Wednesday, May 27, 2009
I know when my first grader lies. I know when he fakes it. I know when he tries, when he gets frustrated and often, I can help him untangle the wires. I'm his translator. I'm his amplifier. I'm his interpreter. And sometimes, I'm simply his coxswain, yelping out encouragement.
His teacher assigns reading every night. Minimum fifteen minutes. Out loud. I had to ask her to clarify the Out Loud part cause otherwise, he won't do it. And when I sit by him, even when he does read Out Loud, he still skips over stuff, or bails or gets frustrated. And I gently push him back to the word he skipped. Or refused. Or screams about. 'Break it down. Try the first two or three letters...then the next...then then last. Put it together. Good!'
We will map out his summer soon, but we have a solid month of school left. We can't just run away from first grade. He's doing so well, and we're continually surprised at words he does recognize, or when we learn new word, it's all magic.
I can't believe the Junie B Jones books. Horrible grammar alone should have kept this out of the schools. Annoying can be fun, I suppose, but sheesh. My son already speaks really well---what a turn off to read the protagonist say, 'I runned all the way...'
I did find a good Jr Dictionary at B & N. Paged through a bunch and found a solid choice.
http://bit.ly/e1VSK We still hope to read something with a narrative. But tonight, I can't fight. At some point, he's going to have to do it with or without me. And somehow, I can't simply be the circus-net that he knows is there to catch him.