Lessons From First Grade

Most of the time when Julia brings school work home, I look over it and then it goes right into the recycle bin. (Julia, if you are reading this at some later date and are offended, let me just tell you that I promise you will understand when you become a mom. As long as you are over your sneaky little hoarding tendencies by then.) Sometimes there is a gem that I like to keep, and this week there were actually two.

#1 The first was a worksheet about past, present and future. Julia had to write her own sentences using each of the tenses.

Past: "My mom washed the dishes."

Present: "I am in school. My mom washes the dishes."

Future: "My mom will wash the dishes."

I am not sure if this was a generic prompt from the teacher or if she came up with the idea for the sentences entirely on her own. Either way, she seems to think that I am much more involved with dish washing than I actually am.

#2 This one was much more tender for me. Julia was supposed to write a letter to her mom or dad, and she picked me. (Good thing I was done with my daily washing of the dishes so that I had time to read it.)

"Dear, mom

When can we play with the little peple toys. And make a breetend camp fire.

Love,
Julia"

A cute and simple request, right?

What amazes me is that she is talking about something that we did one other time, that we have never done since, and that she has somehow never forgotten. Many moons ago, before Julia was in school and back when Savanna still took naps, we took our Little People camping. They roasted marshmallows over a "breetend" fire, (tiny pieces of cotton taped to toothpicks and then taped to their bodies) set up a clothesline, (not unlike the one we hang when we go camping at the beach) and even swam in a big blue ocean. They had a blast. So did Julia and I. So much fun, in fact, that it is a cherished memory for both of us.

I didn't realize how long ago it was until I looked through the pictures to find them for this post. They were dated March 16, 2009, right before Julia's fourth birthday.

She just turned seven.

I can't decide what I am more thankful for: the fact that Julia still holds dear an afternoon of play from over three years ago, or the fact that, one day, I took the time to give my attention to a little girl whose tinyhood has since vanished. 

Whichever it is, it fills my heart is full to brimming.