Puppets

I remember when Connor was in the Oak Tree Kindergarten class, he treated us to a lot of puppet shows. Now that Helen is in the class, she often does the same. 

It doesn't take much to set the shows up. Usually a few random toys, a tabletop, and a bit of an audience. That last element is optional, and I do enjoy these shows more when she doesn't realize I'm watching them.

While at her Grandma's house this past weekend, Helen plopped herself into an exer-saucer and set to work. It was probably the best thing that ever happened in that device.

Also, going through the Kindergarten class is easier the second time for me. Because at about this point in the year, many people start asking the question "Is Helen reading yet?" and tell stories of their own 5 year old reading up a storm. With Connor, I would occasionally get nervous that I had made a bad choice sending him to a Waldorf school, which doesn't teach children to read in Kindergarten. I worried I was setting him up for future failure, even though in my heart I knew this could not possibly be true. Now, when I tell people that no, Helen does not read - nor will she for a couple of years, I can confidently address their uneasy stares. Because my second grader? He reads just fine. And so will Helen.

Elaine

Saint Michael

As the days have grown shorter, Helen has definitely sensed the change of seasons. She's already started doing lantern walks around the neighborhood (a tradition in Waldorf schools) and this past week, she started reenacting the story of Saint Michael. Saint Michael's story is retold annually during Michaelmas, and this year appears to have been very meaningful to Helen.

Essentially, the story of Michael is about conquering your dragons in this season of darkness, thereby bringing light. The second graders in Helen's school perform the story as a play, and in this year's play, a rather quiet girl wields the sword. It appears that has been incredibly empowering for Helen.

For the past few days, Helen has been marching around with her wooden store, declaring that she will slay the dragon and calling out "I am Saint Michael!". She also dons a golden cape I made Connor a few years ago when he wanted to be a hobgoblin for Halloween. Oh how I love seeing that cape get an extended life.

Helen's baby, Flower, is posing for the camera here.

We all, of course, have dragons to slay. My personal dragon for this season is the numerous small spaces in my home that have become filled with clutter. I'm trying to go through one small space each evening in the hopes that my home will be closer to clutter-free at the end of Winter. Also, I'm resisting the urge to settle into the metro rather than ride my bike to work.

May we all find a way to slay our dragons this season!

Elaine

Helen's First Day

It seems as if all the bandwidth on this blog dedicated to school goes straight to Connor. I do care about Helen's school experience, but her path is so clear to me that I don't spend a lot of time over-thinking it, stressing about it, or worrying at all. Partly, this stems from Connor and Helen being so different. Where Connor would be perfectly happy to go unnoticed for a while and if things go wrong - he'll basically just accept them, unless Helen has busied herself painting her nails or applying make-up, she'd prefer to be noticed - and she doesn't just accept things. I never worry that she won't get what she needs, because she demands it. Mostly, being at a tiny, private school with teachers that I already know on a path I've walked before feels easy.

But I have to remind myself that Helen's experiences are new to her, and so it came as quite a shock to me that rather than bounding onto the playground as she had done at drop-off of Connor two years ago, when she begged not to be noticed so she could join the class, Helen started her time in the Oak Tree Kindergarten in the background. First clinging to my leg for much of the open house, and then settling in behind or beside Ed and I at drop-off the next two days, she impatiently reported to me at the end of the second full day that she did not want to go to school.

To hear her tell it, school stresses her out. "Mom, C kept asking me to play saying 'don't you want to play with your old friend, Helen?' Only I didn't want to play with her because H and J and I were building a rocketship and we needed to finish it and then I went to play with C but she was mad at me." This was followed with "H and I are getting married. We're going to have strawberry ice cream at our marrying party. Do you think my birthday party could be a marrying party?" And apparently it was H, not Helen, who brought the issue up.

Today she seemed more settled, and I'm hopeful she'll hit her stride in the coming week. Ironically, when Connor was in the class, Ed and I often remarked how the girls seemed somewhat blase about getting to school, hanging out with the parents before morning verse, while the boys were like a pack of hounds running around the playground from the start. Despite the slow start, I'll be shocked if Helen is still hanging out with the parents in a couple of weeks. She's more of a pack leader.

But...she's been known to surprise me before.

Without further ado...the first day of school shot, taken by Ed.

Elaine

Final Week

We made it. We're in the last week of school. It will include 2 early release days (thank you, Arlington County!), an awards day (where Connor has predicted he will get an award for being so well-behaved. Confident little dude - don't you think? [edited to add he received the award of class mathemagician]), a game day (where hopefully he will find someone who loves Monopoly as much as he does, I'm looking at you, A!), and a picnic in the park. This seems like a pretty fine wrap-up to me. Only thing better would be if school was already out.

Today was the award ceremony and picnic. During the award ceremony, Mrs. H. showed a slideshow of class photos and a photo of Helen was included. Nice touch, I thought. Helen could not have been more pleased. When her photo came up, Mrs. H. announced "honorary member". And at the picnic today, Helen spent her time bouncing from friend to friend in first grade.

I looked back at the post I wrote to start the year, and what strikes me is that what I wanted most was for Mrs. H. to recognize that she had a great kid in front of her. She did that in spades. From start to finish, Connor has felt loved. She challenged him when he needed to be challenged, she called him on a piece of sub-par work when it was necessary, and wow did she give it everything she had, particularly in those scary first days. Connor's teacher was as steady as could be with him. She was gentle, she was kind, and she absolutely recognized that though his background was different than most, it was not inferior.

I learned that it's a hard thing to drop your kid off in a classroom knowing that your child (my child), because of the background I had chosen, was going to struggle with reading. This, followed with the realization that Connor did not know how to hold a pencil. There was, most definitely, a moment or two when my stomach flip-flopped, and I questioned my choice to keep Connor at the Waldorf school - and for reference, I regularly tell people that sending my children to a Waldorf school was the best parenting decision Ed and I ever made. Those were hard days for me, and though Connor never came home mad at me, I'm guessing they were pretty hard for him, too. Now? I'm totally giving myself a pat on the back. As it turns out, that year of Kindergarten at Potomac Crescent was the perfectly right year for Connor. But I'm well aware it could have ended up being disasterous, if Connor had another first grade teacher. One day, I asked Mrs. H. how burdensome it was for her, and whether I should consider sending Helen to Kindergarten at public school. She was so cool. She told me things always worked out and there was no need for me to change course with Helen.

I learned a few nights ago at an evening event with adults from Connor's school about something else Connor's teacher did those first few weeks. She specifically instructed another parent when the parent was helping Connor with work that she should only discuss letters in terms of their shapes - that he came from a non-academic background. Does she even know that's how the alphabet is taught at a Waldorf school? It's as simple as straight lines and curved lines. That's a little gift Connor's teacher gave me without Connor or I even noticing.

The most important thing Connor's teacher did for Connor - and I'm sure she does it for all the students in her class - was to recognize that things change. So while he started out in the worst reading group (and I'm using the term "reading" very loosely), when he finally caught on to reading, she advanced him right up those reading groups until a few weeks ago when she announced to me Connor was reading at the 6th grade level. Connor is, for the most part, a very easy going kid - and he never would've protested a placement in a reading group. His teacher could've easily left him to the side of the road and not watched his advancement, but she didn't. She was on it the whole time.

In the end, kids stuggle. People struggle. It's probably where we find our humanity. And from beginning to end, Connor was supported by a great teacher. She may, in fact, be the one he remembers for a long time.

We won't be doing a single academic thing this summer. We'll be playing and painting and vacationing. We've earned it!

I sent this kid to school in September:

I'm getting this one back for the summer:

Elaine

Endings...

This morning, I dropped Helen off at her Morning Glory class for the last time ever. Next year, she will be in the Oak Tree class, and as much as I know she will love it, I'm marking this morning as my saddest parenting day yet. She will miss class so much.

This year, she has learned a ton of funny games. One evening, she surprised us by teaching us a game that required a small stick. Ed and I had no idea how we were going to make a stick materialize in the children's bedroom at bedtime, but Helen did. She had carefully squirreled one away early in the day, so when we said "I'm sorry Helen, I don't think we have a stick up here", she happily announced "I know where one is!" and though Ed and I doubted her, she went right to her previously hidden booty and showed us the stick. Well played, Helen, well played.

Miss A. and Miss K. will both be leaving the school. That's too bad for all the children yet to come. For as much as I know the next teacher will be remarkable in her own way, it won't be this pair. Together, they were great.

Every morning, the two of them greeted Helen with a smile. Most days, Helen was happy to bound off without even a glance back, though there were lots of days she'd shout "see you later, alligator" and I might respond "bye, bye, butterfly". Funny enough, we started the year this way, and we ended it this way this morning. "Don't forget your vanilla, you silly gorilla!"

Helen has played with nearly every child in her classroom. She has tales to tell about all of them, and often mimics their speech pattern in the evening. Pure comedy, I tell you. Helen is blessed with particularly clear speech ("funder" recently turned into "thunder", even!). She's also blessed with a very good ear and the ability to mimic other people's accents, missing r's, internally scrambled consonants and the like. I'm glad that almost all of these children will be in class with her next year. Although a few are leaving and that's sad.

From the moment Helen and I walked into Potomac Crescent Waldorf School, Helen has looked forward to being dropped off, and was just thrilled that this was her year. She owned it. In every way possible, she owned it.

For a time, she would greet every single child with a huge smile and hello when they entered the playground, as if they were the most important people in the whole world to her. I loved this. I wish I could take credit for it. But it's not me, that's just how Helen is. She's happy. She's surrounded by people who love her, and she wants the whole world to feel loved. If she could wrap us all in her little arms, she would.

I could never possibly thank Miss A. and Miss K. enough for the way they've watched Helen blossom this year, and I'm dreadfully sorry that it is unlikely Helen will hold many of these memories very long. She's just too young. But, we have a special doll and sling made by Miss A., and of course, the star child she was gifted for her birthday. I'm hoping these are always special touchstones for Helen.

For our class gift, each child / parent was asked to contribute something small to hang on a wreath. Helen did a little piece of finger knitting that I turned into a flower. Miss A. had sent me a link to a website showing me how to do it at the beginning of the year when Helen had fire balled into a finger knitting stage.

At today's picnic, Helen spent time soaking up her two newest friends, and even scored an afternoon playdate with one of them. A more thrilled child you have never seen. And the mom of the playdate extended a standing invitation for Helen to come over anytime. I'm sure we'll be taking advantage of that offer.

And now...onto summer!

Elaine