Thursday, May 10, 2007
Do It, Or The Little Tow Truck Is Going To Be Wearing Cemment Shoes
He's sitting on the kid sized wooden chair, raising the dowel over his head, breathing out as instructed. Lowering it, he rests the long stick on his lap.
"I hate vision therapy!" he says.
Kneeling on the floor next to him, without moving my head, I dart my eyes to the left, toward Mater, on the floor. Seth knows, if he gives me any more trouble, his toy Mater "gets it."
No time for Mother of the Year. We need to get this done. We've just a few minutes before school. His love of Cars, The Movie is his weakness and I'm hitting him where it hurts.
He glares at me and picks up the dowel.
"Fwhooo...." he breathes out as he raises it above his head one more time.
Superhero Seth has bought Mater another 24.
There has to be a better way.
Today, I give him an incentive. If he finishes vision therapy without fussing, he can watch Curious George before school. Usually, it's no TV in the morning.
Half-way through, he says,
"Mom. Maybe you should get my Curious George toy from the playroom downstairs."
"So if I screw around, you can throw it away."