Yesterday, the dreaded note came home from school. Bailey handed it to me, after handing me her lunch box filled with half eaten food.

As an aside, do your kids bring home the half eaten food in their lunch box? Really, I don’t need a quarter of a sandwich back. I know for certain, that they have trash cans and recycling cans in the cafeteria.

The note was almost completely empty, except for the words: Please call me after 6pm this evening to discuss Bailey.

Um Noodle, did you get in trouble today? No. Are you sure? Yes mama. (Insert heavy sigh.)

Were you talking during quiet reading time? No.

How many stars did you have at the end of the day? Three. (Three is what they start with each morning.)

Hmmm, okay. I did what I always do, I freaked out. I called my husband and told him that either our kid was brilliant, or they were about to tell us how behind she is. I spent 20 minutes (at least) spazzing out in a chat with Liz. Both told me, oh she’s fine. You are worrying for nothing.

It’s hard though. I have a hard time not freaking out, first off, because it is my nature. Second, because a note with no info is not helpful. Mostly though, it’s because I’ve been worrying about Bailey lately. It’s hard not to compare the girls. There is no comparison though, in terms of academics. Morgan is so far advanced that it frightens me most days. When your first child has a huge IQ, you don’t know what is normal. What is average? What is considered behind? My girls are polar opposites, in every way imaginable. I don’t know what a normal five year old should be like academically. I don’t worry about Bailey in any other way. Or Morgan either. Academically however, I worry about Bailey. Have been for awhile. Comparing her to Morgan isn’t helpful. It’s impossible in fact.

Six rolled around and I called the teacher. Tried to breath and not freak out from the second she answered.

Turns out I had nothing to worry about. As I should have known, had I thought clearly for one solid minute. Which we know isn’t my strong suit.

At her table in class, Bailey sits with a girl who is deaf. The teacher is fluent in sign language and this girl was put next to Bailey, because Bailey is so easy going. (Gotta love a small school. Our teachers know the kids before they have them in class.) She made this girl, Bailey’s buddy. Each kindergartner has a buddy. The girl speaks and can hear some, as well as she reads lips and signs. None of this is the issue.

The teacher called to ask me if she could teach Bailey (as well as another girl) some sign language, during a free “activity table” time. Bailey and the other girl keep asking the teacher, what is the sign for this and what about that. They want to learn sign language and the teacher would love to teach them.

I was worried about nothing. Just another example of how my middle child is. A prime example of how amazing she is. I know this about her, but sometimes it still takes me by surprise.

Needless to say, Bailey and her friend are going to start signing lessons to be able to fully comminucate with their new best buddy.