It was a late night in our house. Jonas went to bed on time but ended up in tears shortly thereafter. He's been anxious about school, and last night his fears got the best of him. "Mom, can I please not go to Grade Four?" he sobbed. "I'm going to fail. I just know it."
After a big hug, he said "Grade Fours have to do a lot writing and I'm just terrible at writing. My writing is terrible and I'm dumb at having ideas.
I listened for a long time, snuggling beside him in his bed, reassuring him that he is neither dumb or terrible. I reminded him that he needs more practice, and that some things in school are going to be easy for him, and some will be hard. I said that I believe that he can conquer those tough ones. Dad and I, and his teachers at school are all going to help him. Nobody expects him to be perfect and get straight As. All we expect from him is to do his best. He's still not convinced but he's going to try.
Sometimes, he's his toughest critic!