She’ll never learn if you keep doing it for her

The drycleaner who has been pressing my shirts and suits for years knows me too well. When she sees me coming in, she’s already writing my name, address and phone number onto a new receipt and I only need to tell her what I’m bringing in that day. I don’t even take the receipt because too often, I have misplaced it, forgotten it in the car, or it just got washed with regular laundry. It’s more trouble for her when I lose the receipt as it messes with her record keeping. So a long time ago, she stopped giving it to me. It’s worked for both of us.

When my daughter was younger, I would remind her to do routine things like feed her pet fish, set the table for dinner, clean up her sock drawer and other mundane domestic tasks. It was a way for me to involve her in our daily activities and for her to learn routines. We graduated to a task list and eventually a schedule. Life got more complicated and I’d remind her about homework, practicing cello and other house cleaning chores. I’d encourage as much as I pushed and I must admit that there were times I pushed too hard. Heck, I’d even reminder her to call her mother, too. Soon enough she only did anything when I reminded her since I have become her human alarm clock, taskmaster and general secretary. I began to see the parallels between what my drycleaner did for me and what I do for my daughter. And then two things happened that made me stop.

On a regular return trip to the drycleaner, the owner fell ill and didn’t work that day. An entirely new person whom I have no history asked for my receipt which I couldn’t produce. With other customers lining up behind me, my long awkward explanation failed to produce my pressed shirts. I went home empty handed.

 

Single-parenting in the twenty-first century is already a full time job. I shouldn’t have to burden myself with her responsibilities as well. Ultimately, I don’t want to take ownership of the basic things my daughter can and should do for herself. And I shouldn’t feel guilty over the consequences of her inaction.

 

The other thing that had happened was me feeling that my gentle reminders had somehow turned into nagging. I guess I was on autopilot prompting my daughter to do what she might have planned on doing anyway. Her life got busier and while she may have it in her head to do it, my reminders grated on her like a continuous metronome. Even my support to call her mom regularly came off as coercion when she might not have wanted to talk to her mother at that particular time.

Kids will be forgetful and it’s rarely the end of the world. In fact, it’s good idea for them to realize the importance of their own responsibilities and the consequences of not keeping them. My daughter has occasionally forgotten something for a class project and pleaded with me to help her (usually) in the evening. I shrug my shoulders and said that it’s too late for that kind of effort now and she’ll have to tell the teacher she forgot. My daughter also forgets to practice her cello only to rush through repetitions the night before the lesson. Her instructor always calls it out and knows that a piece of music hasn’t been properly played. My daughter even forgets sports gear and supplies from home or leaves behind swim suits and water bottles in the locker room after the practice. In all these cases, the consequence of being rebuked by her teacher and instructor is more memorable than any nagging words I can muster. And the loss of equipment and personal effects will simply mean that she’ll go without until it is found or repurchased (which I am in no rush to do). Single-parenting in the twenty-first century is already a full time job. I shouldn’t have to burden myself with her responsibilities as well. Ultimately, I don’t want to take ownership of the basic things my daughter can and should do for herself. And I shouldn’t feel guilty over the consequences of her inaction.

The next time I went to my drycleaner, I asked to hang on to the receipt and simply said, “If you continue to do it for me, then I will never learn. I’ll bring the receipt back to claim my laundry like every other customer.” She cuts me a stare and hesitantly handed the slip to me, but with a smile. I’ve been a good customer since. And if an old dog like me can learn a new trick…