Teaching Sierra to count and read this year has presented some challenges. It isn't anything I'm not used to, I still remember Marina, who always skipped number six and Chase, who could spell dinosaur at age 6 but still has trouble remembering the silent h in "what." I really thought I could do better this time. I have all of this experience to draw from.
Sierra skips number twelve. Double the number Marina left out. She can count to one hundred, except twelve. I blame myself. When she was four and did this, it was cute. I figured we had plenty of time to drill 12 into her head. Now I use the drill, a hammer, thumbtacks and Krazy Glue, but it still doesn't seem to stick in her mind.
Now the holiday season is upon us. And I hit upon the perfect way to help her recognize twelve. I pulled out a picture book, saved from my own childhood, Jack Keats' The Twelve Days of Christmas.
Sometimes I'm so proud of my ideas. They seem foolproof. If only they were childproof. For two days I've read through the book, pointing out the number 12 at every opportunity. I was certain my little scheme would work. Tonight, I bravely pointed out the little number 12 on the True Love's top hat and asked, "What number is that?" (Keep in mind, I had just read that on the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, twelve ladies dancing, etc., etc.)
She looked at it. She smiled. "That's a...," she began, "I know it, it's a...um...I don't know."
Spelling has been better, as long as we work within rhyme families. Mixing up those three letter words can be confusing. Then there are those tricky letters that have more than one sound. Listen to this recent conversation:
Sierra: a-g says ahhj.
Me: No, G says "g" here, so a-g says ag.
Sierra: Oh, it's like agony.
Me: Yes, it's just like agony.
I can't wait to start addition and long vowel sounds.