Some days I’m just in awe of Maddie. In a good way, of course. She has so many wonderful qualities that many of us only aspire to have. Other days, or maybe just part of the day, I feel like beating my head against the wall in frustration. I’m having one of those moments.
Maddie’s intellectual capabilities have never been in question. Often it’s the executive function piece that gets in the way, and tonight is one of those times. It’s Sunday night and even though it goes against my homework philosophy (or perhaps my Sunday evening philosophy), here we are at 8:42 p.m. dealing with the weekend’s assignments. It’s math and science tonight, her two strongest subjects. And I’m losing my mind.
Executive functioning consists of a group of mental skills that help you organize and act on information. With these skills, you can plan, organize, prioritize, pay attention and initiate tasks. Challenges with executive functioning make it difficult to keep track of time, make plans, finish work on time, multi-task, and look for information when it’s needed. And there it is: Maddie’s school problems in a nutshell. Each school year, the requirements in these areas become more sophisticated, and she’s not keeping up.
So tonight she started with geometry. It’s all new to her, but typically she has not needed help in math. In fact, last year when she was in Algebra, sometimes I would ask her if she needed assistance. Then I would look at the problem and ask her to explain it to me first. Ha! Math is taught so differently now than it was 30 years ago. I was hoping geometry, in which I was particularly strong, would give me an opportunity to be of assistance (if needed) again. I’m not so sure. So she got out her homework and dove in, while I ran out to buy more school supplies (the lists keep coming!). When I returned, I discovered she had completed quite a few problems but when she got stuck on one, she was paralyzed. She just stopped. She didn’t move on to another question she could do. She didn’t get our her science while she waited for me. This kind of thing doesn’t occur to her.
We got past that question and she resumed, and I went into the other room to work. I returned, and the very same thing had happened again despite the conversation we just had regarding what to do in such a moment.
Eventually she finished her math and went on to science. The assignment? read a chapter and take notes. NOOOO! She can read quickly, but the note-taking is challenging, and she is very resistant. It’s now time for bed (early bedtime for my reluctant early-riser). She finally finished the reading but couldn’t attack the notes. And I was mad. Mad at her for waiting until the last minute to do her work, and mad at myself for letting it happen. And I was frustrated with the entire process. I can wax poetically about how much I love Maddie just as she is, but in times like this I feel my body tense up and my brain feels full and the frustration and anxiety are overhwelming. I’m exhausted. Done. Over it. Maybe I’ll change my name and run away and live on the beach forever. I happen to know a few other moms who might want to join me. It would be so easy and relaxing!
She went to bed without having taken any notes. What could I do? While most kids would be probably just stay up late and complete their work, allowing Maddie to do that just opens another can of worms. The mornings are hard enough without a late night. So she went to bed without completing her weekend homework. Ugh. I am counting on this stuff to fall into place, at least a little bit, this year. Boarding school is rearing its head in my mind. I haven’t thought about it much the last couple weeks, but I think it’s time for me to at least make a plan. Just in case.
There were a couple of factors leading up to the problem tonight. One is Maddie is truly unable to estimate the amount of time a task will take. You know how you could guess the time of day within maybe an hour or half hour? She couldn’t even take a guess. If she has 15 minutes to take a shower, she will have no idea how to make that happen. You would think that a clock nearby might help, but she would have to actually look at it. She doesn’t even think of it. So estimating how much time she would need to complete her homework is impossible. Ten minutes or two hours? She doesn’t know. It certainly is difficult to make any plans if you don’t even have a clue. The other problem is her inability (and clearly lack of motivation) to seek out information to help her complete a task. So when she got stumped, she didn’t call out to me for help. She just stopped until I happened to return. So much time wasted without any time to waste.
And then there were the distractions. The cat came in. Distraction. My husband and son returned from a weekend trip. Distraction. The dog was cute. Distraction. An opened drawer, a sound outside, a misplaced pencil (get up and get another one!). All distractions. She is at times able to focus and really perform, and other times are much like this evening.
Unfortunately I was also tired, and eager for her to get to bed because of the inevitable morning nightmare. At least if she gets to be early we have a chance that I won’t lose my mind before 7:00 in the morning.
So tonight, although I adore this child of mine, I wished she had thought ahead, worked diligently, made good decisions, engaged in problem solving, and done this all on her own volition. I didn’t want to spend several hours on a Sunday evening micromanaging her homework. I’m feeling a bit discouraged for the moment, and I’m dreading the start of another week in which the next five days might unfold just like tonight. I hope we have at least one good night. Two would be even better. I hope the week starts with a peaceful morning.
Here I am again, hoping for the best. But at the moment, not really expecting it. If tomorrow is a good day, my optimism will return. I just take it day by day, holding on to as much hope as I can.
The Year of Living Hopefully 