Perfect

I asked the doctor at Cannon's well child about this funny little thing my sweet boy does. You see, he feels the intense desire to be perfect, all the time, in everything he tries. And if perhaps he has a hard time with something, well, he gets a tad upset.

Like the first week of school, when the class was practicing writing their alphabet.

Only he's never tried to write the alphabet before.

And so it was hard.

And he was upset.

And his teacher tried to calm him down.

But he was inconsolable.

And angry.

And frustrated.

And when I picked him up from school that day he burst into tears.

And he said someone was mean to him.

And so I got angry.

And I asked the teacher.

And she said no one was mean to him.

But she said you were sad about the alphabet.

And when we got home you pulled the paper out of your bag.

And showed me it.

And said "THIS is why I'm sad!"

So I helped you finish the paper.

And you felt better.

And you went off to play.

But I worried about you.

Because you think you need to be perfect.

And you don't realize you already are.

Here you are doing your homework.

You are very intense when you color.

It bothers you that you color outside the lines. Because you want your work to be perfect. I blame your father. Stupid Suma Cum Laude graduate.

See this little boy? It is impossible not to love every little thing about him. Impossible. Maybe it's because he was the baby for 4 years, maybe it's because he's sweet and cuddly, maybe it's because of the way he looks at you with those big browns, I'm not sure. I do know he brings so much joy to our lives. And because I forgot to give him his own little 5th birthday post, I am so sorry.