PT Conferences – Or- Why Teaching Children Spanish is Bad

Yesterday, I had my nose rubbed in the fact that YoungerDaughter is going to be leaving me soon. 

Parent-Teacher conferences. 

I normally don’t go to these for YD, because the conversations are always the same, teacher to teacher, year to year:

“Your daughter is a joy to have in class.”

“YoungerDaughter is very bright and is a great kid.”

“YoungerDaughter has 100% in class.”

“She’s respectful, on-task, imaginative, funny, smart, always knows the answers, is always on time, and is My favorite student EV-ERRR.”

Ok, so that last bit was maybe a little exaggeration… but not by much!  I know just how smart YD is, how funny, how imaginative, and how much she loves being “Teacher’s Pet”.  And it’s not about being the “Pet”, it’s about getting along well with the teacher, because she honestly wants to be liked, and has a deep need for doing well in class.  She pushes herself far harder than any of her teachers do, honestly, and I’ve had them tell me that.  I’ve had to rein her in a couple of times in the past couple years, force her to go to bed when the homework piled up too high, and she worried about getting it all done.  But there comes a point where you have to sleep, and worry about it tomorrow, get a teacher’s help, something – or you crash and burn.

Anyway, So, I went last night, knowing that this is the last year for it, and we had some paperwork to sign off on for her upcoming Spanish club trip overseas, for heaven’ssake!  Yeah, YD is headed for Spain, next summer, after graduation.

Eek.

I’m not ready for my little girl, my baby daughter, my YD, to be going away to college, just yet, much less flying halfway around the world, and over a whole ocean!

But, I suppose I don’t have much choice at this point.  Her dad is helping her pay for the trip, and most of the paperwork is in order.  We still need to get her a passport, and some medical paperwork done, but that’s about it.

And meeting with the teachers in charge of the trip, last night, including one of the ladies who will be accompanying the kids to this foreign country, *sob*, I was torn between shaking her hand, begging on my knees not to take my baby so far away, and smashing her face, so she wouldn’t want my genetically dangerous child along on her trip overseas.

I shook her hand, and pouted through the rest of the interview.

I know, I know, you have to let them grow up, it’s a great learning experience, you want your children to have experiences and opportunities you never had… BLAH, frickity blah.

Whatever.  I’ll be in my corner…. sulking and listening to flamenco music.

If YD comes home in one of these, I'm blaming the school system!

I should never have let her take Spanish.

Stupid bi-lingual opportunities.