Tuesday 25 November 2014

Wellies - right and wrong

Digger's put his wellies on the wrong way round again. The left welly on his right foot and right on his left. His small welly feet are pointing outwards. I think it looks funny, cute even. He doesn't seem to be bothered by it. So I don't mention it. We leave the house and carry on with our day. He jumps through a zillion muddy puddles. Every one he finds. Shrieking with joy. It's not raining. It's pouring. The water profs get their work out.  At one point he is sitting in a 20 cm deep puddle, splashing water all around. We arrive a full hour of joy later to our destination, and when I unwrap him I'm astounded that he is still dry underneath.

Digger loves his wellies. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that he can put them on himself. He is so consistent in putting the on the wrong way round that I think he sees it as right. Or perhaps they are easier to put on like that, I wonder? What ever the reason or lack thereof, I don't mind the outcome. I reckon he'll learn without me telling him. Sometime soon enough. 

But I am amazed how many adults do point out this - to us - very obvious mistake. His nursery teacher sat him down and changed them round, in the sandpit, in the rain. I have the outmost respect for her. She is a mild-mannered, hippy teacher of Steiner Waldorf persuasion. She has genuine respect for the kids around her. I particularly love her approach to discipline and I learn  or notice something new every time we meet. Somehow she hardly ever ask any of the children to do anything. And still things get done - hands get washed, toys put away, tables cleaned, even floors swept. But this welly thing ... it just didn't sit right with her. Odd. 

I look at Digger's welly efforts and see something very different. I see he is trying. This is something I don't feel the need to correct. To me it's a tangible and ever timely reminder to have faith in his abilities. I look at them and remind myself that I should apply that accepting approach to his idiosyncracies much more often than I do.

One day he will look down and notice. And that will be the end of that. And I'll miss the funny look.