One spot that really tests my commitment to the "let them" theory is my daughter's school.
My husband is generally magnanimous, and he loves my daughter's teacher. But I am not magnanimous, and I don't share the love. Specifically, I do not feel love when the teacher discloses a favored refrain she uses with Susie: "If you continue to chew on the sleeve of your shirt, you may unleash toxins within the fabric, and the 'unleashing' could damage your brain." (Oddly enough, this deranged observation does nothing to change my daughter's behavior.)
Also, I do not love the teacher when she worries aloud that my child isn't mastering the phonics rules quickly enough. "That's because she thinks they're boring," I explain. "I had the same issue--and things worked out fine." The teacher won't accept this. "Figure out how to get those letter sounds in her head," she says. "Or she will be diagnosed with a learning disability."
At this point, I've had enough. One must choose one's battles. The easiest route forward--with the teacher--is to pretend to agree. But it's tiring.
It does help me to know that Sharon Horgan has written an entire series--"Motherland"--about this kind of experience. I know the teacher is doing her best. I'm overflowing with empathy, good wishes, yadda yadda yadda.
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