The B.G.'s are genetic
We have a power-packed couple of weeks ahead of us in the house, and everyone is acting like their hair is on fire.
This week Mark and I are going to the elementary school to have parent/teacher conferences. Dylan's bowels are all in a twist at the thought of his beloved teacher ratting him out over the few times he colored outside of the lines. I'm not all that concerned with what she will say.
I remember hating the times when my parents would go to the school for the meetings. I was always so sure that they would come home and realize that I was the devil reincarnated.
"Calm and cooperative" is what the teachers told my parents. I don't know if it was my guilty conscience that made me believe that my teachers were lying to my parents to keep me alive, or if I was really "calm and cooperative."
The look on Dylan's face when we talk about going to the conference shows me that I was not alone in feeling this way. He's been cleaning his room without me asking first; he's offering to clear the table after dinner; he has been spending and extraordinary amount of time cleaning up his toys....
I feel for him.
This week Mark and I are going to the elementary school to have parent/teacher conferences. Dylan's bowels are all in a twist at the thought of his beloved teacher ratting him out over the few times he colored outside of the lines. I'm not all that concerned with what she will say.
I remember hating the times when my parents would go to the school for the meetings. I was always so sure that they would come home and realize that I was the devil reincarnated.
"Calm and cooperative" is what the teachers told my parents. I don't know if it was my guilty conscience that made me believe that my teachers were lying to my parents to keep me alive, or if I was really "calm and cooperative."
The look on Dylan's face when we talk about going to the conference shows me that I was not alone in feeling this way. He's been cleaning his room without me asking first; he's offering to clear the table after dinner; he has been spending and extraordinary amount of time cleaning up his toys....
I feel for him.
Labels: Dylan-ated, Schooled
posted by Sarah at
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
3 Comments:
That seems one to keep behind the ear. Forget about the naughty step and being good for Santa, bring on the (now) ad hoc parent/teacher meeting.
Four aces, read 'em and weep.
Poor kid. School is a land mine of irrational adult mood swings.
I feel for him too. You're not actually letting him clear the dinner table, are you?
Monty- the teachers will hate me after the meetings- I can feel it.
Joe- it most certainly is. And yes, he does clear the table. On Thursdays he helps with the laundry too. (His wife will thank me some day)
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