We came home from school today and David immediately walks in the door, takes off his coat, takes off his shoes, takes off his socks, takes off his pants, takes off his underwear. And, then puts on shorts.
Today he wanted to put a T-shirt on as well.
He was able to take his long sleeved shirt off and picked out a T-shirt from his drawer.
But, just couldn't seem to manage to get his shirt on the right way. The picture always ended up on his back.
He tried with a couple different shirts.
He would get so frustrated ...
the tears would start
He would ask for help. So, I tried helping him - showing him how by putting a t-shirt on as well, explaining what he had to do. But, he really didn't want my help.
He would get so frustrated ....
In the end he ended up with a T-shirt on, picture on the front. He came out of his room with it on and into the kitchen where I was sitting, my face lit up, words of praise ready. He read my expression and whimpered a "no mom." A hug was okay though.
I wanted so much to be able to help him this afternoon. Part of me just wanted to do it for him. He was so frustrated and so upset. I could have put the shirt on him. And, he kept asking me for help. But, he really didn't want it. He would go in his room and close the door to keep me out. And, come out with the tears welled up in his eyes when it was on backwards. Again.
The attempts and failures. (i just want to help).
I remember thinking of how big he was getting.
I remember thinking how hard it was to watch and not do.
But, he did it. All by himself.