Gus and the learning curve

Standing in the homework line waiting for Gus to receive his sticker the other day, the mother in front of us asked Gus if she could see his picture. The assignment was a color-by-number. Though Gus is enthusiastic about homework, I've gotta say, he kind of phoned this one in. Rather than coloring in each space, he scribbled a bit of color in the designated spots. Whatever, it's preschool, I thought.

"Oh, nice coloring, Gus!" the mom cooed, peering at his paper. Then to me: "How old is Gus?" "He turned 4 in August," I explained. "Oh, that explains it," she said. Huh, I thought, taking in her son's expertly colored-in picture. "My guy just loves stuff like this," the other mom, whose son turned 5 in September, chirped. "He gets out his box of Crayolas and goes to town."

It was one of those moments when I wish I'd had a clever retort to put her on the spot just a little bit. "Explains what, exactly," I'd ask innocently. This mom seems like a lovely person, despite her comment that smacked of an irritating competitiveness and subtle bragging. (And let's face it - who isn't guilty of that from time to time?)

It's true. Gus's fine motor skills are behind those of his peers. Virtually everyone in his class can write his or her name with some proficiency. My youngest is nowhere near writing his name remotely legibly. His coloring and drawing abilities are similar.

I haven't been particularly concerned about Gus's development in these areas. Again, he's in preschool. Furthermore, Gus is the youngest in his class, and he's a boy. These skills will come eventually for him. Still, I know expectations are only growing more rigorous at ever-younger ages.

For months now, I've been meaning to crack open the book our family doctor recommended after I expressed concern about Gus's energy level. It's called "The Purpose of Boys." Surprise, surprise, I have yet to dive in to the book. I've heard so much about the differences between the ways boys and girls learn, that school is more geared toward girls, who are more mature, especially in the younger years. I really do need to learn more.

When I begin to worry that Gus won't be able to match his peers' skills, I remind myself of all that is special about my boy. He may not be able to perfectly color a picture, but he's got the most winning personality, the biggest smile.

The other day, we ran into a friend from high school. Gus looked right at her kids and said, "Hi, I'm Gus!" This is something my other two boys would never do. At Mark's grandpa's 90th birthday party on Saturday, Mark's aunt, who I barely know, saw Gus and smiled. "That's my buddy," she said, referring to some encounter she must've had with our outgoing guy. At church yesterday, a pair of elderly women in front of us enthusiastically reached for Gus's outstretched hand at the peace greeting. Instead of ducking his head and going shy like many kids, Gus makes eye contact and speaks loudly and clearly.

In short, these are gifts Gus just has. That kind of confidence is not something someone can easily learn, if at all. Coloring pictures and writing his name, he'll get those.