First Grade Feels So Much Harder Than It Used to Be

Or as we say here in Georgia: bless our hearts, these kids are learning things I don’t remember learning until middle school.

I don’t know exactly when it happened, but somewhere between finger painting and phonics, first grade quietly turned into advanced academics and nobody warned the parents.

First grade ain’t what it used to be!

These days?

Bless it.

Kindergarten feels like what first grade used to be, and first grade feels like we skipped straight to college prep.

And I realized it one afternoon while I was looking over worksheets Jessica brought home from school. My sweet seven-year-old child—who still sleeps with a stuffed animal and occasionally forgets where she left her shoes—is balancing equations.

Balancing. Equations. I’m sitting there thinking, Ma’am… I barely balance my checkbook.

Then we move to reading.

Not just reading a book. Oh no. She’s supposed to “make connections.”

Connection to self.

Connection to the world.

Connection to other texts.

Now listen… when I was in first grade my reading comprehension strategy was basically:

“Did the dog run away?”

“Yes.”

“Okay great, page two.”

But these kids are out here analyzing literature like tiny professors.

And on the next worksheet? Sentence diagramming.

Sentence. Diagramming.

I stared at that page like it personally offended me.

Subjects.

Predicates.

Lines and arrows pointing everywhere.

Meanwhile Jenna is sitting next to us coloring a unicorn and Nugget is trying to steal someone’s snack, and I’m wondering how we got here.

How did first grade turn into advanced placement grammar class?

Now don’t get me wrong. The teachers are incredible. Truly. The patience alone deserves a trophy and a Chick-fil-A gift card. But sometimes I look at these tiny humans with their backpacks half their body size and think…

They’re still little. They still need time to build forts, ride scooters around the neighborhood, make bracelets with their friends, and run around the yard.

Childhood shouldn’t feel like a race. Not for them. And honestly… not for us parents either. Because when Jessica curls up next to me at night and tells me about her day, she’s not talking about balancing equations or sentence structure.

She’s telling me about recess.

Who she sat next to at lunch.

And how Nugget licked her face when she got home.

That’s the stuff that sticks.

If your child has ever brought worksheets that made you question your entire education…

Go ahead and raise your hand, mama.

Because we’re all just doing our best, drinking our coffee, and hoping the dog doesn’t eat the homework before we figure it out.

And if he does?

Well…That’s between Nugget and the teacher.

Bless it.

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