Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Maybe it was the eleven months he spent in the womb. The doctor said there were claw marks on the walls of her uterus.

Sam's last day of school is tomorrow. Tomorrow he becomes an official kindergartener. To hear him tell it, though, things are a little different.

Let me preface this little story by stating that I am not enamored of Sam's school, to say the least. A couple of months ago, the teachers at Sam's Montessori school discovered that he was actually a little more intelligent than they assumed. They informed Leah that Sam was being moved into the Kindergarten curriculum, if you can call it that without offending the Montessori ideals. So Sam started participating in the stuff that kids a year older than he were learning.

Sam said nothing of this. Actually, getting him to talk about school since we moved is like trying to interrogate a prisoner. In Buffalo, we received daily rundowns of his activities. In Mystic, we got the tally of how many times he went outside, with a tidbit or two thrown in about his activities for the day.

Last week, Leah asked him what was going to happen on his last day of school for the year. His response?

"We're having a party, Mommy. Then all the kindergarteners but me are going to put on a play."

All the kindergarteners but me? Leah thought this a little odd. She pressed him a little more. Apparently, Sam was the only child in the school that was moved forward. After realizing this, she asked him what he's been doing all day with the "real" kindergarteners.

"I help them figure out the answers when they can't."

I taught him about neutral buoyancy and submersibles last night.