No more p/t conferences...ever!
Last night was a monumental occasion in our lives – one that brought great joy to the Lovely Mrs. G. and I. (And Miss Katie, too – I’m sure.)
It was our very last parent/teacher conference. EVER.
Yes, our delightful little girl is now a high school senior, and in about 6 ½ weeks from this moment she will be (knock on wood) a graduate of the Sioux City Public School System. Hoo-frickin-ray!
So last night the Lovely Mrs. G. and I trogged into the high school and sat down for our semi-annual conference/scolding for the very last time. 13 years of having to smile through conferences. 13 years of report cards. 13 years of my getting mad because my little angel wasn’t turning in her homework on time or paying attention in class. We’re done, we’re done, we’re done. Hallelujah and saints be praised!
Truth be told, I didn’t particularly enjoy p/t conferences much when I was a kid, either. Back then, it was only our cranky old teachers and our mother, and us kids weren’t invited to be there to witness the pain and/or humiliation. For me, every year, it was the same damn comment: “Tommy has a tendency to show off for the other kids.” My mother would just roll her eyes and beg forgiveness for her “diamond-in-the-rough” little boy with the overwhelming need to be the center of attention 24/7.
True celebrity is never recognized. Or celebrated.
Anyway, I have to wonder: Does anyone actually enjoy the whole parent/teacher confab thing? I highly doubt it. I know as a father my stomach knots up every single time I have to go to one, the teachers always seem like they’d rather be somewhere – anywhere – else, and Miss Katie loves to point out that I always scowl during them. But I smiled wide last night – it was the look of a guy who is free at last. Heh, heh, you poor suckers with more school aged kids – come closer let your jealousy shine!
This is actually the second major celebration we’ve had in regards to Miss Katie’s schooling – at the end of 8th grade, when Miss Katie decided to give up the clarinet to focus on show choir and drama instead, Mrs. G. and I danced the victory dance of never having to sit through another junior high band concert/torture session again. Believe me - after 3 hours of offkey screeching of violins and trumpets, you would be willing to confess to just about any atrocity if it meant being able to get up off those awful wooden middle school seats.
So there’s no more "band ass", and no more parent/teacher conference ulcers. Could it be any better? I don’t think so.
Still, a (very small) part of me will miss squeezing my butt into a little chair and trying to pull myself up closer to a table that’s only 2 feet off the ground to admire a stack of glitter and crayon-filled pages created by my child. "Look, honey – our little girl made that!" And yes – I’d love Miss Katie no matter what type of student she was – straight A, or somewhere further down the “room for improvement” road. But knowing that I’ve been paroled from p/t conference prison? That makes it all the more brighter.
Graduation is May 23. I’m hoping the junior high band won’t play.
It was our very last parent/teacher conference. EVER.
Yes, our delightful little girl is now a high school senior, and in about 6 ½ weeks from this moment she will be (knock on wood) a graduate of the Sioux City Public School System. Hoo-frickin-ray!
So last night the Lovely Mrs. G. and I trogged into the high school and sat down for our semi-annual conference/scolding for the very last time. 13 years of having to smile through conferences. 13 years of report cards. 13 years of my getting mad because my little angel wasn’t turning in her homework on time or paying attention in class. We’re done, we’re done, we’re done. Hallelujah and saints be praised!
Truth be told, I didn’t particularly enjoy p/t conferences much when I was a kid, either. Back then, it was only our cranky old teachers and our mother, and us kids weren’t invited to be there to witness the pain and/or humiliation. For me, every year, it was the same damn comment: “Tommy has a tendency to show off for the other kids.” My mother would just roll her eyes and beg forgiveness for her “diamond-in-the-rough” little boy with the overwhelming need to be the center of attention 24/7.
True celebrity is never recognized. Or celebrated.
Anyway, I have to wonder: Does anyone actually enjoy the whole parent/teacher confab thing? I highly doubt it. I know as a father my stomach knots up every single time I have to go to one, the teachers always seem like they’d rather be somewhere – anywhere – else, and Miss Katie loves to point out that I always scowl during them. But I smiled wide last night – it was the look of a guy who is free at last. Heh, heh, you poor suckers with more school aged kids – come closer let your jealousy shine!
This is actually the second major celebration we’ve had in regards to Miss Katie’s schooling – at the end of 8th grade, when Miss Katie decided to give up the clarinet to focus on show choir and drama instead, Mrs. G. and I danced the victory dance of never having to sit through another junior high band concert/torture session again. Believe me - after 3 hours of offkey screeching of violins and trumpets, you would be willing to confess to just about any atrocity if it meant being able to get up off those awful wooden middle school seats.
So there’s no more "band ass", and no more parent/teacher conference ulcers. Could it be any better? I don’t think so.
Still, a (very small) part of me will miss squeezing my butt into a little chair and trying to pull myself up closer to a table that’s only 2 feet off the ground to admire a stack of glitter and crayon-filled pages created by my child. "Look, honey – our little girl made that!" And yes – I’d love Miss Katie no matter what type of student she was – straight A, or somewhere further down the “room for improvement” road. But knowing that I’ve been paroled from p/t conference prison? That makes it all the more brighter.
Graduation is May 23. I’m hoping the junior high band won’t play.
posted by Tommy G at
9:51 AM
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