A little bragging never hurt anybody

I’ve been feeling a bit of writer’s block lately, constricted by the daily grind and a little anxiety about things I have on my slate. But there’s always time to brag about your kids, so here goes.

WARNING: GRATUITOUS BRAGGING AHEAD

We received a letter from my child’s school district that based on recent test scores he is going to be considered for the gifted program within his school for his aptitude with reading. So he will still be tested again over the course of the next few months, at which time they will assess his abilities and decide whether they will place him in the program, which starts next year in 2nd grade. We told him about the letter and he was genuinely excited. More accurately, about as excited for something he has very little knowledge of, which is understandable. He loves reading so much. Can’t get enough of it. He may like it as much as TV. Or playing computer games. Or… well, it doesn’t sound like he does too much reading does it? But he really does. But my true feelings on this news is that I’m so proud of him that he even was considered for the program. While I hope he gets in, it almost doesn’t matter in the long run. Just the fact that he was considered seems to be pleasing in itself. Clearly, he has inherited his father’s genes for giftedness in school as he was also in a gifted program at his elementary school. Me, well, I wasn’t exactly gifted in school. Success in school work was clearly not my destiny. Let’s just say some favorite words my teachers used to describe me were,

“Really bright, but careless…”
“Charming, but underachieving…”
“Talented, but talks too much in class…”

Well, you get the picture. I could usually charm my way into at least a “C+” when the teacher would give me that look like, “You know damn well you don’t deserve this, but you’re a good kid, so…”. My grades were usually B’s and C’s. I guess I had other priorities. I was good at other things. Like sports. Art. Bike riding. Daydreaming. Ice skating. And talking in class. My seventh grade teacher, Sister Eleanor, divided up the class in rows by conduct. The “A” kids started in the left row until you got all the way over to the “F” row of kids on the right. I sat in the last seat of the “F” row. Catholic school does wonders for your self-esteem.

So back to my son. What’s exciting to me about him being considered for this program is that he is equally talented in so many other things, too. Like building things. Joke telling. Being safe. Completing puzzles. Taking pictures. Admiring old artifacts and appreciating history. At the latest parent-teacher conference, his teacher glowed with excitement on telling us how much she enjoys having him class, how much she enjoys his sense of humor, how attentive he is and how obedient. And we told her how much he loves school. He loves it so much he wishes school was on the weekends. This is why I’m writing this post. I must get this recorded in some form for future use, “I love school so much I wish it were on the weekends.” Yes. A good bribe for later on.

I love hearing about the simple wants and pleasures of his little life. Wouldn’t it be nice if this age with our kids lasted forever?