, furious at being evicted from the habitat in which they had thrived, undisturbed for the past 6 months.

I emerged a new woman, strutting down the passage all smooth and hairless in my sexy little dress- to clean up the puddle of Aisha's pee in Shakeel's room.

The return of happiness

It was the much-awaited end of a dark and dreary period. The light at the end of the tunnel. The moment the clouds parted to reveal the glorious sunshine. The relief after hardship.


It was the end of the kids' formal assessments/exams.


The three weeks of formal assessments had been every bit as challenging as I had anticipated, and then some. It had been the very first time I'd had to face final formal assessments with 3 school going kids. And I was not doing well at it.


There was enormous pressure for Shakeel (12) to succeed, since he is facing high school in 2013 and it is important that he tries to get a bursary. Our frustration was that he had, until recently, achieved top marks for most subjects. Recently however, after a girl in his class beat him in one or two subjects, he has just conceded defeat. He will not even try to reclaim his position, and just accepts that he cannot achieve the same level of performance ever again.


His dad and I, out of sheer frustration, decided to provide some motivation for him.  He loves (and I mean really loves) his Playstation. He has wanted a 320 gig Playstation 3 with move for a very long time, so hubby bought it and showed it to him. He would however only get to keep it if he achieves the same level of results as before; otherwise it would be sold. So Shakeel put in immense effort (annoyingly not at all motivated by the prospect of being awarded a much-needed bursary), but in the hope that the Playstation will soon be his to keep. 


The formal assessment period had some weird effect on Tharaa (9). She became more playful than ever and just didn't take my threats, begging or even my punishment seriously. I'd give her questions to answer and find her drawing. Most of my energy went into getting her to focus or just to take the formal assessments seriously. 


Yesterday was particularly stressful, since she wrote her Natural Science paper this morning. I hadn't been in a particularly happy mood to start with, so her jokiness was even more annoying than usual. 


"Focus on your work. You are making me insane. You are going to be sorry!" she sang to the tune of Adele's "Someone like you", enjoying her irritating game of singing all my threats back at me. My head buzzed with four-letter words (while some managed to slip out, much to her amusement). 


Over the past few months (even before these assessments), Shakeel and Tharaa had taken most of my attention and time; the former because the stakes are so high this time and the latter because, well, I think she regards school work as a way to entertain herself at my expense.


In addition Aisha (2) is extremely clingy and does not want to share my attention with the others, which makes it very difficult to work with them. One particularly frustrating afternoon last week, as she  clung to me, I wished she had a little friend to play with. But then I thought, many kids who don't have friends, create them. So I pointed to a corner and said, "See Aisha, see the little girl. She wants to play with you." The poor child shrieked with fear and tried to climb up my leg- it turns out that she has inherited my fear of the unseen. For all I knew, the little girl she had been picturing was the little weirdo from "The Ring".


So, poor Nuha (6)'s homework has been neglected by me for a while now; with her dad doing it at the last minute outside the school gates before signing her homework diary. I had no idea what the poor thing was learning at any given time, as there was just too little time after they came from school in the afternoons. 


Last week she came home saying that I should help her with her spelling words, which she would be tested on in her formal assessments. They were doing the 'sh' and 'th' sounds.


"Spell 'wish'," I said, "as in 'I wish this formal assessment was over".
"W-i-s-h", she spelled out.


"Spell 'gosh' " I instructed.
"OMG," she responded earnestly, surprising me with her knowledge of internet slang (for which I blame Selena Gomez).


So this afternoon, I was ecstatic when they returned from school, signalling the end of the formal assessments. Finally I could breathe again, smile again-after three weeks of blood, sweat and tears.  And just in time to celebrate Tharaa's birthday tomorrow.

Two-year old's party halted by the fun police

Yesterday was Aisha's second birthday.

Two hours after she woke up yesterday morning, I was praying desperately that the year ahead would not be anything like her first few waking hours as a two-year old.

She has had a head-start on her terrible two's, since she's been throwing temper tantrums for months already, but I had optimistically (and unrealistically) really hoped that they would have fizzled out by now. Instead, it seemed like her biological clock was set with extreme precision. Upon awaking she had entered into this new phase with ease, by throwing the worst tantrum she had done to date.

Nothing I did or said helped. Everything made it worse. Eventually I managed to calm her down slightly by taking her outside, where I held her on my lap while I sat on the icy cement step overlooking our little garden. I distracted her by showing her the bees pollinating the flowers, the birds in the lemon tree and various insects crawling next to us. She looked at them unimpressed, and then looked up at me, as if challenging me to come up with something better- or else.

Something (maybe maternal instinct?) made me start to stroke her back while humming to her. She lay her head on my shoulder- satisfied, calm. I didn't dare move a muscle. I tried to ignore the icy cold of the step on which I was sitting. "It's all in the mind", I told myself, as I felt a cramp starting in my coccyx region.

Eventually it became too painful and uncomfortable. I slowly reached back for the doormat, slid it toward me, lifted myself and in one smooth movement, managed to plant it under me and sit back down.

Success.

But, little missy who had obviously been silently observing my audaciousness, sat up abruptly and ordered in a low voice, "Sit on bum!" What the heck did she think I was sitting on?

I panicked.

She repeated, more firmly this time, "Sit on bum Mommy!" I realised she was trying to tell me sit back on the cement, but I wasn't ready to suffer that again.

I acted as if I didn't know what she meant. "I am sitting on my bum, darling. See?" I said, pointing to my slowly-defrosting posterior.

She decided to make herself clearer.

"Put bum down. Bum off mat," she ordered, tugging at me. I decided to ignore her. After all, I wasn't about to let this little two year old dicate to me- an experienced mother of four. No way- I was about to reclaim my authority.

"No Aisha, Mommy wants to sit on the mat". I said bravely.

Then in a voice, which gave me flashbacks to scenes from "The Exorcist", she growled, "Bum off mat NOOWWW!!"

I leaped off the mat. She hadn't really won, I reassured myself. I wasn't a wimp. I was just giving in because it was her birthday. Next time she wouldn't be so lucky.

Hubby phoned home a few times, feeling nothing but affection for his sweet little princess. He missed her, wished he was spending her birthday with her instead of at work. My complaints about her tantrum-on-steroids fell on deaf ears.

Although we had decided to celebrate Aisha's birthday together with Tharaa's right after the formal assessments/ exams, hubby felt that his darling's birthday could not go uncelebrated on the day as well. He would bring home a cake or two and we'd celebrate as a family during the children's study break.

Study break? Celebration? With Shakeel writing Maths, English, History and Geography and Technology within the
following two days;  and Tharaa writing English, Afrikaans, History and Economic and Management Sciences within
the same period! What is this dude smoking? I asked myself incredulously.

But eventually I resigned myself to the fact that I was outnumbered. The children had been so excited about having a little party for Aisha when they came home from school and I did not want to come across as being the monster-parent.

The kids came home and I transformed from wimpy-mom-of-tantrum-throwing-Aisha, to a threatening, wooden-spoon-
wielding drill seargent. Books out, subjects prioritised and we were ready to get going with our study session before the little party.

The children were in no mood to study. They were too excited about it being Aisha's birthday. I couldn't get them to focus despite my use of threats, ultimatums and even the wooden spoon.

They were constantly singing "Happy Birthday to you" while studying. I just couldn't shut them up.

When relatives call to wish the kids, they always do so by singing the "Happy Birthday" song. She obviously did not have a clue that it was a birthday, so I think she just thought that everyone was calling to have a sing-along, which is what she did. Also, I think that she's under the impression that her name forms part of the song. She is not likely to be impressed in two weeks time when everybody substitutes her name for Tharaa's.

The little party was held- the older kids were in raptures, while two-year old Aisha watched them confused, no doubt wondering how they could be so relaxed during the exam (or was that just me?).

Hubby bought Aisha a Baby Born Birthday doll set, which she tossed aside to play with the plastic cupcake which came as part of the set.

The birthday cake was cut amidst shrieks of laughter and delight (in the exam!), with me making sure that hubby saw me intermittently checking my watch.

By the time the little party ended, the kids were too exhausted to study. I gave up. They had won. They had enjoyed themselves, laughed and sung despite it being exams (unheard of!).

This morning Aisha woke up, smiled at me sweetly and asked, "How are you Mommy?" She then sat up and hugged me.

Immediately, I melted and all was forgiven.

I will no longer hijack my kids' projects- I promise

It's hard to believe that schools are already starting the final formal assessments for the year.

These assessments usually are constituted by projects and tests.

So often I've heard parents (particularly mothers) complain that involvement in children's projects is adding to their already heavy workloads, with parents often contributing more than the kids themselves. Given South Africa's uneven wealth distribution, it bothers me that children who have a stay-at-home parent with a decent level of education, will have an advantage over children whose parents work full days, especially in the case where parents are very often not educated or even literate (and therefore not in the position to help the children with projects and homework).

My kids have the added 'advantage' in that they have a mom whose sense of self-worth is directly tied in to her kids' achievements (or lack thereof), and who is therefore obsessive about providing the necessary support and
motivation to ensure their success (so that she can feel good about herself).

My kids usually do their own research for projects, after which I will check, give input- and try to restrain myself from re-doing the entire project MY WAY, while they are sleeping. Their projects are usually a result of their own research and understanding of the topics- well, most of the time......

Two years ago Shakeel had to do a project on an influential South African. He selected Dr Chris Barnard and I had insisted that he use the public library instead of the internet (as I thought that he would score extra marks for extra effort). We took out 'Christiaan Barnard- One Life' by Christiaan Barnard and Curtis Bill Pepper, a 366-page book with the tiniest print you've ever seen; which I started reading on the way home. By night time, I was completely hooked and was reluctant to give up the book.

I completed reading the book over the next few days, and then proceeded to answer the assignment questions, which Shakeel had hurriedly jotted down at my request. Oh, I was so pleased with myself; not only for the fact that I had been able to answer all the questions without re-reading any part of the book or conducting any additional research, but also for my depth of understanding of the complicated medical processes explained in the book.

I completed my draft of the assignment in no time. All that was left for Shakeel to do was a cover page, contents page, introductory summary, bibliography and a blurb at the end of his project booklet.

I was pleased with my part of the project, so I did not even care to check his.

On the day the result was released, Shakeel looked nervous as he approached me. I (er, I mean 'he') had obtained a lousy 64%. I felt a wave of nausea as I sank onto the sofa- shocked, humiliated. After recovering slightly later that night I looked at the final copy of the assignment for the first time. My son had not bothered to attach a proper cover page, he had not done a contents page, summary or a bibliography. He had not even provided me with all the questions which had to be answered!

I know I should have been furious, but I couldn't help feeling relieved- the low mark was his fault, and not mine. Or was it? I wished I could approach his teacher and ask her to have my contribution to the project graded independently of his. (Yes, I know, I should be committed).

Let me hurriedly state that none of this should be a reflection on Shakeel. He had known better than to challenge his crazed mother as she took it upon herself to hijack his project.

My kids perform better in tests than they do in projects. In the early days I would question Shakeel on his work, ensuring that he did not leave the house on test morning until he could answer each question effortlessly. But, since I now have three kids at school and a demanding baby, I am training him and Tharaa to draft their own question papers, which they should use to study and revise. This is not always successful, as they still need so much guidance when drafting the questions.

On test mornings we usually try to maintain a calm and positive atmosphere in the house before they leave for school. (All threats like "Don't bother to come home if you get less than 80%" would have been made the night before). Previously I would worry the entire test day, wondering how they were progressing, but thanks to poor hubby, who often is forced to act as my therapist and life coach, I now try not to stress about things over which I have no control. 

At the moment Shakeel is busy with a project on one of the major religions in South Africa; while Tharaa's is on the planet Mars. At this point I must give myself a pat on the back- my only contribution thus far has been to point them in the direction of relevant websites and provide some books- which they could choose to use or not.

I think I should focus less on controlling their projects and work on an important project of my own- developing my own goals so that my sense of self-worth is linked to my own achievements instead of theirs. My kids will be so relieved.