Second grade is the perfect age in childhood.
They’re not in preschool, crossing the bridge from toddler to big kid and growing up right before your eyes.
They’re not the littlest kindergartener, making you sob as you watch your heart walk into that brick building that seems entirely too big for their tiny bodies.
They’re not the “new here” first graders, learning to tie shoelaces and read and remember their phone numbers and climb on playground equipment they are still, thankfully, a bit too small for.
No. Second graders are taller, smarter, funnier, and endlessly curious about themselves, each other, and the world.
Second graders navigate math and monkey bars.
Second graders are learning to tell time and count coins.
Second graders can read chapter books and facial expressions.
Second graders will crack you up with a hilarious joke one minute and break your heart with their kindness in the next. These kids, not the smallest and by far not the biggest, are making their way in the world one sure step at a time.
One gray and dreary morning, my second grader asked for cupcakes for breakfast. “Cupcakes?” I asked him. “As in, more than one cupcake for breakfast?” He looked at me with a sweetness mirrored in the frosting he so desperately craved and said, “Why not? It’s Tuesday!”
That’s the thing about second graders. Every day is a reason to celebrate. And why wouldn’t we have cupcakes for breakfast, just because it’s Tuesday?
So I did a crazy thing. I gave a resounding yes, and pulled out two cupcakes, two plates, and two napkins. Together, we devoured those cupcakes, buttercream first, my second grader and me.
Then he blew my mind for the second time before 8 a.m. He asked to check the seismology around the world today. “Any earthquakes happening right now, Mom? What was the biggest earthquake around the world while I was sleeping?” The things these kids are thinking about when they’re supposed to be going to bed are wild. Science lessons don’t settle into their brains until the moon comes out.
Not knowing the world’s most intense overnight earthquake off the top of my head (as one doesn’t, before coffee), I offered to look it up. We pulled out the computer and checked the map for seismic activity over the last 24 hours. My usually silly 8-year-old then proceeded to ask thoughtful, intelligent questions about the world, the people in it, and how everyone is connected.
It was a deep conversation before my latte had fully kicked in, but I was so grateful to be along for the ride.
He finished his cupcake, frosting all over his face and the table, washed up, and got himself dressed in his favorite character clothing, which I noticed was getting a size too small.
When he got to school, I received a message from his teacher: “I asked James how his morning was, and he said he’s having the best day ever because his mom gave him cupcakes and earthquakes for breakfast!”
There it is. My sweet little soul who can shake up the world. Changing hearts and minds with kindness, forging forward with endless curiosity, and probably with chocolate on his chin.
Second graders are awesome that way.