As if on cue, the meltdown started! The tears, the clinging, the anger – all of it. I had done it again. I made her cry. Again. And I should know better, considering the same thing has happened every time she has had to write. “I don’t want to write, mumma,” she shouted, defiantly!
This time was in the middle of her online class. Ugh! Don’t get me started about those. I would have pulled her out of it on day 0, but she was really enjoying herself. She loved seeing her teacher and her little classmates or “her kids”, as she kept calling them. She loved learning, and language skills was her favourite class. She loved learning new letters, their phonic sounds and the vocabulary. And though I didn’t get what the deal was with the actions they taught for each letter, they seemed to help the kids remember the phonics. She had built an association in her mind between the ‘ssss’ sound and the action of coming down the slide, and every other sound and action.
Which is why, I couldn’t understand why it was so hard to write the letters. She has been able to identify lower case letters since she was 16 months old! When I give her play-dough, she has no problems forming the shapes of the letters, but she just wasn’t able to write.
This instance was with the letter ‘C’. Well, it wasn’t the letter ‘C’, per se. They’re still doing pre-writing skills, so it’s been standing line, sleeping line, mountain pattern – you get the drift. Now, they’re doing ‘C’ and inverted ‘C’ patterns. When I draw dotted lines, she’s able to trace them and differentiate which one is which. When the teacher asks her to make each shape with her hand, she has no problems with it.
But why is it that when she needs to write it independently, she always draws an inverted ‘C’, instead of ‘C’? This had happened with ‘B’ as well. She would draw the standing line, but the curves were always on the wrong side of the line.
I wondered if she was just being playful or stubborn. I Googled learning disabilities as well, but the symptoms didn’t necessarily line up. I made a mental note to look it up in more detail later.
Both times, of course, I lost it. I yelled at her, and that’s what actually triggered the meltdown. I know she’s only 3.5 and that she doesn’t need to be able to write. But I worry. I worry that she will fall behind next year, that she’d feel humiliated in front of her classmates, that it will dent her self-esteem, not that that’s ever been an issue with her. Toddlers have such great self-esteem, have you noticed? I worry that the teacher will think I’m a bad parent.
Whoa! Wait a minute! Rewind and pause! Is that really the problem – what the teacher will think of me? It’s not really about her, but about me? Well, that’s incredibly selfish!
And the words flash in my mind,
“You keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on you”
Isaiah 26: 3
It’s the same verse that He’s been using to speak to me for quite a while now, so it should come as no surprise to me that He’s using it now as well. Comforting warmth unfolds over me as the familiar words play on loop in my mind, accompanied by a slight stab of guilt.
Among other previous instances, the verse has served as a balm for my fears and worries, in the face of my mom’s cancer diagnosis. It was a reminder then, that He was the one in control of everything and that we were to only keep our eyes fixed on Him, the Author of peace that passes understanding. And that it truly was – an inexplicable, almost-baffling kind of peace that you must experience to really grasp. My mom’s doing fine now, by the way, if you’re wondering – done with surgery and chemo, and cancer-free!
This time, the verse showed up in the context of my insecurities. I’ve fallen into those familiar patterns again and I’ve taken my eye off the Prize. And both the little one and I are paying the price for it. All that unnecessary heartache because I had given into my selfishness.
When will I learn that this is not about me? Nothing in this life or any life is ever about me. It is always only about Him. I know that. And it’s not something that’s ever been forced on me. It’s something He has taught me over so many years now, through His patient, persistent, ever-so-gentle yet firm direction. So often, I lose sight of it but through this incident, He reminds of it, gently and firmly, as always. My behaviour elicits in me, a sigh, a shake of the head and a whispered prayer, “Lord, help me. I can’t do this on my own.” That peace washes over me again, almost instantaneously.
Shortly after the meltdown though, she was able to write the ‘C’ with no issues, whatsoever. She writes ‘B’ properly too. She draws her standing line, followed by the first curve on the right side of the line and then the second curve. And then she pretends to pick up that little bit of the standing line, sticking out below the curves, and throws it away, as if that’s going to make it disappear! She throws that mischievous, yet heart-melting grin at me and struts off. These kids, I tell you, they can be so cute, and drive you completely insane too.
But this time, I’m pretty sure that it’s the work of the Big Man up there. Well, it’s probably Him every other time too. Just reminding me that He’s the One in control of it all, and it’s always just about Him. He’ll need to remind me of it a few more times, for sure. But this time, it sure did get glued in better.
This was written as an assignment for the Bob’s Banter Writers and Speakers Course that I completed recently. Can you tell that my writing skills have improved?
I intend to do a few more posts in this series, “Learning with (from) Liya”. Hope you enjoy them!