After the whole "69 on a Kindergarten spelling test after a week of vacation" debacle last week, you can imagine my surprise when Quinlan came home on Friday to tell me that she had won her class spelling bee.
That was after I got over the surprise that she had a spelling bee. Apparently this whole "mommy's out of the know" thing starts very early, which is more disconcerting than I expected, especially since I clearly remember knowing all of her business and now, surprise! A spelling bee! That you didn't know about mom!
Next thing I know, she'll walk in with a nose piercing.
So in winning the spelling bee, she was off to compete against first graders using the same word bank, and then "against" the other kids in the K-8 school, using her own word bank in a sort of compete against yourself type competition.
And with that, we got to work for the next five days quizzing our little almost-reader with over 100 words in preparation for the big spelling bee.
Boy, is our language fucked up.
After enduring my feeble attempts at explaining why "Tuesday" is not spelled "Toosday," along with other pretty piss poor pneumonic devices for sight words, she headed to school this morning armed with as many words memorized as she possibly could.
And much to our amazement, she placed third out of all sixteen competing students across all the grades.
I found myself completely overflowing with emotion, not just from being so incredibly proud at her achievement, but from realizing that my little girl is growing up.
And damnit, I won't be able to secretly spell stuff anymore.