Victoire!

After a full morning of pictures for Daddy, reading, phonics and other sundry school items, we had a well deserved break and then met up again at the kitchen table to look at some math.

Mermaid Princess takes after her mother - she utterly refused help as she struggled to count out all the fingers for 7 + 2, then threw her pencil down in frustration when informed that the answer was not actually 11.

Finally, she allowed me to dig out a jar of pennies (which I had mentioned earlier, but had been firmly refused) and used them to count out her sets. Before she knew it, she had finished her worksheet, found the path through the maze, saved the day... and promply burst into tears because I wouldn't let her do another worksheet since lunch was ready.

Victorious at last
.

Why, oh why, do we hate asking for help, she and I? Why is rage so much better a feeling than dependence? Why is it so much easier to say "I can't do this" than to say "I think I need some help"?

Cary once said, "Why do we work so hard to teach our children independence? Independence isn't hard... the whole of human existence is a striving for independence. Choosing dependence, gracefully accepting dependence, even embracing dependence... now that's hard."

True for me, anyway.