Kindergarten!

It was a hard decision, whether to send Henry to kindergarten this year.  We debated for months about whether he was ready.  Whether he could benefit from one more year home.  Whether he would be too physically little for other kindergartners.  Whether he was too physically rough for other kindergartners. Whether he would be ready to sit still and behave as expected.  

Henry's preschool teacher suggested that he might benefit from one more year at preschool.  She said his attention span wasn't quite as long as the other children.  And he certainly didn't know his alphabet.  I wasn't too worried about that.  

With my first child, I pushed and pushed for her to know her alphabet, colors, numbers, etc., so she would look really smart when she started kindergarten.  And she was smart.  She read far above her level.  

My second child, Morgan, refused to learn her alphabet.  I tried to teach her, but she just stubbornly didn't want to learn.   When she went for her kindergarten evaluation, Morgan was picked out as possibly being a slow learner.  Boy was her teacher surprised when she shot ahead of the other kids and was reading on a second grade level by the end.  Once she decided she wanted to learn, she shot ahead.  

Part of that was just that she decided she wanted to learn.  Part was excellent teachers.  And a huge part was our regular use of this book:  

I can't recommend this book strongly enough.

We have always had a tradition of reading together at night.  Each small child in our family cuddles with me at night while we read, sometimes 45 minutes to an hour.  When they are interested, we work through this book.    

Morgan taught me a lot that kindergarten year.  She taught me about how much more kids learn when they are self-motivated rather than mom-motivated.  She taught me that she had her own time table, and that she would read when she wanted to.  I learned the great one liner:  "No problem."

When Jackie came along, though she did learn somewhat in preschool, I didn't try to teach her the alphabet.  I just enjoyed learning with her.  We visited museums, played in parks, read non-fiction--if it interested us.  She also went to school not knowing her alphabet well and learned quickly once she decided that was what she wanted. 

So here was Henry.  We agonized over whether to send him, and finally decided to give it a try.  

Henry was my first child to cry over going to school.  The morning of the kindergarten evaluation, we walked in with him already tearing up and hanging on my arm.   We were late because I had to coax him to the car.   I have always been good at just leaving my children and letting them learn to deal with being away from me, but this was the first time I felt torn.  Maybe because he is my last child.  

We filled out a few papers, and I sat and held him while he cried, and then the two teachers in the room with me encouraged me to leave, which I obediently did.  I noticed that one teacher, like a bouncer, escorted me out to the school lobby and kept me busy talking so that I wouldn't go back to check on him.  After a while, I could still hear his wails down the hall, and I decided to leave.  

I have worked enough with kids to know that they will stop crying, and usually faster if you at least act confident.  But Henry was pretty strong willed.  I got a phone call a couple hours later saying that he had only cried for 45 minutes.  !!45 minutes!!  That's a long time for a kindergartner if you ask me.  But I was glad he stopped, and I knew he would be fine. 

Henry had insisted that he didn't want to go on the bus.  As I sat filling out forms in the kindergarten room, I had to decide whether he was a car rider or a bus rider.  At the prodding of the teachers, I decided to make him go on the bus, as that was what I wanted to be the final result.  I imagined the teachers having to force him onto the bus and into a seat.  And I imagined him crying and trying to get off.  What a mess it was in my imagination. 

But when I met the bus that day, there came Henry down the steps, smiling ear to ear off the bus.  

"Henry, how was kindergarten?" I asked.

"Great, Mom,"  he exclaimed enthusiastically. 

"Henry, did you like the bus?"   

"Mom, I want to ride the bus tomorrow!"

So here we are a month later.  Any of you who might have been following my blog might understand why I was worried that he might get in trouble at school.   Henry has in the past, quite frankly, done some pretty crazy things at home.  But I guess that's over for now.  His teacher caught me at the open house, and said that he's the best kid in school, that she uses him as an example for the other kids.  My Henry?  What a surprise was that.  

Henry loves school.  He's thriving there.  And I'm glad I sent him.  

Kindergarten rocks.