It hasn’t been easy.. her confusion and struggles and the great sea of deep unknown things stretching out before her. I’ve anxiously helped, wondering how poorly I do. Wondering if my fears can be detected swirling beneath each new wave of words she must learn.
Yet here we are arriving at a new place, the one where reading words becomes the walking that is writing words. We are three spelling list weeks into this territory now. It is much thornier than rowing across the reading sea. I get caught on explaining why their and there sound the same but use different spelling. I get down when my own shortcuts through the land are not encouraged. She must take the long path first before we can lol and laff together.
And yesterday she wrote a story of things she loves without asking for help with spelling.
I love apples. I love bananas. I love cranberries. I love dad. I love eggs. I love fish. I love goats. Do you love me?
Of course I do! That’s so clever I said falling into the crevice that only a broken mind can see. While I smiled and praised how clever she was I wondered and feared and questioned.. Why didn’t she say she loved me?
Maybe being teacher and parent doesn’t work. Maybe this five year ok’d already resents me because I don’t know why ow sometimes makes an o sound and sometimes makes the sound of a hurt.
With daylight came a new view from the crevice into which I had fallen. I
I reached out to my wilful adventurer and asked “why” why didn’t you say in your story that you love me?
Because mum, I wasn’t up to M yet.
Then I read her story again for the first time.