On Writing, Wrong
I don’t want my kid to be that kid who is afraid to be wrong. I want her to be free and willing to make mistakes and always learning, always loving whatever life brings.
That’s not my kid.
Maybe because I’m the one with a whole lot to learn. That’s okay. I love learning. Can’t stop, won’t stop.
My kid wants it right. The first time.
And if it’s wrong? She tends to stop.
Thankfully, she has an amazing (public school! City of Boston!) teacher this year that so gets her and wants to find a way to get in to that incredible mind of hers. Thankfully, she took the time to talk to me about it this weekend so we could find a way in. And it’s working.
“It’s wrong! I can’t do it!”
“No, just write the sounds. Not the words.”
This. On repeat all weekend. We’re making progress. Or maybe I just think we are because she drew me a “cofe sdor” (coffee store) where the coffee is always free all the time. I like progress that tastes like coffee.
So, “would you rather play inside or outside?” It depends on the weather.