“Sophie must get talked about more than any other kid at that school,” Ray said, when I recounted the details of yesterday’s meeting this morning as we both raced around the kitchen, getting ready for the day.

Yeah, I thought to myself. And I bet I get talked about more than any other parent.

That’s definitely the vibe I got when I saw the huddle outside the conference room when I arrived for Sophie’s one-month-into-school-how’s-she-doing meeting yesterday spot me, and I felt it again when a weird hush fell over the room when I walked in and took the last chair. 

I smiled a lot. So did the principal, teachers, aide, therapists and district special ed coordinator. It was a very congenial meeting, full of praise for Sophie and her progress (now it only takes five minutes to redirect her when she falls off task!) and news of what’s going on in the classroom.

I could pick that hour-long meeting apart second by second (let’s be honest, of course I already have, a hundred times) and focus on some condescending tones (“Sophie’s so happy!”) and some warning signs (really? FIVE minutes? that seems like an eternity) and wonder how much rehearsing and editing went into the glowing speeches around the table – or I could believe these people when they say they love her and she’s keeping up.

I could try to take it all at face value. That’s what Sophie does. Hey, it works for her.