Parent-teacher conference. Boy, those can be words to strike fear into a parent’s heart! After nearly 25 years of raising boys, I can’t even count the number of parent-teacher conferences I’ve had to sit through. The High School ones are the worst when you’ve got half a dozen different teachers to visit and a gym full of parents.
The funny thing is, all three of my boys are so darn much alike, I’ve practically memorized the whole spiel:
- Terrific in English
- Good in Math
- Decent in Science and History
- Average speller
- Lousy handwriting
- and TALKS TOO MUCH!!!
I have never had even ONE conference where they didn’t mention this little tidbit. Of course they put it in teacher terms – “visits excessively with his neighbors” or something like that, but what they’re really trying to say is “would you object terribly if I put duct tape over his mouth??”
They are preaching to the choir, honey! Don’t forget that I have lived with these boys for their entire lives and I not only live with them, I live with their FATHER, who is the worst one of all!
I swear sometimes I think my ears are going to bleed these guys talk SO much! And the funny thing is that they all need to talk to ME. It doesn’t matter if I’m sleeping, eating, watching TV, or typing on my computer, one of them is talking to me virtually at all times (yes, including right now!)
The other day, I nearly threw my cell phone out the window. I was at work, working on a big project with a tight deadline and they called me NINE times in one afternoon – arggghhh!
It would be helpful if they were at least telling me something I want to hear, but most of it is complete gibberish, at least from my point of view. Blake wants to tell me about his video games, Star Wars, and anything about Egypt, Matt wants to tell me about music, guitars, and musicians, and Tony wants to tell me bad jokes and every tiny little tidbit of what goes on at his work (not much!). And usually all at once!
I get pretty good at half listening and nodding in various directions while my eyes glaze over. Gets me in trouble sometimes when I realize I’ve agreed to host a sleepover for six kids, or a trip to the mall for the latest video game. Oh well. At least their teachers have to deal with them for part of the day…