On Tuesday, I shared a few details about the birthday boys, including my favorite gift that Nathan received – a magnetic sight words sentence set. I was uber-proud of him for picking up on the words so quickly, so on Tuesday morning during breakfast when he asked me to play the game with him, I obliged.
And shot some video (note his fave book next to him on the table). 🙂
I couldn’t wait to show his SLP at school!
Normally, we just pass the kids off to the paraprofessionals at the door, but that morning I asked if I could run in for a second to see Mrs. Melanie. She was in the back, talking to the two preschool teachers in the office.
I proudly pulled out my phone and showed them the video above. I eagerly awaited the praise Nathan was sure to receive for his excellent performance. I’m not unrealistic, mind you – I know what The Deal is (and as much as every mom of a special needs kid wants/expects that her child will be The One Who Is Exceptional and Exceeds the Expectations, I know we can’t all have The One…and I’m okay with that). But in my mind, beginning reading before kindergarten is A Really Big Deal.
And briefly, they seemed to think so, too.
But then, in the blink of an eye, there was talk of assessments and kindergarten expectations and individual word recognition and before I knew what hit me I was walking out with a list of sight words to work on that every kindergartener will be expected to know by the end of the first semester in December.
Sigh.
I don’t blame them. They want Nathan to succeed – that’s the reason he’s with them five days a week for six hours at a stretch. Unless he ends up being The One, the day will come when he falls behind his peers academically, and they want him to get as much of a head start as he can now so that maybe – just maybe! – it’ll be enough, at least for awhile.
Every milestone he reaches, then, is something to celebrate, but not for too long, because we have to strike while the iron is hot, lest he fall behind. But what does that mean for his mom?
I’m super, super, super proud of Nathan!!! (and his mama & daddy & sister!). 🙂
~~ Andi, I’ve felt exactly what you shared. It’s like a stab in the heart. — Personally, I had to say (to the principal, and a few others), “Do not use the word, ‘Plateau”. A plateau is a land form, not a child.” My belief is that, as long as there are things to learn, learning will continue. The idea that there is a cap on learning, an end to it, a limit, well, that’s just not true. In honesty, she (the principal) mocked me, often, in those meetings, ‘reminding’ the others to ‘not use the word, plateau’.– Sheesh!!
~~~ CONGRATULATIONS, Nathan!! You are one cute, smart, adorable, precious boy!! — And Happy Birthday, Sweet Boy!!
Thankfully, they don’t go that far! I agree, though, that if I had heard that “P” word I would not have been happy. 🙂
Regardless of what they said at his school, you should be very proud of his accomplishments! Be thrilled that he is even interested in reading. My daughter was reading short chapter books in preschool(taught herself to read), but my son had very little interest in books and reading. It’s awesome that Nathan is interested and willing to learn!
I hope it doesn’t seem like they were negative – they weren’t at all! It’s more like they went directly from, “Hey that’s great!” to “Now that we know he can do this let’s work on this!” when I just wanted to bask in his achievements a *wee* bit longer. 🙂
On the flip side of things, if you are “the one”, the pressure is on. Your small wins (getting an A) don’t feel like wins because everyone expects you to achieve something big (getting straight As). It’s not easy being the high performer.
I know that feeling well – high school class valedictorian. 🙂
Andi, I have missed you so! I have fallen off your wagon ride for a long time, been out of touch with reading your blog, because my life has gotten so…insane. I’ve been busy. I had a third child and she has PKU like her big brother, so I have been super busy. It is amazing, and wonderfully warming to my heart, to visit your blog again and find that I still can relate to you and the feelings you share. This post is similar to how I feel about my Carson (who has autism). He has been in kindergarten this year, and done amazing well the second semester after a rough adjustment in the first. He is extremely intelligent and has picked up reading so well, and then I got his report card yesterday. Good grades, but not perfect, and along with the report card were the IEP goals with progress report. And that report still said some progress being made…and it just reminded me that everything is still a struggle. I rock along feeling all normal, and then I get slapped in the face with a reminder that everything is not “normal”. We still need to work hard to achieve these goals. And the fear hit me, what if we don’t master them? What do we do then? All that beautiful progress, achievement, success, gets clouded by the question of what comes next, the fear of the unknown. I am right there with you. Thanks for sharing!
I have not a single thing to say in reply, because you said it all so well! Welcome back!