So, apparently, my children are gifted.
It's funny. It's funny how we see ourselves so differently from how other people see us. And it's funny how we see our children so differently from how other people see them.
Or maybe that's just me.
My daughter got the equivalent of all A's and B's on her report card. I hate to admit it, because it shows how very much I am like my father, but I was disappointed. She's smarter than that. She's let her deplorable handwriting hinder her grades in both math and language.
My son's report card was excellent, except that he can't tie his shoes and has trouble with fine motor skills. And he has trouble relaxing. He's so intense. Usually intensely happy, but still intense.
Today I went to school for their Parent/Teacher Conferences.
While I've been caught up in my daughter's struggle to be neat and organized, her teacher is over the moon about how creative she is. All I can see is how my daughter doesn't apply herself enough and here's her teacher telling me that she is gifted.
My daughter is a gifted writer.
And my son, well I always knew that he was especially good at math, but apparently he really is gifted. But not just at math. No, he apparently excels at reading too. He's the "most expressive" reader in the class. There are certain concepts that he has been the only child in the class to grasp.
While I've been caught up in his bed wetting, shaky handwriting, and untied shoes he was busy being all gifted at school.
How could I not have realized all this? What does that say about me as a mother? Is this normal?
Above all else, both of their teachers couldn't say enough good things about their character. My daughter is apparently the sweetest, most polite, most consciences, most empathetic child her veteran teacher has ever had the pleasure to teach. My son is apparently the sweetest, most polite, most consciences, most empathetic child his veteran teacher has ever seen. And he's popular to boot. In fact they are both "very well liked" and "very happy".
I know I have good kids, but we have struggles. My son has been just awful at home lately. To hear that none of this has carried over in to school is a huge relief.
But my daughter's teacher told me something that almost made me weep with joy. Apparently the girl who cries everyday hasn't been crying at school. In fact, her teacher doesn't think she's overly sensitive at all. She said, "She hasn't cried once this year."
Are you kidding me? Whose child do you have mine confused with? She hasn't had one single break down? Really?
Could it be that she has finally grown up? Could it be that she has finally caught up with her peers? Could it be that the fairies came and switched the real human child to whom I gave birth back with their own changeling?
Now if she could just manage to pick up the ring of debris that her teacher says is constantly around her desk, I'll consider myself a not-horrible parent.
I wish their dad could have been here to hear all of that today. He would have wept in relief too.
My kids are at a friends house until after noon today. I'm going to take the next couple of hours and bask in this rare feeling of parental confidence.