The Frustration Dance

I’m watching my daughter try to figure something out.  She has a little car, and it has a trunk (it must be European, since the trunk is in the front).  She loves to open the trunk, put in a toy, and close it.  She waits for me to ask her where it is, and she triumphantly pulls it out.  Cheers and applause ensue.

I changed the configuration of the car so it’s not as easy now to get the trunk open.  I watch her struggle, and then I do it for her.  This repeats many times.  Then, I stop doing.  I let her get frustrated.  I let her start to whine and bounce up and down.  I let her turn to me with a puzzled expression.

Am I helping her?

I see myself in her.  Easily frustrated, whiny when I can’t figure something out instantly.  Then I get over it and dig deep and plow ahead.

My daughter isn’t there yet.  She isn’t developed enough yet to realize what challenges are, and she hasn’t figured out yet how to overcome advanced obstacles.  The foundation is being poured, though, for lessons and acts of perseverance.  

She’s now moved onto something else.  The trunk is no longer holding her interest.  We’ll come back to it, I’m sure, very soon.  Maybe she’ll have a touch more patience.  I can only hope that I can continue to watch the frustration dance, grabbing her when she needs the help but letting her figure out complicated steps on her own.