So Monday came after all and we are back to our comfortable routine.
The little hiccup of the morning came in the form of my sensitive first born. We use a wonderful vocabulary book called "Wordly Wise" Vol. 4. And part of each lesson includes reading a few paragraphs and answering subsequent questions. Well, she did quite poorly. Now mind you, I have a high standard for her. She is so smart and about a grade level ahead but the work today was shoddy. I suspect she was listening to the story I was reading to her brother rather than focusing on her work and it showed. Some of the sentences weren't even sentences. I pointed out each mistake and told her they needed to be redone. I also pointed out that she clearly couldn't have re-read the sentences after writing them because she would have immediately noticed the problems. Of course my daughter promptly burst into tears. She is competitive and hates not getting something right or not being praised. It may sound heartless but I flat out told her that I wasn't her cheerleading squad but her teacher and assigned her the work as homework to be completed by Friday.
Mom's a bitch.
And I wear that title with pride.
My mom was/is a bitch too. Frankly in my book that's praise. We women have to be bitches at times. My mom could be a real bitch and although I really hated her at times (especially when I was a rebellious teen) I am really grateful now.
My son too is beginning to see me as less of a cheerleader now. He is four. Time to man up. I refuse to praise a lousy artistic endevour. You know, the kind where they scribble something together in a few minutes and expect you to treat it like the latest Dali. Na ahhh. If I see something I know he put effort into and did his very best that's different. I am sure, if anyone were to ever read this blog I'd get an earful about quashing my childrens' creative development.
Das ist mir auch ganz egal....
(Figure that one out)
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