School days
Before I had children, I used to imagine what it would be like to work with a brand new, very plastic mind just waiting to be filled with data. I thought, quite enviously, of how lucky my children would be. I mean, seriously, imagine being raised by a smart physician mom whose only goal in life is to channel as much information into the developing brain as humanly possible. I spent hours dreaming up all the things I would teach them. When you have only your imagination to chaperone, the possibilities are endless.
Unfortunately neither of my children adequately appreciate the incredible benefit of being raised by such an intelligent parent who is eager to impart knowledge, skill, and wisdom. In fact, child #1 seems to delight in thwarting parentally driven educational endeavors (see previous blogs). This preamble leads up to the first week of school.
Michael is in second grade this year. I pretty much let him play last year but this year I'm expecting him to actually buckle down and do some "real" school work. To be clear, I've scaled my expectations down exponentially from my original machinations. His "buckling down" consists of 15 minutes of spelling, 15 minutes of math (mostly games), 30 minutes of science (lots of experiments), and 30 minutes of Spanish. That's ONE hour of school with me. He also does 30-45 minutes of Greek and History with my dad. So he has max 1 hour and 30 minutes of school per day. Michael considers it a jail term and often fondly refers back to last year when he was able to play all day long (like he isn't playing MOST of the day now...). But I digress.
We started school. And with great gusto I introduced second grade spelling to Michael. I did do first grade spelling with him last year but he finished it by December. So, it's been almost 9 months since he's reviewed spelling. I started this year off by reviewing last years material. The first couple of days, Michael was as interested in spelling as my dog is in taking a bath. He had forgotten ALL of the sounds and every single rule. I tried really hard to be patient as we basically relearned all the sounds and reviewed all the rules. Finally, he seemed to be at a level we could start reviewing words. To my astonishment, he got every single word right (never mind he couldn't remember the rules...) until we got to "ball." He spelled it "BALL."
"No Michael," I gently interjected. It's 'BOLL' We don't pronounce it băll. We pronounce it bŏll."
"But Mommy," Michael insisted. That doesn't look right. I'm pretty sure it's 'ball.'"
"Nooo, honey." I crooned, oh so ignorantly. "It has to be 'boll' because we use the short sound of 'o.' Let's review all our short vowel sounds."
We reviewed all the short vowel sounds and I explained how it has to be the short 'o' sound not the short 'a' sound and therefore ball HAS to be spelled 'boll.'"
Michael was not to be deterred. He kept insisting I was wrong.
I was starting to lose my patience. I had just spent 15 minutes explaining why "ball" has to be spelled "boll" and not "ball" and my son was still not getting it.
"Mommy," he insisted. "Just ask Siri."
"I don't need 'Siri' to tell me how to spell 'ball!' I fumed. Why do you insist on spelling it incorrectly. Haven't I just explained to you WHY it has to be 'BOLL.'"
"PLEASE MOM." He begged in desperation. "ASK SIRI HOW TO SPELL BALL!"
"FINE," I stated a bit too loudly. "I WILL PROVE MY POINT."
I turned to my cell phone. "Siri, HOW DO YOU SPELL BALL?"
"There are 3 words pronounced like that '-ball,' 'ball,' and 'bawl.'"
I sat in stunned silence. I mean, where do you go up when you've gone down so far? I'm a pediatrician. I have an MD and an FABP after my name and I can't spell "ball."
And so, I have crawled into a mental hole where I can lick my wounded pride and hope that my son isn't scarred for life when he finishes spelling under my tenure.
Unfortunately neither of my children adequately appreciate the incredible benefit of being raised by such an intelligent parent who is eager to impart knowledge, skill, and wisdom. In fact, child #1 seems to delight in thwarting parentally driven educational endeavors (see previous blogs). This preamble leads up to the first week of school.
Michael is in second grade this year. I pretty much let him play last year but this year I'm expecting him to actually buckle down and do some "real" school work. To be clear, I've scaled my expectations down exponentially from my original machinations. His "buckling down" consists of 15 minutes of spelling, 15 minutes of math (mostly games), 30 minutes of science (lots of experiments), and 30 minutes of Spanish. That's ONE hour of school with me. He also does 30-45 minutes of Greek and History with my dad. So he has max 1 hour and 30 minutes of school per day. Michael considers it a jail term and often fondly refers back to last year when he was able to play all day long (like he isn't playing MOST of the day now...). But I digress.
We started school. And with great gusto I introduced second grade spelling to Michael. I did do first grade spelling with him last year but he finished it by December. So, it's been almost 9 months since he's reviewed spelling. I started this year off by reviewing last years material. The first couple of days, Michael was as interested in spelling as my dog is in taking a bath. He had forgotten ALL of the sounds and every single rule. I tried really hard to be patient as we basically relearned all the sounds and reviewed all the rules. Finally, he seemed to be at a level we could start reviewing words. To my astonishment, he got every single word right (never mind he couldn't remember the rules...) until we got to "ball." He spelled it "BALL."
"No Michael," I gently interjected. It's 'BOLL' We don't pronounce it băll. We pronounce it bŏll."
"But Mommy," Michael insisted. That doesn't look right. I'm pretty sure it's 'ball.'"
"Nooo, honey." I crooned, oh so ignorantly. "It has to be 'boll' because we use the short sound of 'o.' Let's review all our short vowel sounds."
We reviewed all the short vowel sounds and I explained how it has to be the short 'o' sound not the short 'a' sound and therefore ball HAS to be spelled 'boll.'"
Michael was not to be deterred. He kept insisting I was wrong.
I was starting to lose my patience. I had just spent 15 minutes explaining why "ball" has to be spelled "boll" and not "ball" and my son was still not getting it.
"Mommy," he insisted. "Just ask Siri."
"I don't need 'Siri' to tell me how to spell 'ball!' I fumed. Why do you insist on spelling it incorrectly. Haven't I just explained to you WHY it has to be 'BOLL.'"
"PLEASE MOM." He begged in desperation. "ASK SIRI HOW TO SPELL BALL!"
"FINE," I stated a bit too loudly. "I WILL PROVE MY POINT."
I turned to my cell phone. "Siri, HOW DO YOU SPELL BALL?"
"There are 3 words pronounced like that '-ball,' 'ball,' and 'bawl.'"
I sat in stunned silence. I mean, where do you go up when you've gone down so far? I'm a pediatrician. I have an MD and an FABP after my name and I can't spell "ball."
And so, I have crawled into a mental hole where I can lick my wounded pride and hope that my son isn't scarred for life when he finishes spelling under my tenure.
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