The twice-yearly Parent Teacher Conferences are coming up this week at school.  And you can taste the fear in our house. But it’s not from Big Boy and Littlest Angel. The one quaking with fear is me. Yes, me. A 40-something mother of 2 children. There’s something about being in front of a teacher that makes me quake with fear. But why?

Why Do I Quake With Fear in front Of A Teacher?

I’m a University-educated, (almost) middle-aged woman. Pre-kids, I spent years in quite tough sales environments, first as the one being bellowed at, then as the one doing the bellowing. And for the last 6 years, I have been dictating terms and ruling the roost at home.

So why do I turn into a wobbling mass of jelly as soon as it’s my turn to see the teacher?

Why do I quake with fear in front of the teacher?

Are My Kids Naughty?

What’s the first thing you thought when you read the heading? That my kids are really naughty? Maybe even feral. It was, wasn’t it? You thought my kids are the ones who terrorize the school. Pictured bullying, bog-washing and bum-flashing. Probably even pictured those big claggy lumps of wet loo paper thrown up on the ceiling. You did, didn’t you?

Well, actually, my kids are very good. Most of the time. (Let’s not talk about one dropping the F-bomb recently. He assures me that he didn’t know what it meant)

I’m not expecting anything other than news of sitting nicely at carpet time, asking good questions, reading nicely and loving Maths.

So, why am I quaking with fear about meeting the teacher?

Was I Naughty At School?

Now you’re thinking that I must have been really wild at school. You are, aren’t you? You’re imagining flashbacks to my parents being summoned to the teacher; maybe suspensions and even threatened expulsion. You are, aren’t you?

You think that a grown woman would only quake with fear like this if she had been in big trouble herself at school.

But no. I was what we, in our house, call a ‘Goodie’ at school. Do you know Horrid Henry’s perfect little brother, Perfect Peter? Yeah? Well, I was like the girl version of Perfect Peter.

I was a desperately serious and sensible child, clever and diligent and with beautiful manners.

So, why the fear?

Was I Beaten With a Stick By My Teachers?

You think that I must have been beaten, slapped or poked by my teachers when I was young. And that’s why I’m quaking with fear over meeting the teacher.

And, you’re right, that would be a good reason for a grown woman to be terrorized by the idea of seeing the teacher.

But I wasn’t. Not beaten. Not slapped. And not poked.

Even in 70s Ireland, I wasn’t beaten, slapped or poked. (Well, not by the teachers anyway) There were a great many kids who were. A few hard slaps on the palm of your hand with the edge of a wooden ruler was considered appropriate punishment back then. But, don’t forget, I was a ‘Goodie’. That never happened to me.

So, why will I be shaking like a leaf when it’s my turn to see the teacher tomorrow? Why will I have a dry mouth and sweaty palms?

It’s not because my kids are naughty.

It’s not because I was naughty at school.

And it’s not because I was beaten with a stick by my teachers.

…which can only mean one thing…..

Do Teachers Have Special Powers?

If my quaking with fear is nothing to do with my kids or with me, it must be something about the teacher. Or teachers. Because it’s not just one particular teacher. I, a grown-up woman, quake with fear in front of all teachers.

Teachers must have some sort of Special Powers.

They must be taught some sort of Mind Control Techniques, taught at Teacher Training College.

Teacher Training College: the first 5 lessons

1. Crowd Control Techniques – how to get a large group of tiny whirling dervishes into a straight line with one killer look
2. PE Day Change – how to get a large group of clumsy, chubby digited infants to get undressed into their PE kit and back to uniform without using up the whole PE lesson
3. PE Day Alternative – how to get the parents to bring their kids into school on PE day already wearing their PE kit in the event of a fail in Lesson 2
4. Dealing with the He Said/She Said – how to survive the continual he said/she said without resorting to sending kids to the Headteacher every 5 minutes
5. Controlling the Parents – how to harness your Special Powers to reduce the otherwise independent grown-up mothers to a quivering wreck in 5 seconds or less

So now I know it’s not me, it’s them.

It’s the teachers, and their Special Powers of Parental Control, that reduce me to a quivering ball of fear.

Will my discovery make any difference to me tomorrow?

No, probably not. I’ll be just as nervous waiting to go in for my 10 minutes with the teacher tomorrow.

… but at least I’ll know it’s not me!

(Dear Readers, if you know of any techniques I can use to ‘man up’ at Parent Teacher Conferences, please drop me a line in the Comments. Or, if you are a teacher, and can shed some light on the mysteries of Controlling The Parents lessons, we’d love to hear more.)