A Mother Knows

You asked me to make you a drawing that you could color, so there you are. I won't deny that it was EASIER, but it felt like I was cheating.

You got your first report card today, and you know, not to toot my own horn or anything, but apparently you don't need to have a degree in early childhood education to understand your child's strengths. I don't know how many times I've mentioned that you are doing well in reading and writing, but even better (as in, ADVANCED) in math concepts. Today, my educated guesses were validated. Not that I needed it, but it was still nice to see that truly am tuned into your education:

Why yes, those 3's mean you are excelling, my dear. They mean that you are probably a little bit bored with what you are learning in class (as evidenced by the lack of new information you are bringing home) because you already know it. I'm trying not to be one of those parents who brags about your accomplishments, but I am so flipping proud of you kid that I simply can't help it.

(And don't worry, I don't think brain surgeons really need to be concerned about excelling at geometry.)

P.S.S. Geometry sucks.

New Kid

You are no longer the newest kid in your class, you are now the second newest kid in the class. I thought this deserved a high five, but you told me it wasn't so bad being the new kid, because only the first day is scary.

I think this class may be a little bit behind your other school, probably because this school doesn't have to worry about test scores like the old school did and inundating you with reading, writing and 'rithmatic from the get go is not as important. My first clue was when I asked your new teacher when you should turn in your homework and she told me something to the effect of "oh, whenever". Your old school was very serious about homework and getting it turned in on time. Also, you are just learning to sound out words (again), something you were doing in October at the other school. I'm not sure which way I prefer it, because part of me thinks Kindergarten should just be about fun and getting used to the classroom environment. But the other part of me saw how much fun it was for you to learn something new every day. I guess that's what first grade is for.

These Days

These days, our doorbell rings non-stop and it is rarely for any of the adults in the house. You've managed to fit right in and make yourself some bona fide neighborly friends; something previously difficult to do given the wandering nature of apartment types. It makes me want to stay forever. I should talk to the landlord about signing a forever and ever lease.

These days, you know the real story about Santa. Because you asked me. In a grocery store. On Christmas Eve. And because I think you are a lot like me in that respect, I gave you the whole truth and nothing but the truth and you were totally okay with it. Just as I suspected you would be. Now you belong to a special club of big boys who know.

These days, you ask me when you can have your next sleepover, because you slept in another house without me or dad for the first time ever. The mom is a friend of mine and this was planned long ago. We made a deal, see, and you kept your end of the bargain, so I kept mine and for one night you slept on an air mattress and played Wii far away from home.

These days, your dad takes you to movies. He doesn't like movies, but I couldn't stomach a round of Alvin and the Chipmunks, so I put your dad on the spot and he took you to see it. I am pretty sure that's the first movie theater he's ever taken you to. I took you to Avatar, your dad took you to Alvin. Somehow I think Alvin was more special.

These days, you always remember to be thankful. It's your new thing. Thanking everyone for everything. It's sweet and I know it won't last forever. Plus, you've got the cutest way of saying it.