And that's why we have chocolate AND vanilla . . .

Different strokes for different folks, and all that.

I've been inundated with emails and phone calls lately as a result of sharing my decision to put my twins in separate schools.  I think a quick little blogger entry, followed by Facebook and Twitter communiques might spread the news a bit more efficiently . . . and maybe even help a soul out there who might be facing similar decisions.

My hubby and I have been blessed with fraternal twin daughters.  They are truly the joy of my life.  Since the day we found out we were expecting twins (at the 20 week ultrasound), we pledged to treat them as individuals, not as a "unit."  Seldom have we dressed them alike, much to the frustration of the matching-frilly-"almost but not quite Jon Benet"-dress-buying grandparents.  Neither have we insisted on buying "two of everything," because quite frankly, their interests have developed along divergent lines.  And learning to share is a pretty good thing too.

Paige and Ellen have attended a public school in our city since Kindergarten.  They have been enrolled in an enriched academic "optional" program and both tested into the gifted program, called CLUE at their school.  Tom and I are lucky that they are so bright, but we do give credit to their Montessori preschool for helping to instill a love of learning and encouraging an inquisitive mind in both girls.  But as you might have guessed . . . .the similarities end right there.

Paige is a tall, confident, outgoing, people-pleasing socialite who never met a stranger and has the auditory recall of digital voice recorder.  The traditional third grade classroom where the teacher gives mini-lectures and stacks of homework is challenging and exciting to her.  She is highly competitive and has the tenacity of a bulldog.  (note:  yes, I realize that she is going to absolutely hate me when she is a teen.  We will butt heads like Memphians vote for the Fords . . . early and often).

Ellen, however, is an entirely different little creature.  She is petite, feisty but shy, fiercely independent, astonishingly creative and has the little girls' version of ADD-Highly Distractible.  You know . . . at any given moment, it can turn into a "rainbows and unicorns" moment when the mental vacation kicks in.  She is insanely gifted in math and art, and scored "Very Superior" in Perceptual Reasoning when her intelligence was tested by an educational psychologist using the Wechler Scale for Children.  But listening is difficult for her . . . . in addition to her ADD, she has dealt with both expressive and receptive language impairments.  Simply put, she does not process language quite the way the rest of us do.  It takes her a bit longer to make sense of auditory communication . . .and sometimes her syntax is awkward.  In fact, the psychologist volunteered "She may never be a trial attorney, but she'd make a heck of an architect!"  I literally laughed out loud when he said that and shared that she can spend hours building with Legos and Magnetix or looking at a pop-up coffee table book of Frank Lloyd Wright's major buildings that Santa brought her one year.

Which brings us to THIRD GRADE.  (cue the ominous sounding music . . . da-da-da-DA)

Like in many schools, third grade at our public school is where they "separate the men from the boys" or in our case, the auditory learners from the highly visual ones.  Paige is truly excelling.  If she brings home a paper that has less than a 95 on it, it's because she was docked points for leaving her name off.   The "A"s are just about automatic.   And in spite of having the Homework Maven for her teacher who assigns at least 50% more homework nightly than Ellen's teacher, Paige is still routinely finishing in half the time it takes Ellen.

Ellen was struggling to keep her head above water.  Her difficulties in organizing her work, remembering what to do and when, and keeping her focus was causing her to question her own intelligence.  She would be on the verge tears frequently during class according to her teacher.  She began having stomach-aches and not feel like eating dinner because of the nightly stress.  She was even having bad dreams.  But the real kicker for me was the night we reviewed the first report cards.  Of course Paige had the perfect report card, complete with the blue Principal's List Honor Roll ribbon attached.  Ellen's was a motley assortment of As, Bs, and mercy-Cs.  Ellen calmly looked at Paige's ribbon and said "Well, I guess I won't get one of those this year."  I asked her why she believed that, because she made fantastic grades in K-2.  She responded with calm resignation "Well, I was smart in the little grades and got those, but I'm not good at the big grades."

She was already deciding - and worse - accepting that this level of work was out her reach.  It broke my heart.  Just into a million, gadzillion pieces.

This is a child who could count to 100 by the time she was two and a half.  Who read a Scholastic Bob Book independently two weeks PRIOR to her fourth birthday.  Who skip-counted the keys on the piano aloud when she was three and a half.  Who was incorporating the concept of perspective into her little drawings by the time she was five . . . without anyone telling her to do it.  Who can create the most amazing computer-generated cartoons using the ALICE program from Carnegie Mellon.  Who now thinks that she isn't smart enough to succeed in third grade.

I've always said that God didn't just give these kids to me and Tom . . . He also gave us TO them.  It was time to really look at the school situation and do what is right for Ellen, convenience be damned.

I've always been a strong advocate of the Montessori method in early childhood education.  I attended a Montessori preschool and made sure that my girls also had that same experience.  Tom and I researched the application of the methodology in the elementary grades and decided to check out the local Montessori elementary schools.  We discovered a very small, fully accredited and affordable one just a stone's throw away from Paige's school.  We took a tour and were really pleased by what we saw.  Ellen spent a day visiting (and being observed by the staff as well) and enjoyed it.  But she didn't want to change schools.  She conceded that she was miserable at her public school, but only "a little miserable" in her own words.  She was afraid that they wouldn't have field trips and thought the playground wasn't big enough.  

So Tom asked her if she trusted Mommy and Daddy.  Tearfully, she said "No."  Then he asked, "Well, do you trust me?" (note:  she's a Daddy's Girl and occasionally wants to trade me in for a newer, shinier mommy who doesn't cook vegetables and thinks Little Debbie is a food group)  She looked up at him with her giant Windex-blue eyes and said "Well . . . maybe so."  He then told her that he remembered changing jobs once and wondering who he'd eat lunch with,  being bored for a few days until everything got settled,  and wondering if he'd miss his other office friends.  Then he assured her that he made new friends, had plenty of interesting things to do all day (okay, now I know what he looks like lying . . .LOL) and that he still talked to his old friends when he wanted.  She agreed to give it another try and came home the next day in love with her new school and already talking about her new friends.

So there you have it.  Who would have ever thought that our pledge to treat them as individuals would mean separate elementary schools with completely different approaches to instruction?  But it is all about looking at each child and giving each what they need to learn, grow, and make the most of their gifts.

I'm sure I'll update this blog with more info on the Montessori method, what Ellen and Paige are up to, and how the adjustment pans out.

Adios!