Slow Learner

Me that is....

This year Shekinah started kindergarten, she loves it. I was a bit concerned whether her physical differences would cause any problems at school, but it seems that she isn't hearing too much from others. She did say that one little boy asked, "what happened to your hands?" and another little girl spoke up and said "she was born that way."  Shekinah seemed to be OK with it, but she did bring up the "I want hands like yours." the other day. I think we will hear that for a few years, hopefully we can support her and assure her with the proper words and actions.

Just this last week tho, I asked her about her "cards". It seems as if the teacher has a discipline/reward  plan in place for the classroom, if the child needs reprimanded she takes one of his 3 Popsicle sticks and if 3 sticks are taken, she then takes a card. I'm unclear about when the prize comes...at the end of each day or at the end of the week. But anyway, it seems as if my precious little girls has a tad bit of trouble remembering the rules. Y'know, the "raise your hand", "stay seated", and "be quiet"...those pesky rules. (Anyone that watches her in church could probably see how that might be a challenge). I had hopes that this last little one of ours would magically turn into one of those angelic children when she walks into the hallowed halls of learning, but not this one.

So we had a little chat on Thursday morning, I thought we could "practice" , I had some school papers that were not quite finished and we "might even have a prize in our cupboard".  So I set the timer and we made our goal 10 minutes. She did pretty good and when the timer went off, she was wanting to finish a paper, so I added another five minutes. We then moved to the chalk board and she drew huge sweeping letters (not those tiny ones that have to fit between those little lines). Her timer rang, but she kept drawing, I got distracted by a sound from the computer and she joined to read messages.

I really don't know what set her off, but suddenly she was crying and reaching for one of the upper cupboards in the kitchen, she stuck her little foot in the drawer pulls on one side and some door handles on the other side and was crawling the cabinets. I pulled her down and said "use your words, what do you need?" (Perfect K. Purvis wasn't it?)  More crying, more animal-like noises, certainly no "quiet hands and eyes" even though I crouched down to below eye level. I walked out of the room for a time, I came back and tried again...it went through my mind that she wants candy, but "that isn't how you ask for candy".  After about an hour, of trying to hold her, trying to talk to her, taking a video (it crossed my mind that if she hurts herself, I want proof that she really gets like this), and finally asking some leading questions.  Do you want balloons (we keep them there) and the child that I thought was beyond hearing , screamed "NO THEY'RE ALL GONE!"  I stood there trying to think and she screamed "STOP IT" by that time I had tears too and a sudden light bulb. Her crying had been reminding me of the day I met her, it was frantic and fearful....and I had promised a "prize" if she did well on her "practice" and I HAD FORGOTTEN!   She apparently had suddenly remembered.

But do I give her candy NOW!? After all that!? This was more than a whole hour wasted, more than a whole hour making her little voice into her classic Shekinah rasp.  I asked, "did mama forget your prize?"  Then I got a response, the quivery lip and the little nod. I gave her a choice of three miniature peanut butter cups or  three sour gummies. She chose the chocolate...I was wishing for some too. She sat on my lap and silently stacked those candies and re-stacked them, then slowly ate them. I hugged her and told her that I was sorry I forgot, but if I ever forget something like that she can use words to tell me. I asked her if it bothers her when she doesn't get a prize at school. I asked if she is the only one that doesn't get a prize. She told me that  it does not bother her, and other people don't get a prize.

But somehow....unless I am totally off base here, it mattered very much that day if mama remembered the prize.
Later on, she gave me a hug and said "I'm sorry mama."