Today is my son’s fifth birthday. We did some celebrating at home and at school but tomorrow is when we’ll celebrate with friends at his birthday party here at the house. He was excited when we woke up and the first thing we did was to measure how tall he was by marking a line on the wall in the little play room beside their beds. He grew about as much this past year as he did the year before. His sister is a little taller than he was at four, we’ll see if she outgrows him by five.
My son was looking forward to the celebration in his class this morning. By tradition, the family of the birthday child brings a snack and some pictures with a story to tell about each year of the child’s life. My son wanted to bring his favorite apples, Honey Crisp, to share with the class. We went and got several bags of the small version of the apples, put them in a large basket and took them to school this morning.
My son asked if his sister could come join in his birthday celebration. The teachers said that would be fine and to come into her classroom when we arrived to bring her over to join with his class. My husband went into my son’s class with our basket of apples while I went to get his sister. She was at a desk doing some cutting work.
As I approached her, the teacher came over and told me the substitute teacher (one of the mothers and a friend of mine) had been a bit alarmed to watch my daughter cut the paper. The work she was doing involves an inch wide strip of paper with lines marked along about every centimeter. You job is to cut on those lines, turning the strip of paper into a lot of one inch by one centimeter rectangles. My daughter loves cutting work.
In Montessori schools the scissors they use are not safety scissors. They’re sharp and they’re pointy. In order for my daughter to do this work she has to have the paper and the scissors about an inch from her eye. It looks frightening, but she does it very well. The teacher told the mother it was okay, but I am grateful she was looking out for her as in any other situation, I would be alarmed too.
The Big Boy Update: My son was very happy today. He got calls from family members wishing him a happy birthday and he loved talking to every one of them. He opened presents and has been gracious and kind to everyone all day. Five seems to suit him.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter asked me four times, “when is it going to be my lemons day?” before I understood what she meant. On Fridays, the nap linens (not lemons) are sent home to be washed. She wanted to know how much longer it would be until it was the weekend.
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