The other day my daughter cried...

I know that I can be tough. But, the reality is that she may not have the opportunity to be homeschooled forever. I would hate to have to put her back into the Charlotte Mecklenburg School system, but I can't predict the future. (And trust me, I would really, really hate to do that.)

So, I must makesure that I do my best to keep her on target or ahead of the game. In doing so, Christmas Eve we worked on a math lesson. The day before we worked on Division with remainders via an online program called "Time 4 Learning." I've learned to sit with Dove while she is doing her online lessons because she has the tendancy to just "go through it" without taking notes. After the lesson, she took the quiz and I found that she didn't really grasp the lesson. Therefore, I began to break it down to here, but ran out of time.

Christmas Eve we had to finish up the lesson. I went through the quiz questions one by one and showed her how to work through the problems. Then she took the quiz herself and told me she passed with an 80%, but I made her retest because she closed the quiz without letting me review it. "How can I help you with the ones you got wrong if you closed it up...that is unacceptable, repeat it." (Okay, I know I was a meanie, but it's the lesson of respecting me as a teacher that I'm trying to teach as well.)

After repeating the quiz, Dove called me to show me her score of 70%. But, again she had to repeat it because she failed to show the work. "How can I help you understand the problems if you don't do the work, what are you doing, guessing at it?" Again, repeat the lesson and she got a 90%. FINALLY! But not quite, she still didn't number the problems so she couldn't tell me what problem went with the work on the page. Ugh!!! So, I went to the profile to see her scores and that 80% she supposedly had was actually 60%.

Hmmm.... "So, why did you tell me you had 80% when you actually scored 60%? Why should I care so much about your education when you don't?" The tears began to swell up before she could even answer the question. As a parent, we already know what that means. She ended up locking herself in the bathroom crying.

"Meet me in the peace room, please." I called out. That's our space where we can talk openly. "So, why are you crying?"

"I feel unwanted. When you get mad at me because I don't do my work it makes me feel unwanted."

I actually wanted to chuckle at the dramatics. Unwanted? Okay, I had to take her feelings seriously since we were in the special room. "Dove, unwanted...really? Come on, I don't get mad at you because you don't do your lessons correctly, I get frustrated because I have to remind you to do them. You have a chore chart, but I still have to remind you to do the chores. You're ten, so why am I still reminding you to put lotion on your face and deoderant under your arms. I'm a single parent and it's just the two of us...I have to do everything and I want you to be responsible for things pertaining to you. Care more about your education that I do. Homeschooling is a priviledge. Me taking care of you and sacrificing the time to teach you is a priviledge. Me wanting the best for you is a priviledge, not your right. If something was to happen to me tomorrow, who else would make sure your grades are up to par? Who else will ask to see your lessons, read you books and make sure that you are exposed to life?" Of course, I went on and on. But I asked, "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes, you want me to be the best."

"Yeah, but more importantly, I want you to want to be the best. Be passionate about your life."