My 6-Year-Old Can’t Tell Me What He Did At School, And I’m Wondering If I’m Alone In This
I leaned against the car rail after school today, sun in my eyes, and when he trundled out holding his glue-sticky artwork crumpled in his backpack, I did the same thing I do every day. I asked, “What did you do today?” He shrugged, kicked a rock across the parking lot, and said, “Stuff.” Same as Monday. Same as last week. I sighed, helped him buckle his seatbelt, and didn’t push. But on the drive home, I kept thinking about the note the teacher sent home yesterday, about how he struggled to recall the vowel sounds they’d practiced that same morning during reading group. That’s when it hit me this isn’t just the usual “kid doesn’t want to talk to mom after school” thing. This is this thing he does, with immediate recall, and it’s showing up both in class and in those little everyday conversations I thought we’d be having by now.
Two weeks ago we had our first parent-teacher conference. She said he’s sweet, he gets along with the other kids, he follows directions fine when she walks him through it step by step. But when she calls on him right after explaining a new concept? Blank. When the whole class has to share one thing they did over the weekend after morning circle? He just sits there twisting the edge of his rug just like he twists the hole in the elbow of his favorite dinosaur sweatshirt at home, and says he can’t remember. I nodded along, but inside I was thinking, that’s exactly what he does with me. Last month I ran into his classmate’s mom at the grocery store, and she started gushing about the dinosaur dig the kindergarten classes did on the playground that Friday. “Did your son tell you how they buried plastic bones and everything?” she asked, all excited. I just stood there holding a leaking carton of oat milk, smiling so hard my cheeks hurt, because my son hadn’t mentioned a single thing about it. I got home that night and asked him, and he just blinked and said “What dinosaur dig?” Three days later, we were eating cherry popsicles on the porch, sticky juice running down our wrists, and he just out of nowhere started telling me about how he found the T-Rex tooth and got a sparkly dinosaur sticker for it. Like it had just been sitting in his brain, waiting for the right time to come out, not when someone was standing there asking for it.
Homework is the worst, honestly. We sit down at the kitchen table right after snack, like the teacher suggested, to get it done quick. Last week it was a sheet of adding with little pictures of red and green apples. I pointed to the first one, said “You learned this today, right? Two plus three, how many is that?” He just stared at the paper, picked at a crumb of goldfish cracker on the table, and said “I don’t remember.” I could feel my temper starting to tick up, because how do you not remember what you did six hours ago? I kept pushing, and he got that wobbly lip he gets when he’s overwhelmed, and said he didn’t know, can we stop now. I sent him off to play with his Lego cars, figured we’d try again later. Twenty minutes later I was folding laundry on the couch, and he climbed up next to me, holding the crumpled homework sheet, and just went “Two plus three is five, duh, that’s easy.” Did the whole sheet in five minutes, no mistakes. I just sat there, holding a pair of my stretched-out gym socks, confused. It’s not that he doesn’t know it. It’s that when you ask him for it right now, immediately, it’s like his brain closes the drawer on it and won’t open it back up until it’s good and ready.
I’ve tried all the things, you know? The stuff people post on the mom groups, how you shouldn’t ask “what did you do” you should ask specific questions. “Who did you play with at recess?” “What did you have for snack?” “What’s something that made you laugh today?” Nada. Most of the time it’s just a shrug. I tried not asking at all for a whole three days, just rambled about my own day, complained about how the mail was late, pointed out the weird fluffy dog we saw on the walk, and wouldn’t you know, he told me more those three days than he had all the previous week. But I still forget, sometimes, when I’m curious and I just want to know what he’s been up to all day, and I ask, and it’s like hitting a soft brick wall. My husband says he was exactly like this as a kid. Said his mom used to get so mad at him because he’d never be able to tell her what he did at school, and when the teacher asked him a question right after a lesson, his mind just went completely empty. He still does it, actually, if I ask him what he wants for dinner right after he walks in the door from work, he just says “I don’t know” even if he’s been craving tacos all week. Says his brain needs a minute to switch gears.
I know he’s 6. I know kids develop at different rates. Part of me thinks this is just how his brain works, and it’s fine, he’ll outgrow it, or he’ll learn how to work with it. But another part of me, the quiet 2 a.m. part, wonders if I’m missing something. If I should be pushing more, or less, or doing some kind of little exercises to help him pull memories out faster. I see the other kids his age that the other parents post about, coming home and singing the entire song they learned that day, telling their moms every little detail of the playground drama, and I feel a little left out, like I’m doing this wrong.
I don’t need anyone to tell me “it’s totally normal” or give me a list of five tricks to fix it, honestly. I just want to know if any other parents out there have a kid like this. A kid that can’t pull the memory out when you ask for it right away, but will spill it all randomly when you’re not even asking. A kid that aces the homework an hour later but can’t recall a single thing when you sit down to do it right after school. It’s so weird, navigating this, and most days I just feel like I’m fumbling through it. Today after we got home, we were making peanut butter toast, and he just randomly said, “We played tag at recess and I caught Mia.” That was it, one little sentence, and then he went back to spreading jelly too thick and getting crumbs in the butter. I’ll take it, I guess. But I still wonder. Am I the only one?
Please indicate: Thinking In Educating » My 6-Year-Old Can’t Tell Me What He Did At School, And I’m Wondering If I’m Alone In This