Children don’t want to appear stupid, especially to their parents. They may be embarrassed that at age six, they don’t already know everything there is to know. They need your help and secretly want it, but at the same time they feel vulnerable to what they perceive as a negative judgment from you. It doesn’t matter how cheerful you try to sound. The slightest indication that their answer wasn’t perfect and they will equate this as a failing on their part, which in turn will surely cause a breach in the love you have for them. It can be quite a dilemma and frustrating for everyone.

When we try to teach our children directly, we sound like we are lecturing. Not surprisingly, kids don’t like to be lectured. To them, it is synonymous with punishment. No wonder they don’t want that sort of teaching.

When your children were very young, you probably taught them without even realizing it. It came naturally. You hid your lessons in fun. You counted the steps out loud as you climbed the stairs. You awkwardly threw in adjectives, saying things like, “I see you found the red ball.” Why add the red? To teach him his colors without making the lesson seem so much like a lesson. You automatically turned learning into a game. You might still be able to use that technique with your child. Think of it as adding a spoonful of sugar to the medicine.

For instance, my six-year-old has a spelling test every week. Instead of drilling her on the words, which is painful for both of us, I turn it around. She gives me a mock spelling test. Then, speaking aloud to myself, I ponder whether or not to add a silent “e” on the end of the word. I explain the rule to myself and suddenly realize what I need to do. Sometimes I make mistakes. I might use an “f” when I should have used a “ph.” She always gets a kick out of correcting me. But in the process, I am able to teach her some of the rules of “fawnix” by making a game of it.

When she was struggling to learn how to count by 10’s, I suddenly recalled the song “Snoopy vs the Red Baron” and started singing, “10, 20, 30, 40, 50 or more, the Bloody Red Baron was rollin’ out the score.” She soon pleaded with me to stop. That blasted song is still stuck in my head, but at least she remembers the first five numbers in the series.

My daughter also had difficulty distinguishing between “w’s” and “m’s.” Finally one day I realized that a “w” is shaped like a wave, which starts with the letter “w”, and an “m” looks like a mountain which starts with “m.” I still haven’t found a similar way to help her with “b’s” and “d’s,” so if anyone has any suggestions, please add them to the comments.

Kids won’t be fooled or amused forever by surreptitious teaching. At some point it comes across as patronization. Until then, though, you might want to give it a try. It can be fun for both of you.