Your daddy and I -- with you and baby in tow -- went to our three-month parent-teacher conference yesterday after your class, and it went pretty well. I wish someone would take a picture of me and daddy, your teacher, your SLP and the stunning, hugely endowed Nordic Princess that is your principal sitting in the tiny little chairs pulled up to the tiny little table, reviewing handouts and signing paperwork, hunched over, with our knees up near our chins.
Things seem to be progressing nicely, you're definitely on track to transition to regular kindergarten year after next. Your speech therapist said she saw tons of improvement in language skills, and officially declared that language is NOT an issue, and she outlined her plans to get you on track with your speech issues. I still have a hard time wrapping my mind around the two different concepts -- language and speech.
I'm sure teachers say this to all the parents, but it still gave me a warm fuzzy to hear it: "We're not supposed to have favorites in class, but we really really love Jake." Miss C also said you're a good little helper, your behavior is exemplary, and you're smart as a whip.
When your daddy and I went over some of the smarty-pants things you do at home, like Googling cartoon characters and restaurants that you fancy, or reading books and such with us, they seemed genuinely and duly impressed.
We did mention that you had been acting out a bit at home lately, in the form of tantrums, and asked if you exhibited any of that at school, and they said no, but they said testing boundaries and behaviors typically starts at home first, and then maybe works its way into the school environment, if at all. She said she and her staff are great at handling that kind of stuff, though, and relish a challenge. Good to know.
I've met a couple moms who don't like this teacher much, and I suspect it's because she's a bit more business-like, maybe even a bit brusque, than the teacher she took over for last year. But I like her alot, maybe even *because* of her brusque-ness, with the parents. I want to know, in no uncertain terms, what's going on with you in class, and how you're doing, without any fluff or filler. Plus, I've seen her in action with you kids, and you all seem to adore her. And there's no arguing with success. Momma thinks you're the success story of teh century!
In other news, I saw my first bear yesterday. I was driving home from a meeting at the Lake, and there he was, on the side of the road somewhere between Cave Rock and Zephyr Cove. He was smallish, more than a cub, but less than an adult. He was swatting at a bag of garbage that someone had left out. I've lived here for eight years, and that was my first bear!
On a sad note, I missed Willy Vlautin's reading at the bookstore tonight. I was on deadline for that shite project that I managed to land myself in the middle of, and I just did not get it put to bed on time. If only I had gotten started an hour earlier this morning, I would've made it. But as it turned out, I finished up an hour after Willy started, so I didn't even bother driving downtown to see if I could at least get my book signed afterwards. He signed his first book for me last year, and that will have to be good enough. Dammit. Or as you would say, Jakey: "Dammit." I added insult to injury by listening to one of his albums on the way home.
To my dearest Kelly, sorry you have to work so hard. Sorry that you gained two pounds this week, despite eating like a frickin' bird and power-walking thru the park on hot days. Sorry that you've started smoking a couple of cigarettes in your car every morning. Sorry that I missed you. Next time for sure. Maybe we can meet for coffee at the Cal-Neva or lunch at Coney Island! -- Love, Willy
Heh.
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