Aww msbelle, I think you and I are proof that massive guilt is pretty much one of the hallmarks of parenting. It is not proof positive of bad parenting. I agree mac is lucky to have you, and it's clear how much you love him even when he drives you nuts.

So this afternoon has been OK homework wise, despite my whining earlier. Isaac at least has a reasonable homework load tonight. He asked to rewrite his "About Me" poem so I'm getting a chance to see it. It has lines like "Who fears the Apocalypse, monsters, and the darkness" and "Who would like to become a dragon rider." What was that you were saying about imagination, Maria? Yep, that's my boy.

Meanwhile my girl is getting her bottom row of brackets put in. I'm expecting her to be a little cranky later, but I hope it doesn't mess up homework too much because I have to write part of a grant proposal tonight.

Which I guess boils down to "parenting is hard, but there are lots of good moments too."

So this is what I have to look forward to, huh? ::starts panicking::

Um, sorry Sheryl!

I have decided that I'll do my best to work only one way on the shuttle, probably in the AM. On my way home, I will watch something, listen to a podcast, or read a book

That seems like an excellent plan.

And I totally find myself sometimes overwhelmed and almost weepy, when I'm tired and having to deal with something--add teenage hormones and I can totally see basic addition getting to be Too Much. Poor kiddo.

You guys, my parents never helped me with my homework past elementary school. I was pretty much left to my own devices. But I was nerdy enough to do it anyway.

My mom was an accountant. She thought she'd be able to help me with my math homework. But it was the New Math, and she didn't know what the teachers wanted, and I was as upset by her confusion as my own. Like, if my mom can't do this, I sure as crap can't!

Emotional support through, um, no actual physical contact but virtual light physical contact

I see what you did there, Dina.

I probably didn't have anything beyond spelling practice as homework until mid-elem. I usually had an hour or two in jr high/middle(switched halfway through, so only 1 year of each.) 2+ a night in high school, but I was on the AP track. I was a very self-driven kid. My parents got roped in to proofread (mom- she always called me out on my excessive wordiness and bs-ing) and help when I got stuck in math (dad. He actually taught me one semester of algebra because my teacher sucked so bad. And then I'd teach several other students. We were the only ones from that class to remain on the ap calc track.)

My parents had no idea what hit them when my brother hit middle school. He just didn't give a fuck. My redhead mom went white at the temples and oh my god, so much drama. He was, and is, smarter than me. But he had other things he'd rather be doing. Even now, he talks about how he lacks ambition and still coasts, but the thing is... I was Good At School. I liked that. I was content with that. It doesn't translate to great ambition. I'll never be super driven, but I'll just be Good At What I Do. Not great, not ambitious, easily prone to a rut. I panic at what would happen if my job falls out from under me. I have no plan. When he started giving a fuck, he got focussed and made himself expert and indispensable. But still made time to do the other things he'd rather be doing. Family, cars, building furniture out of car and plane parts. I actually am amazed at how much he always has going on.

Yeah, I don't know what I'd do with a kid who wasn't self-motivated, because I just did all the shit I was supposed to do. And was Good At School.

"parenting is hard, but there are lots of good moments too."

Wednesday is my wife's late night at work, so last night I had the boys on my own, and they were pretty obnoxious. Cranky, easy to take offense, stubborn, and dawdling. I have a big project at work, so I was probably obnoxious too, and by the time I coaxed them into their beds we had all had about enough of each other.

Then, as I was tucking one boy in, I saw the other boy tenderly tucking in his teddy bear and saying "Goodnight Teddy, I wish you dreams of flight tonight." Dreams of flight? Ok, all the struggles are wiped away.

Then, early in the morning, the other boy comes in and wakes us up--usually a bad sign. But this morning he says "Mommy, Daddy, can I tell you something?" 'Yes, son?' "I love life! Thank you for giving me life!"

I can coast on that for weeks.

I don't think my parents ever helped me with homework, though if Mom hadn't helped me with memorization drills I wouldn't have been able to get a B in my college Survey of Art History II class. (The professor graded on a strict bell curve in a class with 7 students, so I could score 95s on the tests and still not get the A that went to the empty-nester who could treat studying for that one class as a full time job.)

I slept with all the windows open last night and today was a sneezy body full of achy joints and muscles. I think my 'allergies' largely manifest as full body inflamatory response. My toes ached. Finally making the connection.

Not a fan. My mom has had arthritis since she was a kid. Can't recall what kind, but I'm definitely predisposed, so not amused.