
Lily came home the other day and tossed her backpack on the table. I leafed through her homework the way I do every afternoon and stopped when I came upon something I hadn’t seen before. Two of her assignments from the previous day were only half finished. Her teacher had written, “Please complete by tomorrow.”
“What’s this?” I asked, holding the paper up.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” she said, glancing away.
“No,” I said calmly, “it’s something. Tell me what’s going on.”
She shrugged. “Mrs. S said I could just finish it by tomorrow,” she said. She didn’t look at me when she spoke.
Several weeks ago I had e-mailed Lily’s teacher and asked if I should be doing homework with her. I asked because when I did I thought I was giving Lily an easy way out. She would quickly finish and I would examine her results, asking her to fix the ones that were wrong. I wondered how doing so was helping her. (Click here to read my post on that subject.) My instincts were right and her teacher asked me not to go over the homework so she would have a better assessment of Lily’s strengths and weaknesses.
Up until now this system has worked fine. I always ask Lily if she completed her work and she always said, “Yes.” For some reason, she got lazy.
When I saw the incomplete homework I explained to Lily how disappointed I was. “If you try your hardest and fail, that’s totally fine with me,” I said. “But not trying and failing? That is never acceptable.”
I also made it clear that homework is not a choice, it’s a must. I expressed my surprise and said, “This isn’t the Lily I know. The Lily I know is dedicated and finishes what she started.”
She began to cry (this child was born with a wrist to her forehead and “Woe is me” tattooed invisibly on her brow). I ignored the tears and said, “Why didn’t you finish the work?”
She shrugged. “Are you mad at me, Mom?” she asked.
I paused for a moment, trying to figure out my answer. Was I angry? Not really. Was I surprised? Definitely.
“I’m confused,” I said to her. “I know you are a good student and I feel this work doesn’t show your best effort.”
Tears fell down her cheeks and she nodded. I asked her to go and wash up, have a snack and do her homework.
That night she showed me that she had finished her work. I saw that one she needed to complete was still not 100 percent done. “Are you sure you have done everything?” I asked.
She looked at the paper and said, “Yeah.”
I eyed her. “Really?” I asked.
“Well, maybe not,” she said, taking the paper from me.
This is the hard part about growing up with a strong-willed child, especially one that is different from her equally, if not more-so, strong-willed sister. I cannot tell if her defiance is to test me or if it’s because she just doesn’t want to do the work.
“Maybe it’s too hard for her,” my husband said.
“No, that’s not it,” I said. “If anything, it’s too easy for her.”
“Well, maybe that’s the problem,” he said.
I shrugged. “Who knows?” I asked. “I’m at a loss here.”
Luckily I called my therapist and made an appointment (I see her every few months or so for a mental tune-up).
“Some kids will just try to see what they can get away with,” she said to me. She must have seen the look of horror on my face because she added, “And that is no indication of what kind of child he or she will turn out to be.”
Before bed on the night Lily didn’t finish her homework I spoke to her about it again. I didn't go into detail but let her know how I felt. "I'm sorry," she said.
"Don't be sorry," I said. "Be better. The only person you are hurting when you don't finish is yourself."
The next day she came home with three new assignments. On one page I saw she had written, “Turn over!” I didn’t say anything about her handwritten note and went to do some work. That night she sat quietly and completed her assignments. “Look, Mommy,” she said, holding up the paper. “I wrote ‘turn over’ on here so I wouldn’t forget to do the other side.”
I smiled and said, “What a good idea! Did it work?”
“Yep,” she said. “See?” She held up the paper to show me she had done both sides.
“Good for you,” I said. “You must be proud.”
“I am,” she said.
Mission accomplished.
Photo by Vince Petaccio, courtesy of stock.xchng