Kindergarten Conference

What can I say? It is hard for me to blog about what is going on with EJ's school progress without feeling like I'm bragging. Boasting. Being "that parent," the one who is really jerky and spoken of as the one who "thinks her kid is SO SPECIAL."

I've hesitated this year to write down, in this place, so many of the amazing things going on with the kiddo, for fear that I will appear to be bragging. I don't feel like it IS bragging to tell the truth, especially when I feel so strongly that we, as EJ's parents, have very little to do with her current successes. We are just staying out of that little powerhouse's way, trying to keep things safe and fun and supportive. All that said, it feels wrong not to document in this place, where I have shared so many other ups (and downs) since she was born, a taste of the fun that is being her mom as she approaches the end of kindergarten.

Mike and I went to her kindergarten conference today, the second one of the year. EJ is one of the youngest kids in the class, but she is running fast and furious with the head of the pack. We didn't really need the conference to tell us that---intuition, plus the knowledge that her spelling group had "fortified" as one of their words last week, have really been enough to clue us in. For goodness sake, I brought her up to my cousin's fourth grade classroom a few weeks ago when she had a day off school to be the secret reader, and she picked two books off the shelf, did a quick "pre-read" to herself while waiting to go in front of the class, read them aloud beautifully to roughly 30 students from two classrooms, used inflection, added sound effects, pointed to funny pictures, gave hints, (i.e., "Okay, here come's a funny part!"), did quick page-count math (i.e., "only 11 pages left!") and then managed to do a question and answer session following her reading without missing a beat. Later on, she told me she was nervous before she started reading, and when I asked her why, expecting it to be stagefright or worries about the reading, itself, her reply was, "Mom, I've never spent time with FOURTH GRADERS before." Yeah, we had an idea she was doing well. All that said, it is really something for a teacher to look you in the eye with a test result form in hand and say, "Here's what we know. I most-recently tested her reading in January. When she started the school year this fall, she was already reading at the first-grade level, a "G" in our test, but by January, she was testing at level "L," which is where we'd like students to be at the end of second grade. She could be farther than that now, and likely is, but as soon as she reaches the "M" level, the testing becomes written and multi-layered, which is more than we do here in kindergarten."

So, there's that. Even though I think that the expectation that children be early, advanced readers at this age is developmentally ridiculous, it is wonderful to know that my kid is cruising along happily. Since we have a child who spontaneously started reading at age three, and is now reading to prep for third grade, I might as well get excited to cue up "Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing" and "Superfudge," right?

Once we all agreed that EJ's developmental needs are not going to be reading related, we cut to the chase and moved on to other areas. When we asked what we could do at this point to continue to support her, her teacher told us to "keep her loving what she's doing, because she really does love it." Apparently, even when concepts are being taught in class that EJ has already mastered, she doesn't disengage. She stays a part of the group, keeps interested, and is happy to be a part of it, even if it isn't challenging.

With all that love in the room, we came to our big question, "How is EJ doing socially? Does she have friends? Does she play well?"

Here's where I got a few healthy shutters in, particularly as I thought about what is to come for this clever, sweet kid in the next few years.

Apparently, the girls are "practicing being girls," as her teacher very diplomatically put it, and "we are having to help them out with that." Huh. She was then more blunt: "They are pairing off and cliquing up."

EJ plays well with all the kids in her class, but unlike many of the girls, she has not paired off with another particular girl as a best friend. This can lead her to be "sensitive," (also diplomatic) when she approaches girls and asks to play, and is told things like, "This is a game for only two, so you can't join." Her teacher let us know that, when these situations arise, they (she and her student teacher) encourage the girls to "find a game that is good for three, then."

Yes, the social drama is starting to unfold for EJ, just as sure as her reading began without any particular effort on our part. The complex society of girls on an elementary school playground is beginning to form, and our kid doesn't have a partner in crime. I'm pleased, on the one hand, that she gets along well with everyone, and isn't particularly prone to cliques, but I'm wise from experience, too---it hurts to be excluded, plain and simple, and it gets worse as social groups become more clearly differentiated. And to be a smart kid on the outs....my stomach just churns with the thought.

Sigh. Am I back at Jeffery School, hoping, just hoping, that I am finally running with the in-crowd? Wait, this isn't about me... and yet, I'd be a liar if I said that thinking of my kid having to navigate this social stuff doesn't take me back to those tender, wounded spots in my own memory, the ones that I think are healed, but don't spend much time poking around under the band-aids to check.

Having a daughter is not for the faint-of-heart.

The good news, happily, is that EJ has one very special friend at school, a well-liked, very kind boy who thinks the world of her, and she of him. They pal around, and she is happy. She also has her carpool buddy, a boy she has known since nursery school, who she proudly calls one of her best friends, and better yet, she loves this boy's parents and siblings, too. Then, there are the other special girls---the friends from preschool, our family friends whom she adores. As usual, she is fine, and we are worried, and we should just chill out and put down, "Queen Bees and Wannabes" and say over and over "SHE IS FINE."

Again, what can I say? This kid blows my mind, in more ways than I can count. Being her parent this year, in particular, is by far one of the most delightful experiences I have ever had. No, I don't want to brag, but I'm glad I've written this all down, because truthfully, it is the closest thing I know to bottling up a concoction of love, joy and pride to keep on hand for those days down the road when life is less breezy.