Bookworm

She was never particularly behind in reading, but certainly wasn't "accelerated" either. Now she is smitten. What's softball, or even breakfast, when you have Harry Potter? I have to stop her from taking books in the shower with her.

My Author

In both first and second grades at my kids' school, a big component of the curriculum is something called "Writer's Workshop". It's a writing program that goes on throughout the year. This year, Smunch's class had it on Tuesdays and Thursdays and the teacher requested four parent volunteers for each day. I was there at least every other week. The program concludes at the end of the year with an Author's Breakfast where parents bring in food and each of the kids reads his or her favorite piece of work to an audience.

I'm always a little nervous for Smunch. His speech has been poor of late and his ability to organize and write a story is...well...it's probably second-grade appropriate, but it's not excellent. I ended up working with Smunch much of the time I was in the classroom because I realized that he was never asking for help from anyone else and needed it.

Still, he's always proud of his work and despite the stutter, I think he enjoys being the center of attention for a little while.It was hardly a flawless reading. He had trouble speaking, even though reading is usually easier than speaking off the cuff for him. In his previous presentations to the class, I noticed some stuttering, but it wasn't very noticeable unless you listened for it. This time, it was very obvious. But he didn't stop, didn't give up. He made it through his story...one about two boys who find a pirate ship on the beach and go home with pockets full of gold...and was proud of himself.And I was proud of him too!

An Author in our Midst

One of the most anticipated events of the year in first grade at Smunch's school is the Author's Breakfast. See, prior to this day, the kids work really hard to write a few stories. They outline, they write, they edit. When the story is approved by the teacher, it goes "to the publisher"...which is a really exciting way of saying that the teacher gives it to one of the moms to type up. Then it comes back from the publisher and needs to be illustrated and have a cover designed before the whole thing is bound.

Smunch wrote three "books". His first was called "How Martin Luther King, Jr. Changed America". Kinda serious stuff, that. He chose the topic himself. Huh. The second was called "Me and the Rocket Ship" (no accounting for grammar there) and the final story, which he chose to read during the Author's breakfast, was "The Little Boy and the Baseball Player".It was a short story, with an emphasis on short. But this was the first time he'd been asked to get up in front of an audience and read. It may not be that big a deal for a lot of kids, but for kids who stutter, it can be absolute torture. He did a great job! He started off nice and slowly, reading very clearly. Like most people who are a little nervous, he kind of rushed towards the end, but the stuttering was barely noticeable. We were such proud parents. The kids have to write a dedication page for each of their books. Smunch dedicated his book to his grandpa because he had helped coach his baseball team. So sweet. And my dad was even there to be appreciative. I was a little surprised that he came, so I was thrilled when he got sole billing in the dedication.

Smunch's time in the spotlight was short and he was first, we we still had to sit through the remaining 17 students' books. Turns out, the dedication surprises weren't over. It wasn't shocking to hear the girls dedicating their stories to all their friends "because they believe in fairies too" or whatever. And it wasn't unusual for a couple of kids to dedicate stories to their teacher or to to their siblings. But the boys generally didn't mention their friends. Only two of them did, including this one:and a second one from one of the more "popular" kids in class that said "This book is dedicated to my friend Gavin because he is nice to me." Geez. Who knew?

As much as I was proud of Smunch's reading job, I was thrilled to find out how well-liked he is. There are so, so many things about his personality that are really encouraging. Having seen how stuttering can make kids too scared to speak or turn them into social outcasts, I'm relieved and excited to see that he doesn't seem to be heading in that direction.

He may not be an angel at home, but apparently, we've actually managed to produce a nice kid!

Super Sled

Since I have my own deep-seeded fear of skiing, I'm not particularly anxious to have the kids learn. And, honestly, it was just so nice to kick back and be in no hurry to get anywhere during our whole trip, that I'm inclined to keep it that way. Of course, that almost certainly isn't going to happen. Daddy did go up for a half day of skiing at Squaw Valley. He had a blast.

I had a blast reading my book while Daddy skiied...interrupted at intervals by one or another kid-related incident in the snow outside the cabin. There was some significant screaming and crying and a memorable moment of Mam banging on the cabin door screaming "EMERGENCY, EMERGENCY!!!".

The emergency...which, in truth, was indeed a minor emergency, turned out to be that Smunch had fallen down a hole in the snow next to the cabin and couldn't get himself out. It was even a little bit of an effort for me to drag him out. Sometimes it's nice to have two kids who have an interest in taking care of each other...even as they beat each other up.

Mam managed to give me her cold right before we left for the mountains, so my enthusiasm for snow play was a bit limited. I was glad I'd thought to bring all the ingredients for homemade chicken soup...and a bunch of tea bags for sitting by the fire, reading and sipping.

Daddy was there for much of our time around the cabin, of course and he orchestrated two really killer sled runs for the whole family. The first was right across the street, on a rather steep hill that was several feet deep in snow. We all went out and had a lot of fun sledding down, even though we had more than our share of wipeouts.Well, O.K., maybe that was just me.

Mam seemed to have a great time sledding, squealing all the way down the hill, but she wasn't nearly as interested walking back up the hill and repeating the exercise over and over again as her brother was. She preferred just to sit happily in the snow in her snow bib.By my last sled run of the second day, also on this steep hill, the snow on the trees had melted enough to turn the snow below to ice and one leap into the air and crash to the ice took my tailbone out of commission for the rest of the trip. Ouch! I still haven't quite recovered. From time to time, you can see me go to sit down and pop back up like I've sat on a tack. But no, it's just that bruised rear end of mine.

While Daddy was skiing, I introduced the kids to a far simpler form of sledding, since I wasn't about to chaperone a sled trip on my own...especially as the wipeout queen. Instead, I showed them how to sled down the ramp of snow that the plow left at the end of the driveway.Even though it made for a short sled run, it also meant they could do it by themselves, they could go down head first if they wanted and it wasn't much of a hike to get back to the top.

One of the other things we never got the opportunity to do on our trip back in December was build a snowman. The kids had really wanted to do that. This time, I didn't let them miss out. We started this one on our first day, but the snow was so powdery that it really didn't stick together well...hence the lumpy appearance of this guy. But we had fun putting this one together and my soup ingredients came in handy yet again.S/he does have arms, but Mam insisted on using sticks for arms and they just don't show up with the background.

I don't think we'll make it back up to the snow again this year. I've got plans for camping come spring break, assuming it's not too cold. But I have a new appreciation for vacationing in the winter. We had a great time and really did everything we wanted to do. Next time, though, Smunch says he's going skiing.