Weeks and weeks and weeks of preschool and the most he has ever come home with is a half hearted scribble while other children emerge with drawings and paintings and colourful creations. He’s not too keen on sitting still and picking up a crayon or a paintbrush or a glue stick, this boy of mine. The supplies are always there and always offered to him and sometimes demonstrated, but he’s much more likely to want to run and climb and get down on the floor with toy vehicles.
Months of gentle coaxing and guidance and hints dropped into conversations and buying of things which may help his creative flair come out have finally paid off. With the help of a learn to write book, a Tomy Aquadraw and some bath crayons, he has finally started to love picking up a pen. He came out of preschool last week clutching a picture of “Mummy”, only the second ever, and his teachers were amazed at this ability he had never shown before. From then on there was no stopping him and in the next few days, he wrote his first letters. And then, the word SIX, copied from the side of the Aquadraw. His first written word. Six. Oh how I wish I had photographed it.
Last night, while in the bath he requested to use the bath crayons which he has had for years and I showed him how to draw a house. He then drew a letter J and I told him which letters were in his name and then, with some guidance, he oh-so-slowly created them. And there it was. His name. Almost. E is what we will work on next, and then he will be away, writing his name on everything he finds, on his pictures in school, on books from his shelf, on scraps of paper and on the walls. How am I ever going to be angry at his name scribbled wonkily on the wall when I am so proud of what he has achieved?
Just in time for my birthday too. I received a card with a huge array of X’s. Smile.