"It wasn't what I thought it would be like," she says. "I'm really used to it now. I do the same things every week."

Looking back, I think I learned as much from kindergarten as Abby did. It's a milestone that's much more than the sum of its parts, yet it's hard to describe without breaking it down. Here's a glossary of our kindergarten experience, from A to Z.

Animals: Caterpillars hatched into butterflies; salamanders were captured and studied. Now Abby has taken up bird watching and playing veterinarian with her stuffed animals.

Be Sure Chair: This is something we could all use. It's where you go, Abby says, "to think about if you did the wrong choice. You think about things you should have done."

Curiosity: Her questions range from "Why is the sky blue?" to "Why can't men have babies?"

Drawing: with no inhibitions, not caring if she's the only one who can see what's in the pictures.

Experiments: "It's cool because you get to make predictions," Abby says, describing how the class dropped dirty pennies into various solutions to see which concoction would clean the penny best.

Field trips: From a pumpkin patch in Schoharie County to an environmental center in Sherburne, she's traveled to more new places in 10 months than I've visited in five years.

Giving: I received my first homemade Mother's Day gift this year, a red pencil-holder.

House Corner: a classroom world of dress-up clothes and plastic foods that reminds me of one of life's greatest ironies: how children long to be grown-ups, while adults just want to be kids again.

Independence: manifested in the phrase "I can do it myself!"

Junie B. Jones: our favorite fictional kindergartner, who has entertained us in a series of books with her sarcastic wit and knack for getting into trouble.

Knowledge: Tidbits of information — about everything from bugs to classical composers — come home every day.

Letting go: I think I'm finally starting to get it.

Music: Abby comes home singing songs and clapping rhythms; I've begun playing the piano after a 10-year hiatus.

Nature: The curriculum has included picking apples in an orchard, exploring pond life, hiking and seeing how maple syrup is made.

Observations: Abby notices everything, from a ladybug on a blade of grass to the fact that I've forgotten to extract the latest drawing from her backpack.

Persistence: helped Abby conquer tasks she couldn't do in September: tie her sneakers, make a 5 and slide down the pole on the playground.

Quick action: She's learned not to dilly-dally getting dressed for school; I've learned to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in 30 seconds.

Rhymes: "Around the tree, around the tree, makes a three" helped Abby learn to write numbers.

Stations: Scooters, T-ball and soccer are some of the gym stations Abby loves. I tried the concept and found my winter workouts were a lot more fun when I could switch from the weights to the fitness ball to the mini-trampoline.

Teachers: One day, Abby had a substitute teacher. "Was she nice?" I asked. "All teachers are nice," she said matter-of-factly.

Unforgettable: the moment when Abby ran into my arms, cheeks flushed and grinning, after her first school performance.

Variety: While I sat at my desk answering phones and editing news briefs, Abby counted by 10s, played on the tire swing, read a book, drew two pictures, played a computer game and made a salad out of grass, leaves, wood chips and rocks.

Wigglers: loose teeth, which get charted on a classroom graph when they fall out. Abby had three this year.

X's and O's: I've learned to sneak these in quickly each morning, while I still can.

Year: 365 days that seem to go by faster every time.

Zzzz's: what a happy, tired kindergartner gets as soon as her head hits the pillow. "I just closed my eyes, and all of a sudden, it was morning," she explains.

I, too, have enjoyed the sound sleep of the post-midnight-feeding-and-bed-wetting years. I try not to take it for granted. In about 10 years, I suspect, the typical teenager worries will have me tossing and turning.

Perhaps, on those sleepless nights, I'll take comfort in my kindergarten memories.

Lisa Miller is a freelance writer who lives in Oneonta. She can be reached by e-mail at lisamiller44@hotmail.com.