How was it after seven in the evening and I had only started dinner? After a long day at the office, I ached to collapse on the couch, close my eyes, and enjoy a few moments of peace. Instead, I sautéed mushrooms and listened to my daughter's latest ploy to put off doing homework.
It was the same worn script with the same parroted lines. I was tired and didn't want to participate in yet another performance. This scene needed a swift conclusion.
"You need to do your homework now because there won't be enough time after dinner."
"Mommy, I'll do it. I promise." How many times had I heard that?
I was well acquainted with the open-ended abyss of arguing with a ten-year-old. Rather than continue down what I knew to be an endless spiral, I pulled an ultimatum out of my bag of consequences. "If your homework isn't finished by nine o’clock, you'll have to go to school with it incomplete."
"Mommy, I'll get it all done, okay? Why don't you just leave me alone?"
Back talk. Definitely didn't like it.
The disrespect in her tone made me wince more than the diced onions on my cutting board.
Careful to maintain patience, or maybe too tired to get angry, I said, "When I was a little girl, I was not allowed to talk to my mother the way you just talked to me. I would've been afraid to speak to my mother in that tone of voice."
Pouting at the dining room table, books and pencils lying untouched, my daughter stared into space—deep in thought. I continued to stir the vegetables and tried to appear unmoved. After all, I was the adult in this scenario.
But inside I was seething. What bothered me most is I knew I would never allow her to go to school with her homework unfinished. But how could she learn without a price to pay? I wrestled between tough love and a soft touch.
Twenty minutes later, my daughter emerged from the private room of her thoughts and re-entered our conversation.
"Mommy, do you really want me to be afraid of you like you were afraid of Grandmom?"
Caught by surprise, I responded, "No, I don't want you to be afraid of me. I want you to obey me because you love me."
Her face softened. Then she opened her book, picked up her pencil, and simply said, "Okay."
Over the years, I’ve learned some pretty valuable lessons when it comes to helping my children get their homework done. Below you will find my handy, homework tips: