Wednesday Morning Rambles

11:00 a.m. and I'm on my second plastic tumbler full of coffee.

I do not care for coffee mugs.  Never use them.  Three reasons for this:

1.)     Coffee mugs are generally made of ceramic, or some other substance that is most assuredly breakable, and likely not to survive a fall of 3 feet,
2.)     They are very sloshy, and do not come with lids.  (I am a slosher.  The fact that our white couch is now just a dingy gray, as opposed to a soft mocha-cream, is a minor miracle, and further proof for the theory that faeries not only exist, but intervene on our behalf on a regular basis.)
3.)     Coffee mugs typically do not hold as much coffee as I plan on drinking. 

So I'm slurping my legal stimulant, and trying desperately to get in the correct frame of mind to face this day.

It is rainy outside, and my toes are cold.

This is significant because cold toes mean a desire for warm, snuggy socks.  Rainy, dreary days mean a desire to curl into the fetal position, inside a nest of blankets, and marathon-nap.  These two things combined could be the death blow to a productive day.  Which is why I am slurping coffee barefooted right now.

Fight the power.

The next order of business is to get the Took a nap, get myself presentable-looking, and meet with Pad's mom early this afternoon for Parent-Teacher Conference #2.

It is not something that I am eagerly anticipating.

Primarily because I have been worrying about this since Conference #1.  Though I am quite surprised to report this, I believe in giving credit where credit is due, and I am happy to say that Pad's mom has actually been following through with doling out guidelines for the younger master, and has been sticking to some semblance of a schedule for him.

I never thought I'd see the day.

Seriously.

And by all accounts, his behavior at home has improved significantly.

Which is why we're all . . . not exactly 'shocked', but certainly dismayed, to learn that this has NOT translated into acceptable behavior at school.

I'm worried about him.  It's as simple as that.  I won't go into details, but I feel as though his intellectual growth is unintentionally being hobbled.  This is a source of GREAT concern to both me and his father.

Another surreal element to today is. . . this is my SECOND Parent Teacher Conference. . .

And. . . I don't know exactly how to express my feelings about it. . . so I'll just say this:

Parent Teacher Conferences are HUGE.

They are Big News.

They call you to the school.  They expect you to show up, be presentable, and (most importantly) be an ADULT.

They just take it as a given that you will show up and be an adult.

And, in situations like this. . . I usually spend the entire time worrying that my Adult mask is going to slip, and I am going to be revealed for the impostor that I am.

Scene:  Me, Michael, Pad's Mom, and Teacher, sitting around a tiny circular table in a kindergarten classroom, discussing Pad's behavior and work ethic.

Teacher:  "Blah blah blah, he's not showing proficiency with crayons, and his scissor-use is barely above a level 2, blah blah blah. . ."

Michael:  **listening intently, and asking pertinent questions**

Pad's Mom:  (Not a clue.  I have NO idea what goes on in this woman's mind half the time.  Not even going to hazard a guess. . . )

Me:  (Studying the children's artwork that is taped up all along the huge painted bricks that every children's classroom everywhere is made up of)  I could SO do better than that. . . these children have no talent at ALL. . .  I mean seriously. . .  Just the fact that the teacher wanted them to trace their own hands shows a COMPLETE lack of vision. . .   The traced hand??  It has been done to DEATH. . .   Hmm. . . those puzzles look like fun. . .  OH!!!  They have a kitchen!!  . . .  I wonder if they still have all the parts to the oven, or if half of them are lost. . .  it could be---

Teacher:  ". . .And so he's really showing no interest at all in what I have to say."

Me:  "Oh.  Wow.  That's bad.  Have you tried hitting him?  Because sometimes we hit him, and it generally keeps him quiet for at least an hour."

Teacher:  "???!!??"

(At this point it occurs to me that kindergarten teachers are roughly the equivalent of Sunday School teachers:  Kind enough, in their own way, but completely lacking a discernible sense of humor.)

Shit.

It is always about 25 seconds too late that I remember important facts like this.

Which is why it is GREAT if you have a toddler that you can carry with you, in the event of an awkward social situation.

Me:  "Oh!  Would you look at that?  Baby's wet.  Excuse me please."

And then you can gracefully make a hasty retreat.

It works every time.

If you don't HAVE a baby. . . I guess you could use a dog.  In a diaper.  But teachers, and most authority figures in general, tend to frown upon people that take their dogs everywhere.  Except for blind people.  Or hell, maybe they frown on blind people too, I don't know.  The blind people would never know, after all.  (You can't 'hear' a frown.)  And I've found that kindergarten teachers can be a judgemental bunch. . .

So the point is, if you DON'T have a baby, and you're not comfortable using a dog, then you're probably just shit out of luck, and are going to have to sit there with your husband and teacher and baby-momma for the duration of the conference.

Sorry.

Which brings me to my second point:  Parent Teacher Conferences suck.

That's it.  No silver lining.  They just suck.

And the chairs are tiny.

And everything smells like pencils.

And little kids are fairly smelly in their own right.

And I think I either need a nap, or more coffee.

And Michael needs to use the computer now.

And somebody BETTER take me to McDonald's after this is all over.

The end.