Cookies and tests, brains

My love Zoe,

Given the sub optimal public education system in Seattle, many parents explore additional public education services to supplement your standard learning. Two programs are Advanced Learning and Highly Capable Cohort. To be eligible for either one of these programs, first you need to take a screening test, and if you score in the top 94th percentile, you take the real qualification test.

We knew we had to prepare you for these tests, but we didn't want to make you nervous or stressed. You spend full days at school ,and when you come home you want to relax, and we knew it could be too much. So we decided to make it fun. Papa bought some practice tests, and I bought some cookies. When you came home from school one day, you found a plate with a big cookie and a cold glass of milk waiting for you next to the computer. You sat down with papa and practiced. We did this evening after evening, with different cookies. We called it a game. Your goal was to win the game, and we were measuring the effect of cookies on your performance. Which cookies were making you perform better. When things would get heated up, I'd switch with dad, and continue your practice. Of course, after a while, things would heat up with me. It's so hard to stay calm when we want you to do well, and you make a silly mistake or don't pay attention. I also know that it is too much to ask from a six year old, full of life and energy - to sit and answer questions after a long day at school. One thing I'm sure of, you were a great sport. You bore with it, and we all did our best.

Exam day came. We all drove down to a school in South Seattle. Kids in the waiting hall were sitting quietly next to their parents. One girl was playing chess with her dad. All the kids were calm, except for ours. You and Echo were running around, moving from seat to seat. We were the only ones who spilled their drink. We can't compete with these families, papa and I thought. You two light up the space with energy. You are not mellow, with a mysterious ability to ignore stimuli.

It was your time to go in to the exam room. We stayed in the waiting hall, entertaining Echo. Then kids started coming out at varying intervals. Finally you stepped out, content and relaxed. You mentioned that there was a problem with your booklet but that they fixed it. We were not going to let that info slide after the effort we all put into it. I went to speak to the supervisor who explained that your booklet had extra pages with extra questions. You noticed the problem and raised your hand to alert them! He said they fixed the problem for the time being, and they separated your booklet from the pile to make sure it is further fixed so the computer can scan it. "This never happened before," he added, which to me meant, they had no process already in place to fix it. I told him that I needed to be further reassured that it will be fixed, so I needed to know how. I suggested that they copy your answers to another booklet in my presence. He wanted to hold off on that, to explore other options. I wasn't rude, but I was persistent. I added, as a concerned mother, that for the system, Zoe is one of the thousands of kids taking this exam, whereas for me, she is the one. He understood me. He said his name was Tom, and volunteered to give his cell number. I eyed his badge for a last name, but that too only said Tom. He told me to call him on Tuesday, after he talks to the school district office. It was way past lunch time, and we were starving. We drove to a pizzeria nearby where I asked dad to go back and talk to Tom. Not having a last name worried me. What if he didn't answer the phone... There are so many Toms. On Tuesday, I called Tom. He said that they decided to copy the answers to another booklet in the presence of a witness. He said something polite about understanding the type of person I am and offered to meet so I can compare the answers in both booklets and see if they were copied right. I gave a sigh of relief that he offered it first. I didn't need to explain myself to this guy. He already knew me. He said he would have wanted the same if it were his child.

Next Saturday, I drove back down to the same school to meet Tom and inspect the booklets. The answers were copied correctly. We were focusing only on the answers, but I was trying to glance at the questions as best I could to get a sense of how well you did. Your verbal and math were impressive, but I saw errors in the analytical section - consistent with your practice test results. Then the waiting period started. Were you going to qualify for the real test?

A couple of nights ago I logged in to the website and saw that your real test is scheduled for January 7! I called papa and we went crazy. We ran to your room and tried hard to wake you up and celebrate. You are such a deep sleeper! We hugged you and told you that you that you passed. We still don't know your score, but we know that you must have scored in the 94th percentile (top 6% of students) to qualify for the real test. And you did! Now we need to start practicing for it. It's going to be a 3 hour long test. It's insane to expect 6 year olds to concentrate for that long. We promised you we would do the cookie experiment again while we practice. We also promised to do anything you want and go anywhere you want after the exam. You are such a smart little girl with a gem of a brain. Everyone who interacts with you closely notices that about you. Your class teacher during the parent-teacher conference said "what I like most about Zoe is how her brain works."

It's going to be tougher to pass the full test.  The passing requirements are higher (top 5% in verbal and math + top 2% in at least 1 of the 3 categories), and you'll be competing against the very best who already passed the first test! From what we hear, a lot of the kids will be on the autism spectrum with great ability to focus on single things but with limited social skills... If you don't meet the required criteria, nothing bad will happen. You will still be my happy, smart and charming Zoe. You might actually end up being a happier child if you don't qualify, or we can try again next year.

I love you!

Mommy

First lost tooth, and your 6th birthday

My lovely Zoe,

Last night, you finally lost your first tooth! Big excitement, after long waiting. "Mom I lost my tooth! I lost my tooth!" We were all so happy, and all over you. Echo didn't quite know what was going on. Confused, she pointed at her mouth "I lost tooth!" We took  pictures of your gap, your fallen tooth, and your joyful face.

You waited so long for this moment. All your friends have been losing their teeth, walking around with gaps in their mouth, getting tooth necklaces at school, and tooth fairy gifts from their parents. You really wanted to loose a tooth before summer vacation, so you could get a tooth necklace from your teacher, but it didn't pan out.

A couple of days ago you came to me scared and in tears, because you discovered that your permanent teeth were growing in parallel to your wobbly baby teeth at the lower front of your mouth. I calmed you down, saying that it sure happens to some kids, and right away, scheduled an appointment with the dentist. Echo cheered you up on the dentist's chair with her hugs, while waiting for the dentist. The dentist told you to move your already wobbly teeth several times a day.

Sure enough, two days later, the tooth was gone. It was past 9pm, and I didn't have a gift from the tooth fairy at hand. We all jumped in the car and went to the store, not telling you the real reason. I went in to pick a fun toy for you, while you all waited in the car. At home, we put your tooth in the Tooth Fairy pillow. When you went to bed, I put the gift on your bed as well, which you found in the morning. It's a fun toy.

I also picked a cute backpack for Echo, shaped like a penguin. It's always an emotional dance between teaching you girls to accept someone else's spotlight and making you happy. Tonight we will play together with your new toy.

One more thing I'd like you to remember from this summer - we celebrated your birthday at a chocolate factory!

I love you!

Mommy.

Swimming in Hawaii

My lovely Zoe,

You finally beat your fear of swimming unaided. Another one to your chain of achievements this Spring. You missed out on snorkeling and ocean fun on a boat during the first days of our Hawaii vacation. We tried to help you, convince you and even force you a little. We had a number of fears to beat: drowning, putting your face in the water, and lastly, the fear of fish. At some point, papa and I gave up, so we can all have a pleasant time, and let you hang in the pool with floaties while we took turns, doing other things while one of us kept you company. Echo enjoyed everything we did in the water, be it in the ocean or the pool, so she tagged along. You and I also made a deal, that in our last day, you will swim unaided. At some point you started to show interest in learning how to swim, and we started counting seconds, to see how long you could float. You beat your first fear - drowning - and we were so proud. You didn't leave it at that. You started playing with your friends going under the water. I never thought I'd see this anytime soon.

"Mom, can I try something in the water?"
"Yes, you can try anything in the water."
"She'll try to swim through the loop of the railing under the water," said one of your friends.
I realized that I spoke too soon. "Oh, that's not what I was expecting. Let me get in the position to save you," I said, and I took off my glasses and flipflops, and sat on the edge of the pool.
The other mom, who did not let her daughter try, now felt obligated to change her mind, and told her daughter to take off her hat if she was going to try that. You dove in, passed your whole body through the loop, and came out proud. And so was I. Nothing like self determination and example of peers who try things we shy away from.

By the time our vacation ended, you were still afraid of the fish, so you didn't get to enjoy the ocean much, but at least you started playing with the waves. I'm sure next time we are in Hawaii, you'll have the time of your life snorkeling and swimming with the fishies. In the meantime, you can swim!!!

Love,

Mommy.

One breakthrough after another

My beautiful Zoe,

Spring brought a Zoe that's daring and persistent. You've been going through many breakthroughs. You mastered the monkey bars, you learned to scooter like a pro, and bike without training wheels. And you learned how to read.

As the weather warmed up, we started seeing more children on scooters on the way to school. I think seeing your friends on scooters, rather than just random kids, was a motivator. You started asking to scoot to school too, something you never volunteered to do, and protested when we offered. We got your scooter 2 years a go, as a birthday gift for me. I was pregnant with Echo, and I asked dad for 2 scooters - one for you and one for me, hoping we would scoot around the lake together, since I was too pregnant to run. And now, 2 years later, you outgrew it. Dad and I were all too eager to buy you a new one. As much as we would have liked to make you ask for it, and maybe wait for it a bit, so you learn to value it, we were excited for you, and ordered a very cool scooter - pink, with scull pictures. It took you less than a week to get comfortable on it. In parallel, you've been practicing the monkey bars at the school play ground, and occasionally mentioning at home your progress. I knew it made you unhappy to see that other kids could jump from one bar to the next, while you couldn't. Why did it take me longer than other kids, you asked. I tried to explain that we are all good at different things, though I knew it bothered you. But once you put your mind to it, within days, you became a monkey too.

I was happy and proud, and seeing how you scooter, I knew that if you dared, you could also bike. So I started telling in a fun, excited way, that if you scoot so well, you totally know how to bike without training wheels, because scootering is so much harder. The evening before Mothers Day I saw your writing assignment where you wrote in your kindergarten style "my mom is nice because she encourages me to bike." Another one of the best gifts, given unawares. "I know what I want for Mother's Day," I declared. I want Zoe to ride her bike without training wheels. You paused. "Do you want to try it now?" jumped papa, excited. I priceless expression of wish, excitement and awareness of the challenge swept your face, and you quickly got ready. I continued with dinner preparations when a few minutes later papa called saying "you should come and see this." I grabbed Echo, and ran outside to see you pedal away, without training wheels, papa filming your achievement. Proud, everyone.

You are going through a breakthrough, I said, listing all your recent achievements. You wanted to know what "breakthrough" meant. A few days later, you were telling me all the things you are now able to do - "I must be going through a breakdown," you said. You've always practiced new things you learned. "Breakthrough," I corrected. "You are going through a breakthrough." You are also reading so well. Some nights at bed time we pretend I'm the child and you are the mom, and I refuse to go to bed unless you read me a book. You love this game, and you read to me. I wish we could play it more often, but it's just so hard to find time for it all, especially the way you and Echo just don't go to bed. All the kids are asleep, but the two of you are still up.

I love you and I am so proud of you, always. On top of it all, you are an amazing big sister to Echo. You are her "Ayi" and my Zoe.

Love, Mommy.