On the Last Day of School

This morning Alyssa woke up to shower before school and whispered to me, “Let’s not tell Livie that today is the last day of school.”

I asked her why.

She wanted Olivia to be surprised when they walked into Gram’s house this afternoon when Alyssa announced that it was summer vacation.

I smiled and said that was a cute idea but then reminded Alyssa that we’ve been talking about the last day of school all week. Olivia kind of already knows that today is the last day of school.

Alyssa suggested that maybe Olivia forgot.

I went with it. Who am I to ruin a potential surprise? (Alas, poor Alyssa, Olivia absolutely did not forget that today is the last day of school.)

So yes, today is the last day Alyssa will be a fourth grader. She’s had a great year. She missed two spelling words all year. She won three spelling bees. She learned to play music on the recorder and is interested in taking up the flute next year. As one who played the flute for eight years, I could not be more excited for her.

Friendships that started last year have solidified this year while others that seemed really solid have drifted, changed. And that’s all good, Alyssa is finding herself, learning who she needs by her side, who she wants there when things are at their best or, heaven forbid, at their worst.

I watched her write something the other day and marveled at how much her handwriting improved from August to now. Last August, at the beginning of fourth grade, her handwriting was barely legible. Now? It’s lovely, all loopy and highly legible.

Olivia has asked all week if she’s going to be in kindergarten tomorrow. Each time she asked the question I reminded her that she had a few more days as a kinderkid but then, after a nice long summer vacation, she’d be a kindergartner at last. She wants that so much.

She’s come a long way in this school year too. She actually talked to her teacher this year. Her peers? Not so much but hey, we’re taking whatever improvements we can get. Talking to her teacher is most definitely an improvement. Sure, those conversations were whispered on O’s part but still, communication was happening, no matter how quietly.

She recognizes all her letters, counts until she’s bored, can write her name fairly well and is cutting better than ever. She hops on one foot, runs after her sister screaming at the top of her lungs and flings herself onto the floor in wild, uninhibited somersaults.

We’re all ready for this summer break that is looming but I can’t help but marvel at the changes this year brought and wonder about the year that is ahead of us.