Report card time (for real!)

Or not really.

It was Fall Break, marking the first report card/progress report that Strip brought home from Kindergarten, aka the big leagues. I knew this day was coming and was totally NOT sweating it. She is sweet, smart, funny; there was nothing that was going to shock me on this card.

But...

What if I have a classic case of, "My kid is SOOOOOO advanced," and after the long bus ride, she just sits like a bump on a log all day an is a total dud?! What if (even though we know she can count to 100+) she only makes it to 11 (side note, in her 3's progress report, she could only count to 13 and when I asked her why, knowing she could count higher, she told me, "I just got tired of counting for my teacher." Awesome)?! Ahhh!

Well, the card came home, and she verified what I already know. She rocks. Hard core.

I only have 2 issues with the report card, which is a scale of 1-4 (1=no concept, needs work; 4=Awesomesauce):

1. She got a 3 in rhyming words. That kid could rhyme the pants off of anyone. She's been rhyming since she was a baby. She ROCKS at rhyming. Should have been a 4.

2. She did receive one 1 on her card.

When we picked up Uncle P at the airport and he was asking about it, she said, "I got a 1 in one thing. It was years of the month."

So yeah, we need to work on "years of the month," specifically making it months of the year.

I'm not concerned. I can have her saying them in French by Wednesday. I was happy to see she got 4's in social skills. Can't teach that in a day!

Hubs is ticked and thinks the Kindergarten should have given us a goal list. Strip asked if I was disappointed that she got a 1. I assured her that it was a mommy fail. When she asked why, I reminded her that I taught her everything on that list, just totally forgot about months (she knows what month her birthday is and what month other family members are in, but can't list them ALL and in order), so it was more my fault for not teaching her than hers for not knowing. I told her I was sorry and we'd pick out a calendar. Uncle P vowed to teach her all of them, but quickly decided it was easier to teach her to cross the monkey bars by herself (mission accomplished!).

Hubs is mad. He blames the school for not telling us we needed to teach her that by fall break. Now she has a one on her permeant record. So Harvard, if you're reading this, it's not her fault! It's ours! Don't judge the slacker parents!