I’m Getting Old, Part I

Last week I got another reminder that I’m not as young as I used to be: Last week was parents/teacher conferences at my daughter’s school, our first conference as parents.

In the past, just hearing the phrases, “teacher conference”, or “report card day”, would give me that unmistakable feeling in the pit of my stomach. You see when I was in school nothing good ever came as a result of those phrases, and now they have re-entered my life.

My daughter is in Kindergarten, so it’s not like there would be any bad news shared with us or anything, but that didn’t keep me from being nervous. What would the teacher say? How does she compare with the other kids? Is she making friends? Does she talk too much? A dozen questions filled my head, which I suppose was a welcomed distraction from the bizarness of it all.

It turns out that my daughter’s teacher had nothing but positive things to say about her and the progress she is making. Not a day goes by that I’m not absolutely proud of my daughter, and marvel at how quickly she is growing into a bright, creative, expressive little girl.