Now first of all, you have to understand that I was completely stressed out to be running so late, because I had a meeting first thing in the morning, and don't want to piss my boss off.
I was also already having a bad morning, because Kirstin had either lied to me, or forgotten that she had a homework assignment to complete, and I ended up having to get her up a half hour early and drive to the grocery store at 6:30 AM to get posterboard and markers; then wait while she copied all her things onto the posterboard and wait while she tediously colored it all in with markers. She had just gotten finished (15 minutes after we were supposed to be out the door) when my mom called.
In hushed tones, my mother informed me that she "didn't want me to take this as criticism," and that this was "really hard for her to say..." which is a great way to start any conversation, I assure you.
Then she told me about Kirstin's Gates scores. Apparently she scored below any of her previous scores, placing at a 2nd grade reading level. That, of course, is ridiculous. Kirstin's teacher, her dad, Forest, her Kathy, my mom and I all know damn well that she probably reads at a 6th grade level or so. She's reading Victor Hugo right now, for crying out loud. At her age I was reading Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys, and (it's embarrassing) Sweet Valley High novels. She gets into trouble for staying up late reading Agatha Christie, and for taking my old scripts (she especially likes Midsummer Night's Dream and Bus Stop) and not returning them to their proper spots.
So it's particularly frustrating that in her strongest suit she should bomb a test. I don't know if she was aware of how important the test was or not. It's irrelevant to me, because if the teacher tells her to do something, she damned well ought to DO it. The reason she failed the test is that she didn't come close to finishing it. On the contrary, she answered a few questions correctly, and then stared at her pencil cup for the rest of the test. It was a timed test, and questions she left blank counted against her.
My mom (who teaches in Kirstin's school) heard all of this from Kirstin's teacher, who I'm sure was very frustrated. *I* am very frustrated. It will likely mean Kirstin gets assigned to remedial reading next year, which is RIDICULOUS.
Then my mom went on to point out that Kirstin really doesn't fit in with kids her age, and maybe I ought to talk Bill about the possibility of retaining her in third grade next year.
I'm trying to be objective, and not to blow this all out of proportion, but I feel like I must really have screwed something up here. After I hung up the phone, I tried to run out the door to go to work, but Forest stopped me, since I was crying, and reassured me. No, I'm not a terrible parent. It's okay that I feel out of my depth, every parent does. No one is qualified to raise a kid perfectly.
I dropped her off at school, and all the way to work tried to snap myself out of it.
"It's important that I focus my thoughts on Kirstin, and how I can improve things for her, and help her to go well in school," says sensible Wendy.
"Everyone says she's one of the smartest, sweetest kids they have ever met, with tons of raw potential, how could I possibly be screwing things up this badly," wails self-recriminating depressed illogical Wendy.
"We already have a plan to address these problems. This is just another symptom of the existing problem, and we are taking measures as a team to eliminate the problem," says reasonable Wendy.
A car zooms by, and someone yells at me. I realize I'm doing 50 MPH in a 55, and am already a half hour late for work. I set the cruise on 80, and go back to my musings.
"I don't feel qualified to make these decisions! I don't know what to do about this! I'm completely out of control, and have tried all my best ideas and none of them are working," bellows the impatient, irrational Wendy who wants everything to work right the first time.
I pass the guy who was yelling at me, and vaguely enjoy the look of irritation on his face as I beat him onto the freeway ramp. The petty joys help when you're depressed, right?
Wrong. This isn't who I am. I don't take joy in frustrating other people. I don't like to be frustrated myself. What kind of person am I, anyway??
One who is afraid of failure, does everything by trial and error, and has recently realized that you only get one shot at being a good parent, and raising a successful, happy child. And right now I'm blowing it. She's unhappy and unsuccessful. Period.
And I care about her a lot, and think she deserves better than me.
Needless to say I was surely a joy to work with yesterday. I spent the entire morning in meetings, hid in my car and didn't bother eating lunch, and then spent the entire afternoon in meetings, too. I think I said one word to anyone all day.
Then Forest called, and arranged for he and Kirstin to meet me at Caesarland after work. The thought of this cheered me a bit. It must mean that all her homework was done. That's a good thing, at least. The three of us played games while waiting for the pizza to cool. Kirstin beat me at air hockey, and then she drove in the junior race car while I enjoyed wrecking my adult version repeatedly.
Forest was full of good kisses and hugs, and so was Kirstin. The two of them seemed to have had a good afternoon together. Kirstin apparently could tell that I was upset this morning, and had been crying about it after school. I had made a conscious effort to hide my feelings, but I suppose it showed. Lovely. The good part of this is that at least she and Forest were able to work it out together.
Soon the three of us were laughing and being silly, and all three of us got in the kayak arcade game and paddled like mad. We actually took first place on the game board and won a bonus game, which was pretty cool.
By the time we left Caesarland I felt human again. At least as much as I ever do!
Forest and I then went for a couple of hours to his Judo class's end of the semester dinner at Hua Pei restaurant. The service was incredibly slow, but the food was GOOD. Really really good. The people we talked to were really cool, too. There were about 30 judoka there, and they really run the gamut of humanity. I ended up sitting across from a woman named Trixie, who I had never met before. It turns out that we work on related projects, and know some of the same people. She's starting a celtic fiddle workshop this summer, which I'm very interested in participating in, and hopefully dragging Forest into, too. He played violin through high school, and seems to have really enjoyed playing intricate music. I think he'd like this sort of thing, once he got into it. A workshop in this context is a bunch of people teaching each other folk music. There usually aren't any written scores, everyone just picks things up by ear. It's like a drumming circle, except it's fiddles instead of drums, and folk music instead of pure improvisation. She said beginners are welcome, so I think I'll give it a try. Sounds like a good way to learn.
On the way home Kirstin and I sang together, and when I put her in bed she seemed relatively content to be there, which is a nice thing.
Forest and I proceeded to snuggle on the couch and watch VHF, which was an utterly silly "Wierd Al" movie.
We both laughed a lot, and told each other we loved each other repeatedly. We're really into that lately, and have been expressing our love for each other A LOT. I'm extremely happy to be with him, feel incredibly lucky to have found him, and say so whenever the mood hits me, which is frequently. Likewise, he tells me how glad he is that I'm his 'angel', and that I'm perfect for him, and how happy I make him, and how much he loves me. Being with him delights me; and I am even more ecstatic about it since he's seen and accepted all the worst parts of me already, and we've been completely honest with ourselves and each other all along. I'm absolutely sure, therefore, since this is all based in truth, that my feelings for him are deeply rooted, strong, and true.
And it's a wonderful thing to find truth in a relationship.
I suppose that's enough beaming for now. Egads I love that man.
My secretary is busy giving birth right now. Lucky gal, she's actually a week before her due date with her first baby! Everyone's excited, and no one around here is working. Rachel has an ability that I envy to make friends with her coworkers. She seems to be very businesslike, and is indispensable to all our projects, but at the same time, she has managed to find time to get close enough to a couple of folks around here that they've become friends in their off-hours. Sandy, our telecomm specialist, is even there as her backup labor coach. I mean, geez. That's friendship. I really ought to make more of an effort to get out from behind my desk and talk to people. It's not that I'm not an outgoing person. I just don't do *anything* at work other than work.
Now that I think about it, though, the folks in my department have been working together for more than a year now. They're all starting to drop their professional appearances, and just be people. I ought to do the same.
I mean, I do the legwork. I bought and placed decorations for Rachel's shower, and baked the cakes. I am now running around collecting money for a big flower arrangement, to be sent as soon as we know the gender of the baby. Still, I don't think anyone around here would consider me a friend.
Tonight's the Tae Kwon Do party, and I have no idea how many people are coming to my house, or what we're going to do with them. Forest is apparently borrowing a grill so we can cook out, but I'm not sure the weather will hold out. It's still predicted to rain.
