We had a parent-teacher conference this week. I was oddly nervous…like I was about to get in trouble or something. I don’t know. But anyway, we met with Lauren, Raines’ teacher. She described Raines as creative, a thinker, and an old soul. Funny how these same words come up to describe R, over and over again. But then she added that he sometimes has trouble getting his thoughts out.
Apparently, he thinks. And sort of struggles…to get his thoughts out? Or rather, he just takes his own sweet time making his point. He talks slowly. A slow talker.
We stare at Lauren, digesting this little tidbit. Mike clears his throat.
“Well….” he starts. Thinks. Then finally, “I’m not sure…I…really…don’t…see…that there’s actually….a problem…here.”
I can’t imagine where Raines gets it from.
Lauren (giggling) agreed that it probably isn’t a problem. “But he sometimes gets frustrated” she noted. “Because other kids don’t always wait for him to finish.”
Mike’s all, “Story of my life, Babe” and I’m all WHAT??? WHO DOESN’T LISTEN TO HIM? I WANT NAMES. NOW.
But it gets worse: Evidently, Raines walked up to a little girl in his class and asked her if he could play. Know what that b*tch said? NO. SHE SAID NO. To my baby.
Teacher Lauren was all, “Raines is so sensitive, and it’s soooo great because blah blah blah and the other kids who are just learning about empathy can directly see blah blah blah” and I couldn’t really hear or even see straight because all I could picture was my poor little man, with his feelings hurt, at school, where Mum couldn’t give him a hug and make it all better. Kill me now. Kill me dead.
He is awesome. Suck it.