(Lack of) Progress Report

Despite the protests from my logical brain, I have been unable to stop myself of late from comparing my children's progress to the progress of other children. Let me tell ya- things aren't looking too good for the next generation of Miller-Chockleys.

First off, Connor. This year in the Koala (three-year-old) Room, they are learning letters. Connor has learned to recognize most letters, but the sound they make escapes him. I'm sure it's hard to remember that an "A" makes the sound "aaaay". But certainly "Doc" does not start with a "T"! There are Toucans at his school who know that! I expected him to be reading by age three, not cutting out a picture of a car to add to his "T" homework sheet! Reading might sound like a tall order, until you realize that family legend has it my brother and I both learned to read at age three. So Connor's only got a few more months to get hooked on phonics- otherwise we'll have to turn our attention to athletics, the only college scholarship he will one day have a chance of receiving.


And then there's Chloe. Poor Princess Chloe, who can't be bothered to a) use her legs for anything other than kicking while I change her diaper, or b) use her mouth and tongue for anything other than processing food to be swallowed for digestion. Chloe will be one in a week. When her brother turned one, he had already mastered walking, deemed it too ordinary, and had begun running everywhere. Running after a "ball" or "mama" or "dada," or any of the other words he knew how to speak on the occasion of his first anniversary of life. Chloe prefers to remain mute, unless you count clicking your tongue as a form of communication. Which I think they do in some African nations, but somehow I don't think she's that advanced. Her other form of communication is to shriek at the top of her lungs, which usually deafens me as I am inevitably carrying her, putting her mouth and my ear in close proximity. I have spent a good deal of her first year telling her how smart and strong she is, but I think it's time to give up on that and start focusing on her looks. Perhaps one day she will be able to point and grunt towards a diploma, convincing a college recruiter that the pretty girl wants to go to school. Then he can carry her to her first class.