Yesterday morning, as he tied his shoes, J discovered that he had procrastinated his "book report" too long. It was due that morning. I urged him to quickly complete the three simple worksheets that comprised this project. We keep a lap-desk in the car for precisely this reason.
A glance at the worksheets reduced J to sobbing. I was shocked by his reaction, although I admit I was happy to see him shedding tears. It seemed that the stress I had seen building in him over the past two weeks was finally being released. He told me that he couldn't remember anything about the book he'd read for this assignment, and he'd returned it to his teacher weeks ago. He just couldn't do the assignment, and, most distressingly, participation in that day's Friday Fun depended on turning in the papers.
On the drive to school, I again tried to probe into J's psyche in an attempt to address the problems that were causing so much unhappiness. He confessed that the math at school was just too hard! My first thought was that he was in over his head, that skipping a grade last year may have been a mistake, and only now was he feeling out of his depth. Following quickly on the heels of that thought, however, was the remembrance of his testing, which showed that at the beginning of his first grade year, he was capable of doing 5th and 6th grade math.
Later in the day, I connected J's present problems with those he experienced in kindergarten. He absolutely refused to do his homework for about 4 months. We finally got to the bottom of his reticence...boredom. Although he spent much of his free time drawing and writing, and had done so for most of his preschool years, he just could not be constrained to draw and label 5 things that started with the letter "R." It was uninteresting to him and limited his creativity unbearably.
The surfacing of that memory suddenly threw his book report problem into bright light. He had procrastinated the paperwork because it was idiotically simple! I'm not kidding. It asked him to choose 5 words from his book and list them in alphabetical order, and circle whether he wanted to read the book to his parent, have his parent read to him, or to read on his own. And I, unsure of what kind of book the teacher wanted J to read for this project, but sensing that Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix would not likely fit the bill, I let J choose a book from the classroom shelves. He naively chose a Goosebumps book. He read that book in half an hour, getting it out of the way the very night he brought it home, then dove right back into Harry Potter. That was nearly a month ago. It's no wonder that he remembers nothing of that simple book! And to make matters worse, the grade level of the particular book he read is only 1.5. The Order of the Phoenix is 6.7.
I had a call from J's gifted teacher, and in the course of our conversation, I mentioned that J was complaining that 3rd grade math is too hard for him. She wasn't fooled, like I was, by his statement. She explained that he was likely so bored in class (despite his being a grade higher than he should) that he could not pay attention when his teacher was explaining the math, so when it came time to do the problems, he didn't know how.
After the upheaval of last year, with testing and changing classes and starting the Challenge pull-out program, I really thought that we had addressed J's educational challenges, and had him where he would be happy and could grow. But it appears that we will have to make further changes this year.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Trouble
We fully expected a great year as J (7 1/2) started 3rd grade, and Z (5) started kindergarten at our chosen Math & Science Magnet school. We were surprised to discover that most of the kids in J's class were not the same as last year. We'd been led to believe that his classmates would remain fairly constant throughout his elementary career, because they generally kept children of comparable abilities together. Actually, in kindergarten through 2nd grade, they divided the children into classes solely on their academic achievements, a theory I thoroughly condone. I can imagine that, as a teacher, it is far easier to teach a class more matched in their abilities, so I wouldn't have to constantly teach so many different learning levels at once, or spend so much time trying to pull up the slower children, while worrying about keeping the advanced children challenged.
It wasn't until I attended a meeting at the gifted center that I discovered the reason for mixing up the classes. In 2nd grade, the gifted children left their classroom to attend a special class down the hall with the gifted coordinator. The class was one hour long, on Mondays. But in 3rd grade, the gifted children from several schools take a bus to the Challenge Center at another elementary school. They spend most of Tuesday out of their regular classrooms. Since J had 15 gifted kids in his 2nd grade class, that would have deprived his teacher of nearly the entire class every Tuesday. Up until this year, that's exactly what happened, but the other teachers complained, so they mixed up the gifted kids among the rest of their grade.
This has become a problem for J. Last year, he reported being teased and bullied. He said it was never from his own classmates, among whom he was a bit of a celebrity after skipping a grade, but from other 2nd graders. Well, now those same children are mixed up in his regular classroom. He says that one boy keeps poking the scar on his head, which is from the reconstructive surgery done a few months ago to repair a benign birth defect.
For the past two weeks (and we're only 4 weeks into the school year), J has been irritable and snappish. I couldn't get to the bottom of it, despite my probing into how he feels about school. In our last discussion, I asked him if he knew what was bothering him. With pleading in his voice, he answered, "No, I have no idea. Do you know why?"
Apparently his unhappiness has not gone unnoticed by his classroom teacher. She asked for an early parent-teacher conference. Other responsibilities prevented my meeting with her. We have since communicated, and that requires a separate post.
It wasn't until I attended a meeting at the gifted center that I discovered the reason for mixing up the classes. In 2nd grade, the gifted children left their classroom to attend a special class down the hall with the gifted coordinator. The class was one hour long, on Mondays. But in 3rd grade, the gifted children from several schools take a bus to the Challenge Center at another elementary school. They spend most of Tuesday out of their regular classrooms. Since J had 15 gifted kids in his 2nd grade class, that would have deprived his teacher of nearly the entire class every Tuesday. Up until this year, that's exactly what happened, but the other teachers complained, so they mixed up the gifted kids among the rest of their grade.
This has become a problem for J. Last year, he reported being teased and bullied. He said it was never from his own classmates, among whom he was a bit of a celebrity after skipping a grade, but from other 2nd graders. Well, now those same children are mixed up in his regular classroom. He says that one boy keeps poking the scar on his head, which is from the reconstructive surgery done a few months ago to repair a benign birth defect.
For the past two weeks (and we're only 4 weeks into the school year), J has been irritable and snappish. I couldn't get to the bottom of it, despite my probing into how he feels about school. In our last discussion, I asked him if he knew what was bothering him. With pleading in his voice, he answered, "No, I have no idea. Do you know why?"
Apparently his unhappiness has not gone unnoticed by his classroom teacher. She asked for an early parent-teacher conference. Other responsibilities prevented my meeting with her. We have since communicated, and that requires a separate post.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Report card date
We haven't really done much to celebrate report cards until now. It seemed kind of silly to do anything for kindergarten "satisfactory" marks. But since J got such a fantastic report card, with lots of effort and above-grade-level marks, I really wanted to do something for J.
Apparently, rewards aren't uncommon in his school, but unfortunately, they're often rather extravagant.
I want this to be a reward, not some sort of motivator. I'm not about to give him cash or buy him something. But I will take him out on a date!
We went to see Tangled at the cheap theater. I let him choose what snacks we'd get. He chose a huge bag of popcorn, although he almost went for nachos. Then we stopped by McDonald's for an ice cream cone and talked.
He seemed to enjoy our evening out, especially staying up late. And he enjoyed the one-on-one talking.
I congratulated him on a great report card, and told him I was proud of him for doing his best. He said he felt like he was just doing "regular." I can relate to that! I always seem to set my gauge of normalcy by what comes natural to me. But as I see more and more of the world and what some people choose to do with their lives, I realize that when my gauge is pointing to "normal," it's actually reading well above average.
I think this attitude will serve him well. Putting in effort is just "regular" to him. Acing his "cold" spelling tests is just "regular" to him. Being a grade ahead is just "regular" to him. And that's a great way to be.
Apparently, rewards aren't uncommon in his school, but unfortunately, they're often rather extravagant.
I want this to be a reward, not some sort of motivator. I'm not about to give him cash or buy him something. But I will take him out on a date!
We went to see Tangled at the cheap theater. I let him choose what snacks we'd get. He chose a huge bag of popcorn, although he almost went for nachos. Then we stopped by McDonald's for an ice cream cone and talked.
He seemed to enjoy our evening out, especially staying up late. And he enjoyed the one-on-one talking.
I congratulated him on a great report card, and told him I was proud of him for doing his best. He said he felt like he was just doing "regular." I can relate to that! I always seem to set my gauge of normalcy by what comes natural to me. But as I see more and more of the world and what some people choose to do with their lives, I realize that when my gauge is pointing to "normal," it's actually reading well above average.
I think this attitude will serve him well. Putting in effort is just "regular" to him. Acing his "cold" spelling tests is just "regular" to him. Being a grade ahead is just "regular" to him. And that's a great way to be.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Don't forget Little L!
Little baby L is now 15 months old, and has decided that maybe it would be nice to communicate. He used to look at us like we were obnoxious circus trainers and he was the too-smart monkey we were trying to teach to do tricks. He's recently discovered that it's quite nice to be able to ask for milk and food, and later discovered the joy of telling me that he heard a dog barking and that he saw a bird. It's so fun to see the world opening up to him through signing.
When he was tiny, I would often have a strange deja vu sort of feeling, especially when J was home from school. L looks so much like J did, with his blond hair and bright blue eyes, that I felt like I was simultaneously in the present and time-traveling back 6 years to when J was my only baby. But as L has grown, his facial features and personality have differentiated themselves from his biggest brother's, so that time-spanning sensation has faded. It came back full force the other day, however, when L very thoughtfully made up the same sign for the same word that his big brother had invented 5 years earlier. And how funny that it was for "lotion!"
What really surprised me is how much he understands. On Saturday, while J was racing his Pinewood Derby car, I sat L in a high chair that happened to be in the building. He got bored and tried to climb out, so I buckled him in with the 3-point harness. Half an hour later, he strained to get out again, and I said, mostly for the benefit of the little fan club that had gathered around him, "You wanna get out, don't you? But you're strapped in!" I thought he might sign "out," but he looked at me, then looked down at the harness and began to pull on it, then looked at me again. "Hey, you know what I just said, don't you?!" and he gave me a big smile.
When he was tiny, I would often have a strange deja vu sort of feeling, especially when J was home from school. L looks so much like J did, with his blond hair and bright blue eyes, that I felt like I was simultaneously in the present and time-traveling back 6 years to when J was my only baby. But as L has grown, his facial features and personality have differentiated themselves from his biggest brother's, so that time-spanning sensation has faded. It came back full force the other day, however, when L very thoughtfully made up the same sign for the same word that his big brother had invented 5 years earlier. And how funny that it was for "lotion!"
What really surprised me is how much he understands. On Saturday, while J was racing his Pinewood Derby car, I sat L in a high chair that happened to be in the building. He got bored and tried to climb out, so I buckled him in with the 3-point harness. Half an hour later, he strained to get out again, and I said, mostly for the benefit of the little fan club that had gathered around him, "You wanna get out, don't you? But you're strapped in!" I thought he might sign "out," but he looked at me, then looked down at the harness and began to pull on it, then looked at me again. "Hey, you know what I just said, don't you?!" and he gave me a big smile.
Can we talk about bacteria?
Z (4) surprised me by wanting to accompany J and I on our daily voyage to and from school. For months, he preferred to stay home, glued to The Electric Company or other PBS show. And when he decided to come along, my peace and quiet decided to vanish!
He just talked and talked about anything and everything. I am sure he did it before, but I wasn't used to it anymore. I'd grown accustomed to J's more in-depth questions and interests, but Z jumps from one subject to another.
So I was quite surprised when, as he hurried to the van of his own volition (I used to practically drag him), he asked, "Mom, can we talk about bacteria?"
As we settled into our seats and pulled out of the driveway, I asked him what he wanted to know about bacteria. He got a bit irritated and said, "Mom, you just talk, and I'll just listen." So I started talking. And he listened for a long time. And when I got to the end of my little subtopic, he said, "What else?"
He still hasn't tired of the topic of bacteria, although we've expanded to viruses.
I used to think J and Z were polar opposites, but suddenly Z is asking the same questions, almost verbatim, that J asked 2 years ago. It's so fun to see his curiosity ignite!
There's one thing that is still quite different about these brothers, and that is how extremely, innately social Z is. I don't really know what to do when Z walks up to strangers and says, "I'm 4. And did you know that bacteria can't live in outer space? Unless it's in a jar or something. But bacteria can live all over everything on Earth. Like that table. And there's this one kind that has a long needle and it makes your body make more of it (that was a virus), and...." Really, what do you do? I usually smile and say, "He loves to talk!" to the baffled store employee, who probably wouldn't follow this sudden onslaught of microbiological information even if they could understand his preschooler speech.
I really don't remember this being an issue with J!
2nd Trimester Report Card
Yesterday, J had a church teacher come over and talk to him for a Tiger Cub elective. They were just supposed to get to know each other a little bit. She asked him about school, and he told her that he'd skipped a grade. Then he said that one grade wasn't enough.
He got his report card today, and I think he was right!
He is above grade level for reading and math. As in above second grade level. I suppose we shouldn't be surprised about his reading, since he's long ago passed 6th grade books in his pleasure reading. He didn't really test all that high in math, although we suspected that it was really just a lack of exposure. I'm glad to know that he's "catching up" to his potential in that subject.
He is at grade level for just about everything else, meaning social studies, creative writing, science, etc. But it seems like that is probably an exposure thing, too. If I knew what science topic his class was going to study, I could bump him past grade level easily. Gee whiz, wait until they get to immunology! He and Z are absolutely voracious in their learning about microbes and the immune response. It cracks me up to hear a 4 year old chatting to a lady in Costco about the conditions bacteria need to grow. But I suppose they don't really learn much about immunology for several years.
He got his report card today, and I think he was right!
He is above grade level for reading and math. As in above second grade level. I suppose we shouldn't be surprised about his reading, since he's long ago passed 6th grade books in his pleasure reading. He didn't really test all that high in math, although we suspected that it was really just a lack of exposure. I'm glad to know that he's "catching up" to his potential in that subject.
He is at grade level for just about everything else, meaning social studies, creative writing, science, etc. But it seems like that is probably an exposure thing, too. If I knew what science topic his class was going to study, I could bump him past grade level easily. Gee whiz, wait until they get to immunology! He and Z are absolutely voracious in their learning about microbes and the immune response. It cracks me up to hear a 4 year old chatting to a lady in Costco about the conditions bacteria need to grow. But I suppose they don't really learn much about immunology for several years.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
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