3 Things on November 2

In our classroom, we do at least 3 Things from the shelves each day. The 3 Things doesn't include updating the calendar, singing songs about the names of days or months, listening to a story, or field trips. The 3 Things are generally academic or developmental activities you'd find in a Montessori or traditional preschool classroom. Each activity can last a few minutes or can be extended as long as Zelda's attention span can handle. The only rule is that Mommy chooses the first two activities, and Zelda makes the third and subsequent choices. 

Here's the list (with commentary) for Wednesday, November 2, 2016:

• "Making 5" (Number Sense, Fine Motor, Sorting by Color, Counting)
• Zelda made groups of 5 unit cubes. She connected them to make chains of 5. She disconnected the chains and placed the cubes on the 5-square diagram. She removed each cube as she counted backwards.
• Game Extension: Each player choose a color. Player 1 put down 1-4 cubes in her color. Player 2 put down enough cubes in her color to make 5 total. (e.g. 3 green with 2 yellow, 4 green with 1 yellow, etc.) Use vocabulary: add, plus, equal, how many more. 

• Writing Counterclockwise Curvy Capital Letters (C, G, O, Q, S) 
• We circled our arms in a counterclockwise direction and drew counterclockwise circles on the white board. Then Zelda wrote the letters on the board and on paper.

• Insects: How many legs?
• Zelda LOVES bugs. She often chooses to get her insect models out so she can observe them with her magnifying glass and microscope. We counted the wings and legs on each insect, which included a butterfly, dragonfly, ant, grasshopper, and others.
• We talked about spiders often in the weeks leading up to Halloween, so I extended the activity with a comparison of the number of insects' and spiders' legs. Do they have the same number of legs? Which has more? Fewer? Are spiders insects? Why not?

Halloween Science & Art

We got into the Halloween spirit at Long Key Nature Center, where we learned about spiders and their webs in a weekly class for the littlest scientists. 

We started by comparing spiders and insects, particularly how many legs each has. Zelda noted that the ant model was red, like the actual red ant that bit her foot three times during a nature walk at Long Key a few weeks prior, but unlike our ant model, which is brown. She also noted that the spiders on the plastic table cloth were "wrong" because they only had six legs. We played a spinner game (probability) and then recorded our data on a bar graph. 

Then it was time to make a golden web (in honor of the Golden Orb-Weavers that live in the surrounding trees) with glitter and glue, both of which ended up in Zelda's hair and other inappropriate places. She also got to "weave" white yarn around a notched black plastic plate to form a web. Both crafts were taped to the wall near our front door because they were adorable and I didn't want to do any actual decorating for Halloween. We finished the class with a little nature walk, where we counted spiders, spied a turtle and a heron, and did not get bitten by anything.

She's hugging the spider model. "I love him." 

Montessori Mix

I spent a year teaching and learning among many mighty Montessorians, and it was magnificent.

At home, I don't have the budget to stock all of the Montessori materials available for the 3-6 age group, so we use a few key items and then mix in materials I've bought over the years in traditional public and private classrooms. I guess the good thing about needing to buy so many of my own teaching tools is that I got to keep them.

The design of the room is Montessori-inspired but surely not up to code, so to speak. The order of concepts introduced is also in the neighborhood of what Maria would do, but with just one student, I have the luxury of veering off on tangents in accordance with her interests and learning style. We are picking and choosing, and we are having a lot of fun. I'm even using lesson notes from way back in grad school, the last time I was teaching and learning with the under five crowd.

My methodology evolves as my student grows. In other words, she's teaching me far more than I'm teaching her.

Zelda matches images to the initial letter sound they represent. The pose was her idea.

Another batch of initial sound picture cards, which we began after using three dimensional objects,
just like Maria would have wanted.
I swear I didn't tell her to pose like this.

I mixed the Moveable Alphabet with short vowel cards from a PK-K reading series once used by Broward County Schools. 

Halloween spurred her desire to spell 'boo,' which led to substituting her favorite letter and making a new word. 

 

Bean Letters

I picked up this lesson from my time as a kindergarten teacher. On a piece of construction paper, we "write" a letter in glue and then place dried beans along the lines of glue. It's a great activity that hits some of the most important preschool skills, such as:

• reinforce left to right directionality (pre-writing and pre-reading)
• strengthen the pincer grasp (pre-writing)
• count objects (number sense)
• talk about the letter's sound and list words that begin/contain that sound (phonics)
• reinforce the shape of the letter to promote muscle memory (pre-writing)

M-A-D

File this one under "emotions can be a powerful learning tool."

I was just looking through some old photos and found this fond memory from a few months ago. 

That was the day my child was so angry with me that she marched over to the whiteboard 

and spelled out M-A-D. 

That's what you call a teachable moment.

Field Trip: Vizcaya

One hot and sunny day this summer, we headed to Miami for Zelda's first visit to Vizcaya. We viewed every room, walked through most of the gardens, and enjoyed a picnic lunch under an impressive tree. Zelda referred to the lavish villa as a castle and was convinced that mermaids lived in the ship-shaped breakwater on the Bay. It was a magical day for all.

Visiting Vizcaya with Zelda was an extra special treat for me; I've loved the house and gardens since I first visited in the early 1990s. There's so much history packed into its rooms. I'm not sure how much Zelda soaked in from our tour, but maybe it's enough for her to simply experience something in South Florida that's older than a strip mall. 

She learned the word tapestry and was most interested in the (no longer functioning) elevator and the spiral staircases. She was also a big fan of the dozen or so young women taking picutres for their quinceañeras. Zelda thought they were all princesses who lived at the castle. We didn't correct her.

Zelda and a friend search for life in one of the garden's ponds.

Luckily, this guy wasn't in the pond. He stayed on his side of the retaining wall separating the garden from the canals.

"Look up! The clouds are like marshmallows!"

Yes, Zelda. Shoes are required when walking around historic landmarks made of coral and limestone.

Field Trip: Anne Kolb Nature Center

At the Anne Kolb Nature Center, we take long walks along the deck that winds through the mangroves. We use our eyes to observe the trees' roots dipping into the water and muck. We search for the tiny holes where crabs hide. Inside the visitors' center, we touch specimens, live and otherwise. One day, we even got to pet a sea star. 

Scientific discovery is always more fun with friends.

She's So Fine (Motor Skill Mayhem)

Fine motor skills are the actions we perform with the little muscles found in our hands and feet. It takes considerable practice for little fingers to be strong enough to fasten buttons and snaps, control a pencil and crayon, cut with scissors, or tie a knot. We do all sorts of activities and projects that employ fine motor skills and therefore independence, including picking up dirty clothes from the floor with our "talented toes" before throwing them into the hamper. 

Here we see the preschooler in her natural habitat, surrounded by the mess of newspaper scraps she ripped all by herself. Who needs a shredding machine when you've got a three year old?

(I think our facial expressions might technically be categorized as fine motor, as well, and Zelda enjoys playing imaginative games that involve dramatic facial expressions. And dramatic voices. And really dramatic plots.)

Eye droppers are excellent for strengthening the pincer grasp. In this activity, borrowed from the Montessorians, Zelda transferred water from one container (on the left) to another container (on the right). This is a fine motor skill activity as well as a pre-reading and pre-writing activity because it reinforces the left-to-right movements of our eyes and hands when practicing (English) language literacy skills. There was also a discussion about how the water looked yellow in the yellow cup, and Zelda made a prediction that the water would look pink in the pink cup. She was correct, but we double checked our experiment's results with a blue cup, too, because that's what good scientists do. (And yes, she's wearing a crown for this lesson. Princesses like science, too.)

Gross Motor

Here's all the advice I have about improving the gross motor skills of preschoolers:

BALLS.

Throw them;

catch them; 

roll them; 

bounce them; 

dribble them; 

kick them; 

toss them into boxes and baskets; 

throw them high; 

throw them to friends

...you get the idea.

We have an array of balls, big and small, squishy and hard, bumpy and smooth. 

Zelda loves to play "bally-ball," otherwise known as "catch." She tosses bean bags into holes. She "plays baseball" with her (thankfully soft-ish) bat and ball. She also goes to gymnastics and ballet classes (and who knows what else we will try this year), but the best bang for your buck, when it comes to promoting gross motor skills in babies and toddlers is still

BALLS.

Field Trip: Morikami Museum and Japanese Gardens

I'm embarrassed to say that this was my first time in the gardens, as well. 

I wish I'd visited years ago. The tranquility is palpable, and I learned a lot about 

the evolution of Japanese garden design over the centuries. 

Here are just a few moments from our field trip.

The gardens offers a quiet place to walk and contemplate the order of things, or to run far ahead of Mommy and the rest of the group while giggling fiendishly.

A local resident keeps an eye on the passersby from his impossibly precarious perch.

She knew she couldn't touch the intricate rows of the rock garden.

This would be an excellent example of getting as close as possible to breaking a rule without crossing the line and actually breaking the rule.

Pete's Four Groovy Buttons

We've attended quite a few of Mrs. Beth's Learning Adventures, sometimes in a park ($5.00) and sometimes in the party room of an indoor playground, which offers all day admission along with the class for $10.00. Mrs. Beth is a preschool teacher with tons of creative ideas and fun activities. During the one hour class, toddlers and preschoolers interact during an energetic and calendar-based morning routine, a little bit of "P.E." (following funny directions, body awareness and directionality, dance parties, etc.), and free time with theme-based sensory and art centers. Zelda gets to experience another teacher's methods, and she can spend time with friends who also attend the class. And every time we go to Mrs. Beth's class, Zelda reminds me that "now there are two Beths." 

One fine morning, Mrs. Beth brought out a copy of Pete the Cat' and His Four Groovy Buttons. She played a recording of an excellent reading of the book while she prompted her students to predict text, notice the illustrations' details, and reinforce the concept of "take away one button." 

Zelda likes texts with intentional rhythms; I can't tell you how many times I've read The Little Blue Truck and Going on a Bear Hunt. She loved Pete's buttons as much as she's loved all of his adventures. Mrs. Beth set out bowls of buttons and precut paper shirts. Zelda chose the colors because "I don't need your help, Mommy." She said there was a reason for each of them, and I'm sure she went into great detail and included multi-syllabic nonsense words that follow the phonetic rules of English but have no meaning, except for the meaning that she immediately provides, not even waiting to see if you will ask her what this amazing and preposterous word might fit into our language. Unfortunately but expectedly, I can't remember any of the details of the stories behind her choice of buttons. It's hard to remember a collection of non sequiturs and obvious epiphanies. 

However, I did remember to take a picture of this little art/math/language project before Zelda decided to reenact the book's plot. She ripped off the buttons, one by one. At least she told me how many she had each time. Lately, she's been keen to announce when there are just one or two more of something. She seems to enjoy the excitement of counting down toward zero. Pete's shirt was a great way for her to reinforce that idea. I suppose she got in some extra pincer grip practice, too. 

Pete's Four Groovy Buttons

We've attended quite a few of Mrs. Beth's Learning Adventures, sometimes in a park ($5.00) and sometimes in the party room of an indoor playground, which offers all day admission along with the class for $10.00. Mrs. Beth is a preschool teacher with tons of creative ideas and fun activities. During the one hour class, toddlers and preschoolers interact during an energetic and calendar-based morning routine, a little bit of "P.E." (following funny directions, body awareness and directionality, dance parties, etc.), and free time with theme-based sensory and art centers. Zelda gets to experience another teacher's methods, and she gets to spend time with friends who also attend the class. And every time we go to Mrs. Beth's class, Zelda reminds me that "now there are two Beths." 

One fine morning, Mrs. Beth brought out a copy of Pete the Cat' and His Four Groovy Buttons. She played a recording of an excellent reading of the book while she prompted her students to predict text, notice the illustrations' details, and reinforce the concept of "take away one button." 

Zelda likes texts with intentional rhythms; I can't tell you how many times I've read The Little Blue Truck and Going on a Bear Hunt. She loved Pete's buttons as much as she's loved all of his adventures. Mrs. Beth set out bowls of buttons and precut paper shirts. Zelda chose the colors because "I don't need your help, Mommy." She said there was a reason for each of them, and I'm sure she went into great detail and included multi-syllabic nonsense words that follow the phonetic rules of English but have no meaning, except for the meaning that she immediately provides, not even waiting to see if you will ask her what this amazing and preposterous word might fit into our language. Unfortunately but expectedly, I can't remember any of the details of the stories behind her choice of buttons. It's hard to remember a collection of non sequiturs and obvious epiphanies. 

However, I did remember to take a picture of this little art/math/language project before Zelda decided to reenact the book's plot. She ripped off the buttons, one by one. At least she told me how many she had each time. Lately, she's been keen to announce when there are just one or two more of something. She seems to enjoy the excitement of counting down toward zero. Pete's shirt was a great way for her to reinforce that idea. I suppose she got in some extra pincer grip practice, too. 

Zelda's Allergies

This is handy bit of information for those who like to feed Zelda. See below for a list of her food allergies and also a list of safe foods and brands.

ALLERGENS (What She CAN'T Eat)

• Tree Nuts (all nuts, including coconut; peanuts are okay)
• Fish
• Sesame
• Mustard
• Dairy* 
• Egg*

*Zelda passed an oral food challenge for "baked goods," meaning that she can tolerate both egg and dairy when they are baked for at least 30 minutes at 350 degrees or higher. The heating process alters the proteins so that her body no longer reacts to them as foreign invaders. She can also tolerate packaged goods that contain egg and/or dairy as long as they aren't one of the first three ingredients. See below for a sample list.

Please see each link for a list of alternate names for these allergens that can be listed in the ingredients of food products. When in doubt, take a picture of the ingredients list and send it to Zelda's parents.

A note on dairy: Zelda is allergic to the protein in milk, which means her immune system reacts to anything made from cow milk. She is not lactose intolerant, which is a condition of the digestive system.

SAFE FOODS (What She CAN Eat) 

Foods are safest when prepared at home in a kitchen where none of the allergens are present to eliminate the chance of cross-contamination. When eating at a restaurant, wait staff and chefs must be advised of Zelda's allergies. (We printed "allergy cards" to hand out at restaurants.) 

This is a list of fresh, frozen, and canned foods that Zelda eats regularly. This list is not comprehensive. I'll keep adding to it as we explore the food pyramid.

Fruit 

• apple
• banana
• grape
• strawberry
• blueberry
• nectarine
• plum
• watermelon 
• cantaloupe
• pineapple
• ...really, everything

Vegetables 

• avocado
• broccoli
• cauliflower
• green beans
• lima beans
• kidney beans 
• corn on the cob
• carrots
• bell pepper
• asparagus
• zucchini
• squash
• onion (red, white, yellow)
• brussels sprouts
• potatoes
• sweet potatoes
• ....and many more!

Protein

• Perdue lightly breaded chicken nuggets
• bacon
• tofu
• chicken
• turkey
• Jennie-O turkey kielbasa 
• deli meat (roast beef, turkey - check for dairy products in processed meats)
• soy milk (vanilla and chocolate - double check that it isn't produced in a facility with tree nuts)
• peanut butter
• Daiya cheese slices and grated cheese (only some flavors are safe; "lactose free" is not safe)
• lobster, crab, scallops, shrimp (she's tried them but doesn't seem to care for them yet)

Condiments & Spices

• dried/fresh garlic
• dried/fresh onion
• dried paprika
• salt
• pepper
• olive oil
• Earth Balance non-dairy spreads
• Heinz ketchup (which she doesn't really like)
• Baby Ray's BBQ sauce (which she doesn't really like)
• Kikoman soy sauce
• Vlasic pickles (not all varieties; check for mustard seed in ingredients)
• Hershey's chocolate syrup

Snacks & Cereals

• Enjoy Life brand cookies, trail mix, chocolate, etc. (everything they make is safe)
• Ritz crackers (original and mini)
• Skinny Pop popcorn (regular flavor)
• Veggie Stix 
• Veggie Straws
• Teddy Grahams (honey or cinnamon)
• Dried fruit (apples, cranberries, etc.)
• Snyder's pretzels (currently prefers the stick shaped ones)
• Goldfish (original, cheddar, princess, rainbow)
• Cocoa puffs
• Cheerios (regular, chocolate, fruit, multi-grain)
• Life cereal (regular)
• Pop Tarts (chocolate fudge)
• popsicles (all fruit varieties or the old fashioned sugar water and food coloring varieties)
• So Delicious brand soy ice cream (chocolate velvet flavor - always double check for coconut as an ingredient)
• Whole Fruit sorbet (strawberry, lemon, raspberry)
• Skittles
• Dum Dum lollipops
• Starburst
• Pez
• Twizzlers (but she doesn't like them, so Mommy eats them)
• Jet-Puffed Marshmallows (regular and mini)
• ...to be continued...

My Millipede

She named this one Ella because for more than a year, everything was named Ella, including stuffed animals and friends whose names she couldn't remember. (Please note: she doesn't know anyone named Ella.)

She loves the millipedes we find outside (and sometimes inside). On this particular day, she loved it so much she found out how easily they break apart. This is not unlike the time she loved a tiny lizard until it's tail fell off and then continued to love it until it stopped moving. I apologize to the tiny creatures who were lost during these unsupervised learning experiences.

Some of her friends (and their moms) are very much freaked out by Zelda's comfort level around insects and other creepy crawlies, particularly because "girls don't like icky things." I am careful to stop her from touching unknown species - and all dead things - but we never shy away from observing creatures of all sizes in their natural habitats. Maybe she will become an entomologist, or maybe she will just grow up to understand that millipedes don't care about your gender. They just don't want you to rip them in half, for goodness sake.

Insects Are Awesome

Zelda loves insects, which is quite convenient for a kid growing up in a subtropical climate. (Actually, we're in an Equitorial Monsoon region, but let's not get ahead of our science lessons, shall we?)

During the process of outfitting our classroom, we made a big trip to ACE Educational Supplies, a.k.a. the teacher store. As I filled our cart to the brim with supplies for activities pertaining to pre-writing, pre-reading, sensory, number sense, etc., I told Zelda that she could pick out one thing, and this is what she chose. (Please note that I'm not making any money for any of the products I post on our blog. I'm just sharing ideas and the cool stuff that we've been using.)

The model insects (bee, ladybug, grasshopper, butterfly, fly, ant, and dragonfly) are made to be handled by little hands that aren't always gentle. You can throw these things across the room to see if they really fly, and they will be fine. We've had many mini-lessons using the insects, most of which were precipitated by encountering one of the species in real life. It's all about authentic learning experiences, folks. When the kid is interested in something, we dive head first into learning all about it.

We focus on the main facts about insects, such as:

• Insects have bodies in three parts - head, thorax, and abdomen.
• Insects have six legs.
• Insects have antennae.

During the mini-lessons, we use the insects as tools to practice important skills, such as:

• We count the legs. Every. Single. Time. (She counts one at a time, and I show her how we count by two.)
• We talk about the insects' colors and relative sizes. 
• We compare them. (Which is bigger, the ladybug or the grasshopper?) 
• We sort them by attribute. (Which insects have wings?) 

Hearing that Zelda has a thing for our tiny six-legged neighbors, a good friend - who has been teaching fifth grade for 15 years - brought us a most excellent present. Her class had just completed a study of the butterfly life cycle, and she had three left over chrysalises that needed a place to hang out (hehehe...see what I did there?) until the butterflies emerged. She showed Zelda how to carefully transfer the chrysalises into a cardboard box resting on its side. Then we loosely covered the opening with plastic wrap (so we could see in, and the butterflies couldn't fly out). She left us with instructions for dabbing sugar water on cotton balls so the newly formed butterflies could have a nice snack, and wished us luck.

Zelda was in love. She named them. (The names changed every day, of course.) She checked them multiple times each day, and each time she asked when the butterflies would emerge. During that week, we focused on the main idea of the butterfly's life cycle and always used the correct terms, including "metamorphosis."

egg --> larva (caterpillar) --> pupa (chrysalis) --> adult (butterfly)

She told EVERYONE about her chrysalises. When the first one emerged, her excitement was palpable. She used the water dropper to put sugar water on the cotton balls, and she explained to the butterfly that she'd made it a "nice yummy dinner." The next day, we released it in the backyard, and she wished it well as it hopped on the grass for a few moments and then took off into the sunshine. We had to wait a few more days for the other two to complete their pupa stage, which was a good lesson about nature: you can try to predict how and when things will happen, but you're not always right.

To enhance the week's butterfly theme, we read The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle a few times and colored and painted many caterpillars and butterflies. I should note that in the book, the chrysalis is called a cocoon, so I made sure to use the correct term during the read alouds.

This happened a few months ago, and Zelda still talks about "my butterflies." After most baths, Zelda will wrap herself in her towel and announce that she is a caterpillar going into its chrysalis, "and when I come out, I will be.....(dramatic pause)....a butterfly!" Then she throws off the towel and demands that I notice her beautiful colors. Little does she know that I notice them every moment of every day.

Valentine's Day Craft

Yes, I know it's June, but we have some catching up to do. 

Rainy days are great for crafts, and just a few weeks after we moved to the new house (and her new classroom) we found ourselves stuck indoors. A quick trip to Michael's reminded us that Valentine's Day was fast approaching, so we grabbed an easy kit and returned home for a quick lesson on following directions. The kit had enough supplies so that we could create each of the three animals (butterfly, owl, and ladybug) a few times "just like in the pictures" and still have plenty left over for mixing it up. 

Pulling the backing off the sticky pieces was a nice little fine motor work out, as was getting the pipe cleaners into the tiny holes. She liked her butterfly and ladybug so much that they are now permanent fixtures on our Days of the Week and Months of the Year posters.

 

I am the least arts-and-craftsy elementary teacher I know. I'm the gal who'd rather set up, demonstrate, and clean up eight stream tables so the entire fourth grade can learn about erosion than plan and execute what most would consider an easy art project. To make up for this major shortcoming, I enrolled Zelda in a session of weekly art classes taught by the preschool teacher at the Young at Art Museum. I'll blog about that soon because she starts the class's summer session next week, and I'm sure she will come home with another set of projects far more creative and inspiring than I could have conjured in a million years. 

Thank goodness for Michael's and their wide array of idiot-proof craft kits.

Home + School

Previous posts on our blog have been presented in Zelda's voice. That was remarkably easy to do when Zelda didn't have her own vocabulary; I was able to put words in her mouth, read her mind, and present her understanding of the world. Now she has a voice. (Oh, man, does she ever.) I haven't written much on this blog in the last year (or more) because (a) chasing a toddler and now preschooler around is a full time job, and writing blog posts is further down my "must do" list than activities such as sleeping and eating, and (b) it feels weird to write in Zelda's voice while she's speaking/singing/yelling to me in her own words.

As of this week, our blog will shift gears. Instead of "Zelda" telling you what she's learned, I will present what Zelda is learning as she and I continue on our home(pre)schooling journey for one more year. Today's post is about the day that Zelda stopped attending her "real" preschool and started learning with me.

As some of you know (and here I'm assuming that people other than my parents actually read this thing), Zelda attended preschool for five months during the beginning of the school year. We enrolled her at a synagogue's school in Plantation, and after the first few days of tears during drop off, she had a marvelous time. The school community was warm and welcoming; she played and learned with a dozen other adorable kids; and the teacher and her assistant seemed to love teaching our child. Zelda has food allergies, so sending her off into the world was nerve wracking, but we chose the school specifically on the recommendation of another family dealing with food allergies. The director of the school is a registered nurse, and in the case of anaphylaxis, she would be the one administering the epinephrine. It's a nut free school, which doesn't help with Zelda's multiple allergies but at least checked one off the worry list.

Prior to the start of school and during the first couple months, I met with the teachers and director more than once to discuss the allergy action plan for Zelda. She brought her own lunch to school each day, and I equipped the classroom with a plastic bin full of safe snacks. I requested that she sit at the far end of the table when eating to minimize the chance of the kids touching each other with food on their hands. Her classmates had to wash their hands after eating. I volunteered to be the "healthy snack coordinator," which allowed me to email all the parents, notify them about Zelda's allergies, and offer a long list of safe snacks for each family to bring on their designated snack days. (Some parents were happy to send fruit, veggie stix, goldfish crackers, etc. to let Zelda share in the communal snack. One sent yogurt with a special soy yogurt for her. The rest sent things that weren't safe for Zelda, but she reportedly didn't care because she was happy to take one of her safe snacks from the bin.) I was in regular contact with the teacher about what foods would be in the classroom. There was a weekly "cooking" activity that usually involved kids spreading frosting on something and using fruit or candy to make faces or animals, and I often provided the ingredients to ensure that Zelda had safe options. I texted often with the teacher regarding ingredient labels when parents brought in surprise snacks for the class. During each of the 12 birthday parties, I provided safe cupcakes for my child. The front office was supplied with Zelda's Epi Pens and a box of chewable Benadryl. A list of her allergies was posted in the office, in the classroom, and on the safe snack bin. We talked with Zelda about her allergies every day, and she knew she couldn't share food with other kids. In short, I did all the things that were recommended to me by other allergy parents.

Things were going well until mid-January, when I got the call that all allergy parents dread, "Zelda is having an allergic reaction." Her teacher fed her hummus made with tahini, which contains sesame. Zelda's body reacted by puking all over the circle time carpet. The teacher responded quickly by calling for the director, who brought the Epi Pens to the classroom before they called me. She wasn't showing any other symptoms (no hives, no swelling, etc.), so they gave her a dose of Benadryl and continued to monitor her. (In hindsight, and having learned more about anaphylaxis, I should have demanded that they inject her while I made the 15 minute drive to the school, but I didn't.) When I arrived, the kids were outside playing on a pile of "snow" for the annual winter festivities. Zelda was in good spirits but tired. The teacher was within reach and was carrying the Epi Pen in her pocket. The director was standing close by. (Poor Florida kids get a mound of shaved ice and have no idea what real snow feels like...but I digress.)

My conversations with the teacher and the director were confusing; the teacher was open about giving Zelda the hummus, but the director kept saying it wasn't clear if Zelda had actually ingested the hummus, that maybe she had a virus and this was a coincidence. When the children were done with the snow, I took Zelda home, and she never went back to the school. I spoke briefly with the teacher the next day when I returned to pick up Zelda's art projects and extra set of clothes. It was nap time, and I didn't want to wake the kids, so our conversation was short and whispered. On the day of her reaction, Zelda's teacher didn't text me to ask about the hummus. She said she didn't even read the label. She assumed the hummus only had chickpeas in it (which is a strange thing for her to think considering that as an Israeli-born person, she's probably consumed a significant amount of hummus in her lifetime). A parent had brought in the hummus for snack that day, and for whatever reason, the teacher gave some to all the kids. Zelda reacted soon after. (I plan to reach out to the teacher this summer to sit down for coffee and a gentle conversation about what we've both learned from this experience. I want to know what she was and wasn't thinking that day so that I can share the information with Zelda's future teachers as a precautionary tale. I also want to know if she's learned enough from the incident to never again risk the life of a child with allergies.)

Here's the ironic part. Way back in August, when I first mentioned food allergies to the director, she stated that the school had only had a couple reactions in the last decade or more. One of the reactions happened when a young child ate hummus for the first time and found out the hard way that he was allergic. The director told me that since then she advised teachers not to serve hummus because of the possibility of unknown sesame allergies. We spoke about a week after Zelda's reaction, and she again stated that she wasn't sure Zelda had ingested anything to cause her to vomit. She also said that we couldn't have our pre-paid tuition back because the school's contract states that money is only refunded if the school was not able to meet my child's needs, and apparently not keeping her away from allergens is not in the category. So it goes.

Here's some more hindsight: there were red flags during those five months at school. Zelda often did not sit at the end of the table as I had requested. During one of the many, many food-related activities, Zelda was given a fruit bar (or fruit roll up type thing) without my permission. (I have photographs of these incidents because the teachers take pictures of the kids each day and post them weekly on Shutterfly.) I volunteered almost once a week, and on two occasions, while in the library with the Jewish studies teacher, holiday-themed snacks (jelly doughnuts and chocolate coins) were offered to the kids. No one let me know about the snacks ahead of time, and if I hadn't been there to say no, I'm not sure anyone would have stopped her from eating them. For Chanukkah, the classroom teacher gave goody bags to each student. Inside was a chewy candy made from kosher gelatin, which is made from fish, another one of Zelda's allergies. I didn't need the teacher to buy a different candy for my kid, but it would have been nice if she just hadn't put an unsafe treat in Zelda's bag. A week before the hummus incident, I noticed a nut-based granola bar on the counter in her classroom. I have no idea if a child or teacher brought it. I should have said something about it, but I didn't. I won't make that mistake again.

At first, I thought we would find another school for Zelda. I planned to create hard rules about her food intake at the new school. They were only to give her what I sent, nothing more. I was terrified to send her to another classroom with so many chances for an allergic reaction, but I didn't want her to miss out on the joys of preschool. We visited a nearby Montessori school where many friends have sent and are sending their kids. Zelda and I spent a morning there, and we loved the teachers, the kids, and the curriculum. I was all set to send her the following week. That's when my father, Zelda's Zayde, sat me down and discussed his analysis of the risks and rewards of putting her back in school. He reminded me that I have a Master's Degree in Elementary Education, that I've taught and tutored children ages 3 to 18. I had the flexibility to stop working part time. Zelda knew not to share food with kids, but at her age, it might not be possible to make her understand that she should listen to her teachers with regard to everything except food, and even if she only ate what I sent to school, there was always the possibility of exposure. As a teacher, I know that no matter how diligent you are, you can't watch every kid at every moment of the day. As a parent, I know that no one understands the complexity and severity of Zelda's allergies more than her father and I do. No one is as dedicated to her safety as we are, no matter how loving and kind and careful her teachers may be.

I admit that I was once again terrified, but this time it was because I didn't think I was up to the task of teaching my child. Could I offer her the kinds of learning experiences she would have in school? Would I be able to accomplish the the state standards for preschoolers? Would she ever have friends? Would she get bored with me? Could I handle her all day every day? (We are a few months into this process now, and last week she started reading, so I'm laughing at my past self for being so melodramatic.) I got over those fears rather quickly, and in the blog posts to come, you'll see what we've been up to. As terrifying as that January day was for all of us, it's turned into one of the greatest opportunities of my life. I get to teach the person I love most, and I'm grateful for every moment. It's a challenging task, for sure, but we are learning together each day. Guiding my daughter as she explores her world, makes connections, and masters new skills is an honor, a gift beyond any I could have imagined. We intend for Zelda to go to PreK next year (2017), when she's four, and to continue her academic career in other people's classrooms because I know she will benefit from all that school has to offer. But for now, she's in my classroom here at home, and we have begun the journey of a lifetime.

We would love to share that journey with you, so come on back to our blog for regular updates on our activities and adventures.

Thanks for reading. I promise that future posts will be much shorter.

"all myself"

This week I learned...

how   to type!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

zid

g

e 

zelda

[Editor's note: "zid" is Zelda's spelling for Zayde. "g" and "e" are apparently a secret code.]