First Grade....

In five hours Addie will get off the bus for the last time this year.   First grade will be history.  And I find myself unexpectedly teary.  If I am this emotional about first grade ending, how will I ever survive high school graduation?
This year has been phenomenal for Addison.  In the words of her teacher, whom I adore, Addison has truly blossomed. 
Without a doubt she started the year excited, but anxious.  She didn't go to St. James in Kindergarten, and was one of only nine new kids in the three first grade classes.  She needn't worry; within days I was being told stories of Lily and Riley and Alyson and Melanie.  I heard about Noah and Charlie and Jack and Joseph.  Every day I was told about their routine; about morning work and journaling and computer class and whatever other wonderful thing happened.
At our first teacher conference, Andy and I were told what a conscientious student Addison was becoming, almost to a fault, as her teacher said Addie was her own worse critic.  At the start of school Addison struggle a bit with reading, particularly her fluency. Now books are a huge part of her day, we give her a  few minutes at bedtime to just read to herself, more nights than not, I take her book out of her sleeping hands as I head to bed.  Just the other day Andy came inside from the patio and declared Addison was obviously my child - she was curled up in one of our Adirondack chairs reading a book of fairy tales silently to herself.
The worst spelling grade she got this year was a ninety percent - and you would have thought we told her the world was ending.  She has maintained solid As in all subjects, including that Spanish class that she hates so much. 
Addison's writing has also improved by miles.  She loves to write and illustrate stories and works very hard to spell everything correctly.  I find scraps of paper daily with notes to Andy, Brenna or me, sometimes telling us she loves us, sometimes a poem or short story.  I love her imprecise, yet perfect, first grade scrawl.
She worked very hard this year on several written projects for school.  She wrote about Saint Joseph, President John Adams and the Red Panda.  With each project she worked hard to find out about her subject and took enormous pride in illustrating her report - those too, were marked Outstanding by her teacher.

First grade had its rougher days too.  Turns out girl drama starts early and often occurs at recess or the lunch table.  Who you sit with or play with or talk to can really influence your day - or so I learned.  I am biased, of course, but it seemed that Addie wasn't often the drama creator, but nonetheless was easily sucked into the drama of her six and seven year old friends. 
I know of only three times that Addie had a truly bad day at school.  One was in the first few months, when one of the little boys in another first grade class punched her in the stomach as they were on their way to the bus.  She had been complaining that he was bothering her and wasn't until then that I realized how serious it was.  Her teacher took care of it as soon as I reached out to her and, luckily,  I never heard his name mentioned again.  Her second tough day was when she was fired from being class messenger.  Addie had separated from her partner while running school errands and her teacher, who was strict but fair, took the job away.  Addison cried for a day or two; but it was a wonderful lesson learned on listening to directions.    Finally, just in the last weeks of school Miss Thang started to become very forgetful on bringing home all her homework assignments - after her second or third time forgetting an assignment she lost five minutes of recess time and had to "stand on the line".  When I asked her how that felt, she said it felt like much longer than five minutes.  A shining star moment though - Addison never had to move desks and ended the year in the exact same spot she started in, meaning she never got reprimanded for her behavior in the classroom. 

In this year, she has grown in so many immeasurable ways.  She is compassionate and patient.  She is generous and intuitive.  She is deeply creative and very spiritual.   She has grown in noticeable ways too - she's gone up one and a half shoe sizes.  We had to get onto my lap, but she scarcely fits. 

Two nights ago, as  I tucked her in, she told me, with a few tears, that she was really sad that school was ending.  She was going to miss her teacher and the learning that she does each day.  I assured that second grade would be just as wonderful and she looked at me with those eyes that know so much and said I just don't see how, Mama.

Somehow, a little less than a week ago, kindergarten ended.  ENDED.  Kindergarten.  I swear she was just getting on the bus for the first time an hour ago.

Addie grew so much this school year, but it is hard to pinpoint all the changes.  She grew more confident, more self-assured.  She, amazingly, became even more inquisitive and imaginative.  Some days she was more sensitive.  She may have learned to talk back a bit, be a little sassy, show her bossy side too.  She learned how to navigate girl drama, which oddly occurred frequently on her school bus (what in the world is there to be dramatic about in kindergarten, you ask...so much).  She definitely picked up new phrases  and words and discovered music beyond what we spoon fed her (don't worry, she's not a Belieber).
Her teacher consistently told us what a wonderful part of the class Addie was and each time I worked in the classroom I witnessed what a diligent student she had become.  Addie counted all 22 of her classmates as a friend, even the ones that weren't always so nice.
There were mornings that were excruciatingly painful, often filled with frustration, as we tried to make it out to the bus on time being fed, clean and awake.  Still, most days we succeeded.
Addison still loves being fancy, and shows that a lot when she draws or colors.  She loves using all different colors and adds her own details to coloring pages.  If I saved every picture she drew or colored for us, I could wallpaper our entire house, twice.
Her math and reading skills are great.  She is a fabulous writer too, but tends to go a bit fast or tries to be to fancy, both of which result in sloppy. She is excited to practice all of them, even now during her summer break. 
I find her sitting with Brenna and reading her book after book; Brenna is a great listener.  She is constantly counting things and asks Andy and I to quiz her with math questions.  She loves to write - sentences, little stories, people's names and her favorite phrase I love you.  Her last writing assignment in her Kindergarten portfolio is about soccer and it makes me smile every time I look at it.

It's been less than a week of summer and already when we play school we play first grade...as if kindergarten is a distant memory.  I don't know if I am ready for my baby to be so big.

First Week

I never thought that parenthood would be easy.  I knew what I had put my mother through, I had heard stories of how naughty Andy could be.  I figured that he and I were going to have to buckle up and hang on tight, especially through the teen years. 
What I didn't know was that the teen years would start at the age of five.

To say the first week of Kindergarten was bumpy would be a massive understatement.  Addie lost privileges left and right - no screen time, no books before bed, no playdates.  It was as though someone had taken my sweet, occasionally mercurial, five year old and swapped her with a 16 year old in the throws of puberty.
All week long Andy and I were treated to eye rolling, foot stomping and huffing.  I would catch Addie muttering behind our backs or glaring at us for no particular reason.  She didn't want to do her chores;  She hated what was for dinner.  She didn't want to play with her sister; She lied about the littlest thing.  She was sassy and mouthy and mean.  For no reason she hit her sister's bottom as hard as she could, and then lied when she was caught.
Andy and I were at a loss.  Our spirited, independent, sweet five year old had morphed into a moody, opinionated, grouchy brat.  We talked and talked to her, we took away privileges, we punished her actions - we got nowhere.

If this was what Kindergarten looked like, then I wanted preschool back.  I was so disappointed - I thought school would make Addie blossom and bloom.  I thought she would come home full of stories and eager to show me what she had learned.  I had not bargained on the tired, aloof, mean-spiritedness that was I was getting.

And then on Friday morning she woke up with fever and cough.  She had to stay home with me where she she snuggled, and rested, and napped.  Half way through the day she curled up on my lap and whispered I really miss you and Brenna when I am at school, Mama. 
I know, I told her, we miss you too.  But when you're at school we don't do anything fun with out you.  B naps and I do laundry and wait for you to come home.
Oh, she murmured and snuggled a bit closer with a hint of a smile.

Friday night her fever broke.  We spent the long weekend with family and friends and back she went to school yesterday.  When she got home I was told about meeting Ronald McDonald and going to the gymnasium.  I heard all about what bullies are and was shown new work in the homework folder.  She chatted and she played with her sister - and finally I got a glimpse of Kindergartner I thought I would have.

This morning I woke all of six minutes early.
I wanted to make sure that Andy remembered to swap cars with me and take his lunch to work. After he left, as I started to brew my mini-pot of decaffeinated coffee, I heard the patter of little feet upstairs followed by some sniffling and tears.
When I got up stairs to find out what was wrong with my little dear I was greeted with a big pouty face streaked with tears.

I wanta hug and kiss Daddy good bye and tell him Have a Good Day and I think he's all gone.

I told her yes, Dad had to leave for work, but she'd see him tonight. She curled into my side and continued to cry and softly hiccup. I stroked her hair and thought about how sweet it was that she wanted to tell Andy to have a good day and make sure he knew that she loved him. What a sweet little pumpkin.

A few seconds later she looked up at me with those gorgeous eyes of hers and asked
Why do some of my friends cry for their Mommy at school?
I told her I thought maybe they missed their moms and were sad to be without them. Her response was
Oh. I don't cry. I don't miss you at school ever Mommy. School has so many fun toys that just don't miss you. Let's get dressed, today is school!

I guess the pecking order is rather clear...

Conferences

Growing up I was always a pretty good student. I generally did what I was told and listened to my teachers. I almost always did my homework, but occasionally forgot to hand it in. I was a bit a chatty in class, but rarely disrespectful.
In fact, growing up I remember idolizing my teachers.
I think preschool set the tone of my loving school and my teachers (I could tell you about every single one of my teachers, but I think that might be a bit of a long post). My preschool teacher, Miss Paula, was cool. She was stylish and funny and read good stories. With the exception of my evil Kindergarten teacher, all I adored all my teachers. And even though I knew my conferences would go well, I always fretted about what would be said about me.
What if my teacher secretly didn't like me? What if I was failing and didn't know it? What if what if what if?

Inevitably, my teachers usually had the same things to say about me - "Jessica works hard. Jessica needs a little help with her organization. Jessica is quite the social butterfly. It's hard to believe that Jessica and JohnEthan are siblings".

My mother would come home with the same report: try to be more organized, remember to hand in your homework, ssssshhhhhhh. And then she'd take my brother in the other room and they would have a long talk that I was not invited to.

Addie has been in two day a week preschool since September. She loves it. She adores her teacher. She pouts on snow days, plays school with her dollies and repeatedly tells us that when she grows up she wants to be a teacher. She loves school, she loves learning and loves Miss Sue.

Tuesday was our first parent teacher conference. It was all of fifteen minutes long and it was glowing. Addison is a joy to have in class. Addison loves to learn. Addison is such a sweetie.

We were told that her cognitive development is right on. She recognizes her colors, numbers., shapes and letters. She is drawing most of her shapes. She recognizes her name and is starting to write it. She can count and recite her alphabet. She can hold pencils and scissors correctly.

She follows directions, expresses what she needs, has a good attention span and listens well. She is respectful to herself and her peers, takes turns and participates. And so forth and so on - a glowing report overall.

The places she needs improvement? Respecting school materials and cleaning up after herself - apparently she thinks everything she plays with belongs on the floor when she is done. Which is exactly what she does at home with her things and is a battle we've been fighting for the last few months.

We've seen her grow since starting school - she's become a better problem solver, her imagination has exploded. She is much better at turn taking and sharing. Her vocabulary is out of control. She points out words that rhyme, she can tell us that boy cardinals are red and girl cardinals are brown, she asks endless questions about the world around her.

Our silly 15 minute conference reassured me that Addie is doing a-okay. But what I loved most about it was seeing her work from the beginning of the year until now. Being with her all day, every day, I sometimes can't see how much she's changed or grown, but I think these pictures illustrate her growth perfectly.

In October, Miss Sue asked Addie to draw a face - this is her first attempt.

Miss Sue then told Addie she really needed her to draw a face - so Addie drew this.

Last week Miss Sue asked Addie to draw her family - and she drew this.

Leaps and bounds, she's grown, leaps and bounds.