I didn't think it would be possible to hate ..

.. homework more than I did in primary school but I do.

I have been fighting with Alex all day to get a reading journal entry done (a whole 15 lines of handwriting) and I am at breaking point. I gave up the opportunity to go out and see friends, do what I want to do, listen to music at more than a whisper, all to stay home and try to get him to do his homework.

I have tried sitting with him, prompting him. He leaned on me and complained he was tired.

I moved further away and ignored him. He ignored me right back and still didn't write anything.

I tried the assertive approach (do it or else I'll remove privileges). He said he didn't care.

I went the 'bribery' route and promised some internet time if he could just finish it before the beginning of the next decade. The sarcasm went over his head like a 747 and he went to get a drink.

I followed him to make sure he didn't put himself back to bed (for the third time today) and was told in no uncertain terms to 'get out of his face'.

I am now sitting in the study, hiding from him (and the rest of the world if you must know!) and listening to this child who was so exhausted he couldn't even get off the floor (where he put himself mind you!), laughing very loudly at a conversation his brothers are having in the other room, all the while swinging on the very same chair he couldn't find the energy to even sit on 10 minutes ago.

Another one of those things that mothers don't tell their as-yet-childless friends.

"You know how you thought that cats invented passive resistance and passive-aggressiveness? Nope. It was teenagers."

I don't know who said this originally but it rings oh so true for me today:

"Some days being a mother is like being pecked to death by a chicken."

Amen sistah, Amen!!