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My oldest, Henry, is in first grade, while Ivy, 21 months his junior, is in kindergarten this year. They are so close in age and in school that Ivy sometimes doesn’t really understand why she can’t do some of the things that Henry does.
While Henry has a hard time staying interested in what he’s learning in school (or supposed to be doing), Ivy soaks it up and lives to please her teacher. She practices counting to 100 in the car, she asks us how to spell words that she wants to write.
We had Parent Teacher Conferences last night, and both kids, though they are completely opposite in the way that they see and handle school, got pretty glowing reviews. I mentioned to Ivy’s teacher that she had been sad the day before about not being able to read like her brother and we talked about how she IS reading, just particular words that they’ve learned, like MOM and POP.
Now, I’m in charge of the daily homework supervision and getting everything ready for school. But T. will get the notion, every once in a while, to teach them something big. He taught Henry to read, and Ivy to tie her shoes. He reminds me of my dad in that way. I clearly remember my dad teaching me to tie my shoes on a day off from kindergarten.
After the conferences, we got home and T. sat down with Ivy, encouraging her to sound out the words in a book she chose, and showing her that yes, she can read, and that with practice, she’ll be doing it all by herself.
She was so proud of herself and my heart was a big, sloppy puddle on the floor.
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