Parent/Teacher Conference

When I went to my first parent/teacher conference at The Boy’s school, his teacher pretty much told me what I expected. He was pretty much where they expected him to be. Right in the middle of the pack. I was fine with that. He’s just in kindergarten after all, and at this point I’m much more worried about setting him up to love school rather than making sure he’s reading by a specific age.

But at today’s conference, I started to get a bit worried. He’s shown improvement, but not much. And there are some areas that he was excelling in originally that are now falling off. He’s kind of always treated language with a bit of distain. As if he didn’t really understand why it was all that important. He had these appendages after all, using them and going really fast were much more important than talking about playing. He’s a doer, not a talker. Which is fine, he’s a boy and I suppose that is somewhat typical.

It also speaks to the main disconnect between my son and I. Words and language have always been central to my identity. I taught myself to read when I was 4 because I was tired of not understanding all the writing on the walls. I was reading Shakespeare in first and second grade. I was writing my first short stories in kindergarten. As you can tell, my love for all things written has only grown with time. So there is a part of me that just flat doesn’t get him in this respect. And that makes it very hard to help him.

I guess right now I’m most worried about not having the tools necessary to help my son. I desperately want him to love learning and to have confidence in his intelligence. I don’t so much care if he winds up with some label as long as that label gives us the tools to help him reach his potential, whatever that may be. I want to help him figure out how he learns. I want what every mother wants. For my son to be happy and successful. For me to have helped, not hindered him.