Sometimes I wish my kids had been raised on a farm. Manual labor and working out of doors to promote health - check. Feeling like you contribute to the welfare of others (even if they are chickens) - check. The knowledge and confidence to fix broken stuff - check. Not time, literally, to worry about the un-necessary - check. Farms make for steady, capable, confident people.
But I don't.
It's hard to say if Grant is having trouble, or if I am. He has had some negative reports this last week. Abbie still hasn't recovered her lunchbox, and doesn't seem to think she was given a progress report. Grant, however, did receive one. Having worked in the school, I can pretty much guarantee that both kids were given progress reports on the same day.
Grant doesn't know how to talk to people. He only has one gear: PRESENTATION. He will come up to you and tell you how to do stuff, or tell you how other people do stuff, or how he does stuff, or, most often, the characteristics and capabilities of his imaginary creations or toys....but he doesn't seem to understand how to listen to other people. I have spoken to him about it. I even thought I put it in a way that he would understand:
"Grant, I need to you be a good observer. Watch the kids in your class, and see how they talk to each other, and their body language when they are talking." I can't remember what else I told him, because it was two weeks ago. But I made it sound like an experiment and an adventure. Both appealing to little Grants.
All I know is it wasn't a success. I find myself daydreaming about finding teachers to help him with conversation, since it would seem that he won't recognize it coming from me.
Anyway, I am feeling down.
I've never been asked to come in for the spring parent-teacher conference. Grants teacher has asked me to come in this time, and the Discovery teacher plans to attend. Starting to feel like the board meeting they sprang on me last time.
Also for the first time, I am leaving the kids at home with Josh during the conference. I can't decide whether or not to really, really speak my mind (now an option with no kids listening), or do my usual considerate helpful routine.
First version (old way): Yes. Yes, I understand. We've been working on that at home. Of course I know you have other students. Yes. I can see how that would be distracting. Of course I'll look into it. Thank you so much for all you do.
Second version (untried): Look, Lady. I asked for emails and didn't get them. He brings the notebook home like you told him to, but you don't write positive things like you claimed you would, to balance the negative. I've been in your classroom more than once, and have noticed no particular interest on your part in any of your students, and have seen no great jumps in the knowledge of my son. Potentially, it is not Grant's mother who is lacking. Seeing as how you are with him all day long and I am not, let me ask you....what are YOU doing about the problem. Allow me to give YOU a list of things you can do to improve.....yourself. So sorry that my kid is too smart for you. Don't worry. Thanks to your extremely disappointing teaching/attitude/perspective/effectiveness, my house is for sale.
Okay. We all know I would never say that. I'm already feeling guilty for making Grant's teacher cry. Which I haven't.
And the Discovery teacher will be there, too, so I won't have time for self indulgent anger. I have two people's worth of complaints to hear.
...about my little boy.
*weep*
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