Conferences Bring Out The Worst In Me

I have a love hate relationship with parent teacher conferences. I have been blessed with two really good kids and our conferences are the same every time. We sit down, introduce ourselves, the teachers tell us we have a really good kid, no problems at all, do we have any questions? Um, no. I don't have any questions. If I did, the teacher already heard from me because I do not believe in waiting for a conference 2 months into the school year. I address my concerns as they happen.

My husband questioned why we were even going. This year, with two kids at high school, we had 12 teachers and two advisers to sit down with and zero desire to split the list in half and met up at the end to compare notes. We hear the same thing every year, this year times 14, so why go?

I go because I am my child's advocate. I go because I want each teacher who interacts with my child to know that I am listening to what my child says about their day. I am paying attention to their school work. I am watching. I am an intense ball of fierceness, camouflaged by the cuteness of a fluffy kitten.

In the good old days of elementary school, we would show up at our assigned time and there was no question of picking this teacher or that teacher to visit. High school is different. It's an open forum, with teachers spread out all over campus, a map to guide you around and a teacher on the second floor B wing completely across the school from a teacher in the auxiliary gym, and both are teachers you'd like to visit. It's planning which teachers are at the top of your must see list and cross checking that with who has a shorter line.

And the lines. Oy! The lines.

I'm so thankful that we have the opportunity to meet with our children's high school teachers, but I hate the lines and the waiting in the lines and the prideful embarrassment I glow with when we wait in line for 30 minutes to sit at the table for a minute because the teacher has no concerns with our good kid.

Okay, that's a lie. I love that glow of prideful embarrassment. I've got good kids! I'm bursting with pride over them! And I want everyone else to know it.

Yep, I'm not only a fierce kitten ready to rumble over any slight to my child, I'm one who wants to rub other parents noses in the knowledge that my kids are super fantastic!

Conferences might bring out the worst in me.