On your permanent record

I had a parent/teacher conference last week, and went into it with great trepidation. Much like my own work review, I have deep and nameless and ultimately unfounded fears as it pertains to reviews and other moments of Let's Assess How We're Doing...Shall We? It must be close to the same fear some men feel when their partner turns to them and says "Look, we need to talk." Perhaps I should adopt the attitude of men who don't feel any fear but instead think "how long is this going to take? I've gotta THING."

In the end, I left the conference with my usual lump in my throat, not from being berated but because I was overwhelmed with gratitude for the clear love, appreciation and committment Shawn Joaquin's teacher has for him in all ways. We discussed his growth over the last year, how he shocked all the teachers by belting Pequeñita Arañita last week with great joy and perfect pronunciation, and about his growing friendship with BlueJay, aka E.J., and what a perfect role model this confident, kind and open little boy is for Shawn Joaquin. There was one area in which his teacher felt that we could work with Shawn Joaquin: his ability to ask questions.

I went home with that thought on my mind. As I entered the door, Shawn Joaquin greeted me.

"What Angela doing? Who was at the school? What's for my snack? Why is THAT for my snack? What's after nap time? Why do we have to do THAT? What is Amalie doing? Amalie is MY best friend, not YOUR best friend. What Daddy doing? When he coming home? Why he coming home at night? What's that sound? Where's the bird? I want to SEE the bird. What the bird saying? What the bird's name? What color is the bird? Why he up in the tree? What tree? What he eat? What he saying now? Why I have to go night night? What's after my bath? I want all my toys in the bath...lots of toys. Do I have any new toys? What toys do I have? Where's the diver? What the diver doing while I SLEEP? What you gonna do? What you do that for? Where's Sacha? Why she there? Where does Winnie the POOH live? NO, HE LIVES IN THE HUN'RED ACRE WOOOODS. Not in Heffalump Hollow. Who lives in Heffalump Hollow? Why his name Lumpy? What his mama's name? Why is Rabbit scared? Why..."

In those 4 minutes of rapid fire questions, I realized that perhaps we didn't need to work on encouraging him to ask questions. Just perhaps to ask someone other than ME.