There are so many times when I tell Morgan something and have no idea whether she heard me. Sometimes I don't know if she fully understood what I said and sometimes I actually don't know if she was even listening. Ever since she has started school, I find that I am wondering about the former much more than the latter. We have such deep conversations at night that sometimes blow me away. Every night since school began, she seems to be on the verge of bursting with ideas, information, and questions when we lay down at night. She waits for the answers and even seems eager to hear stuff that she would have previously not seemed to give a crap about.
Two nights ago we were having our bedtime discussion and for some reason I don't remember, I began talking about breathing. I pointed out that she could help her body feel better in many situations. I asked her if she had ever felt her heart racing because she was scared, nervous, or mad. She said," yes," and I told her how she could slow her heart down and make her body feel better whenever that happened. We talked about breathing in and out through your nose and how that slows the heart rate and helps the body to calm. We talked about how breathing through your mouth does just the opposite and triggers the body's "flight or fight response." I told her that just focusing on your breath alone helps to calm you and helps you to remember and feel how perfect you are. We practiced breathing for awhile and watched our bellies rise and chests expand as air filled our bodies and watched how they fell as air left. She was ready for me to do the "relaxing thing" when we were finished with that. (Each night I begin with her toes and talk her through each body part thanking each part for what it did that day and feeling it get heavy before it falls asleep. This process = "the relaxing thing.") She fell asleep and I held her as I thought about how amazing she is.
Last night, Morgan brought up our previous discussion on her own. She let me know that she had tried the "breathing thing." She said her heart was beating fast when she was running and so she started breathing through her nose to help her heart slow down. She said she actually tried it when she was running and it worked. (Interestingly, I have gone running twice in the last several days and have purposely breathed through my nose the entire way and have found that it definitely does make a big difference.) I marveled at the fact that she was making this knowledge her own at the age of 5. Our conversation ended with the "relaxing thing" and she fell asleep as I thought about how amazing she is.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Friday, August 22, 2008
She chooses school
I was barely aware of the fact that school started on Aug. 11 and the day came and went without a thought about it. We woke up and went about our day as usual. In fact, the next couple of days went about the same. On Wed., mom was going to take the girls to see her father and called me mid morning to discuss what time we were going to meet. During the conversation she happened to mention that Morgan had informed her that she WAS going to school and that she was going to go "the day after tomorrow." Now, this was coming a bit out of left field. Mark and I wanted very much to homeschool her and the last conversation I had had with Morgan about it, we were all in the same boat. Apparently, somewhere along the way, she jumped ship. I immediately got off the phone with my mom in search of Morgan.
I told her what Nina had said and asked what she was thinking about school. She said very concretely, "I REALLY want to go to school." We talked about her reasons...wanting to be with other kids all day, wanting to ride the bus, wanting to learn to read, etc. She had her reasons. She was determined and absolutely unwavering in her decision. The look on her face sent me to the shower to get ready to pay the school a visit.
My dear cousin, Rory (bless her), immediately came over to stay with Audrey while we were out. My heart thumped loud enough that I swore Morgan could hear it in the back seat. My stomach turned and I did my best to smile as we walked through those front doors to sign in with the woman at the table. She greeted us with a smile and spoke to Morgan with a voice that suggested she was an toddler. I tried my best to get past that and explained our situation. A folder of paper work was handed to me to fill out with the explanation that she could start the day after we completed it. Morgan reached for my hand as we got ready to take a tour with the woman that didn't quite understand that Morgan was not a baby. We looked in the classrooms...PE, science lab, Spanish, media center, and finally the kindergarten hall. We followed a class down the hall for Morgan to see how that would go. At one point, our tour guide pointed out the playground and informed me they got to go outside everyday! For 20 minutes! My unenthusiastic, "oh" must have clearly stated that I didn't feel this was as fabulous as she did. She said, "Is that going to be a problem for her?" I said, "Well it is a problem for me." They are 5 years old, they need to run and jump and PLAY. I was informed that the school was very hands on and they definitely didn't sit all day, but got up and moved around a lot. Her car salesmanlike tour left me with a sour taste in my mouth, but lit a fire under Morgan like I have never seen. It was like Christmas morning. The excitement on her face and joy that was oozing from her body was impossible to miss. She begged for me to fill out the paperwork and was ready to start immediately.
After talking to Mark (another story entirely), I began the necessary steps to enroll our oldest child in Kindergarten. We gave the school another visit, turned in the paperwork, met the principal, was assigned a teacher, and was ready to begin class on Friday. I read the 5 pages of school rules to her so that she knew somewhat what to expect in terms of the loss of freedom she was about to experience. After each rule, she said, "I won't do that." At the end of the rules there was a list of consequences and I could see the first sign of concern cross her face. I explained what a time out was and talked a little about how these things listed were not like anything that we do at home. I hope to the bottom of my heart that I was clear and that she understood that Mark and I will never be angry about what happens at school. I told her that she may run into problems sometime with a teacher or maybe another student. I told her that in that case we will do what we have done with her since she was a baby...try and figure out what happened, what she was feeling, and how best to manage the situation. I almost begged her not to ever feel scared of having the school call her parents. I explained grades and how they may mark things right/wrong on her work and how I don't care about that either. I want her to enjoy learning. To love learning. And to learn. Learning is something that happens without being taught. Sometimes you get things right; sometimes you get things wrong. That doesn't say anything about what you know...Ok, I am getting off track a bit...Whatever I said seemed to wipe the concern from her eyes, and the excitement returned. She was starting school the next day.
5:30 Friday morning. "Can I go to school now?" She was ready. There was no talking her into letting me drive her. She was taking the bus. She never even asked about how she would know where to go or what to do. The bus doors opened and she got on without looking back. She was going to school. She was in charge of herself and in charge of her learning. As my heart sank, it soared. As my fears threaten to tear me down, the belief in my daughter is what keeps me going. I realize that no matter what my fears are, they are just that, mine. I will hold my stuff as my own and let her go. The truth she lives will be hers.
I told her what Nina had said and asked what she was thinking about school. She said very concretely, "I REALLY want to go to school." We talked about her reasons...wanting to be with other kids all day, wanting to ride the bus, wanting to learn to read, etc. She had her reasons. She was determined and absolutely unwavering in her decision. The look on her face sent me to the shower to get ready to pay the school a visit.
My dear cousin, Rory (bless her), immediately came over to stay with Audrey while we were out. My heart thumped loud enough that I swore Morgan could hear it in the back seat. My stomach turned and I did my best to smile as we walked through those front doors to sign in with the woman at the table. She greeted us with a smile and spoke to Morgan with a voice that suggested she was an toddler. I tried my best to get past that and explained our situation. A folder of paper work was handed to me to fill out with the explanation that she could start the day after we completed it. Morgan reached for my hand as we got ready to take a tour with the woman that didn't quite understand that Morgan was not a baby. We looked in the classrooms...PE, science lab, Spanish, media center, and finally the kindergarten hall. We followed a class down the hall for Morgan to see how that would go. At one point, our tour guide pointed out the playground and informed me they got to go outside everyday! For 20 minutes! My unenthusiastic, "oh" must have clearly stated that I didn't feel this was as fabulous as she did. She said, "Is that going to be a problem for her?" I said, "Well it is a problem for me." They are 5 years old, they need to run and jump and PLAY. I was informed that the school was very hands on and they definitely didn't sit all day, but got up and moved around a lot. Her car salesmanlike tour left me with a sour taste in my mouth, but lit a fire under Morgan like I have never seen. It was like Christmas morning. The excitement on her face and joy that was oozing from her body was impossible to miss. She begged for me to fill out the paperwork and was ready to start immediately.
After talking to Mark (another story entirely), I began the necessary steps to enroll our oldest child in Kindergarten. We gave the school another visit, turned in the paperwork, met the principal, was assigned a teacher, and was ready to begin class on Friday. I read the 5 pages of school rules to her so that she knew somewhat what to expect in terms of the loss of freedom she was about to experience. After each rule, she said, "I won't do that." At the end of the rules there was a list of consequences and I could see the first sign of concern cross her face. I explained what a time out was and talked a little about how these things listed were not like anything that we do at home. I hope to the bottom of my heart that I was clear and that she understood that Mark and I will never be angry about what happens at school. I told her that she may run into problems sometime with a teacher or maybe another student. I told her that in that case we will do what we have done with her since she was a baby...try and figure out what happened, what she was feeling, and how best to manage the situation. I almost begged her not to ever feel scared of having the school call her parents. I explained grades and how they may mark things right/wrong on her work and how I don't care about that either. I want her to enjoy learning. To love learning. And to learn. Learning is something that happens without being taught. Sometimes you get things right; sometimes you get things wrong. That doesn't say anything about what you know...Ok, I am getting off track a bit...Whatever I said seemed to wipe the concern from her eyes, and the excitement returned. She was starting school the next day.
5:30 Friday morning. "Can I go to school now?" She was ready. There was no talking her into letting me drive her. She was taking the bus. She never even asked about how she would know where to go or what to do. The bus doors opened and she got on without looking back. She was going to school. She was in charge of herself and in charge of her learning. As my heart sank, it soared. As my fears threaten to tear me down, the belief in my daughter is what keeps me going. I realize that no matter what my fears are, they are just that, mine. I will hold my stuff as my own and let her go. The truth she lives will be hers.
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