I Stopped Listening 10 B's Ago

Mila is, of course, up to her ears in learning about words. Somewhere along the line, reading became a thing that kindergarteners have to do. I mean, back in my day, we didn't have to read until first grade, but we had to walk uphill both ways through the snow, so it balanced. Mila will, according to the syllabus, know how to read a few hundred words by the end of the year.

It's going well, let me tell you.

Problem number one is that MILA DOESN'T CARE. EVER. The kid is pre-programmed to be willing to accept a low grade. She cannot be motivated to be "perfect" by anything or anyone. It's actually all sorts of fine and dandy; it's just different. Her big sister is basically Jessie Spano and freaks out if she gets a 98%, so this thing where Mila is cool with getting half the questions wrong on a reading test is foreign to me. 

It's not that Mila can't do it, by the way. She chooses not to.

Another part of the issue is that they learn sight words. I suspect that part of Mila's disinterest in the process is because she doesn't see the bigger purpose. Knowing 20 words doesn't get her a sentence, so she can't pick up a book and find meaning in it yet. That seems to be bothering her enough that I tried to start teaching her to sound out words, but then she got frustrated because we were working on words that aren't on her sight word list. So ... meh?

But that leads me to the last challenge. While they aren't learning to sound out words, Mila's class is learning to focus on the sounds letters make. That's good, I know. BUT OMG. STAAAAAHP.

Mila is spending half of her speaking time repeating letter sounds and asking what letter makes that sound and which letter makes this sound and WHY IS MY LIFE A SPELLING QUIZ NOW? For example, Mila will say the word "balloon" and then say "buh ... buh ... buh ... buh ... buh ... buh ..." for five minutes and then add, "What letter says 'buh?'"

She waits for an answer. It's legitimately a test.

I passed plenty of tests between high school and college. Why must we go through another phase of tests?

Baby, It's Cold Outside

Mila is a bear in the morning. Actually, that's an insult to bears. Mila is more of a rabid rattlesnake who has just been stepped on by its ex-wife who ran off with all of the money. I've always thought I was bad at the whole waking up thing, but then she came along and showed me what bad really looks like. Mostly it looks like a tiny little kid growling and sneering and generally refusing to cooperate in any way. Mila doesn't turn human until she's been awake for an hour and even then, it's best if she watches some TV for a while before being expected to interact with mankind.

That's the long explanation for why I wake her up earlier than I need to before school every day. Technically she should be able to get dressed, eat, and brush her teeth in under ten minutes but HAHAHAHAHAHA. It takes Mila that long to stop glaring at her waffle long enough that she can take a bite out of it.

She is SO bad at mornings.

So. Very. Bad.

But then came this morning.

As is the case every school day, I burst into the bedroom and flipped on the light. "Rise and shine, Mila!" I always proclaim. Then I drag her out from under the blankets and carry her down to watch TV for a while. This morning was a little bit different. This time Mila curled into a tiny ball while in my arms like always, but I used one word to pry her little eyes open.

"Snow, Mila. Look outside," I whispered.

Mila clumsily pushed her hair out of her face and gave a side-eye to the window at the top of our stairs. It took a second for her eyes to lock in on what had changed overnight, but then her attention was pulled out the window and to the ground.

Her eyes open wide, Mila whispered back, "It's so boo-tiful!" She nudged her way out of my arms and walked straight over to the window where she stayed for several minutes, quietly admiring the soft coating of snow all over the grass. "Can I go to school? I want to play in the snow at recess!"

And that is the story of why we're moving to the North Pole. If all it takes to get Mila to cooperate with going to school is snow, BRING ON ALL OF THE SNOW.

MOAR LIGHTS

If you thought I have a Christmas problem, just wait until you see what Mila does in this world. That girl is NUTS. I aspire to her level of crazy. Truly.

It was about a month ago when we ran into At Home and discovered that they have a "rainbow tree." It is literally a multi-color tree with red bottom branches reaching all the way up to violet at the top. It is SPECTACULAR, and I say that as someone who already has a rainbow tree, albeit one that is solid white with solid ornaments arranged to make a rainbow. Mila was more obsessed with the tree than I was, a fact which became clear as we were walking home from trick-or-treating. Legit, the kid remembered that when we originally saw the tree, I made a promise. She wanted to buy it on the spot, but I told her we had to wait until after Halloween to think about it.

It was ten seconds after Halloween.

We bought it the next day. I know when I'm going to lose a battle, so I choose to not fight the worst of the fights.

Mila didn't want the tree for her room, by the way. She is apparently still happy with her five-foot tall skinny tree that's decorated to match her bedroom. Rather than beautifying her bedroom, Mila wants to put the rainbow tree in a front window of the house. Her reason? "It's a really pretty tree. Everyone should get to see it."

She's not wrong. 

The other thing that makes me think that Mila is going to exceed my festive expectations is an ongoing issue happening in our family room. The family room Christmas tree is new this year because the old tree kept trying to fall over, even after I replaced the stand. The new version is very pristine, which works because so are the ornaments. I often refer to that particular Christmas space as "The Martha Stewart tree" because EVERYTHING matches and is perfectly placed and so very tightly designed.

But apparently the tree needs more lights.

It was a pre-lit tree, which doesn't mean a thing to me. That is an invitation to put ten strands of lights on it instead of twenty, but that's about it. I put the ten strings of lights on it, but then along came Mila.

"It needs more lights," she proclaimed when I suggested we start putting ornaments on it.

So I put more lights on it.

She still wanted more.

We've been doing this game for four days now. I think there are currently 2000 lights on the 7.5 foot tall tree, which is a bit much? No? 

Mila says ABSOLUTELY NOT.

Challenge accepted, Mila