To Every Time There is a Season

Ella has been in preschool for three years now, just barely missing the cutoff for kindergarten.  She has had wonderful preschool teachers, all of whom have been charmed by her charisma, love of insects, and her delightful personality.   She has loved Mrs.  Hall and Mrs. Khan, I can tell because every time I took her to preschool she ran up and hugged each teacher.

Mrs. Hall and Ella

Mrs. Khan and Ella

 This week was her last week of preschool.  I found myself being sad to say goodbye to her teachers.  Ella doesn't realize what wonderful teachers she has had, teachers her have encouraged her curiosity, invited her to bring in insects and bird nests and baby brothers to teach the class, asked her to bring her violin and books to show the class how she can play and read, respectively.  I am so grateful for teachers who love children and who enjoy teaching them.

Ella and I took flowers from our yard, dried them, and made cards for her teachers, telling them what Ella liked about them.  While we included a gift card to Target, it was in the card we made that we tried to tell them thanks for being wonderful teachers.

cards for Mrs. Hall and Mrs. Khan

Ella and McKenna

While it is the end of preschool, Ella is excited to be going to Kindergarten, because she will get to ride the bus and take field-trips.

The Writing on the Wall

It was late in the afternoon that I saw the hideous orange marker on the wall. Previously, the author, proud of her ability to write her name, had chosen the wall beside her bed to autograph. Now, there were some additional signatures, as well as her first sentence, "ellaizundreella'sbed".

Apparently, while I was shopping for our upcoming trip to Utah, Ryan had sent Ella to her room for time out. While there, she added some color to the wall. A few months ago, we learned that Ella knew how to read. And now, quite by accident, we know she know's how to write as well.

Unfortunately for her, she hasn't learned that when detailing a wall, anonymous author is the way to go. She was unhappy when she learned I was going to show people what she had written. She's afraid they will laugh at her. She covered the wall when I brought the camera in.