There is nothing like a parent/teacher conference for making you feel like a kid pretending to be an adult. I've gotten better at it over the years, but even so, I always have a moment where I think How can I be going to a conference? Grown-ups go to conferences! And then I remember that I'm almost 36 years old and as grown-up as I'm ever going to be, and I sit in the little plastic chair and nod knowledgeably as G's teacher talks about grade-level standards and organizational skills. I'm such a faker.
Anyway, G got a good report, as she always does. She still reads well ahead of grade level -- they've just upped the top of her AR reading range to 6.0, which she's happy about because it means she can check the really thick books out of the library -- and Mr. X commented on how much she loves to write. She'd rather write stories than play on the computer, so he lets her take her notebook and curl up somewhere to write when the other kids are having their game time. She's doing well in math, even though she dislikes it, and in music. He also said she's very mature for her age, gets along with everyone, and is extremely patient about explaining things to the girl who sits next to her, who's still learning English and needs some extra help now and then.
The only dark spot in all this sunshiny good news was attendance, which I knew I was going to hear about at some point. G has been late [appallingly high number] times in the two months since school started, and that only includes the times that actually got recorded and not the times when Mr. X let her slide in without saying anything. (He said that he really doesn't care because she's only coming in a few minutes late and not missing anything vital, but the office gets uptight about it. Mr. X, in contrast, is so laid back that he's practically reclining, probably because he's been teaching for as long as I've been alive.)
Anyway, I mentioned the attendance issue after I was done buttering G up with all the nice things Mr. X had said about her, and she groaned and said, "I know, I know." We'll have to work on it.