To my daughter’s Kindy teacher,
How do I begin to thank you for what you’ve done for Baby G this year?
You welcomed my little girl into your classroom in the beginning of the year with your arms wide open. No booboo wasn’t worth a cuddle and a band-aid and, likewise, no achievement wasn’t worth a mighty celebration. It didn’t matter that the achievement was ‘not crying’ when it was goodbye Mummy time – you recognised the gravity of each and every moment in her year and respected her right to be little for as long as she needed to be. As a result, Baby G dances into your classroom, runs to you for cuddles and declares you to be the prettiest of all fairy princesses. How do I thank you for that?
You start every morning with a song and dance, you have constant music in the background and the vibe in Kindy is sometimes so delicious, I can’t bring myself to say goodbye and go. You often smile and let me join in as the kids dance and sing “jump up, turn around, have a happy morrrr-ning!”, knowing that this is my last baby through your room. You let me immerse myself in the deliciousness of my little girl at this special stage of life, even though you really should make me go. You allow me to wring every last little bit of joy out of this Kindy year and I watch you patiently and gently do the same for the other Mums. You get that our babies are only this little for a fleeting time. You care. You’re generous with your classroom. How do I thank you for that?
You have taught my child so many wonderful things! She comes home, excitedly demonstrating SY-LAB-BI-FI-CA-TION, clapping and counting syllables as though this is the be all and end all and everything exciting in the world. She lines up her teddies and teaches them to count in tens, she sounds out words and, sparkly-eyed, waxes lyrical about Jolly Phonics. She wants to learn, she thirsts for it. She uses words like synopsis and transparent and magnificent. She finds incredible joy in learning. Because you make learning tantalising. How do I thank you for that?
My child cries on weekend mornings because there’s no school. She plays with her baby dolls and names them all “Janine” after you. How do I thank you for that?
Baby G has learnt so much more in this first year of school than numeracy and literacy. Under your care, she has learned empathy. When she does something kind for other kids and I praise her, she often explains that it was you who taught her to do so. She has learned patience and inclusion and love. She has experienced the intense warmth that has come from her absolute trust in you. How do I thank you for that?
You have given my little girl an incredibly beautiful and rock-solid start to her school career. How do I thank you for that?
My simple ‘thank you’ seems so inadequate. But, THANK YOU, all the same.
You’ve made a difference,
With abundant love,
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- A Thank You Letter to my daughter’s Kindergarten Teacher.
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- Kids ADHD explained.
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- Sometimes, being Mummy ain’t all that.
- Baking a batch of memories
- “Teach him to ride a bike”, they said. “It will be fun”, they said.
- I’m leaving on a jet plane… (or seven.)
- Imaginary friends, kangaroo scrotums and personal growth.
Rude words and why Baby G thinks we can’t say them at school.
Last week, my big kids each had a friend over to play. Baby G was feeling left out because the big girls wanted alone time sans little sister, so I suggested she go play with the boys, who are good-natured and would probably include her.
She happily skipped off to Little Man’s room and I got busy cooking dinner, enjoying this peaceful moment to myself and patting myself on the back for engineering it. After a while, I realised she hadn’t come back so I went to check up on her and the boys. I peeped around the doorway to Little Man’s bedroom and saw him and his little mate jumping of the bed and shouting rude words at the top of their lungs (as 8 year old boys do) followed by raucous laughter. Baby G, of course, was howling with laughter and joining in.
Today was the day
your moment of truth.
You’ve been waiting and hoping
to lose this loose tooth.
You could hardly believe it,
you cried (with joy…)
you danced round the garden
screaming “Oh boy!”
In front of the mirror
you examined your teeth,
some gaps on the top
and some underneath.
And then you got busy
writing a note
so that the tooth fairy
would give you her vote.