Friday 15 December 2017

My son's teacher must think I'm a headcase

OH God. Ohgodohgodoh-godohgod. You would think a woman my age would be beyond saying stupid things, wouldn't you? But, oh no, it appears that if anything I'm getting sillier the older I get.

Once again, I'd like to remind readers that having a child is a young woman's game, because you really need your wits about you all of the time. My problem is that I'm so distracted between running my life, my career, my child's life and my house (not to mention trying to keep up with the plots of several TV shows) that my mind just cannot cope any longer, and is sending out distress signals by way of my mouth.

I am now in a position where I cannot look my son's teacher in the eye. At our recent parent/teacher consultation, I expressed worry that my son didn't appear to be at all interested in learning to read. He has no bother with numbers and could do simple sums before he even started school but words, quite simply, fail him. I am quite baffled by this as he has been surrounded by books, magazines and newspapers since the day he was born. (I even read while breastfeeding in the middle of the night).

What I meant to say to the young master's teacher was that he comes from an extremely word-centric background and his lack of interest surprises me. Instead I wailed, "I don't get it, I mean I'm a journalist!" The teacher very calmly replied, "But you weren't a journalist when you were five." And before I got a chance to explain myself, the meeting was over. I'm mortified. Miss P-F, if you are reading this, please be assured that I am not a completely barking, window-licking headcase. I just sound like one occasionally.

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