There are too many graduations these days. I know, we rename them and say that they are "passages" or "continuations". Whatever. Put on a cap and gown and parade around singing graduations songs, and that's a graduation, to me. Last week, we had two in our family.
Little "graduated" from kindergarten. Well, sort of. She was in a private kindergarten this year because of her age, so she'll repeat next year in the public arena. She's ready and it will be a great transition. She was adorable in that little cap and gown and absolutely brought tears to my eyes!!
Middle also graduated from elementary school. Around these parts, that means she's going to Middle school and sixth grade. I wasn't so teary at her graduation, but swollen with pride and deflated with relief once she was done with the mandatory singing part. She hates that part and I think I might, too. But I won't say it out loud because I don't want anyone else to hate it!
On a hilarious side note, Middle is really petite. She's front row material, for sure, when you look at her across the spectrum of the 100 other kids in her class. She's probably in the shortest 5 kids, overall. So imagine my surprise when she turned up on the third riser up. Shocking. After wards, I asked her how she managed that and she admitted to doing all the 5th grade recognition rehearsals on her tiptoes so that the music teacher wouldn't move her down. Her genius plan, by the way, was to do all the rehearsals on her toes . . . then when performance time rolled around, not only stand flat footed, but also bend her knees so that nobody could see her. And boy, did it work . . . . I'd never have found her if the girl next to her on the riser hadn't fallen down and caused a commotion!
Also, in a moment of maternal pride, I have this story to tell .. . . . Every year one child from each class is nominated via a complicated private election process to be the class speaker. Middle received that nomination. When her teacher came to her with the news, she was proud and overwhelmed, but the thought of speaking in front of not only all the kids, but the staff, and all the teachers left her near vomiting with nerves. She penned this very mature and well written letter to her teacher declining the opportunity but conveying how flattered she was. She used this line in the letter that still has me blinking . . . "In the gym, I've learned that part of being a champion is knowing your limits, and at this time in my life, I know with certainty that public speaking is a limitation of mine." She was very eloquent in describing her anxiety and explained that she wanted her last couple of months of elementary school to be fun and filled with memories she would recall fondly, not riddled with anxiety over speaking at an event that should be a celebration. I would have LOVED to see my kid up on that stage, speaking for her class. BUT, I am equally, if not MORE proud of a kid that did what she did. Go, Middle!!