It's Thursday, Day 3 of Sammi going back to school and entering the unknown wilds of 2nd grade.
Wow, 2nd grade... I have (mostly) good memories of 2nd grade, specifically some of the arts & crafts projects I made in class (one of which graces our living room every Christmas), the accelerated reading group I was in with two other people, and the two detentions I got for talking too much when nobody was supposed to be talking. Whoops... Ohhhhh, my parents were mad. (And, just for the record, I received detention once for not following directions, but it honestly was not my fault. I remember it clearly!) I was informed recently by an old friend that he and I used to frequently get in trouble for talking too much, and the teacher, Mrs. Pio, made us sit in the hallway outside the classroom, where, as he put it, we made out.
Now, in all honesty, I seriously have no memory of this. (Repressed, perhaps?) But it certainly secretly pleases me to know that my first kiss was not, in fact, all the way in 6th grade when I played spin-the-bottle at a birthday party with a cute, popular boy from another school. But kissing in the hall in 2nd grade does seem a little young...
Now, back to Sammi's new school year...
Somehow I truly cannot see any of that happening for her. She's a good reader, but needs to work on comprehension. Arts and Crafts? She's definitely not an artist, and is not really all that into art, either. I'd like to see her broaden her horizons, however, beyond the occasional stick figure and house with a tree out front (and, just for the record, we no longer have a tree out front, so I'll be interested in seeing if she changes that particular image up at all). And making out??? Well...I think nothing needs to be said about that, although I'd love to see boys pay attention to her at some point. Gotta give Daddy something to do, fending them off with a stick or something...
Quick recap of the first 3 days -
Day 1, she refused to even go into the classroom. I left her in the capable hands of her aide, since my presence would likely not be helpful in the least. Eventually, she had to be pretty much forcibly put into the classroom, where she sat, sullen and non-responsive for most of the day, except at recess, where she saw one of her friends, who's in another classroom, and played with him the whole time.
Day 2, we were met in the front entrance hall by her aide, who walked her down to class herself. Her sitter picked her up from school while I was at work, and called me to tell me that all reports were that she'd had a much better day.
Day 3, this morning, I walked her to school, walked her to the classroom (which she'll be able to do herself starting next week), and she marched right in, removed her backpack, and began to hang it up on the peg before I realized she was going to go about her day without giving me a goodbye kiss, which I remedied immediately. Her aide had not yet entered the classroom, but I felt pretty confident that Sammi knows what to do and would do it, so I left.
I suspect today will be the best of three. I'm thrilled to know she's settling in well! I have a meeting with her new Resource Teacher tomorrow morning, and am looking forward to meeting him formally, giving him some background, and making a request for a 1:1 aide for Sammi (Mr. C., if you're reading this, here's your heads up...). She does fine in class, but she's not learning as much as she could with more 1:1 assistance. There are too many other kids in the class with IEPs that need the assistance of the aide currently, and that assistance is spread thin. I figure it can't hurt to ask and see what channels we need to go through to attempt to make that happen.
Next week I'll be starting a 3-part series on Sammi's irrational fears. Intrigued? Then stay tuned!
Update: Sammi did *not* have a very good day on Day 3, as her aide was out sick. After a long talk with the Resource Teacher about how big 2nd graders should behave and how proud she can make her mommy and daddy by behaving, she did *much* better, talking repeatedly about making mommy proud.