So, I got pulled over by the Letter to the Teacher police…

You know the violation, right?

“Please send a letter that explains the strengths and challenges of your child.   What are the goals you have for your child this year?   We invite you to tell us any additional information that would be helpful.”

I didn’t write a letter.

I can remember when I was asked to do this for The Boy when he went to kindergarten.  Man!  You would have thought that I had won the lottery!  It was my opus!  Chronicle the first born!  I wrote my heart out, cc’d the grandparents, adapted a copy for his baby book, and, in addition, wrote him a Benidiction letter to be opened the day he graduates from high school.

Four kids deep, The Oldest Girls’ teacher had to email me to ask where her letter was.

Now, in my defense, The Oldest Girl has the same two, core teacher this  year as she did last year.  Those teachers sent me the exact letter request again this Fall.  I wrote a damn fine, and wholly complete letter to them last year.   I mean, come on, I live with The Oldest Girl, and they taught her every day.  It’s NOT like they don’t know her already.  Do they really need ANOTHER letter?  So I prioritized.  I had to write the letter for The Baby.  She was off to kindergarten, and neither the teacher nor school knew anything about her.  I wrote the letter for The Middle Girl right away.  I love the teacher she has been assigned, and that teacher holds a special place in her heart for my kids, so, like, you gotta keep the love flowing, right?  The Boy’s teachers did not request a letter.  He’s in middle school, and they really are satisfied with me as a parent if I make him wear deodorant every morning.

I confess.  I kind of gave myself permission to skip it.

Then I get the email, “Would love your insights about Oldest Girl when you have the chance.”

In fairness to the teacher, this was a loving and sincere message.  Genuinely, this is a teacher who wants to serve The Oldest girl and support her in every way possible.  I know this.  I believe this.

That said, I so felt like the kid sent to the principal’s office for smacking my gum in class.  Really.  That’s what not turning the letter in on time boiled down to.  Smacking my gum in class.  The attitude problem was entirerly my own.

As some of you veteran parents already know, it’s the tedium of parenting that sometimes breaks Hallelujah.  It’s those phrases or tasks we have to do and say over and over and over and over again that erode enthusiasm like acid rain. Like…making lunches or doing laundry, or “Who’s turn is it to do the litter box?”… Blah, blah, blah!

However, as I confess in I Was The Mamma, the idea of playing nice really resonates with how I was raised, and it was my duty to send in the letter.

I needed to connect to the joy of her.  I needed to let her light of love shine through me.  The Oldest Girl is a TORCH!

I resolved, however, to mix it up this year:

Oldest Girl

Deeply empathic.

Intrinsically driven.

Creative.

Passionate.

Resilient artist.

Ardent friend.

Ready  music.

Perseveres.

TORCH!

intense

convicted

situational intolerance

easily hurt!


Go forth and grow strong in relationships.

Gain confidence through self-investigation.

Stage performances.

Seek opportunities.

Acquire new accuracy and skills.

Honor the truth in the opinions of others.

Rise up.
Drink deeply!

Oldest Girl.

I did my best, it wasn’t much
I couldn’t feel, so I tried to touch
I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come to fool you
And even though
It all went wrong
I’ll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah!