"Why are you putting makeup on?" Tom asked.
"So I don't scare Natalie's teacher," I answered as I put on some blush. I'm rather pale so without makeup I can resemble Wednesday Addams. I sniffed my pits. "Ew, might need some deoderant too."
We were about ready to leave for Natalie's parent/teacher conference.
"Natalie," I called as I applied some lip gloss. I rubbed my lips together as Natalie appeared in the doorway. "Do you have anything you want to tell me?" If she danced on top of her desk Riverdance style, I wanted to be aware.
"Yes," Natalie said seriously and my heart clenched. Oh no. What was she doing? At home she could be stubborn. And bossy. I pictured Natalie handing a worksheet back to the teacher while saying, "I am not in the mood to practice my spelling words. But thank you."
"I don't like math," Natalie finished.
Oh. Phew. Me either. Math sucks. But I couldn't say this to Natalie.
"Well, just practice and it'll get easier." Lie. Lie, lie, lie. NO matter how much I practiced math, it still wouldn't compute. I remember tossing my math book across the room while shouting, "Find your own damn Y value."
"It's just not fun," Natalie continued with a shrug. She sniffed. "Why do you smell like a salad?"
A salad indeed! I had just spritzed on a fruity scent. Unless she meant a fruit salad.
We went downstairs and as I pulled on my coat I asked Tom if I smelled like a salad.
"Natalie said I smelled like a salad."
Tom sniffed around me. "I don't know. You smell like a girl, I guess."
I suppose that was a good thing?
As we drove to the school Natalie told us about the orange folder she made. "It holds my important papers. I drew you guys and Anna and Elsa, only I didn't know how to spell Elsa because it's a weird name."
We didn't have to wait long. We were called back and the teacher showed us the orange folder.
Inside were Natalie's reading scores. I wrote about how her scores were low at the beginning of the year. She was a late emergent reader. She has moved up and is nearly at grade level. She still gets extra help in reading but her teacher is not as concerned as she was.
"I read to her all the time," I promised. "She sees me reading all the time. I make sure she knows how important reading is."
I felt like the teacher's pet rambling on like that. But, well, I love reading. It pains me that my son doesn't like to read. Natalie HAS to like to read. She just has to. A mini Rory Gilmore, maybe?
Natalie has issues with math, but she understands the basics.
She behaves at school. She doesn't refuse to do her work as I feared.
She is a chatterbox at times.
"Sometimes my friends are talking to me!" Natalie said.
"Tell them you can't talk," I replied.
That's probably tough for Natalie. Especially if someone is talking to her about Frozen. She's not about to say, "Shh, we can't discuss Anna and Elsa right now."
Bottom line? She's doing well. She's getting extra help where she needs it. Her teacher is pleased.