My Big Girl is finishing the third grade.
I remember the 3rd grade. The math tells me it was 26 or 27 years ago, but since I’m only 29, that’ can’t be right. That was back in the Zwolle season of my life (as opposed to my LSMSA season or my college season or my wife & mother season).
I remember being in the old school building, at the base of the stairs in Mrs. Hall’s class. I remember Angela and Terri and Robyn and Debra and Carla and Shelly and Jana. (I really wish I could find a picture to share.) I remember vinyl records singing out multiplication facts and individual old-school desks lined up in rows. I remember the chicken pox. Those little red bumps just moved their way systematically down our row. My biggest concern was which doll I played with and I had no idea that other people wouldn’t always like me.
I wonder what my daughter will remember about the 3rd grade. Will she remember her devestation when she got moved to a desk between the boys? Will she remember the games of tag, all the books she read, and those pesky timed tests? Will she remember the hours at the pool or at the piano? Will she remember the learning carnival or her first pedicure? Will she remember seeing her little brother at school everyday?
It’s funny what we forget 25+ years later, but I know this—friendships find a way to always stay in our minds. I know that no matter what, she will always have a fond memory of Faith and Eden and Jaycee and Abby and Emily.
Third grade was a big year—straight As, state piano competition, school choir, top reader, swim team. Wow!
