Meet the Teacher

I'm going to my first parent-teacher meeting at Kayrin's kindy tomorrow. It's quite unnerving for me. One, it means I'm really the adult here now, with someone to be responsible for apart from offering her my breast when she used to cry. So if it didn't sink in during birth that I'm now someone's mommy, if it didn't register when the Tumble Tots teacher called me "Kayrin's mum," then this could be it.
I'm anxious because it means that instead of telling the teacher how I want my daughter taught and what I want her to learn, I could be the one under the microscope for my failure as a parent.
What if measured against other parents, I'm always not there for her? What if measured against Nicodamus' mummy, I had failed to teach my cheeky one how to write? What if up against Aliyah's emak, I didn't spend enough time showing my daughter how to draw? I've always been a failure at drawing, anyway. Oh yikes, I need some sort of hand-holding at the meeting tomorrow.
And adding to my distress is Shaw Feng having to scoot off to Hanoi yesterday after my arranging for weeks for him to come along. Boy, oh boy :)
Kayrin's headmistress must have sensed my anxiety when I rang this morning, hoping I'd dreamt all this up.
"Oh, it would be good for both parents to come, not just the mom or dad," Miss Cheng said. I muttered some sort of reply about being there early.
I guess doing this is just like giving birth, no? I just have to go through the experience on my own. It's great that Shaw Feng was there to hold my hand throughout. For that, I'm so very proud of him. There are the doctors and nurses to urge you on but guess who pooped the baby out. Breathe, let the air out of the lungs, unclench the teeth. And pray for me!