Our rambunctious Camryn Alyssa is now five years old. It's amazing to see the transformation from the biggest tantrum-throwing toddler to the most helpful, sensitive and caring girl I know. Camryn is the epitome of Daddy's girl. She loves me, but she has noted more than once that she loves Daddy the most, then Mommy, then...etc etc. She often cries when he leaves, constantly asks me when he's getting home and absolutely must have her final kiss of the night from him. Every now and then I get the honor, but on most days, Daddy wins her heart. We seem to be even though because Brielle shows no favoritism and Kendall requires me to put her to bed. I'd say that's pretty even Steven.
So today, I was upstairs getting dressed when I heard sniffling coming from Camryn's room. I went in to see what was wrong and she just started crying more. I asked her what was wrong and she said, "I did something awful." In my head I'm thinking, "Ugggghhhhh.....what now," but I just gently asked her to tell me. She told me that if she told me, she was afraid I would be really mad. I promised her I would not get mad if she was honest with me. So she started her story about how Brielle was agitating her and how she told her to stop, but she wouldn't. (Something to do with the sandbox and a sand toy....really serious stuff). I'm pretty confused in the midst of the story, because at the rate it was going, I was certain it was going to end in her either punching Brielle or throwing something at her, but I know I would have heard crying from Brielle if that had happened. So after Brielle wouldn't stop bothering her, she told Brielle that she takes back all the times she told her that she loved her. After this admission, she just started wailing. I'm embarrassed to admit that I said, "So what did you do that was so awful?" I guess I was just really expecting her to tell me that she hit her. So she said, "I just told you." OH. RIGHT. OF COURSE. She was so upset with Brielle, she told her that she doesn't love her. That is a big deal. From here, I went into auto pilot parenting mode and just helped her understand that she was just angry and didn't really mean it, but that it was important that she tell Brielle she is sorry for the mean words. She told me that she already did say sorry and hugged her, too. She was just still that upset because it hurt her to say that out loud. She stopped crying and seemed to feel better. So I went back into my room to finish getting dressed.
Camryn walks in with a piece of paper and a pen in the shape of lipstick and says, "Mommy, how do you write 'I love you, Brielle?'" [insert awwwwwwwwww]
My lesson for the day: Words really are powerful. Camryn has beat the crap out of Brielle many times, but I have never seen her so upset or remorseful as she was today. I've been replaying this in my mind all day because I am so ashamed by my initial reaction. I want her and all my kids to continue to understand the power of words. I used to read the Bible all the time in my teenage years and I don't remember what the scripture says, but I just remember my youth group leader always chanting "James 3" to us. I don't even remember what it says in James 3, but I keeping thinking James 3. I'm pretty sure I need to go read that again and explain it to the girls after I read it a few more times to myself.
Sunday, June 8, 2014
The Storm Book
A few weeks ago, I signed up to be a "Mystery Reader" in Brielle's 1st grade classroom. Mystery Reader is a parent volunteer who comes in to read a story to the children during their afternoon snack time. The mystery is that the students never know is coming in (duh).
Well, Brielle happens to have only the best 1st grade teacher EVER. We love her anyway, and she has read every possible good book to these kids already. I wanted to pick a book that Brielle loves, but one they haven't read in class before. So I ended up choosing The Storm Book by Charlotte Zolotow. It's kind of an old book--published in either the 1940s or 1950s and has a lot of wordy descriptions, but Brielle has loved it since she was three. She has always been kind of an "old soul." I was nervous about my choice, because I didn't want to show up to her class and bore her classmates.
The first best thing that happened was when I showed up. My given time was 1:45 and I showed up to the room by around 1:43. Her teacher gave me the "almost ready" look when she saw me in the doorway. I am in love with this teacher's precision with time management. Brielle was at her desk finishing up her task when she looked up and saw me. The smile on her face was priceless. She tried to wipe it off for a second, but just couldn't. I'm not sure how long that type of reaction will happen when she sees me at her school, in front of her friends, but I'm going to wallow in this memory for as long as I can.
When I entered the room, Miss Heistand said, "Brie, do you want to get a chair for Mom?" Brielle quickly set up my chair in the front of the room while all her friends confirmed with her that that was her Mom. (This was not the first time I had been in her class, but it was the first time I had such a prominent position).
Before I read, I of course had to employ my English teacher strategies and try to make student connections to the book. I asked the students if they've ever watched a thunder storm roll in. They were so excited to raise their hands and blabber all their stories. Meanwhile, Brielle was just sitting at her desk with the biggest smile. As her classmates got more and more excited, she just smiled bigger and bigger. I asked the students to pay extra close attention to how the author uses a lot of fancy words to help them picture in their mind what is going on. I told them that this is called "imagery," but I'm not sure if they caught that or not.
The students seemed to really enjoy the story, which made me happy. I was so afraid they were going to be bored and it was somehow going to have this lifelong impact on Brielle's social life. (I know, could I be any more dramatic???)
The pride beaming across my daughter's face was a moment that I just never want to forget. The more the students participated in the story, the bigger her smile grew. She loved that I was there. She loved that her classmates liked one of her favorite books. She was elated.
And so am I.
Well, Brielle happens to have only the best 1st grade teacher EVER. We love her anyway, and she has read every possible good book to these kids already. I wanted to pick a book that Brielle loves, but one they haven't read in class before. So I ended up choosing The Storm Book by Charlotte Zolotow. It's kind of an old book--published in either the 1940s or 1950s and has a lot of wordy descriptions, but Brielle has loved it since she was three. She has always been kind of an "old soul." I was nervous about my choice, because I didn't want to show up to her class and bore her classmates.
The first best thing that happened was when I showed up. My given time was 1:45 and I showed up to the room by around 1:43. Her teacher gave me the "almost ready" look when she saw me in the doorway. I am in love with this teacher's precision with time management. Brielle was at her desk finishing up her task when she looked up and saw me. The smile on her face was priceless. She tried to wipe it off for a second, but just couldn't. I'm not sure how long that type of reaction will happen when she sees me at her school, in front of her friends, but I'm going to wallow in this memory for as long as I can.
When I entered the room, Miss Heistand said, "Brie, do you want to get a chair for Mom?" Brielle quickly set up my chair in the front of the room while all her friends confirmed with her that that was her Mom. (This was not the first time I had been in her class, but it was the first time I had such a prominent position).
Before I read, I of course had to employ my English teacher strategies and try to make student connections to the book. I asked the students if they've ever watched a thunder storm roll in. They were so excited to raise their hands and blabber all their stories. Meanwhile, Brielle was just sitting at her desk with the biggest smile. As her classmates got more and more excited, she just smiled bigger and bigger. I asked the students to pay extra close attention to how the author uses a lot of fancy words to help them picture in their mind what is going on. I told them that this is called "imagery," but I'm not sure if they caught that or not.
The students seemed to really enjoy the story, which made me happy. I was so afraid they were going to be bored and it was somehow going to have this lifelong impact on Brielle's social life. (I know, could I be any more dramatic???)
The pride beaming across my daughter's face was a moment that I just never want to forget. The more the students participated in the story, the bigger her smile grew. She loved that I was there. She loved that her classmates liked one of her favorite books. She was elated.
And so am I.
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