Atomic Mom: Whats a mother to do?
Not “flu shots.” Not “chore chart.” Not even “Grandpa’s sauerkraut.” No, the two words that most set my family moaning are these: class project. It happens a few times a year. My grade-schooler brings home an assignment that promises to mock my poor parenting skills even as it converts my dining room table into a wasteland of Sharpies, index cards and — often, for some reason — cotton balls. Historic reports that lay waste to our weekends. Science projects that erupt in family arguments. “I hate them,” says a friend of mine, a mother of three. “They get expensive, take a ton of time on top of regular homework and, honestly, I don’t see my kids learning a whole lot from it.” That’s just the problem. I’ve never understood what exactly these projects are supposed to be teaching: Planning? Research? Handicraft? Super! But I’m a lousy instructor for those things, which is why I send my child to school. Why can’t I just educate him in laundry skills, phone etiquette and Egg-scrambling 101? A
