She doesn't always quite get it right...

Lucy graduated from pre-school yesterday. All the parents were invited to come a little early and watch. Mrs. Hogan read everyone one last story about a teacher with a garden (that is the theme of her room), and then each child got a certificate of completion. She teared up a little and said that she's not supposed to say this, but this year's class was one of her favorites ever. I'm choosing to believe that. She is a phenomenal teacher. The children just love her, and the amount of work she puts in is staggering. Each child brought home a memory book that she had put together for them, filled with photos of their pre-school year. They also brought home their journals they had written in throughout the year, which were a lot of fun to read--Darren and I went through Lucy's last night. Each child got a progress report too. I was happy to read about Lucy that though she had come into the class strong academically, she had dramatically improved in her social skills--especially listening and sharing. That was pretty much the whole reason we put her in pre-school anyway, so that was good to hear. She left her Pre-K4 year learning and growing so much, plus making some wonderful new friends. Here's my girl:

Around about last January, Lucy was sitting at the kitchen island, coloring and told me that she planned to stay in Mrs. Hogan's class forever. I told her that there was a lot of the year left to enjoy, but that next year she was going to kindergarten where she would have a new teacher. Mrs. Hogan would always be her friend, and she would love her new teacher just as much as she loves Mrs. Hogan. (Yeah, that was a little parental fiction on my part since I heartily disliked some of my teachers, but, as my friend Dianne says, let's just give them a happy childhood.) Lucy answered, "Well, if I can't have Mrs. Hogan for kindergarten, then I want Mrs. Blubbers."

"WHO?!" I asked.

"Mrs. Blubbers," she answered, continuing her coloring.

"Lucy, there is no way in the world someone is named 'Mrs. Blubbers.' If in fact that was their name, they would change it."

But she was adamant. She talked for weeks about Mrs. Blubbers, how nice and pretty she is and that's who she wants for kindergarten. Finally I asked my friend Sarah who has a daughter in kindergarten already. I said, "Don't laugh at me. Is there a kindergarten teacher named Mrs. Blubbers?" She laughed at me. "No! Isabella has Mrs. Anderson. But I'll ask around just in case." Then she laughed some more.

Finally I got smart and picked up the school directory, scanning all the kindergarten teachers' names. And no, there isn't a Mrs. Blubbers. There is, however, a Mrs. Blevens. Next time Lucy was extolling the praises of Mrs. Blubbers I said, "I think her name is Mrs. Blevens." "Ohhhhhhh," she said. (She sounded a little disappointed.) But through the rest of the year she has persisted that that is who she wants for her teacher. I told her that I was praying for her, that God would give her the best teacher for her and she would love and be happy with whomever she gets. "Mrs. Blevens," she said.

Somehow, all this has reached the ears of Mrs. Blevens. Yesterday on the way out of school, we passed some of the kindergarten teachers, and we heard a voice say, "Good-bye, Lucy!" (It was her heroine.) "I'll see you next year, OK?" and then she caught my eye and winked at me. We don't find out until August, but I'll keep you all posted. (I'm guessing if she does, they may be working on distinguishing "b" from "v"...)

Later on in the evening, I went upstairs to get the girls ready for bed. I found an empty TicTac box on Elaine's bed (remember "TicTac Time"? That's their cue to get in their beds--then they each get two TicTacs). This had been a brand new box; now it was empty. I guess I'm going to have to find a better hiding place for them.

"Elaine Frances, did you eat a whole box of TicTacs?" I asked. "Yes." "Eee-LAINE!" Lucy shouted righteously, as soon as she saw it. "Do you know what eating a whole box of TicTacs is like?" I asked. Lucy cut in. "It's like eating a whole bowl of soup, Elaine!"

Yes, it is. If the sole ingredient of your soup is CANDY.

This morning Lucy wanted to watch The Waltons before she goes to swimming. She needed Rabbie, but he was in the room where Darren was on a conference call so she was not allowed in. She started to cry (yeah, still working on the self-control thing). "I need Rabbie, Mama. I just can't cooperate without him!" she sobbed.

She's so funny, this little almost-5-year-old. So grown up in some ways, and still my baby in others. I have loved year 4 and all the joy she's brought to us.

Now. What am I going to do with these two home all summer?