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Standing on the East Coast, pointed toward California, and clicking my heels three times

Sunday, December 18, 2005

A Tale of Two Conferences

Last week was school conference week for both kids. My expectations for what was going to happen during those conferences was spot on. I approached the two conferences completely differently, and they gave me, I felt, a window into our future that sort of disturbs and saddens me.

Matthew's conference went very well, but in his case "very well" means hearing how much he's improved behaviorally, from the very dismal state things were in a couple of months ago. I mean, it truly is great how much his behavior has improved, but it sucks that we have to start from the bad place. It comes out like, he's not as horrible as he was! Yay!

This gets harder and harder to deal with as he gets older, which is ironic since he's gotten better and better over time. But the kind of things that are not so terrible, if not really acceptable, when a kid is four, become really really unacceptable at eight. Other kids become less and less forgiving of "weird" behavior; teachers naturally have higher expectations for daily behavior.

I just fear that this is our pattern, and it's going to continue for the rest of his childhood. The prospect of starting every single school year with a bad period, when he's tantruming in the classroom, and totally losing control, and making his teachers freak out about what to do about him, and *totally* screwing himself with the other kids so he'll never have any friends, is absolutely unbearable to think about.

And juxtaposed with Tessa, whose teacher, as expected, raved about how wonderful she is. The teacher went on about how she wishes she had 18 kids just like her, every year, and how she's not only excelling academically, but that she is a responsible student and a good friend to all the other children. I mean, I'm happy Tessa is so obviously suited for school and social life and being in the world, but at what point does it start to be painfully obvious to both Tessa and Matthew that they are worlds apart in their relations to other human beings? When does he start to feel left behind (as Tessa attended yet ANOTHER birthday party for a classmate today)? When does she start to feel embarassed by him (even more than the usual amount sisters are embarassed by their brothers)?

We used to joke that Tessa would always take care of Matthew, that he could live in her basement. But it's not funny anymore, as I watch the divide start to gape. When my expectation going into school conferences is that Matthew's teacher will talk about how he's improved from having been really difficult, and Tessa's teacher will talk about how she's just doing great, what does that say about my expectations for their futures in general?

I guess the rest of this post has already answered that.
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