Little Miss Chatterbox.

We had a rough night at our house last night. Gracie brought her report card home and it was…less than stellar. Perhaps it has something to do with Gracie, but really I think it’s karma’s way of testing my mommyhood. Think you have it down pat, woman? Try this! Yeah.

Her report card was actually pretty good, grades-wise. She excelled in math, reading comprehension, phonics, writing, social skills. She had her known-pitfalls – like standing up for three seconds in a row without falling over, playing in a band (wtf, elementary school?!), and predicting the outcome to stories (the one area in which too much imagination can work against you. Ahem). She received top marks in following directions, working independently, giving her best effort and respecting her peers and authority figures.

There was just one problem. One area in which she was demoted. Gracie received poor marks in conduct. Worse, her comment from the teacher was that she has been talking far too much during lessons this quarter.

Gracie hung her head in shame when we went over that section. I had read it previously, so I saved it for last (I know Gracie shuts down and refuses to hear the positive whenever she’s critiqued for anything; I wanted to make sure she heard the good news, too). She knew what the words meant and how I would feel about it. She knew she had talked too much. She worried that she was going to get another bad report card and what that would mean. And then I started worrying that she was taking this all too hard and that she would make herself sick again. I want her to be invested in her grades, but I don’t want her to make herself sick over them. Unfortunately with Gracie, her middle ground has about one square inch of real estate. Landing on that sucker? Not. easy.

So I scooped my almost-too-big kid into my lap and cuddled her and tried to make her smile. “Okay, Gracie. We have a problem. But that’s okay because once we know what a problem is, we can come up with a plan to solve it. So. Our problem is that you are talking too much during lessons. What should our plan be?” The little twerp wouldn’t stop pouting long enough to answer. Finally, a very small “You go first,” escaped from behind her curtain of hair. “Okay, I’ll go first. I think that when Mrs. F. is talking, you should zip your lips up and throw away the key.” And then came Gracie’s justifications – she has no problem finding her voice when it comes to those! Luckily, I know how to shoot down excuses with the best of them. In fact, I might have lettered in that during Mommy Finishing School. It took some cajoling, but by the end of our talk, Gracie was on board with out plan and was full, once again, with a can-do attitude.

Of course, that evaporated pretty quickly when I told her she had only earned $3 instead of $5. I explained very carefully and lovingly that I couldn’t reward her for talking too much. Then I reminded her that she had the power to fix it by not talking as much. And then she would get a great report card and earn greens and she would get all! five! dollars! next time! She didn’t perk up that much. I kind of wavered myself there for a minute. I believe in rewarding report cards with money – in the real world after school, our hard work, efforts, and aptitude reward us with corresponding jobs and paychecks. The kind of schooling we have access to and jobs we can earn are tied to many, many things, but the one thing we can always control is how hard we try. I think that kids can learn that at a very, very young age. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t rethink all of that last night while I watched Gracie struggle. Was kindergarten too young? Was Gracie’s temperament suited to this kind of instruction? Could I expect her to toughen up, or should I adjust my “training” to suit her a little more? I decided to stick with consistency – and my offer of three dollars.

Heaven knows if I’m doing the right thing. When results come in – in, oh, about 18 years – I’ll let you know.

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Tags: kindergarten, parenting, report cards