We had 2 humdingers of a meltdown yesterday.
The first was over maths. That's to be expected now, maths and A just do not mix - like oil and water, no matter how hard you shake or how much you increase the pressure - they stubbornly refuse to get on. We have a book of maths problems, suitable for 9-10 year olds, and all I ask is 10 minutes a day, or when we remember - to have a little try.
Cue the harumphs. The moaning, the screaming, the tears, the stomping, the door slamming and yesterday, throwing her pencil across the room.
I try so hard to be patient, to explain it in a number of different ways, we use pony analogies often and still the penny does not drop. We will keep trying - and I will keep being the punch-bag.
The second tantrum of the day was in the evening. She had been stuck inside from 8.45am until 5pm, practising the school play after a whole day in the classroom. It's too much, they were both like coiled springs, balls of fiery anger and in need of a glass of water, some food and a serious run around the garden. After an hours rest I thought we should crack on with homework. A project about Mars.
She just does not seem to care about the state of her work. It was scribbled, drawn scrappily, spelt wrong, no full stops or capital letters and looked like something a 5 year old would do...I felt like a Victorian school teacher.
I think I have been too relaxed. She knows I pay little attention to education and do not place value on the current system. But she's behind, she cares little about her assignments and couldn't give two hoots if she comes last. She has zero interest in school work and finishes quickly to get outside, play ponies, ride ponies or play with her pony playmobil.
Why am I surprised? I was exactly the same at 10.