“Mommy, one is my favorite number. You know why? Because there is only one of ME!”
My son got his first real week of assignments back.
He got check minuses for not coloring perfectly within the lines. And check minuses for not writing his letters perfectly. And a check minus for insisting on writing his name backwards all the time.
This is his first year in a formal school setting. He has not really practiced writing his letters extensively to this point. They are legible. But after three attempts he is not going to have perfect form drawing a B.
I love my kid. I think he is terribly smart.
So I am struggling with check minuses for my perfect boy. The baby that I did not even know that I wanted.
Part of me wants to make him spend the long Labor Day weekend practicing letters and coloring in the lines until he gets it right. I have to remind myself that he is FOUR and it is not necessary to have perfection at this point in his life.
Still. I want everyone else to see and appreciate the perfection I see in him.
It makes me sad that he will be judged from now on based on someone else’s ideals. This is why I grieve for him. Not because of school itself but rather because it is an allegory for the unfairness of life that will be foisted upon him and because I, like all mothers, will be defenseless to protect him in the end.