I need to preface this post by saying how much I like The Boy’s school. It’s a great environment, the staff is fabulous, and he seems to enjoy it. What could be better?
Well, yesterday, I got an email from the teacher. Yes, that email. The one that says, “Mrs. Caines, I need to talk to you about your son.”
[hangs head in shame]
Now, to be fair, he’s four. And the email wasn’t tragic; it just let me (and my husband, of course) know that The Boy made some poor choices today and did not use his listening ears for most of the day, so he lost a lot of privileges at school.
And last night at the dinner table, I made it very clear to The Boy that he was also losing privileges at home because I received that email.
I know it’s not a reflection of me and my parenting abilities, but I can’t help but feel like it is in many ways. Interestingly, of all the things I said to The Boy last night, what affected him most was when I told him that Daddy and I were very disappointed in him. I actually saw his shoulders droop; he was that crestfallen.
Perhaps this will be the last notice of its kind from school. Hey – a mom can dream, right?