My daughter’s teacher came out into the hallway this morning at drop off to tell me a story from yesterday. All of the kids were given a piece of paper with a printed poem and a blank space for them to draw a picture. They were told to draw their picture and they would read the poem together when they were finished. Since this is kindergarten, the children are all at different reading levels. My daughter reads pretty well already. I know this because she reads to me every night and the stories she tells me actually match the books. This is a little surprising to me considering she spends so much time with my Dad who is completely unable to tell a story or sign a birthday card without adding his own verbiage. As my daughter was drawing her picture, she was, of course, reading the poem out loud. One of her classmates asked her “You can read?” Her reply was quick and decisive. She said very matter-of-factly “I’m not just a pretty face!” Indeed, she is not.
Yesterday was my daughter’s last Monday in Kindergarten. She has less than two weeks left of school and then she will be home for the summer. This is going to be an interesting summer. Since she has been in school she has spent summer days with her Grandparents. A few years ago I took Fridays off work so she and I could have one day a week to spend alone together. We spent most of those days sleeping in late and going to the zoo. These were fun days for her but it only lasted for about ten weeks before it became unfeasible at my office. Since then she has always spent summers as well as any other school breaks at her grandparents’ house. She does not expect this summer to be any different, even though I have told her repeatedly that since I now work from home she will be spending more time with me. (more…)
Why do kids like gross stuff? The grosser it is, the more they like it. My daughter came running up to me last night while we were shopping at Michael’s yelling “Mom, I want unicorn poop! Can I get unicorn poop?” I must have looked at her like she was speaking a different language because she slowed down her speech a little as she touched my hand and said “They have REAL poop!” Now even more perplexed I looked up to find my husband halfway across the store with a smile on his face. Apparently he knew what she was talking about. That, or he was amused by my confusion. (more…)
They must have been all worn out from coming up with clever nicknames!
My Dad is a master of the nickname. He has one for everyone. Well, everyone he likes. You know you have made it to his good side once you have received a new name from him. It’s like a right of passage. I think it took my husband a few years of marriage before he was dubbed “John-boy”. The guy I dated prior to that never got a nickname even though he was around for ten years. My Dad called him “Dick” a lot, but so did everyone who knew him so I don’t think that counts. I have not heard my given name from my Dad’s mouth since I was seven. Not even when I was in trouble. (more…)