You can get your frustrations out:
Or be very quiet and purposeful as you draw.
These pictures were taken several months ago. During that time, when I would ask him what he was drawing, he would say "Cars. I'm drawin' cars."
So this past week we've started a game that he now asks for every evening: "Mom, can we draw cars?" And here's what "drawing cars" means...
First, I hold his crayon-filled fist and together we draw two wheels, the bottom, and a front and back bumper. He narrates each part as our car begins to take shape. If he had his wish, we would repeat this 5,000 times per night, using every color in the box.
One night I asked him to try the top of the car himself. "Just connect one bumper to the other one. Up and over. See? Like this.":
His response was the sweetest, most humble and mildly embarassed, "Mom, I can't do it."But by the next night, he found the courage to try, as long as the tip of my pointer finger touched the end of the crayon for moral support:
(The second one down, he declared, is a "race car!" Indeed.)By tonight, he is a pro.
Together we draw the wheels, the bottom, and the bumpers.
Then he draws the top and says (even on the 20th victory) "[gasp!] I did it! Look!"
And then, with nested hands, we add the windows.
2 comments:
Talent! He inherited it from his grandmother. (ha!)
I don't know how I missed the post where you said that you had moved your blog to this domain, but that's what happens when you rely too much on a feed reader I guess. Anyway, so here I am catching up a bit. This post is so tender, I love it! I've been going through similar stuff with my 4 y.o. and practicing writing his letters, and he says (in his own words) that his letters are "too squirgily". I love how eloquently you described the process you've gone through with Carter.
P.S. Is that an Ikea expedit bookcase I spy in the background? We have one, too. I love the square shaped shelves!
Post a Comment