Parent-Teacher Conference

It's that time of year and as this is the Boy's last year of junior high, this is our last year of the dreaded dream date known as the Parent-Teacher Conference. And for whom does the Parent-Teacher Conference instill fear and dread? Ask the Boy. Sometimes the post-conference "chat" we have at home doesn't exactly go the way he'd like. That being said, it's not like are like discussions with a parole officer. They aren't. They are the discussions parents have to have with a "sports are my life"-crazed fourteen year old, that's all.

Sometimes reminding him that he does need to stay focused as much in his studies as his sports is not the easiest discussion. The Boy gets it. He just forgets sometimes. Like any fourteen year old boy. So he's not all that different. So we'll see if his teachers pull any rabbits out of their collective hats tonight.

It's been a wicked, wicked long week that culminated today with the biggest event of the year that my team manages. I can't even begin to tell you how GLAD I am that it is over. Glad doesn't even begin to cover it. With this one done and one more big one next week, I'm hoping I can start to get some balance back, or at least a semblance of it. I need to get my running back. It's been all off-kilter because of the hours I've been working and the time I've been spending offsite. Looking forward to getting back at it this weekend. I miss a good few miles each day. And given what the weather is doing here, it would appear that the nice fall days are numbered. I want to stay off the evil that is the treadmill for as long as I can...