Interesting meeting with Ms. Burke, Rachel's freakishly young teacher with a tattoo on her finger and black nail polish. This is her 2nd year of teaching, but she seems bright and enthusiastic and has attended some gifted-children seminars, so she has some ideas for teaching that we think will benefit Rachel. She has picked up on the fact that Rachel is a very advanced reader, so she's putting together an advanced reading group that will do more discussing the texts -- kind of like a book club, she said -- instead of teaching them to read.
They do a test every year called PALS (Phonological Awareness Literacy Screening) that tests spelling ability, word recognition, letter sounds, and oral reading in context, which tests word recognition, fluency and comprehension.
Benchmark is 20; the highest score is 48; Rachel got a 48. She recognized all the words from the first-, second-, third- and fourth-grade word lists; 16 out of 20 words from the fifth-grade word list and 18 words from the sixth-grade list (and 10, or half, from the seventh-grade word list). She reads 123 words per minute. She is at a sixth-grade level in accuracy, fluency and comprehension.
The benchmark "summed score" is 35; the highest is 68. Rachel got 68.
We are very proud.
She also got 80 percent of her math problems correct on a timed math test they gave her, and Ms. Burke thinks that's because Rachel ran out of time. She also took a test a few weeks ago that, although they didn't say this, Drew thinks it is one of the tests they use to determine whether Rachel is eligible for gifted services. Rachel reported that she didn't think it was very hard, and there was only one answer she wasn't sure of. We should get the results in a few weeks.
Saturday, October 10, 2015
Activity-filled Saturday
Another glorious day -- fall in D.C. is something else. All of us got up early and out of the house to volunteer for a cleanup of our neighborhood park (the one we walk to that is five minutes away). It's owned by the community, not the county, and both Drew and I signed up to prepare it for winter -- weeding, mulching, raking leaves and bagging them. We got there around 10 and people seemed very glad to see us. Drew set about raking leaves and I began weeding and then spread mulch. Rachel was a champ -- she started raking leaves with a rake twice her size, then helped the volunteers with the wheelbarrows of mulch, wheeling the wheelbarrows when they were empty and grabbing a handle when one was full.
We were there for about 90 minutes, then I headed home to shower and head to a housewarming for my work colleague, Matt, whose townhouse burned down last year. He lost almost everything he owns, but he -- at 57 -- is looking at this as a means of starting anew. He's divorced and one of his two twenty something daughters lives with him. He got to choose colors, finishes, fixtures, etc. for his new place, and it looks terrific; he has very good taste in wall colors and furniture (even if the giant-screen TV and three-section reclining couch scream "Bachelor's Pad!").
It took me 90 minutes to drive there -- he lives in Maryland -- after getting lost a few times, and coming back I had a long wait for a toll both (ugh, need to get an EZ-Pass), and got to Great Falls just in time to meet Drew and Rachel and the rest of our synagogue for a hayride, campfire, hot dogs, s'mores, pumpkin-patch visiting, and a lovely havdalah ceremony to close out Shabbat, with one of the rabbis playing songs on his guitar and the havdalah candle lighting the night while I sat in front of one of the campfires. I was perfectly warm and content, and it was a lovely way of finishing up the weekend, since I do go back to work Sunday.
We were there for about 90 minutes, then I headed home to shower and head to a housewarming for my work colleague, Matt, whose townhouse burned down last year. He lost almost everything he owns, but he -- at 57 -- is looking at this as a means of starting anew. He's divorced and one of his two twenty something daughters lives with him. He got to choose colors, finishes, fixtures, etc. for his new place, and it looks terrific; he has very good taste in wall colors and furniture (even if the giant-screen TV and three-section reclining couch scream "Bachelor's Pad!").
It took me 90 minutes to drive there -- he lives in Maryland -- after getting lost a few times, and coming back I had a long wait for a toll both (ugh, need to get an EZ-Pass), and got to Great Falls just in time to meet Drew and Rachel and the rest of our synagogue for a hayride, campfire, hot dogs, s'mores, pumpkin-patch visiting, and a lovely havdalah ceremony to close out Shabbat, with one of the rabbis playing songs on his guitar and the havdalah candle lighting the night while I sat in front of one of the campfires. I was perfectly warm and content, and it was a lovely way of finishing up the weekend, since I do go back to work Sunday.
A leisurely Friday afternoon
Rachel and I had a wonderful Friday together, after a hard week at work -- I worked six days straight, had to deal with allergies and all-around leftover crumminess from the bronchitis, so I ended up not walking her to school a couple of days. I was determined to make that up to her.
So, after parent-teacher conferences on Friday (more on that later), Drew went to work and I picked up Rachel from the school library. She whined a little about going on a bike ride -- she would much rather have spent the day reading, but it was going to be rainy and I was dying to get out and exercise, and I wanted to give her more practice on her bike.
When I was firm about leaving, Rachel did the most extraordinary thing: She announced that SHE WAS GOING TO MAKE US LUNCH TO BRING WITH US "so you won't have take your wallet." When I pointed out that the jelly was on the side of the refrigerator, she looked a little chagrined but then set right to making herself a sandwich, packing us each a granola bar and some milano cookies. I grabbed half of a roast-beef sandwich I had bought on Thursday, and we headed out. Her resourcefulness so impressed me.
On our way out the door, we ran into Ivy, Liam and their babysitter, Lindsey, and agreed to meet them back at their house at 2 to walk to Toby's to get ice cream. It was the most beautiful day -- low 70s, warm, shorts-and-T-shirt weather. So we headed towards Alexandria (I was half-hoping she'd agree to ride all the way there), stopped at a playground pretty far along the way, and I pretended to be a monster while I chased her around, which felt so good to do after all my foot problems. Then we hopped on our bikes and almost got as far as Shirlington when I told her we needed to turn back; it had started drizzling, but lightly.
On the way back we were very hot and tired, and she said, "Mommy, do you think I deserve a milkshake?" "We've exercised a lot today, sweetie," I said. "But do you think I deserve a milkshake even if we hadn't exercised?" she said. "I think we BOTH deserve ice cream," I answered, and that seemed to satisfy her.
We got back at 1:30 and met Ivy, Liam and Lindsey and walked to Toby's -- it's about a half-mile from our house. I estimate that we probably biked about 6 miles total, which seemed to impress Lindsey. Rachel had a milkshake that was a combination of pumpkin spice ice cream and chocolate (meh) and I had a scoop of peanut butter cup with hot fudge. Then we walked back, Rachel went to Ivy's for a playdate and I started making challah and matzo-ball soup, and then collapsed on the couch for an hour because I was exhausted. A bit later Ivy's mom walked Rachel back, and she insisted on braiding the challah (and doing a darn good job of it, too) and then set the table. We had a lovely Shabbat dinner, and then Drew went to the gym while I cleaned the house a bit and sorted through some mail.
Really, it was a most excellent day. I was so relaxed, and I realized it was because I got to spend uninterrupted time with my daughter.
So, after parent-teacher conferences on Friday (more on that later), Drew went to work and I picked up Rachel from the school library. She whined a little about going on a bike ride -- she would much rather have spent the day reading, but it was going to be rainy and I was dying to get out and exercise, and I wanted to give her more practice on her bike.
When I was firm about leaving, Rachel did the most extraordinary thing: She announced that SHE WAS GOING TO MAKE US LUNCH TO BRING WITH US "so you won't have take your wallet." When I pointed out that the jelly was on the side of the refrigerator, she looked a little chagrined but then set right to making herself a sandwich, packing us each a granola bar and some milano cookies. I grabbed half of a roast-beef sandwich I had bought on Thursday, and we headed out. Her resourcefulness so impressed me.
On our way out the door, we ran into Ivy, Liam and their babysitter, Lindsey, and agreed to meet them back at their house at 2 to walk to Toby's to get ice cream. It was the most beautiful day -- low 70s, warm, shorts-and-T-shirt weather. So we headed towards Alexandria (I was half-hoping she'd agree to ride all the way there), stopped at a playground pretty far along the way, and I pretended to be a monster while I chased her around, which felt so good to do after all my foot problems. Then we hopped on our bikes and almost got as far as Shirlington when I told her we needed to turn back; it had started drizzling, but lightly.
On the way back we were very hot and tired, and she said, "Mommy, do you think I deserve a milkshake?" "We've exercised a lot today, sweetie," I said. "But do you think I deserve a milkshake even if we hadn't exercised?" she said. "I think we BOTH deserve ice cream," I answered, and that seemed to satisfy her.
We got back at 1:30 and met Ivy, Liam and Lindsey and walked to Toby's -- it's about a half-mile from our house. I estimate that we probably biked about 6 miles total, which seemed to impress Lindsey. Rachel had a milkshake that was a combination of pumpkin spice ice cream and chocolate (meh) and I had a scoop of peanut butter cup with hot fudge. Then we walked back, Rachel went to Ivy's for a playdate and I started making challah and matzo-ball soup, and then collapsed on the couch for an hour because I was exhausted. A bit later Ivy's mom walked Rachel back, and she insisted on braiding the challah (and doing a darn good job of it, too) and then set the table. We had a lovely Shabbat dinner, and then Drew went to the gym while I cleaned the house a bit and sorted through some mail.
Really, it was a most excellent day. I was so relaxed, and I realized it was because I got to spend uninterrupted time with my daughter.
Friday, October 2, 2015
Mystery reader
For the third year, Rachel's class has "mystery readers" every Friday -- parents who come in and read for 15 minutes to the kids. Her teacher this year, Ms. Burke, has the parents give five clues that she shares with the students all week, one a day, so they can guess who will be coming on Friday.
I signed up to be the first mystery reader of the year. My clues were:
--My favorite thing to do in the summer is swim outside
--My favorite thing to do in the winter is read by a fire
--My favorite place is in the kitchen
--I drive a car the color of night
--I work with words for a living
I warned Ms. Burke that Rachel is very hard to keep secrets from and that she'd probably figure it out...and she almost did! She tried to trick me on Thursday morning as I staggered out of bed, half asleep, asking me if my favorite place was in the kitchen, etc. I said I was too tired to answer and went back to bed.
Then this morning, she said, "Uh, mom? Um...we have a mystery reader..."
"Oh," I said. "Are they still doing that in third grade?"
Her little face just fell, and her eyes teared up. "SECOND grade," she said, then went off, very unhappy, to wash and brush. I hated to do that to her, but I wanted it to be a SURPRISE (Drew said she told him last night at dinner that she pretty much had figured out it was me).
When I got to the class with an armload of books, Rachel jumped up, raced over to me and gave me a gigantic hug. She looked so happy to see me! I had picked out some cool books, one of which made the kids laugh a lot and another that was a little old for them, but as I told the kids (and, later, Ms. Burke), they're all smart kids so I thought they'd get a lot out of the books. And they did! It was the first time I've ever made a class of Rachel's laugh.
The kids also got to ask me questions based on the clues. A couple of them thought it was going to be their parent coming in. One kid asked what kind of car I drove, another asked what pool I swam at. They really seem like a nice group.
And then I collected Rachel and she insisted on stopping at the library. "Five minutes," she promised, but then she found a book about Cleopatra and gave it to me while she read the book she'd checked out, and I became engrossed in the Cleopatra book...and I looked up and all of a sudden it was 5 and we had to go home so I could make the roast chicken and potatoes I had bought for guests who were supposed to show up but decided to stay closer to Annapolis because of the driving rain. We hope to meet them for brunch Sunday.
I signed up to be the first mystery reader of the year. My clues were:
--My favorite thing to do in the summer is swim outside
--My favorite thing to do in the winter is read by a fire
--My favorite place is in the kitchen
--I drive a car the color of night
--I work with words for a living
I warned Ms. Burke that Rachel is very hard to keep secrets from and that she'd probably figure it out...and she almost did! She tried to trick me on Thursday morning as I staggered out of bed, half asleep, asking me if my favorite place was in the kitchen, etc. I said I was too tired to answer and went back to bed.
Then this morning, she said, "Uh, mom? Um...we have a mystery reader..."
"Oh," I said. "Are they still doing that in third grade?"
Her little face just fell, and her eyes teared up. "SECOND grade," she said, then went off, very unhappy, to wash and brush. I hated to do that to her, but I wanted it to be a SURPRISE (Drew said she told him last night at dinner that she pretty much had figured out it was me).
When I got to the class with an armload of books, Rachel jumped up, raced over to me and gave me a gigantic hug. She looked so happy to see me! I had picked out some cool books, one of which made the kids laugh a lot and another that was a little old for them, but as I told the kids (and, later, Ms. Burke), they're all smart kids so I thought they'd get a lot out of the books. And they did! It was the first time I've ever made a class of Rachel's laugh.
The kids also got to ask me questions based on the clues. A couple of them thought it was going to be their parent coming in. One kid asked what kind of car I drove, another asked what pool I swam at. They really seem like a nice group.
And then I collected Rachel and she insisted on stopping at the library. "Five minutes," she promised, but then she found a book about Cleopatra and gave it to me while she read the book she'd checked out, and I became engrossed in the Cleopatra book...and I looked up and all of a sudden it was 5 and we had to go home so I could make the roast chicken and potatoes I had bought for guests who were supposed to show up but decided to stay closer to Annapolis because of the driving rain. We hope to meet them for brunch Sunday.
Yom Kippur
Last week was Yom Kippur, and I was determined to take Rachel to at least one service, although since she's not fasting, I decided to keep her in school.
I was determined to fast, but the day before Yom Kippur eve I dragged myself to the doctor. She diagnosed weak air passages because of the bronchitis and gave me two inhalers -- one for day/evening and another for relief during the day only. She also told me not to exercise for at least two weeks (and yes, I am really looking forward to resuming exercising next week when this will be over) and when I asked about fasting, she looked at me as if I was crazy (and it was clear she had never heard of the holiday). "Can you at least drink water?" she asked. We both sort of decided that it would be a bad idea for me to go without food, and since I was on medication it made sense for me to eat.
On Yom Kippur morning I had a light breakfast -- I slept in, so didn't go to services -- but attended a discussion group about Israel's reaction to the Iranian nuclear deal. Really fascinating; glad I went. Then on impulse I decided to take Rachel to concluding services so she could hear the shofar again (she loves hearing the sound of the shofar) and once again she was beautifully behaved. We got back home and Drew had made popovers and roast beef, so we had a really nice dinner even though I hadn't fasted.
I'm so glad Rachel is old enough to go to synagogue with me and isn't fidgety. I even gave her some of the mediations to read (in the siddur and in the prayerbook I have that I bought years ago), and she really seemed to get something from them.
I was determined to fast, but the day before Yom Kippur eve I dragged myself to the doctor. She diagnosed weak air passages because of the bronchitis and gave me two inhalers -- one for day/evening and another for relief during the day only. She also told me not to exercise for at least two weeks (and yes, I am really looking forward to resuming exercising next week when this will be over) and when I asked about fasting, she looked at me as if I was crazy (and it was clear she had never heard of the holiday). "Can you at least drink water?" she asked. We both sort of decided that it would be a bad idea for me to go without food, and since I was on medication it made sense for me to eat.
On Yom Kippur morning I had a light breakfast -- I slept in, so didn't go to services -- but attended a discussion group about Israel's reaction to the Iranian nuclear deal. Really fascinating; glad I went. Then on impulse I decided to take Rachel to concluding services so she could hear the shofar again (she loves hearing the sound of the shofar) and once again she was beautifully behaved. We got back home and Drew had made popovers and roast beef, so we had a really nice dinner even though I hadn't fasted.
I'm so glad Rachel is old enough to go to synagogue with me and isn't fidgety. I even gave her some of the mediations to read (in the siddur and in the prayerbook I have that I bought years ago), and she really seemed to get something from them.
Catering
Forgot to write about the catering job I did two weekends ago -- it was an auction item I had donated for the McKinley annual auction. They set the bidding too high, so no one bid, but luckily the woman who bid last year contacted me a few days later and asked if Dan and I would do the pig roast again. Of course! I said. She agreed to cover our food bills and Dan's gas getting up here from South Carolina and donate $500 to the school.
So, on Friday, Sept. 18, I left the house mid-day to do the shopping for the event. Then I got home late in the afternoon and started the process of cooking black beans and sofrito for 18 adults and 21 kids; preparing Cuban bread with butter, parmesan cheese and minced parsley, and marinating several packages of chicken in mojito sauce and cut-up oranges. I was up past 1 a.m. by the time I finished, cleaned up and decompressed.
The next morning I was up at 8, ran out to a New Orleans bakery to buy beignets for Dan (I thought he deserved them, driving up and essentially giving up a lucrative catering gig to work this fundraiser), got back to say goodbye to Drew and Rachel, who left for a Pew Research Center picnic. Then Dan and I spent most of the afternoon preparing the pig at Holly's house (she was the one who bought the auction item) as well as paella in Dan's monster-sized paella pan -- we did shrimp, chicken, sweet peppers and rice, and it was a HIT. Dan loved the black beans and sofrito; when he tried it before we brought it over to Holly's, he pronounced, "I ain't worried about this dinner tonight," which was a big relief.
And it turned out great! Very few people had the bread, which I will remember for next time -- but they loved the paella and the pig. Holly mixed us some cocktails so I was quite relaxed by the time the whole thing was over and I had finished cleaning most of our equipment and lugging everything back to Dan's truck, which left my legs extremely sore the next day. It was totally worth it.
So, on Friday, Sept. 18, I left the house mid-day to do the shopping for the event. Then I got home late in the afternoon and started the process of cooking black beans and sofrito for 18 adults and 21 kids; preparing Cuban bread with butter, parmesan cheese and minced parsley, and marinating several packages of chicken in mojito sauce and cut-up oranges. I was up past 1 a.m. by the time I finished, cleaned up and decompressed.
The next morning I was up at 8, ran out to a New Orleans bakery to buy beignets for Dan (I thought he deserved them, driving up and essentially giving up a lucrative catering gig to work this fundraiser), got back to say goodbye to Drew and Rachel, who left for a Pew Research Center picnic. Then Dan and I spent most of the afternoon preparing the pig at Holly's house (she was the one who bought the auction item) as well as paella in Dan's monster-sized paella pan -- we did shrimp, chicken, sweet peppers and rice, and it was a HIT. Dan loved the black beans and sofrito; when he tried it before we brought it over to Holly's, he pronounced, "I ain't worried about this dinner tonight," which was a big relief.
And it turned out great! Very few people had the bread, which I will remember for next time -- but they loved the paella and the pig. Holly mixed us some cocktails so I was quite relaxed by the time the whole thing was over and I had finished cleaning most of our equipment and lugging everything back to Dan's truck, which left my legs extremely sore the next day. It was totally worth it.
Poverty
A few weekends back, Rachel was watching "Kit Kittredge, American Girl," an American Girl Doll movie, about a girl named Kit whose father loses his job during the Depression. I was catering that night (more on that later), and Drew said he and Rachel had to stop watching it after a while because she got so, so upset when the dad lost his job.
A few nights later I was putting her to bed when she suddenly burst into tears (she had been weepy the whole night, and Drew was getting irritated). "What's the matter, sweetie?" I said gently while we were cuddling on her bed. "I'm afraid Daddy will lose his job and we'll be...POOR!" she said, and that's when I knew it was the movie that had really spooked her.
I took her on my lap and explained that Daddy has very high math skills and that he will ALWAYS be able to find a job because people want to hire other people who understand numbers. And I told her that Mommy will always be able to find a job because I know how to make people's writing better and to write myself. So it's highly unlikely that we will ever be poor.
She seemed to calm down after that, and then added, "Mommy, please don't tell me any more grownup secrets anymore." By that, I think, she meant that maybe Drew and I shouldn't share quite so much with her. It's not that we share so much, exactly, it's that she overhears us talking about money and the fact that I need to earn more of it, so her head goes to places that it really shouldn't.
"I"m sorry, sweetie," I said. "You act so grownup, sometimes I forget how young you are."
"I'll try to act more like a 7-year-old," she promised.
A few nights later I was putting her to bed when she suddenly burst into tears (she had been weepy the whole night, and Drew was getting irritated). "What's the matter, sweetie?" I said gently while we were cuddling on her bed. "I'm afraid Daddy will lose his job and we'll be...POOR!" she said, and that's when I knew it was the movie that had really spooked her.
I took her on my lap and explained that Daddy has very high math skills and that he will ALWAYS be able to find a job because people want to hire other people who understand numbers. And I told her that Mommy will always be able to find a job because I know how to make people's writing better and to write myself. So it's highly unlikely that we will ever be poor.
She seemed to calm down after that, and then added, "Mommy, please don't tell me any more grownup secrets anymore." By that, I think, she meant that maybe Drew and I shouldn't share quite so much with her. It's not that we share so much, exactly, it's that she overhears us talking about money and the fact that I need to earn more of it, so her head goes to places that it really shouldn't.
"I"m sorry, sweetie," I said. "You act so grownup, sometimes I forget how young you are."
"I'll try to act more like a 7-year-old," she promised.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)