Whose social life is it anyway?

I'm beginning to realise that JP (6) is turning into a paradox all by himself. He is - not unlike his dad - a sociable loner.

Since he started school last year, we've noticed a few things..

A. He has lots of friends. This is borne out by the jostling that happens when they all emerge from school at the end of the day and he's happily in the middle of it all.
B. When we're out at family outings, lots of children want to play with him, dragging him off to chase them or be thrown into prison. It never seems to matter which.
C. He gets invited to so many birthday parties that I have trouble keeping track.

In other words, he's relatively popular and seems nonchalantly comfortable with it all.

However, paradoxically, he loves his own company and is entirely happy to be alone, in peace and playing quietly with his stuff at home. He has zero interest in taking up any sport / activities that would drag him away from home and would quite happily stay put 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, if it wasn't for the inconvenient business of going to school. As a result, weekends in our house often end up like this..

Me: What would you like to do today?
JP : Em.. play with my Lego.
Me: Would you like to go to football?
JP : No
Me : What about a swimming lesson?
JP : No
Me : Will we go to the park and explore?
JP : No. I just want to stay at home and relax.
Me : Ah go on. You'll like it. Let's go.
JP collapses into tears and starts kicking things.

The strange thing is that, instead of being thrilled, I really struggle with the fact that he's so happy at home. I keep hearing about all of the activities that other children do and feel that maybe he's missing out, that maybe in a couple of years he'll be behind his friends in terms of sporting or social skills. I always promised myself that I wouldn't succumb to the pressure exerted by the perceived norm in relation to what children should be doing and when. That I would allow JP and Lou Loo the chance to relax and just be children. But it's still nagging away at me in the background and I guess I'm beginning to realise that it's my own hangups about fitting in that are having a bearing on how I'm feeling, rather than any real reason for concern about JP.

Mr G keeps repeating 'he's only six', 'he's only six', to reassure me. My sister, who has 4 busy almost-teenage children, tells me to enjoy the time with JP at home, as soon he'll be out and about all of the time and I'll be sick to the back teeth of chauffeuring him around.

I know they're right, but I still can't help worrying.. then again, I guess that's my job for life. Whether I like it or not.

New mantra for the day - 'let my children be themselves', 'let my children be themselves', 'let five builders free themselves'.. yawn. Time for bed I think..