Former San Francisco Chronicle reporter Ilene Lelchuk is joining Milkshakes and Margaritas as a contributor and starts off with a touching tale and a great idea for a project.
My 6-year-old son is a can't do kind of a kid. Don't get me wrong. He is incredibly bright, creative and outgoing. But he's also anxious and a perfectionist. The truest Gemini I've ever known.
Those will be terrific attributes when he's a banker, lawyer or some other high-powered perfectionist. But for now, he's just a skinny soon-to-be first grader with tousled hair who resists trying new things - reading, writing, hitting a baseball -- unless he is sure he can do them well. Hmmm, tricky. How do you perfect a skill if you never try?
In kindergarten last year, I heard, "I can't do it!" every time he was asked to put pencil to paper or read a sentence. It didn't help that classrooms really are a girls' realm. Those fidgeting boys aren't developmentally ready for the rigors of school as soon as girls. And the first years are so much more demanding than I remember. I fed carrots to a fluffy class bunny. My son practiced subtraction.
Of course, my can't-do kid learned to draw people and animals, spell phonetically and read simple words by June, just like I knew he could. But now he's worried that he can't do first grade. Ugh.
So I'm on a mission to turn him into a can-do kid. This summer I created a kindergarten memory book that is more than just snapshots. It documents the transformation of his scribbles to shaky printing to sentences to stories. He said he couldn't, but I gave him proof that he can and he did.
I bought an inexpensive 10X10 scrapbook at Michael's. Then I sorted through our bulging bag of schoolwork and culled the best examples. For those huge butcher paper pieces, I photographed them with my digital camera and sized and printed them on photo paper. I'm not a fancy scrap-booker, so I skipped the cutesy embellishments.
I presented the big red book to my son last week and it was one of the few times I saw deep gratitude on his face. He quietly studied each page. Now he loves to bring it out for visitors. His favorite page is the last one titled progress. He says, "Look, when I was little, all I could do was scribble scrabble and now I can draw and alligator and write sentences."