Doing the work

I’m helping my daughter study for her upcoming midterms and am reminded of how much we all want to be great at what we do, but sometimes hate the work and effort required to actually get where we want to go.

Work Progress Administration, 1930's

Having just sent her back to her room for the third time (and counting) to study some more for her English test, I’m feeling a bit like an awful ogre, but ultimately feel in the right to demand nothing less than 100% competency.  Her teacher may well throw her some curves, but I want her walking in there prepared and confident for the challenges.

The point is to not cheat at solitaire.

Saying one is doing the work when it actually isn’t getting done only serves to hurt oneself.  Goodness knows I’ve done my share of it, but watching my young one struggle with it is still a painful exercise — for both of us.  Her for needing to do it over and over until she figures out that doing the work in the first case will lessen the burdens later on and me for having to play the role of the brick wall.  Oh well.  She’ll figure it out — I just hope it’s sooner rather than later ’cause I want some ice cream too.