It starts with a piece of paper and a black pencil. No it starts with dishes. I’m doing dishes and it’s early, the ‘pink’ has barely gone away but we’ve already had breakfast.
“I’m making a plan for a sculpture,” I hear from the dinning room. “It’s going to be made out of blocks.”
“Mama it’s done,” he brings me the drawing. “Will you help now?”
“Why don’t you start I’m almost done here,” do you ever feel like every yes is qualified?
“You know I think we’ll use both the big and little blocks,” he makes himself comfortable in the pantry/hallway intertwined with the cat. “You know some of these shapes are only in the little blocks.”
With the dishes done we go up to his room and I listen to his plan. The blocks are brought out and he chooses a corner to start in. We match size and shapes as close as we can. It’s fun to have him direct me as he puzzles over the best ways to recreate what he has drawn flat in black and white. I make few suggestions, mainly I am his worker doing what he asks. Twenty minutes later we are done.
This method of planning before building is his own. It is part of the joy for him . His mind works best with a plan. Every morning when we get up while we’re still in bed we talk about our day, it is important for him to understand what’s to come. These morning moments are conversations, there are the things I need to do, the things he needs to do, and then there are the other things that just might happen. These plans aren’t set in stone there is always room for spontaneity and changing our minds. But he works this way, having things laid out before starting.
All of this is unique to him this mix of structure and freedom. I am learning how to respect it and nurture him.