I have five kids and they are all perfect.
They never drop the F-bomb in preschool.
They always clean up after themselves:
In fact, they spend all their time being loving and setting up elaborate parties for each other.
And that’s why it’s so easy to parent them. Take homeschooling, for example. It’s so nice to be able to hand your seventh grader a long list of challenging assignments in the morning and have her complete them all independently by lunch. It’s so comforting to know that you’ve done such a great job raising a responsible, hard working, and honest child that you barely have to check in on her at all.
Of course, it’s also total bullshit.
I gave Zoë a math test yesterday. As in, I handed her the two page test that covered all the material she’s been working on for the last few weeks and she blinked at it for about forty-five minutes. Now, math has never been her favorite subject, but this was desperate blinking. This was “Holy crap, I’m totally busted,” blinking. Around minute forty-one I watched her war with herself, trying to decide whether I’d be more disappointed with a lying child or a stupid one. See, it turns out that she hadn’t been doing all that work after all. She’d done some of it, yes, but she’d been stopping as soon as it got boring. Zoë has about a five minute attention span when it comes to math so you can imagine how that had gone.
When she finally fessed up, I saw real fear in her eyes. Fear and also shame. She wasn’t scared that I was going to unleash my wrath upon her (though that wouldn’t be unheard of) or ground her forever or send her back to “regular school.” She was scared that I would be disappointed in her, that she’d be permanently lowered in my esteem.
And I was disappointed. In myself mostly. Somehow I’d forgotten that good kids are still kids, and good people are still human. I hadn’t checked her math work in weeks. I’d abandoned my responsibility because she’d seemed more than willing to do it herself. And yes, it was disappointing that she’d lied, that she’d failed to hold herself accountable. But that isn’t her job. It’s mine. I’d taken the easy way out. It seemed unfair come down too hard on Zoë for doing the same thing. Especially since she’s twelve and I’m, well, older than twelve.
So we sat down with the curriculum manual and highlighted every assignment she’d skipped. Each stroke of green was both an indictment and a relief. Confession. “God Mom, I’m so so sorry,” she said over and over again. “Me too,” I answered. As we went page by page (she wouldn’t be allowed any texting or electronics or free time until she’d made up the missing assignments) she told me that she thought she should do all of her school work in the dining room with us. “It’s harder down here with all the little girls, but it’s too tempting in my room to just skip things.” In other words, she needs some help holding herself accountable. Of course she does. We all do. It’s why we join gyms, and bookclubs, and go to church, and 12 step programs. Can’t nobody do it alone, no matter how “good” you are.
I gotta be honest. I’m not looking forward to doubling the amount of checking and grading I do. Like Zoë said, it’s going to be harder. But that’s okay. I’m starting to believe that it’s supposed to be hard, all this parenting, and teaching, and life stuff. Especially if you’re doing it right.
Susan Hudson McBride
Once when my son was supposed to be studying Italian history he binge watched The Godfather and other historically based videos and fed me some BS. The upside was my introduction to Al Pacino. So, he was forgiven. Sort of.
Jen
Ha!
Kara
Wow, she owned up to making a mistake and came up with a constructive solution? I’d say that’s a major parent-win on your part!
My mom began homeschooling me in 5th grade because my test scores had dropped at the expensive private school and because I came home crying most every day (bringing a plastic lightsaber to school made me instantly unpopular. They were boring). Anyway, math became a daily battle. I fought and cried with my mom almost every day over doing my math work, and somehow she still managed to bring me up to grade level for that subject (which reminds me… I should send her flowers).
Let’s just say that I was not homeschooled a second year and I think your child sounds pretty close to perfect. You can give yourself a round of applause.
Jen
Thanks Kara! I think she’s pretty great even if she is fallible like the rest of us. The whole thing was, shall we say, a learning experience for both of us.
Kirsty
Thanks for this story. I am always taken aback when my oldest girl, always so hard working, so conscientious, steps out of line. I then need to check myself for expecting too much from her. We learn to navigate so many ‘first’ issues with an oldest child, and learn so much with them. . . It’s quite special.
Dianne
Like
Mitzi
Sweetest child!!!
Mariana
Hi Jen
My name is Mariana and I stumbled upon your blog a while ago, not sure how… I usually silently read your blog (and many others, but please don’t think I’m creepy) but somehow this post resonated with me.
Im 27 years old and doing ok but a few years ago I struggled with severe anxiety and depression. I was at college away from home – but not that far, as i’d come home for the weekend all the time. So I was sad at school, lost, with no friends. I started skipping it. Staying in my room, sleeping, watching series, crying, randomly eating some noodles or cereal to stay alive. When my mom called everyday I would say that day we were working on this project or that one, lieing about what i did and ate and felt… So months passed – and at the end of the school year I finally had to come clean and tell my mom I wouldnt have any grades – i didnt set foot inside school for months. Im not an only child but Im the only one in college. And i’d been a good girl, good grades and friends and behaving, a responsible daughter until then. And I saw the blow that it was to my mom and dad – but I understood that they were not mad at me for the lies – they were dead worried about me and they felt they had failed me, not noticing the signs. Im not really sure who felt worst at that time – so much guilt all around.
All this to say – it will be ok. Your daughter was strong enough to admit her mistakes and then even had the peace of mind to offer a solution on how she could better be held accountable… So far, at 12, she’s way ahead of how I was at 23! 🙂
So don’t be mad at yourself – we’re all humans after all, and we learn best from our mistakes. This lesson might not be in your homeschooling program but might as well be.. owning up to our failures, even if when things get out of hand. Next time she’ll know to ask for help sooner and better.
Sorry for the long post, just wanted to share some love..
:*
Anne Onnimice
Your honesty is awesome, Jen!