Drew

Sometimes I get too busy, too project-focused, to remember that preschool is one of my favorite age groups with which to interact.  Drew is not the same type of preschooler as his older siblings were, so maybe that is partly cause for my forgetfulness.  He is highly opinionated and will "draw a line in the sand" at the most unpredictable and inopportune times.  For instance, he'll go along nicely for days on end putting on his own shoes, and then one day, he flat-out refuses to do it.  This re-visiting of an old battlefield always takes me by surprise, so we are invariably late to wherever we were heading when the conflict flared. 

One day last week, he pitched an A-1, five-star fit because a marker he was using ran out and he insisted that I could fill it up again and just didn't want to bother.  He did not believe me that the marker was only good for the trash.  Finally, I told him to go try to fill it up himself at the bathroom sink.  A few minutes later he emerged, cheerily announced that I was right, and chose a different color.

Today, though, I see a glimmer of hope for the future.  Mind you, it is only 1:45 PM, so I'm trying not to be too optimistic.  This morning, a friend stopped by with her young son...and Drew was uncharacteristically social, immediately inviting him to play Legos.  Joshua had a well-baby doctor visit...and Drew was not only cooperative, but downright helpful by keeping Joshua entertained while we waited.  Then it was off to the grocery store...where Drew handled the disappointment of no "car carts" available with just a quick shrug and an "oh well, maybe next time."  Back home, he washed the dishes in the messy, soapy way that only a preschooler can.

And through it all, he provided a running commentary interspersed with random questions like "If I smear aloe plant juice on my cut and it gets better, it is the plant that healed it, or was it Jesus helping it?" His latest line is "Know what I'm tinkin' about?"  I always say no, since I have yet to figure out the way his mind works.  Turns out he ponders things like giants wearing lipstick, the fun possibilities of houses made from food, whether he could talk to Deandra (a little Haitian girl) if he learns Spanish, and the unfairness of Kate and Luke being older than him forever.

It's true that I can't think my own thoughts for five consecutive minutes, that I have to carefully phrase commands to minimize the likelihood of a fit, and that I NEVER get everything done in a day that I need to accomplish.  It's true that most nights, I can hardly wait to tuck him in bed so I can catch my breath, that I pray daily for a teachable spirit for him and patience for me while he acquires it, and that I sometimes wonder how it is that so much contrariness can be in one child.

But boy, do I love that kid in all of his four-year-old-ness!