A Little Boy That Cried

Here is a poem that our son read in his tutorial class today:

Once a little boy, Jack, was, oh! ever so good, 
Till he took a strange notion to cry all he could. 

So he cried all the day, and he cried all the night, 
He cried in the morning and in the twilight; 

He cried till his voice was as hoarse as a crow, 
And his mouth grew so large it looked like a great O. 

It grew at the bottom, and grew at the top; 
It grew till they thought that it never would stop. 

Each day his great mouth grew taller and taller, 
And his dear little self grew smaller and smaller. 

At last, that same mouth grew so big that—alack!— 
It was only a mouth with a border of Jack.

My 7-year old son is no Jack Crier, although he cried yesterday when he felt defeated by his lack of self confidence. We have a competitive son. He will not tell you the answer to your question right away unless he feels that he is confident. He will rather be quiet and let others answer.

Here is the thing. He actually knows the answer. 

How I wish that we will be able to let him know that there is joy in not knowing everything. That we are not expected to be all-knowing. A good leader knows who to call or to approach to answer questions that don't fall under their scope. 

So I'm taking it upon myself to make sure that we read short short stories that he can be able to narrate all over by himself. And that's when he cried yesterday because he said telling the story of The Hare and The Tortoise was difficult. But when it was only us two, he was able to tell the story.

I think he finds it a big challenge to please his mom. I cannot imagine the pressure he puts on himself just to make a perfect story.

I would rather raise a practical and smart son rather than one who is a perfectionist who tends to stand still in the face of difficulty.