I mentioned recently that Mira was evaluated for gifted identification. She’s a bright kid, and her abilities in class – when she’s focused – made her teacher think it was worth the time to check.

We received the results this weekend. In the letter, it explained the testing methods used and provided her scores. Based on her scores, she’s not identified as gifted in math, which I thought would be her strongest skill. However, she did score high in reading, and has been identified as gifted in reading. Surprise, surprise! The girl who refused to read for SO long, saying that she wasn’t good in reading and Cordy was the “reader” among them is actually a very good reader.

She was also given a cognitive abilities test, and while she didn’t score high enough to meet the cutoff for “superior cognitive,” she was only a few points away. It’s possible she’ll be re-tested in a couple of years.

Overall, I’m proud of Mira, even if I am somewhat pleasantly surprised by the results of her evaluation.

Here’s what confuses me, though: how can a child who reads so well have so much trouble with spelling?

She reads out loud to me, and while she stumbles on some of the harder words, she still makes a good attempt at reading them the way it looks like they should sound. But have her read a word several times, then ask her to spell that word without looking at it? She can’t.

I know she’s reading at too fast of a speed to still be sounding out each word. She automatically recognizes the order of the letters and knows the word. So why is she unable to rely on that recognition for spelling?

This was her most recent spelling test. While this one was particularly bad, because she told us she liked to study on the bus and not with us (and wasn’t studying), even the spelling tests she studies for have several missed words.

Ouch.

She has fantastic ideas she wants to get down on paper, but is often held back by writing unintelligible sentences. Can you decode this one?

This was from the start of 1st grade. “I will take care of my bunny, like feed it.”

Or this one?

From Friday – the team name is “Zeus’ Thunder”

It’s like some kind of spelling-only dyslexia. Or possibly a remnant left over from when she had speech apraxia as a toddler and preschooler. Her speech is still a little hard to understand at times, so maybe when she sounds out a word, she’s writing it using the sounds she still substitutes for the correct sounds?

I was never the world’s best speller, either, but I don’t remember struggling this much. I’m not sure how to help her, other than drilling her spelling words over and over again, which she finds utterly boring. (And I understand – it is boring!) Mira seems frustrated with it, but she also prefers to act like it’s no big deal and hide her frustration. I’m planning to ask her teacher for advice on how to better handle spelling when we meet for parent-teacher conferences later this week.

Does anyone else have experience with a good reader who has a difficult time with spelling? Is it just something that will eventually “click” for her, or will it at least get better?

Earlier this year, interest forms were sent out about forming a Daisy scout troop in our area. Mira had been wanting to join Girl Scouts since last year, and we nearly joined at the start of summer, but the troop we were matched up with abruptly dissolved before she could attend her first meeting. When this second chance presented itself, she begged me to sign her up for it.

Mira’s Daisy Scout vest (I still need to iron on 2 more petals that she’s earned – oops!)

I was excited that she wanted to join Girl Scouts. I was a Brownie scout when I was in elementary school. (I don’t think they had Daisy scouts back then?) It was a fairly large troop, and I remember making crafts and going to day camp in the summer. I probably would have been in Girl Scouts longer had our troop leader not moved away. It was the only troop in my small town, so when she left, our Girl Scout troop dissolved, just as many of us were bridging to Juniors.

When Mira had first expressed interest, I dug through some boxes and pulled out my old Girl Scout Handbook. She didn’t believe I was once a Girl Scout, too, so I proved it with my circa 1977 edition of the handbook:

I didn’t notice it as a kid, but I love the diversity in this book’s images. Pretty awesome for a 1977 printing!

This troop did get started in the fall, and Mira is now a proud Daisy scout. She’s competitive, so she is determined to earn as many badges as she can. Daisy scouts are kindergarteners and first graders, so she’s one of the older girls in her group.

And then earlier this month, the Girl Scout cookie drive started. I don’t know why I thought that Mira might not care all that much about selling cookies, because I was utterly wrong. She carefully looked over the materials, especially studying the prizes earned at each level, and then announced she was going to sell 1,000 boxes of cookies.

Um…that’s the spirit, kid? How do you tell your child to aim lower with her goals?

I didn’t want to tell her that her goal was too high, but I also didn’t want her to be disappointed if/when she didn’t reach that goal. Because selling that many boxes of cookies is not an easy task. Aaron and I have plenty of friends, but not THAT many people we can hit up for cookie orders.

So I gently tried to explain just how many boxes that was, and how many people would have to order to reach that goal. I encouraged her to keep that goal in her mind, but to also set a lower goal that she’d still feel proud about reaching. Basically, a minimum goal. She settled on 300 boxes. Still awfully high, but not nearly as impossible.

For the past two weeks, she’s brought up selling cookies everywhere she’s been. She’s tried to sell cookies to cashiers in stores, to people in waiting rooms, and of course to friends and family. She’s had the best luck with friends and family, of course.

She sat next to me while I posted cookie order announcements on Facebook, checking in with me later to see who placed orders. She’s asked Aaron at least every other day if he gathered any new orders for her at his office. Mira is determined to be the World’s Best Cookie Seller, and I am the mom who is required to have the order form with me everywhere we go. Really, Aaron and I are her unpaid interns, I think.

She’s not going to make her big goal, but she has a shot at making her smaller goal. I’ll give her credit for having drive and persistence. The order forms are due later today, and she’s at just over 200 boxes ordered. Hopefully she’ll have the chance to participate in some booth sales in March to supplement her total and reach that goal of 300.

This is my first time on the mom side of Girl Scout cookie sales, and I have a new appreciation for my mom, for her efforts helping me sell cookies as a kid. So far it hasn’t been too hard, although I realize the real work begins when we have to pack the SUV full of cookies to deliver. But it’s worth it if Mira is happy and hopefully learning something from the experience.

(Side note: I’m turning in the forms today at 3pm. If you’d like to order cookies, let me know before then and I can get your order in. $4/box, and we can mail them out to long-distance friends if they cover shipping. The things we do for our kids…)

First grade has been an interesting experience for Mira and for us. I’ve found that despite already having an older child, we’ve been prepared for practically nothing with a second child. Mira’s first grade experience has been entirely different from Cordy’s first grade experience.

When Cordy was in first grade, it was her first year of being fully mainstreamed, so we were intensely focused on making sure she could handle the classroom experience and start to enter the social world of the other students. Adapting to the classroom routine and nightly homework were the topics we spent the most time on.

Mira has had no trouble at all with adapting to classroom routine or navigating the social world. Rather, she seems to think the primary purpose of school is social time. Instead of wondering if she ever interacts with other kids in her class (which Cordy didn’t much), I get a long tale at least once a week of who her new best friend is, or who doesn’t like who in her class, or tears over one of her friends choosing another friend to play with over her.

This? Not my strength. I don’t have a lot of good advice for her about navigating the social network at school. Don’t be a bully, don’t hang out with bullies, and don’t waste your time with those who aren’t nice to you are the extent of my parenting advice about friendships.

Her social nature has resulted in some classroom woes as well. Not following the class rules will result in a student being required to move the card with their name on it down the wall to a warning. A second offense in the same week results in moving it again and losing five minutes of recess. A third offense results in ten minutes of recess lost. (The consequences get worse from there.) The cards are reset at the start of each week, so everyone has another chance at a fresh start.

Mira’s card is moved at least once most weeks, and it’s generally for the same reason: speaking out of turn. Those who know her are aware of what a chatterbox she is. The toddler with the speech delay took her speech therapy to heart and never stopped talking. At school, she forgets to not talk until she’s called on in class (she’ll raise her hand sometimes, but talks as she raises it), talks in the hallway when they’re supposed to be quiet, talks to those around her during quiet activities…it never ends.

In some ways, I’m not worried. I know it’s frustrating to the teacher, but if talking is her greatest offense, she’s not doing too bad. She’s impulsive, especially with her speech, and as long as her impulsive nature isn’t hurting anyone, it probably doesn’t need any intervention, other than reminders to not be disruptive. The consequences for talking when she shouldn’t have been beneficial. She makes an effort to remember when it’s OK to talk and when it isn’t. I don’t want to stifle her freedom of expression, but there are times in life when you need to be quiet, so I see no problem with reinforcing that lesson.

It’s been mentioned, by others and myself, that she likely has ADHD. No attention span, constantly on the go like she’s driven by a motor, fidgety, impulsive – I’ve completed the questionnaire at her pediatrician’s office, but have yet to schedule the follow up for the results. If she does have ADHD, we’ll manage. (Says the mom with ADD.) At her age, she’s not going on medication, especially when she’s doing fine in school and, other than being a distraction at times, she’s not bothering anyone else.

And it’s true that she is doing well in school. Her reading is slightly above grade level, her math skills are excellent, and she’s a pro at solving puzzles. When she had her pre-kindergarten evaluation in preschool, she was identified as likely gifted. The psychologist was impressed with her cognitive skills, even though she wouldn’t sit still for a moment of the test. (That was our first clue into ADHD, too.)

We discussed the possibility of giftedness with her teacher in the fall, and she thought it was worth requesting the individual evaluation. I’ll be honest – I wasn’t sure it was needed. Yes, I want to believe my kid is smart, but I also don’t want to be That Parent who assumes her kids must be geniuses. Cordy being gifted was fairly obvious, and she needed the intervention, but the signs are more subtle in Mira. It’s possible she’s just on the better side of average and I’m trying to interpret that into something far grander. There’s nothing wrong with average, and if she doesn’t need anything beyond her regular classroom, that’s fine.

Because her teacher thought Mira should have the evaluation, we agreed and signed the paperwork, and so one day last week Mira spent the morning with the gifted education coordinator. I’m not sure when we’ll get the results, but I’m curious to know if she gets the school’s label of gifted or not. Either way, she’s a bright student and it’s heartening to know that her teacher considers her smart, despite the behavior issues she has to endure.

The only benefit to the label is that she’ll qualify for some additional instruction, which often includes fun logic puzzles and games. Honestly, I wish they included that material with all kids in the school. Logic is a valuable skill that all kids should spend additional time developing at all levels.

Whether she’s labeled or not, Mira will take it in stride. Her endless enthusiasm and energy, along with her ability to roll with most situations, gives me assurance that she’ll do fine in whatever she’s up against. School is one big stage for her, and she’s happy to play whatever role she’s given.

Life ambition at 6yrs old: be the first female Doctor Who. Or maybe a vet.