Letter to My Children: Hunger, Homework, and a Story
/Dearest Beloveds,
There is a particular iteration of Cranky Monster who arrives at school pickup. Her pointy elbows scrape my side. Her jagged teeth feed on cutting remarks and snarky asides. Your mother, as you both know, has a long and intimate relationship with this monster. We are buddies in a way.
She shows up when I am overwhelmed, hungry, thirsty, and overstimulated. So, I placate this monster when I see her dancing with you two with juice, snacks, and quiet.
She is why I don’t pepper you with questions the moment you get into the car. I want to give you both a chance to land from your day. Reset into yourselves, pause, and regroup.
And breathe and settle.
Regroup for sports and settle into insect collection walks for Dragon.
Fourth grade is teaching all of us new words and introducing us to our insect neighbors. Neither your father nor I knew the word katydid until you taught us. You wade into tall grass, net ready, laser focussed on movement from locusts, katydids, grasshoppers, and crickets. Plastic containers bounce and chirp overnight with little bodies. At school the insects feed the maw of your insectarium’s large female mantis.
For Bean, we have snack and juice to regroup for dance and solid homework.
Dearest, seventh grade has brought real homework. The grammar and math lessons in the textbooks from last year have been joined by science, history, literature, sentence, and news club. You are being asked to define the story arc of a narrative with accompanying climatic peaks and troughs. You are using a thesaurus to cull overused adjectives. You are learning whether a root comes from Greek or Latin. You need to memorize the U.S. presidents from Abe Lincoln onward.*
At the table you were looking at me and we were doing popcorn. “James Arthur.”
“James Garfield. Try again.”
“James A. Garfield.”
“Yes, my turn. Chester A. Arthur.”
“Grover Cleveland. Mom, these names are so silly!”
“I know, these are names from a long time ago. Benjamin Harrison.”
“William McKinley. Mom, why is homework so hard?”
“Homework teaches you discipline and focus. It teaches you organization. It teaches you to think critically and creatively. It feel nice to practice your skills, yes? I loved reading Charles with you and Thank you, Ma’am.”
“I guess so.”
“Your Momma uses all of what you are learning everyday and so does your father. It is what is being a responsible adult is all about. Self-motivation, organization, accountability, etc.”
“Mom, can we take a break?”
“Once more Abe through FDR - you can do it!”
Later that week Bean asked me to write a story for her. “Momma, you are writing all of the time about bugs and things. Can you write me a story?”
“Sure, what about?”
“About a beautiful cat, who has lots of friends, and magical powers, and she is super cute.”
“What does she want?”
“She needs to save the world from an evil dog and his food bowl.”
“His food bowl?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure you want her to be a beautiful cat? She might have more character if she had a twisted ear or something?”
“Nope. Beautiful.”
“Okay, I will do my best.”
Thank you both for being amazing and wonderful and growing and teaching me!! I love love love you both SOOOO much.
*Small aside - methinks a fascinating rabbit hole is discussing the official photographs and the showing of smiles/teeth in these men over the years. JFK was the first to break the stoic mold, then Gerald Ford doubled down on it. Akin to George W Bush and his use of the flag lapel pin which seems to have become de rigueur as well.
