Our parental anxiety was at its peak last week as we stepped into Cheeky's pre-school classroom. It was our first "parent-teacher conference," our preliminary exposure to the outside world's view of our child. Having forcefully removed a wailing Cheeky from my leg when I dropped her off at school that morning, my expectations were low.
It should be of no surprise that we think Cheeky is the smartest, cutest, funniest child to ever grace this grim planet, and that the overpowering warmth of her personality will lift millions out of poverty and eventually lead to our collective ascension to a higher plane of existence. We also suspect that we're smokin' crack, and that as first time parents it's entirely possible we've inflicted so much permanent damage that she'll be curled up in fetal position under her therapists' couch before she graduates high school.
As we stepped into Cheeky's classroom, we took note of the art projects on the wall, most of which looked like bloody handprints or mustard stains, and nervously observed that few (if any) pictures of the kids showed Cheeky playing with anybody else. Our level of angst intensified, and we wondered if she was off in a corner plotting world domination or just suffering from acute social retardation.
The teachers beckoned us to take our seats. We lowered ourselves down onto the tiny chairs, and with our knees resting against our earlobes began the discussion.
Topic |
Our Expectation |
The Reality |
Cognitive development |
Cheeky has been using differential equations to calculate the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow (African). She can write at a tenth grade level and may have telepathic powers. |
Cheeky is very focused, good at puzzles and building things, and likes to help out whenever she can. She can spell her name, which is pretty good for someone her age. |
Vocabulary enrichment |
Cheeky has memorized the entire Webster's dictionary, assembled all the words in random order, and put them on an infinite streaming loop that we can't turn off. Also, she speaks with a Ukrainian accent. |
Cheeky does indeed have a very strong vocabulary and puts together incredibly advanced sentences for her age. She reverses her L's and Y's, but that's cute and we should enjoy it before it goes away. |
Interpersonal skills |
Cheeky is a pariah. Her emotional instability is feared by her classmates, and while they're off making plans for the prom she'll be in the basement sawing the barrel off a shotgun. |
Cheeky plays very well with others, often using her imagination to create magical lands or mythical professions for her and her playmates. Kids miss her when she's not there. |
Motor skills |
Cheeky is strong and fast, but runs like a girl and probably inherited her parents' athletic skills. In other words, she's screwed. |
Cheeky's minor and major motor skills are just fine. She creatively assembles blocks and other toys, and is enthusiastic at the playground. |
Artistic talent |
"Um, yeah…that definitely looks like a cat, sweety. I'm sorry I thought it was an octopus, or maybe purple tree on fire." |
Cheeky not only loves art, but draws or paints frames around her art, which is a sign of a particularly advanced skill level. |
In other words we should chill out and stop worrying so much. You could see the look in the teachers' eyes as we checked and double-checked all our assumptions; it said, "Please consider a steady regimen of Quaaludes before you give your child a complex that WE are going to have to deal with."
We breathed a sigh of relief as we left the meeting, picked up Cheeky and took her out to buy a cookie. So far, so good.
Meanwhile, back in the classroom, Cheeky's teachers filled a report card on Oodgie and I. "Hilariously funny, charming and attractive people, but highly stressed and easily prone to fits of irrational concern. Continue to monitor and prep for potential intervention. Consider holding back a grade and putting them into Cheeky's custody."
