the wiener mom and her very wonderful big wiener

In my former life, I was a kindergarten teacher (a good one I was led to believe). I was on the teacher/public school side of things; now-I'm on the parent side of things. We got big wiener's report card for the first semester of first grade and I'm filled with conflicting emotions. It's so odd to see someone that you know and love, and created for God's sake, reduced to numbers and one sentence comments on a piece of paper. You say that my son's a two and not a three? How dare you! He's a three, I tell you! I'm proud of him and his character. I go to volunteer in his class and see him in action; listening, following directions, being so polite. People at school (kids and adults) say what a nice kid he is and he is. It swells me with pride seeing him in his "away from home habitat". but...

Yes, there's a but. He can't read. He's levels behind where he should be and it kills me. I never would have thought that I, the person who taught kids to read, would have a child who couldn't read. It destroys me. Not my ego or pride, but my feeling of peace for him. Does that make sense? Me, the worrier, imagines him not reading and continuing to not read and falling behind in school and in life eventually. I want his life to be perfect with no difficult anything, ever. Daddy wiener says that is ridiculous; no body's life is that easy. Everybody has some struggles. Not my babies, I want to say; knowing completely and fully how crazy that hope is. I want it all the same. What mother doesn't?

So, we work at home, much to big wiener's grave annoyance. He'd much rather do art, or legos, or pretend, but for 20 minutes a night we try to find some way to make reading and writing fun. He's starting to care; to want it, which is the first step. Every once in a while it strikes him that it might be cool to read what he wants to, when he wants to. He does write the most wonderful "stories" at school that his fabulous teacher shares with me. He's going to get extra help with reading in school. It will come. I just have to remind myself that it will come. He is not me. I was an early reader. Daddy wiener told me that he didn't really care about school or try until he was in 4Th grade (thanks a lot daddy). So I wait and work and love and hope (emphasis on love and hope). That's all I can do, really