AtoZ: L is for La La Land


I think I have taken up permanent residence in La La Land.

We’ve just had the rounds of parent-teacher interviews again.

The enormity of my hatred for these meetings cannot be adequately expressed in words.

This year my husband is going alone.

This is better for everyone for so many reasons.

If I go, I either have a panic attack due to school flashbacks or have to be physically restrained from strangling some condescending bitch.

I know that I am a far from perfect parent, but you know what? I don’t do a half bad job.

I’m not an alcoholic.

I don’t physically abuse my children.

They have a roof over their heads, food in their tummies and clothes on their backs.

That’s a lot more than most kids.

I have come to realise, if not accept, that no parent in the eyes of a teacher will ever be acceptable.

Either they have too many siblings or not enough.

You are too strict or not strict enough.

You give them too much space or not enough.

And that’s without interrogating their birth position within the family, which opens up a whole new can of worms.

When I meet my child’s teacher, I’m not asking for a critique of my parenting.

I am requesting feedback from a service provider on my child’s education and what they are doing to fix any problem areas.

That is what I pay them for.

I resent being told that they are doing me a favour by educating my child.

They are not.

I buy a brand new Mercedes C Class in cash every year with what I pay for one child, let alone three of them.

When I call a plumber to my home, I do not expect to be told to do the plumbing myself.

When I choose a school, I do not expect to have handle the lion’s share of teaching myself.

One teacher had the affront to tell us that we needed to buy a bigger house where each child can have their own room.

Fabulous. Is the school going to buy one for me?

Because currently the amount we pay in school fees precludes us from buying a new house in Millionaire’s Row.

If they had their own rooms I am prepared to bet a month’s of school fees that we would be told we were spoiling them, leaving them to their own devices and God knows what else.

I have the greatest respect for people who choose teaching as a career.

I reserve the most enormous contempt for those who choose teaching as a vehicle for their own power trip.

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I write because I have to. It is a compulsion. I do it to vent, to laugh and to remember. I blog because it has been so long since I had to write with a pen that my hand would go into cramp if I tried to write a journal.

4 thoughts on “AtoZ: L is for La La Land

  1. We seem to have the opposite problem over here. I dread parent-teacher conferences as well, but we’ve been pretty lucky with teachers. It’s the darned kid that gets us. He’s a sneaky one. Too smart for his own good, he likes to tell us fibs about his work and his ability to pay attention in class. Inevitably we get caught unawares at each PTC with tales of his talking inappropriately (a problem since he first started grade school) or even worse, assignments that he has failed to turn in. It’s always a frustration when your honors class child with an honor roll report card is simply choosing not to do the work because he doesn’t “feel like it”. Apparently these darned meetings aren’t good for any parents. We all end up walking away feeling crummy. Elle @ Erratic Project Junkie

  2. My mom was a teacher, and she also hated teachers like this. The order-of-birth thing especially annoys me. It’s a total Catch-22, and how are you doing a child any favors by acting as if their personality is set in stone because they happen to have siblings?

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