This week is Ryan's summer break. He graduated from preschool on Friday, and starts extended year preschool on Tuesday. In the same classroom he just graduated from. With the same teacher, and some of the same kids.
I had fantasies that we would spend this week doing fun, summer-like things, like swimming and going to the beach and eating ice cream at the park. And we've done some of that. Ryan had a blast for three whole hours at the wave pool on Monday. (Yes, our city that can no longer afford to have after-school sports has a public wave pool!) Ryan rushed into the water every time the waves started up, and slinked away whenever the waves stopped and the pool reverted to being just a plain old pool. He braved some intense sprinklers and went down the mini water slide all by himself, over and over again. We lasted over an hour at a friend's barbeque. And we've gone to the playground and roller skated and played with Grandma and Grandpa.
But we've also come up against a torrent of tantrums that leave both of us miserable. It stems from Ryan's lack of pragmatic language skills and his accompanying frustration at not being able to communicate what he wants. If it's a beautiful day, he'll beg to go inside. If I ask him if he needs to go to the bathroom, he will throw himself on the bathroom floor and refuse to stand up. And if you saw his reaction to my asking him to pick up his markers, you'd think I had been clubbing the boy like a baby seal.
Oh hark, I hear whining.
A little column A, a little column B. I adore column A. But column B can punch me in the gut sometimes.