The Talk

In one week, my daughter will start high school. And that means that it's time for The Talk. No, not that one. That one, I could handle. I was ready for it, I'd thought about it, I was calm and straightforward. And it turned out she pretty much knew most of it, at least in round numbers.

No, this is the one where I say that I know that high school is harder than middle school, and its going to be a more work -- not as much as the guidance counselor and principal would like us to believe, but not as little as my daughter would like us to believe. And though we know that we need to encourage her to Take Responsibility for How She Does, we also know that given the chance she will cut herself more slack than we'd like, so we want to Be Involved, but without Being Involved All The Damn Time. Which doesn't work anyway, because Those Idiots At The School seem to honestly believe that saying Tell Them To Let You See Their Agenda Book and Copies of Tests will be enough. Which it isn't, not by a long shot. So we want to know that she's trying hard, but its got to be By Our Standards, though we know that we of course want it to be by Her standards, as long as, you know, they're the same as Our standards.

A friend says her daughter will beat herself up if she isn't doing as well as she thinks she ought to. My response was Can we get some of that DNA?

I am so not looking forward to this conversation, because I know its going to be difficult to pull off effectively.