I can’t sleep. I don’t even want to sleep. I don’t want to think, or dream, or feel right now. So, I sit in Papa’s chair, and read blogs, and try not to think about how much I miss Papa.
It’s “forced” insomnia. I missed this classification when I was reading about sleep architecture and disorders earlier today.
*sigh*
It’s been a crazy week and it’s only Tuesday (still – for about 60 more minutes).
We had a parent meeting at the district office to get information on the school district’s GATE program. I remember those GATE kids from when I was growing up – they became the valadictorians of the various high schools. But, I look at my kids and don’t see that brilliance. Don’t get me wrong. They are talanted, and smart, and beautiful. But I also see “struggling”. I see myself.
Tonight, at Back-To-School night, more of my past came to haunt me. I sat there, with my husband, and went right back to 3rd grade. I looked at the evaluation that the teacher had left on the desk for us. The teacher had started out using purple ink, but later switched to red. And she wrote her negative comment even BIGGER. I guess she was afraid that we would have missed it.
I just sat there numb. I couldn’t cope. It was such a mixed message. My kids is indentified as “gifted and tallanted” but his teacher needs bold, red ink to write up his reading comprehension evaluation. It doesn’t compute.
I hated 3rd grade. I hated multiplication tables. I hated not being able to keep up with the future valadictorians who always blurted out the answers. But, as a parent, I need to be positive and to advocate well, and to be neutral to red ink.
To make matters worse, I asked my husband for his opinion on the teacher’s red ink and then zoned out on his answer. I couldn’t follow him. He was using terms to mean something, but the terms just didn’t compute. Okay, so my *brain* wasn’t computing. I just couldn’t cope. He left mad at me for my lack of neutrality. I don’t even know what exactly I said, but it didn’t leave him thinking that I wanted to hear his opinion. Really I DID; I just couldn’t hear it. *sigh* I DID say that I “hated” 3rd grade.