A Letter to My Daughter’s Kindergarten Teacher

Dear Mrs. L,

I had planned on writing you a heartfelt note to give to you at the end of the school year. And then time got away from me.

So forgive me for typing it here.

But I still want to get it done, and time is still escaping me.

Last night Number 5 started crying.

Again.

I miss Miss L, she said to me.

Being a mom yourself, you understand how each of your children can have completely different personalities.

And you understand that while you love all your children equally, the relationship you have with each one is different and special in its own way.

I can’t really put my finger on what makes my relationship with Number 5 special.

But we do have an extra tight bond.

Yes, she’s a beauty.

But she’s also sensitive. Shy. Sweet.

Don’t get me wrong, she can be a total pain in the ass sometimes.

Often, even.

But she’s not like her older sister who is fearless and ballsy and doesn’t really give a crap what anyone else thinks.

So I feel a little extra protective of her.

And when she climbed onto that bus to go to kindergarten for the first time last August, well, I was a wreck.

Devastated, even.

Would her teacher get her?

Would her teacher understand that I didn’t care about grades or test scores or, to be honest, anything academic in kindergarten?

Would she be okay?

Would she feel safe and protected?

Would she have fun?

Of course, now that we are here at the end of kindergarten you know how silly all those thoughts were.

But I want to make sure you know that you were the perfect fit for her.

She brought this picture home on the last day of school:

I guess you had all the kids tell you what they hoped to learn in kindergarten in the beginning of the school year.

And then last week, when I was in for your end-of-the-year party, you told me she was reading on a second grade level.

So, um, mission accomplished.

I know she is easy to teach.

Back when we could afford it when Number 5 was barely two, we had an almost full-time babysitter.

She called Number 5 Genius Baby.

I know she is intelligent.

But I did nothing with her at home.

I mean, I read to her most days.

But there was no drilling. No memorizing words.

Those math flash cards you sent home?

We never used them.

I know you know that.

But I also just want to make sure you know that everything she learned, she seriously learned in kindergarten.

So thank you, Mrs. L.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Thank you for teaching her.

Thank you for making her first year of school positive and fun and happy.

Thank you for providing a place she couldn’t wait to get to every morning.

But more importantly, thank you for getting her.

And thank you for getting me.

Thank you for your patience.

I know you read the blog and you understand the craziness of our lives right now.

But I really appreciate your understanding. Your reminders.

I know I was a pain in the ass. I know I was that parent.

Thank you for all those times you sent home the second, or even third copies of things I needed to fill in and sign when I lost them the first time.

And the second time.

Thank you for taking care of Number 5.

And thank you for taking care of me.

It was a perfect school year.

Number 5 will never ever forget you.

And neither will I.

 

Thank you for making me Number 1!

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