We’ve all been there. You get the email (or the dreaded paper flyer in the backpack). Parent-Teacher Conferences: Sign up now.
But the moment I sit in that tiny plastic chair across from a woman who has spent 35 hours a week with my child, I revert to a puddle of insecurity. mama’s secret parent teacher conference
“Of course! We love being involved!” (Lie. We love leaving work early, but we do love knowing our kid isn't feral.) We’ve all been there
This is the secret moment. That first handshake. Is it firm? Does she look me in the eye? Or does she glance nervously at the stack of phonics flashcards? But the moment I sit in that tiny
Then I cry for three minutes. Not sad tears. Just the release of holding my breath for 15 hours straight. Then I buy a donut. Because I survived. Here is what I’ve learned after six years of these conferences.