Friday, January 26, 2007

Report Card Day

It's Report Card Day. I love report card day with ardor matched only by that of young boys for puppies. I loathe report card day with the heat of one thousand suns. Contradictory, but it is nonetheless true. When I was a little girl, I would wake up at 3am on Report Card Day to fret about my grades. Would I get a B? Quelle horror! If I got a B, the sun would burn up the sky, the earth would cease to turn, and God would stop loving me. If I got all A's, my report card would be praised unto the ends of the earth. My sisters would know, beyond a doubt, that I was the best. Of course, I'd get straight A's. Then I danced through the doorway to meet the glares, and occasionally fists, of my sisters. Who wouldn't want to thump a smug little diva like me? Then came college. I distinctly remember Christmas break that year. I was making chocolate chip cookies in the kitchen when my dad brought in the mail. It was my report card. I knew it was going to be ugly because I'd taken calculus from the worst teacher in the entire history of teacherdom. This teacher was so horrible that all but six students had dropped the class by midterms. Of course, I didn't drop the class because I was Christy, queen of everything, and I could overcome even the worst teacher with my impressive mental acuity. The rest of the semester proved more challenging than I'd imagined. I was unable to tease out the calculical (Like that word? I just made it up.) theories by myself. I was horribly, horribly lost. But still! I was Christy! So I was positive that I'd pass the class. But no, I got an F. I threw the cookie dough into the trash and went to bed. My father reassured me that the world had not come to an end, despite the tremendous rift in the natural order. As a parent, Report Card Day is still fraught with anxiety. Every single "Needs Improvement" is a mark against my parenting skills. Every "Meets Expectations" is proof that I am indeed Christy, queen of everything. On Report Card Day, I'm a smug and terrified nine year old. I know exactly what the report card is going to look like. There will be high marks in academics and social skills. There will be low marks in deportment and discipline. At 4:15 today, when I see the report card, I will be the best and the worst parent in the world. I'm giving myself until 4:16 for that nonsense. Then I'm putting the report card away.


Laura said...

I'm glad I'm not the only one who loved report card day (and still does). :)

Sarah said...

Ahh.. report card day. When I was little I always got "Talks Too Much", which is true, and my parents always took as their failure for not teaching me how to better be a part of a community.

Little did they know that "Talks Too Much" really means "Belongs In Sales", and thus wasn't really a judgement at all, just looking at the glass half empty. :)