Grade 3

I've not been on the computer much lately.  Posting may be spotty over the next few months.  But since I'm up early with the kids this morning, I have a bit of time before the day starts.

So, school's started.  For Will, that means Grade 3.  Grade THREE.  I remember quite a bit from grade 3.  Do you?  I do.  And now, here is my son in his last year of primary.

In an attempt to make this year go a little smoother than last year (hoping that we can avoid some of the side effects like facial ticks and withdrawal), I made an effort to meet with his teacher before school started last week.  It was a bit of a pain to get ahold of her and I felt like a real obnoxious parent, but I felt it was necessary.  I've sat back the last few years, assuming that the teacher knows what's best for my kids and will do what they need to do, but those assumptions did not work out for us.  So this year, I was proactive.

The teacher graciously met with me and we talked for an hour.  I walked in there with all my notes and tried to explain my son as best I could.  I'm not asking for special treatment, but he does need special considerations.  She knows him a bit from years previous and she was prepared for what I had to say.  She was open.  And she had some fantastic ideas.  And I think it may be possible that she gets my son.

It also helps that there are only 15 kids in his class this year and that she has a TA, or EA depending on where you're from.  Willem's comment when I told him there was an assistant in his class?  It's not for me, is it?

No hun.  Not for you.

Phew!

Poor kid.  He gets that he's different.

I made it clear to her that I don't want his IPP's (ILP in other places?) to only focus on the negative, as they have in the past.  I warned her what would happen if he wasn't challenged in the way he needed to be.  I passed on some information that might help with him and offered to be available and do what she needs to make sure my son get proper enrichment.  I showed her some of his work from last year.  When we were done, she thanked me for coming in.

She thanked me???  I wanted to hug her just for being open to hearing what I had to say, and she thanked me.

The first week of school went smoothly.  This might just be a good year.

It's a nice thing, when your kid's teacher comes up to you in the hallway, excited about something you child has done.  Like on Wednesday when he'd been doing a math worksheet.  You know the ones where the sums equal a letter and then you figure out a phrase from those?  Ya, those ones.  When he was done, she offered him a couple things to do while the rest of the class was finishing.  When he didn't bite ('cuz I'm assuming they all sounded like extra work to him), she suggested he make up his own math sheet and phrase.  Which he did in a matter of minutes.  The phrase?  "You are a great teacher".

And he's right, she is.  She took the school work deeper for him, which is all that he needs.  Okay, good.  you understand adding?  Perfect.  Now show me in a different way that you enjoy.

She even made a photocopy for herself, to keep, she was than impressed with it.  And I'm so impressed with her.

You see?  Don't put a box around my son and you may be surprised with where he can fly.