Hardly the Gulag

 I remember when we had a couple of little kids, and they went to bed at 7, and then...what did we do?  We must have watched TV.  I know I played in an orchestra on Monday nights and another one on Thursdays, and taught a few violin lessons.  Scott watched entire basketball games and even entire golf tournaments.  We probably went to bed before midnight, too.  What else was there to do?  We couldn't access the internet while the kids were asleep because of the screeching noise it made when it connected.  Remember that noise?  Remember, "You've got mail!"  Ah, life was so simple in 1998.

Life hasn't changed much in some ways.  Now, we have a little baby who generally goes to bed by 7:30, and a sweet little preschool boy who gets tired by 8.  Of course he's tired; he has preschool on Tuesdays and Thursdays and ballet on Thursdays and a whole lotta learning in between: numbers, colors, letters, (specifically which ones are silent, such as P and T. ;)

 Tolly had a program today where he sang songs for the moms and dads.  Miss Sharla is the best preschool teacher, and we love her.  Golda is so envious of Ptolemy's "homework;" tracing shapes.  After the hard-working little singer was tucked in bed tonight, there was still no TV.  TV distracts whoever is working on the kitchen computer.  There was no reading, unless you count sixth grade essays.  Thursdays are generally pretty quiet around here.  Everyone is home by 6:30, so it's a big homework night.  For Scott and me, our lives of leisure don't start until well after 10 pm, when most of the worker bees have closed the books.  By that time, Scott is asleep.

 Freestone was reading Harry Potter in French and writing down vocabulary words he didn't know, using the Collins French dictionary on his kindle.  He was wearing headphones to block out the noise.  He still had to make a marionette costume and do a couple of math worksheets.  Ari was working on her daily vocabulary words and writing a story.  She generally has 2 to 3 hours of homework a night.

 Xanthe was doing geometry in French.  I mean, seriously.  She is in third grade and is doing homework I never did, even in college!  Geometry in a foreign language?  To me, geometry IS a foreign language!

 Golda, working on a second draft of an essay about Huck Finn's lies and deception.  This girl brought Huck Finn to a baby shower Saturday.  I called her a nerd, but she pretty much takes her reading everywhere, because every minute counts.

 This is Ruby all day and all night, except for when she's teaching, practicing or at ballet.  Tonight, she is putting in two hours on math.  And I suspect she still has practicing to do, as does Golda.  I don't mind hearing those melodies late into the night!

 Freestone does two reading logs every week, one in French and one in English.  He just said to me, "I have to take my reading logs very seriously."

 Xanthe had crazy hair day on Wednesday, but she didn't want to get any crazier than French braids in her bun.  She said, "I don't really do crazy hair day, because I have to be ready for ballet after school."  She is hyper-organized and spends a lot of time making sure her ducks are in a row.

Here is my homework for the day:  a high school boy dropped a water bottle on his violin, causing a crack and a broken bridge.  Poor kid!  Emailing me pictures of the crack and arranging the repair probably took away from his study time, not to mention his practice time!

Sometimes I complain about homework, but there is something about it that I secretly like.  I resent it when it interferes with practicing and family time, but I like it, too, because these kids are learning so much.  They are accomplishing so much.  I admit, I've been influenced by the book I just read, "The Triple Package."  It looks at seven minority groups and why they succeed in America.  One of the groups is Mormons.  It's interesting.  But the question is raised as to whether childhood should be a time of freedom, laziness and unbridled happiness.  Some people think childhood should be a time of preparation, learning, trying, failing, persevering.  I tend to agree.  Childhood, up until high school graduation, affords kids the time to learn that no other time in life affords them.  Besides, their brains are elastic and thirsty, so it's far easier for them to learn than it is for adults.

I suppose for me, I'm more comfortable with the notion of my kids applying themselves to semi-difficult tasks for long hours each day than I would be watching them fritter away their valuable time not accomplishing anything.  The opposite case can be made, for sure, and my kids could certainly spend more time wandering in the woods, "just being kids."  But I think all this hard work brings happiness that huge chunks of free time can't.

I asked my ballet students, "What else do you do in your lives that is as difficult as ballet?"  With pride, many of them mentioned practicing piano or violin.  They talked about soccer drills and science fairs and math and play practice.  One girls said, "Ballet is the hardest and best thing in my whole Wednesday!"  That makes me happy.  That's exactly what I'm trying to say.  The hardest stuff brings the most satisfaction, and the satisfaction is what makes those rare free days so rewarding, but only if they're rare.  Only if they're rare.