Brooklyn loves school. She always has. Since her first day of preschool (when she was supposed to cling to me, crying that she could never leave her most wonderful mommy and march off into the care of someone else), she has happily participated in the joy that is education. Coloring, learning her ABCs, matching shapes? Sheer delight! Playing pretend games with new friends, sitting on the rug while listening to stories, and doing experiments? Pure ecstasy! And (now that she's in first grade) homework? Unparalleled awesomeness!
She's been lucky. She had great preschool teachers. Last year, she had the sweetest teacher for kindergarten, and this year, she's in love with her first grade teacher. I thought my kindergarten teacher was the wicked witch of the west. For real. She was evil. I can still picture her mean-looking face and her stupid hair cut. Maybe that's why I never liked school. That's probably why I got such bad report cards. I'm sure it had nothing to do with my behavior.
But Brooklyn? Well, she loves school and she gets glowing report cards. She's well on her way to becoming
Then again, maybe she's a little like her mom . . .