I consider myself to be a good teacher. If you were to ask my colleagues and administrators, I’m pretty sure they would agree. But no matter how good of a teacher you are, I’ve learned, when it comes to teaching your own kids there is nothing but frustration to be had.
“I thought you’re supposed to be some great teacher.”
I still remember those words my hubby muttered at some point during remote learning when I was trying to help one of my own kids with their school work to no avail. The icy glare I shot him rivaled Elsa’s most powerful frozen blasts.
The problem with teaching my own kids is that they don’t listen to me. I know this, and yet here I am sitting by the pool, amazed that my seven-year-old twins are actually swimming! How many times have I told them,
“Swim with your head under water!”
“You don’t need to hold your nose when you go under.”
“You can do it!”
only to have them completely ignore each statement. But when their tanned, teenage swim teacher in aviator glasses tells them the exact same things, they just do it!
I am a good teacher. As long as I’m teaching other people’s kids.