worst

Two words I hate to hear my kids say: "I can't."
I do realize that there are, indeed, things they can not or should not do, but I'm not referring to a situation like that. I'm talking about times when they don't want to, which is entirely different from can't.

I will say something like this in response, "If you need help, ask for it. But you need to try, because this is something you can do."

DD has an animal project due. She chose jellyfish as her animal, and we did the research before our week of craziness last week. We looked up information in several books we had at home, and found information online at Encyclopedia Brittanica and the Oregon Coast Aquarium's Jellies site. (It's very cool; they even have a jelly-cam.) We both learned a lot about jellies.

First, we read through all the information on two seperate occasions. Then we listed the facts that she wanted to include in her report, and she told me the wording she wanted to use. Then we mapped out how it would look on her posterboard, and she drew and labeled the jellyfish parts in the center. Since there is a lot of verbiage (relatively speaking), I wrote it out in pencil, and she went over it in marker. I'd say she spent a good two hours on it, Friday afternoon, and she did a really great job. We found some pictures on the web to use, and I drew Plankton (hee!), and we cut and pasted the pictures onto the poster.


I really think the poster came out great:


Here's the thing: the poster is not the entire project. She also has to give a presentation to the class, basically going over the information on the poster.

We've been over this material at least 6 times now. Should be a piece of cake for my bright girl, right?

I wish -- and I do, fervently, wish that it were so. When I said, "C'mon, let's do this," she dragged her feet but came anyway. She wanted to play with her brothers. What came next could only be described as a disaster, as she simply would not focus and kept guessing or making up stuff -- when all she had to do was simply read (or remember) what she had written on the poster, which was right in front of her!

I know exactly what she was doing, she was trying to get out of it by not trying. She succeeded, because I finally got tired of pushing her to just read the damn poster that I quit. I told her we could just put the thing in the trash and she could get an "F" for all I care, because it was obvious that she doesn't care at all.

For today, anyway, the worst thing for me is seeing my brilliant girl pretend to be stupid just because she wants to get out of some work. This is a recurrent theme with her. Reading with her is like pulling teeth, because she will forget a word she just read 5 words ago (not 5 pages or 5 sentences, 5 words, ago!) With practice she will be an excellent reader, but for now, for her, it is just too much work and she doesn't want to be bothered. She is excelling at her classwork, it's true, but her classwork -- even the challenge classwork -- is so easy for her, she does it without blinking, never mind even breaking a sweat. The thing is, I remember being like that, and it was a surprise -- a shock, really -- when I finally hit upon something that was difficult for me (for the record: Organic Chemistry, and Physics for Masochists with Calculus, both freshman year of college.)

Another bad, bad aspect of this situation is that I am not capable of motivating her to try harder, to actually do the work. When I say something, whether positive or negative, all she does is cry -- she has found that crying can get her out of almost anything. I endured a good 10 minutes of wobbly lower lip and full eyes before I finally quit this morning, not because of the crying but because we were getting nowhere. She wouldn't try, and there's no way I can make her. She has to want to do it for herself, and if she doesn't, well -- what can I do?

This kind of dilemma is exactly what makes parenting so scary. She's six years old, now. What about when she's 15, or 23? The kind of work that will need to be done then is a lot more serious and will have a lot more lasting consequences than a kindergarden project. We're going to have to figure out some way for her to motivate herself. At this point, it's nothing too serious or important, but some day, it will be.