Middle School Moment

Middle school.  First day of sixth grade, but first you need some background.

AT attended a private preschool and kindergarten.  It was a magical place and was just around the corner from our house.  We often walked to or from school.  The children had to go outside every day for at least a little while to play no matter what the weather. We were encouraged to send them in old clothes so they could get dirty.  Children were allow to climb high in trees, as long as they could get themselves down.  The kindergarten teacher told me she was relieved when the big kindergarteners were leaving at the end of their school year because they almost reached her fear limit.  There were bicycles to ride, zip lines and rope swings to use.  The kids rode on a trailer in parades.   They had hay rides in our neighborhood.  They ran from the mythical "killer beaver" that lived in our creek.  If the city schools were out for snow, the school was open for sledding on the property.  On a snow day, I asked the teacher if she worried about the blades on sleds hurting someone, and she replied, "Oh, they have on thick clothes."  We loved this school.

Then first grade.  It was also within walking distance from our house.  It was a small public elementary school, with a great reputation, with only two classrooms per grade.  I was working where I work now - at a rural school 17 miles from our house.  I could have chosen for AT to attend school with me or stay in town.  Our town has good schools and I was determined that she would stay in town.  I wanted to have every chance to meet as many parents as possible so I would be ready for high school.

So I started AT in school in town with great hopes.  It was first grade.  She did not learn to read in kindergarten, but she had some good skills.  She could not have had more exposure to books.  At home, we usually read books twice a day.  She loved being read to.  She could rhyme words at age 3.  She knew her letters and sounds.  She was ready to go. 

But we hit the perfect storm.  Her first teacher quit after one month of school.  Her second teacher was an entry-year teacher.  The class was heavily weighted with special needs students.  If you have read my blog very many times, you know that I am a strong proponent of inclusion with special needs students, but this class was too heavily weighted with special needs students, behavior problems, and gifted readers.  My child was in the middle of the class and getting no attention at all.  I wanted to be relaxed about her learning to read.  She would do it on her own time.  But I was increasingly concerned at the school year progressed.  When I talked to the teacher, she did not seem to be concerned or have any suggestions.  How could my child, immersed  in reading as she had been, not be progressing more?  Should I be freaking out or relaxed?   Was she not learning to read because of poor instruction or because she had a true learning disability?  It was surely not because of lack of exposure at home.  By the end of the year, I wasn't the only one stressed.  AT was having physical symptoms, health problems, often crying when I dropped her off at school.  Something was stressing her and something had to change.

So, after fretting for months, I took her out of school and put her in my school for the last month of school.  By that point, I did not care what she learned.  I just wanted her to enjoy school.  Within two days, her new teacher sent home words that she needed to learn to read.  I realized I was just given the first piece of prescriptive information to work on at home.  This had not happened in her old classroom, in spite of my expressing my concern several times to the teacher.

On to second grade...at my school.  She was still behind in reading.  Her second grade teacher that year told me that, if she had not been my child (meaning she thought we would work at home), that she would have recommended that AT return to first grade.  And within 9 weeks, she was reading on the second grade level.  You decide:  maturation, or poor instruction.  We'll never know.

AT continued at my school until she completed elementary school.  The reading problem never appeared again.  I'm so glad we had those years together, all those rides together back and forth to school.  Inside the school,  AT's and my relationship was somewhat formal.  In general, she can be a very independent being.   If I passed her in line, we would smile and wave, but just as I wave at any other student.  However, there were a few moments when  "mean" girls were overwhelming and she ran to me after school and climbed up in my lap for comfort.  My heart hurt at the time, but now, I'm filled with thankfulness that I had those precious moments. 

The plan had always been for AT to return to the town school system for middle school.  My rationale was that, in high school, the larger school would provide more variety for AT's creative intelligence, her strength.   AT was very happy at my school and had many friends, so the summer after fifth grade, she was very frustrated with me.  Well, not frustrated.  Mad.  All summer, when people congratulated her on moving to middle school, she let her feelings be known.  "My mom is making me change schools.". I stayed firm.  She changed.

Now...back to middle school.  First day of school.  This was emotionally our Kindergarten year, at least in my mind.  Her true Kindergarten year and first grade were long past.  She had been with me at school for the past five years.  Now I was sending her off with strangers.  She was growing up too fast.  She was still frustrated with me for making her change schools.  We wandered around outside the school, looking for the sixth grade gathering area, then looking for the line for her homeroom teacher.  She said, "Don't leave me!"  I assured her I wouldn't until we found the right line.   Ahh, there it was.  I heard a teacher announce her teacher's name.  She was in the right line and I was about to cry.  I quickly told her.   "I'll be here to pick you up after school.  Love you." and turned away.  I did not turn back to look since I did not want her to see me cry.  I was about 50 feet away and I felt a hand on my arm.  I turned.  It was her, coming for one last "Love you."  She said, "Love you.  Are you crying?"  "Love you and no."  We both turned away and went on with our day.

First Post

I've had a private blog for several years, although I've been neglecting it recently since I've discovered Facebook.   I called my private blog "a grandma blog", with braggings about my child and reports of family events. I've long been thinking about creating a public blog and with the recent inspiration of a co-worker's blog, acraftyteacher.com, I've been inspired to discipline myself and start a public blog. I intend for my writings to be positive. I am very aware that the written word can be interpreted a variety of ways and that is the reason I have waited this long to have a public blog. I have journaled for a long time and write everything so my daughter can read it someday without an “ouch. “ That is also my intent for this blog.

So, here we go. First you need to know the cast of characters.

Myself – I am a wife, a mom, a speech-language pathologist, a post-menopausal woman posing as a young mom, a foodie, a ballroom dancer and maybe I will think of other things later. My interests also include yoga, health, and reading. Not much high risk behavior at this point in my life, but I'm having lots of fun!

Energizer Man (EM) – He is my husband and is an amusing character who will appear occasionally in the blog. He gets the name EM because he is the strongest, hardest working man I've ever watched work. And that's not just my opinion. He can do anything he needs to do on the computer, but has no interest in social computer networking. He will probably never read this, although I will usually tell him what I write. He is also passionate, intense, and smart.

Almost Teenager (AT) – She is 12 and flips between teenager and child. She is our delight and is creative, intense, talented, and funny. And Dramatic!  Currently, she is gasping as it she were dying, on the other side of the bed, pretending she is stuck under the bed. I'm supposed to bite and go over there to see what the problem is. I don't mean to encourage her with all the drama, but she often catches me off guard and I laugh aloud. I'm either laughing or saying “Stop it!” Now she may be pretending she's climbing on top of a block of ice in the North Sea, since she recently saw the movie The Titantic. That's the way she works.

The Dog – She has just reminded me that she exists. She is almost seven and calmer, but she has spent most of her life trying to be dominant and bossy. The dog never lies. If she says her bone is under the bed, it's under the bed.

The Cat – She is five and bossy also. She is very talkative and her favorite activity is to yell at EM, loudly and repeatedly, which annoys the heck out of him. The cat always lies. If she says she has never been fed today, it's not the truth. The dog LOVES the cat and was delighted when we got her.

One of the primary topics I'll address is FOOD!  Love it. I enjoy cooking for my family, but it is a real challenge. By the time you combine thinking of menu ideas, time-constraints, and individual preferences, it's often overwhelming. EM, due to health issues (which are very well managed), is interested in low sodium, heart-healthy recipes. However, due to his passionate nature, he thinks about food only when hungry. If I ask what he wants to supper and he's not hungry, he has no suggestions. If I say, “Does this taste funny to you?”, he immediately stops eating that food. (You know that I have learned NEVER to say that). We are basically vegetarian at home (we eat seafood), but will attack meat when eating out.

I want savory – umami – strong flavors – food adventures. I've been told I like “stinky” foods and it's true. Hummus, salmon, feta cheese, wasabi, vinegars, smoked oysters, sushi. The list going on and on. I love to plan meals and parties. When I find a great recipe, victory! I plan to post those recipes.

AT is a chickennugget-wheat-tarian. She likes a nice variety of foods, but wants everything seperate, not mixed. She does not eat beef at all and I struggle to get her to eat her veggies and fruit. No vinegars, mayo, white sauces for her.

Why is the blog named "It's Fun to Be a Grownup?"  Because, when I was in my 20s, I had a new job, new friends, new income, new state.  I was on a great adventure and became known for saying "It's fun to be a grownup!"  Now, a long time later, I still feel the same way (usually).

So, off on the blog adventure. I look forward to connecting with you!