The little-boy-who-couldn't (or wouldn't) has taken a big step forward this week - he brought home his first reading book from school!! From the minute he made it public that he could write his name he has been eagerly (for Liam) absorbing all he can about writing and letters, and word sounds. Not at a lightening pace, but showing actual interest. I guess it has paid off because he has now his own preschool/junior kindergarten reading log and plastic zip bag for books. We are so very proud of him!
Don't get me wrong, we know that Liam is a bright little boy capable of doing anything he sets his mind to. It's his own stubborn nature and desire to hide his true abilities that makes him 'the little boy that couldn't' - he insists he 'can't' whatever!
Case in point:
A few weeks back Liam let it slip that he wipes his own bum at preschool.
This was news to me. And from the look on his face - busted! - it was something he wasn't planning on telling me anytime soon. For months we have been encouraging him do this thankless task on his own. We would ask him 'what do you do at preschool?' and he would always insist that they helped him. Considering that they do accept two and a half year olds and that potty training isn't a requirement, I accepted this at face value. Apparently I should have questioned the teachers. Anyways, the cat was out of the bag and from that moment on I insisted he do his own wiping at home. Unfortunately I did relent and agree to "check his work".
The first few times he was spotless. Not only had he been doing this for a while, he was good at it too! When I think on it, never a skidmark did I find... hmmmnnn. I probably should have 'checked his work' once or twice and declared him fit and able to take it on his own from there, because suddenly it was like he had forgotten how to do it. He always insisted he had wiped first, and yes, there was always toilet paper in the bowl...
Then one day - a bad teething day for Zoe (that darn LAST MOLAR still hasn't broke through) - he announced, as usual, "Mom, I have to poo. Don't forget to come and check my work!" But I was stuck on the sofa with grrowly girl hitched up and wasn't likely to be moving soon. I thought at first that 'checking his work' would be an opportunity to end the nursing session (she's 26 months fergoshsakes!!). But then, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I had been duped - for weeks. He wasn't really wiping - not after the first few impeccable 'spot checks.' No, he was just putting a piece of toilet paper in the toilet and taking advantage of my general distractions and distaste for the job at hand. So when the inevitable "Mom, come check my work" rang out. I sat comfortably on the sofa, smiled down at Zoe and said, "No. I don't think so. I think you can do it just fine. You're on your own from now on."
That first time didn't go over well ("But I'm not five yet, I'm not in kindergarten yet" - the timeline we had originally given him). But I did finally get a confession that he had been 'faking it' and he's pretty much happy to do it all by himself nowadays. He still announces "Mom, I have to poo" but there hasn't been a skidmark yet!
