Of colouring in …..

This week I was further reminded what a stickler for detail Connor is, and how upset he gets when he can’t do something along the way that he feels it must be done.

He is the kind of child who not only wants to colour between the lines, but needs to colour between the lines.

I have watched how stressed he gets when he is quietly drawing and Georgia is sitting next to him.  She takes her crayon and just goes “bos” – colouring with total abandon, and like she is possessed.  She just freaking colours like her life depends on it.

The harder and wilder her crayon strokes are, the happier she is.  The more wild and exaggerated her strokes are, the more concerned Connor gets that she might leave her page and end up on his neat page – every now and then she does and he totally freaks out.

Next to her Connor sits and painstakingly draws each stroke with care and diligence – often with his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth in concentration.  Totally absorbed in his task, with everything perfectly just so.

This morning we were running a bit late.

I can blame the lack of cold water, so I needed to boil pots and kettles so I can have just enough water to splash around in rather than stand a cold shower.  I had about 2cm depth of water in the bath, once I got in to it.  But it beat the crap out of a cold shower, or going to work stinky.

I can blame the fact that I forgot it was Speech Therapy day.  I had to find Georgia’s book, then find Pritt and sit and stick all her homework stuff in her book –her homework stuff that I did not do <sigh>.  The Speech Therapy teacher probably has me on the “shit parent” list already – and no doubt tut-tuts that this is exactly why my five year old speaks like a three year old.

I could also blame the fact that Georgia was arguing with me about wanting to bring something to school and a little power struggle broke out in the passage.

I could also blame the fact that I had to turn back and go home, as Georgia had forgotten to put her Speech Therapy book into her bag, though I had reminded her four times, and had actually seen it in her hand on the way to the car.

While driving I casually said: “Georgia have you got your Speech Therapy book?”

To which she answered: “Mommy I think we need to go home….”

I could blame all of those things, but the honest reason is I did not get out of bed until 07h05 – so that compounded with all of the above, made me leave home at 07h55 – for the second time this morning.

That being said, traffic lights and traffic flow were on my side and I drove/flew into Connor’s school at 08h05.  There were still tons of kids being thrown out of harassed parents cars at that point, so I took comfort from that.

I say to Connor: “Listen follow that boy, he is going around the back end of the school and you can just walk to class and go and sit down and no one will know. You are barely late.  Look at all of these kids.”

Connor: “I need to go and sign in and go through the front entrance as I am late.”

Me: “Just walk around the side here by aftercare, and go to your class, I bet the kids are not even inside the class yet, the bell probably just rang.”

Connor: “I need to go and sign in….”

Me: “You really do not need to, you are not really late, but if you feel you want to …. well….”

Connor: “I am going to go through the front entrance and sign in …. Bye mom, bye Georgia!”

So off my son goes, avoids the shortcut that I showed him, so he can walk past the receptionist’s office and sign in, as the rules are the rules.

I think he is going to have a hard life with the need to always have to keep his crayon in the lines.

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