Smarty Pants

Yeah, I know. I talk about my kid a lot here and now with our Haute Mamas, I'm all-Margaret, all-the-time, but she's a constant source of amusement, joy, fear and sorrow.

Also, pride. And today that is how I feel ... very proud. I had my second parent-teacher conference yesterday.

I always feel like they're gonna figure out that I'm not actually a parent, I'm just some over-grown adolescent who has a kid. But they're not on to me yet, so I'm going to keep faking it.

At the conference, we talked about her achievements academically and about her behavior.

Ack, her behavior. The teacher and aide both agreed that she shaped up since winter break, but that we've got to keep on her and hold her to high standards or she'll happily slack off and not meet her potential — which they explained is quite great.

She's above average in all areas, except reading. No, her reading is exponentially above average.

See, the school district wants all kindergarteners to be reading at a level 2.

Margaret reads at a level 20. Twenty! Ten times higher than the standard.

Her teacher empasized over and over that she's a bright child. But (and there's always a "but") if she's left to her own devices, she'll perform at a much lower level. So we have to push her and hold her to high standards.

That means work for her dad and I, but work that I look forward to ... helping my little rock star reach her full potential. Go Mar!