These kids are being tested before they even start school?
So I started doing more research on these "Readiness Assessments". Basically, I fell down a rabbit hole and, 2 hours later, I had myself worked up into a tizzy and convinced that my kid is in no way ready for Kindergarten and will therefore struggle all of her life and that it's 100% all my fault. I went to bed that night downright distraught and feeling guilty that we hadn't put her in a formal preschool and had instead chosen to keep her at home with me teaching her the basics of preschool.
I woke up the next morning still feeling stressed about it. Determined to start drilling more educational info into Bailey's head in an effort to ensure she wasn't behind the other kids her age. I busted out old textbooks and lesson plan books from when I used to teach preschool, and I was so ready to sit her down at the kitchen table and have her get to work. And then I overheard this simple, sweet exchange between her and her brother:
Gerry: (teasing) "Bailey, I got you juice...I got you juice!"
Bailey: "That's okay, Gerry, you can have it. Are you thirsty, buddy?"
G: "Yeah."
B: "Then drink some of my juice, it's okay. Go on. You can have it."
She watched him drink her juice, completely oblivious to the fact that he had his very own, very full cup sitting just a few inches away at the table. When he finished her cup and dribbled a bit of juice down his chin, she laughed.
B: "You're so silly, Gerry. I love you."
G: "I love you, too, Bailey."
And, just like that, I wasn't stressed about how she would do in Kindergarten anymore. Because, with all my worrying, I had completely forgotten to take a step back and look at the big picture. Sure, there are things she'll need to know before she goes to school. Things like writing her name {which I'm proud to say she can do on her own}, being able to state her address and phone number {she can tell you what street we live on and in what town, but the phone number is a total mystery to her}, her full name {she used to insist that people called her by her full name, so she's got that one down}, how to spell her name {she somehow always forgets to say the E in there}, being able to dress herself without assistance {got that one down, too}, and recognizing the letters of the alphabet {she can recognize the letters in her name--that's about it}.
There's a whole checklist of things that our kids are expected to be able to do before going into Kindergarten and if you're not careful you could end up getting sucked into the whole "OMG, look at all these things my kid is supposed to do, he/she will never be ready for school and will end up on the streets..." like I did.
Don't stress.
Don't stress yourself out. Don't stress your kid out. There will be years and years to come where you can both {or maybe just you} stress and worry about your kids' academic life. Don't do it now when they're still so sweet and innocent and little. Let them be little. Because there are so many amazing qualities in your kids that aren't going to show up on any readiness assessment. And those are the things that you should be focusing on and fostering in your kids when they're this age. Not the rigorous, crazy academics of whether they can write their full name in cursive and count to 100 before entering Kindergarten (yes, I'm slightly exaggerating). Because these assessments that I got myself so worked up over won't tell me anything about who my kid is.
They don't measure how incredibly kind she can be. I'll never forget the story my mom told me about the day she and my dad took the grandkids to Chuck E. Cheese. At certain points throughout the day, Chuck E. comes out and leads the kids in a dance at the front of the play area and, afterward, an employee tosses a bunch of tickets out for the kids. It's basically a free-for-all with all of the kids scrambling to grab up as many tickets as they can. On this particular day, Bailey had grabbed a bunch of tickets for herself. She noticed that there was a little girl who hadn't gotten any tickets and was just standing there in the crowd of kids, presumably overwhelmed. Tickets = prizes, and any kid her age (she was 4 at the time) would have grabbed those tickets and run with them. But Bailey saw that this little girl didn't have any and, without any prompting, she walked over and gave her tickets to that little girl. Without a second thought and without expecting anything in return. To her, every experience is a chance to make new friends and I often watch her walk over to another child and say, "Hi, I'm Bailey. Want to play?"
They don't measure her sense of humor. This girl cracks herself up regularly. She finds the goofiest things hilarious, and she's working on perfecting the art of the knock-knock joke these days. She's quick to smile and she loves to laugh. She'll sings along to every song on the radio and at any given moment you can find her dancing around to some tune playing in her head.
They don't measure her ability to play. In the grand scheme of things, "play" might be at the bottom of the list as far as academics go. But as a mother, play is pretty much number one on my list. Because there are so many things we can learn from our kids just by playing with them and watching them play on their own or with friends. For instance, Bailey is pretty good at throwing and catching a (large) ball. She's imaginative, and she creates these worlds and scenarios with her baby dolls and her Barbie dolls, and some of the things she comes up with in her play just astound me. She's busted out the dress-up clothes and been a doctor, a baker, a dancer, a teenager, a princess. She takes out her dolls and a pack of wipes and a diaper, and she's the most caring mother I've ever seen. Yesterday, her Barbie and Ken dolls went swimming with their friends (in a giant bowl filled with water in our kitchen) and then all of their kids got together and had a sleep-over at Barbie's house. Ten minutes later, the Barbies had been put away and her baby doll, whom she's named Sparkles, was heading to the doctor's office for an appointment. While her baby got shots, Bailey held her close and softly crooned in her ear "It's okay, baby. Mommy's here. It will all be done in a minute."
They don't measure her level of creativity. Coloring is one of Bailey's favorite things to do. Give her paper and crayons, and she'll be occupied and happy for quite awhile. Her favorite thing to draw these days is people, and she pays close attention to detail. Mommy gets long hair. Daddy and Gerry both get short hair. Pop Pop gets no hair on the top of his head and just a little bit on the sides. She's into painting and writing/drawing on our whiteboard-chalkboard, and she writes her name on each of her creations so we know who made them. Her creativity doesn't stop there. She's downright obsessed with nail polish and makeup, and one of her favorite things to do is to try new looks {something we'll probably need to tamp down a bit when she goes off to school}. She's come up with some serious makeup combos and she has a blast with it.
 |
| Look at her, already perfecting the art of coloring in her brows. ;-) |
They don't measure her decisiveness. From the day she was born, Bailey has always easily made up her mind. She doesn't waffle, she doesn't struggle with internal debates, she doesn't make decisions based on what other people will think. She knows what she wants and she's not afraid to go for it. It's one of the things I admire most about her.
They don't measure her negotiation skills. And this girl has got some serious skill in this department. Bailey sees just about every situation as an opportunity to turn things the way she wants them to be. Mom says I can only have 2 scoops of ice cream before bed? I'll shoot for 5 and settle for 3. Dad says no McDonald's for dinner? I'll talk him into Chick-fil-A instead. It's bedtime, but my favorite show is about to come on? Let's start the negotiations for a later bedtime tonight! I love that Bailey questions authority and I love that she attempts to make certain situations go her way, even if she knows that ultimately they're not going to. I hope that's a quality that she never loses.
They don't measure her bravery. My girl is afraid of a lot of things. Bugs...sleeping alone...sleeping at other people's houses...swimming...certain social situations that involve her talking to groups of people. All these fears, and yet she's so damn brave. She's started sleeping over at my parents' house again every other Thursday night, and she has a blast when she's there. Just this summer, she's started to venture further into the pool instead of clinging to the wall and/or stairs. She's starting to do things that she used to be too afraid to try, and I'm so proud of her for it. She takes a deep breath and gives herself a pep talk {which is hilarious to actually hear} "Whew, okay, Bailey. You can do this. It's gonna be okay. Just calm down. You can do it." And then she does.
They don't measure her desire to learn. Bailey loves learning new things. She wants to learn new things, and she's so proud of herself when she does. She likes to be independent and to "do it myself", and I so admire that about her. She started drawing actual people with facial features and hair instead of just blobs all on her own more than a year ago. She loves to play "I Spy" and "What Letter Makes the Sound __?" in the car. She asks me to write down certain words so she can copy them. It took her a little over a week to learn how to write her name without help, and the day she finally did was one of her proudest. She's constantly asking questions about how things work and why certain things happen the way they do. Her curiosity and her desire to learn new things are only going to grow bigger and brighter as she gets older.
I can't believe I let myself get so worked up over these stupid assessments. They mean nothing. And if Bailey does "poorly" on them {which I don't think she will at all} that doesn't mean anything to me either. Because I know she's smart and she's good and she's kind and sweet and she cares about other people, and that's so much more important to me than her scoring well on an exam or assessment, especially one given before any learning even starts. She's an incredible kid, my Bailey, and she's only go to keep getting more incredible. So, bring it, Kindergarten.
