Meeting with the teacher, and pest control

Dear Oliver,

Today was parent/teacher interview day. You didn’t have school.

Since you are in “big kid” school and your brother is not, sometimes there are days where you don’t have school and he does. You almost never miss an opportunity to tell him that you get to stay home today and he doesn’t. I don’t know why you do this. Are you trying to make your brother upset? That’s a jerk move, kid.

Yes, I could have kept him home from daycare today so that you would have someone to play with. Unfortunately, I am one of those parents who sends their kid to daycare when it is not necessary. Honestly, Quentin, I think you have more fun at daycare than at home anyway. I’m doing you a favor. You’re welcome.

I took the day off of work today. I had pest control coming (you were afraid to go outside this morning lest you find yourself face-to-face with the “critter” in question), an energy consultant coming at the same time (I tried to explain to you the purpose of this, but failed miserably), and the parent/teacher interview. I had hoped to enlist you to help me with some yard work, but oops, it’s raining and snowing and definitely not good weather for pruning hydrangeas and hostas.

Instead, you glued yourself to the damn tablet for longer than you should have, and I kicked your ass in Operation. I do not let you win.

The meeting with the teacher went well. She says you’re kind and polite and respectful and shy and quiet. I found this hilarious. You are often none of those things.

She also said that you are very meticulous, which sometimes hinders you. Sometimes you don’t finish your work because you have perfection as an end goal and you don’t use your time wisely. I felt this in my bones, because I am the same way. I want things done right. I get it. But sometimes you have to take a step back and say to yourself, does it really matter? It might not be perfect, but it is good enough?

One of my co-workers has a saying: Don’t let perfect stand in the way of pretty good.

You know I’m not a perfect mother, but pretty good is good enough. Most of the time.

When your father and I painted your nursery before you were born, we went along each edge where the wall met the door frames (and window frames, baseboards, crown mouldings) with a teeny tiny paint brush and did micro touch-ups to make sure the line was straight. Almost seven years later, I can see how insane that was. I definitely do not inspect those lines today and say damn, that’s perfect. Was that a good use of my time? No, absolutely not.

I mean, don’t half-ass things. You can get away with using maybe 80% of your ass.

In other news, you’re also doing well with reading (though sometimes when you don’t know a word right away, you refuse to work through it) and really well with math. I may be biased, but I think you have a knack for math. The other night you were laying in your bed counting by 5’s to 100. Your own version of counting sheep, I guess.

Keep up the good work, kid. I’m proud of you.