A Pre-Conference Letter: Part Deux

Dear Hoover's Teacher:

I know the school has mandatory conferences in the fall and "teacher recommended" ones in February, I've just never been to one of the latter. And quite honestly, I'm feeling like I've been called to the principal's office. This letter is a little different than the one in October. I'm more worried for Hoover than I am for myself.

Because I've never had a "teacher recommended" conference before, I'm unsure as to what I should expect. I know Hoover has had his share of problems this year, from the crying about broken crayons, to pouting under the table, and even a laceration to the finger that scared your office worker because, unbeknownst to her, he was playing with purple marker minutes before and got some on the finger he later cut. I have but two words for you: Have Mercy.

I volunteer in your class one or two mornings a month and I see how things work. I know Hoover is a, ahem, strong-willed child, but I've seen the other kids in your class. Quite honestly, you have bigger fish to fry than him. Should I be proud or worried?

Is it because he's the middle child he's seemingly reaching out like a flesh-starved zombie for attention? Is it being in the shadow of the very bright Larry Potter that's doing him in? Can I blame Spongebob for any of this? These are all legitimate questions I've thought of today, as I was in your class earlier today and had a sort of pre-conference conference.

*May cause bad manners, horrible vocabulary, and superfluous meetings with kindergarten teachers.

I know he's a bright boy and a good kid at heart. I know you feel the same way. When I volunteer in your class and LP's, I see the kids that require special aids and office-intervention for when they start to lash out. My son isn't at that point, but I'm afraid if we don't get a handle on things now, I'll be sitting outside Juvy by third grade.

And as if it weren't enough being at school today and witnessing one of my son's stand-offs, I ran into the gym teacher in the office as I was leaving. He told me that Hoover was very confrontational and a poor sport. Awesome. Just what I'd like to hear.

I've told you this story before, but it's worth repeating. When LP was 3 1/2 and Hoover was 8 months old, I checked a book out of the library called "Parenting the Strong-Willed Child," because LP was testing his limits. In the book, it said you can tell if a child is strong-willed from the time he or she is a baby. Then, there was the checklist. Holy Shark, I was reading this for the wrong kid. At 8 months old, I knew this. This is one of those times that the phrase "Knowing is half the battle" isn't applicable.

My five-year-old isn't happy at school, and if you don't like school in kindergarten, then the rest of school isn't going to get much better. It makes me very sad, and yet at the same time, I admire his resolve to make people listen to him.

So, in two hours, I'll be sitting in a little chair, talking to you about what to do about my son. I hope you don't mind the alcohol on my breath; I find it dulls the pain of reality.

Waiting for the second batch of finger paint to hit the fan,
The Snarky Mom