Tomorrow morning is my very first in person, face to face, parent – teacher conference.
I am scared.
Scared like the kid – me – who skips school and realizes that even though I pick up the phone at home, they still called my Mom at work – scared.
Scared like when you miss a period and your wedding is a week away scared.
Now, I know that, at 4, my Katie could not have done anything that would land her in permanent detention just yet. And if she has – well… she won’t be in that school district next year anyway so who cares, but – there is still an imminent fear.
Maybe she is really badly raised. Worse than I already know.
What if that biting habit she had at 2 never really ended? And there are little 4 and 5 year olds, running around, grabbing their arms, scared to tell lest they be tattooed by the ever feared Katie, whose weapon is baby teeth that have an adults bite?
Or what if – oh my gosh – this is code for “Let us assess you as a parent and tell you how we would do it differently, you bonehead.”
Now, last year, I had a parent teacher phone call.
That was nice.
I bit my nails, guzzled coffee, scribbled asinine notes, and was secretly very, very happy to not have to do it in person.
But now I am a grown – up. A Mother to a 4 year old. And I have to sit across from Ms. Heidi -whom I LOVE!! (what?? she might be reading! Shhhhhhh ;)) – and listen to her tell me about my girl in school. I will be able to see body language, verbal innuendos and read between the proverbial lines.
And not stressful at all!
I plan on getting up in the morning and fixing my hair, putting on an outfit I did not already wear this week, and maybe even a spot of make-up.
I know better, of course, and will probably show up wrinkled, with bags under my eyes, late, and a Nestle Crunch stuck in my hair.
It is my look now. That – and deathly fear, of course.
And even though I will be transformed back to the principal’s office, only with a 1 year old distracting me this time, I will sit with my shoulder’s square, my hands still, and my legs crossed.
Listening, intently, as she tells me what my daughter is really like.
And hope no one is suing.