As any mother would be, I was both excited and nervous about my son’s first school report. After all, this was the beginning of his academic journey, and I was eager to see how he’d settled into Grade 1.
The night before the big day, my son assured me everything would be just fine. He’d done his work, and he was confident.
I couldn’t help but giggle – this child of mine always knows just what to say at the right time. I never doubted him, though. I knew deep down that his results would be good.
Earlier in the year, his teacher had sent me a message about needing to have a conversation with him.
Apparently, he was finishing his work quickly and then getting caught up in conversations with his classmates.
It took me back to grade R when his teacher also messaged me to have a talk with him because he was offering to help do the work of his classmates in order to speed up the talk time.
That was the bit that made me nervous. As much as I was proud of him, I couldn’t help but feel a little anxious.
If you’ve been following my journey, you’d know that my big boy is quite the talker – Mr. Hundred Words Per Second, as I like to call him.
And while I adore his chatty nature, I was worried this might be his downfall in school.
On the day I got his report card, my son excitedly told me something…a secret.
He explained that, because he tends to chat a lot, he now sits right in front of his teacher in class – the best way, he said, to make sure he doesn’t talk too much.
I couldn't help but laugh. It was a little confirmation that his teacher’s strategy had worked – and that, no matter where he sits, my boy’s personality still shines through.
Fast forward to Friday morning, the big day had arrived. We set off for school, and my son was positively buzzing with excitement.
He couldn’t wait to show me where he sits in class.
When we arrived, we were greeted by his lovely teacher, who handed over his report card with a warm smile.
As we chatted, I jokingly said, “Well, this report will determine whether or not you get your Legos back,” a reference to the punishment I’d given him for some backchatting earlier in the term.
His teacher laughed and reassured me, “There’s nothing worrying in the report, I can assure you.”
And she was right.
I couldn’t even wait to get home to open it—neither could big boy. We sat in the car, both eager to see what the report held.
“Ready?” I asked him, excitement building. “Ready, Mommy,” he replied. I tore open the envelope, my hands trembling with anticipation.
The moment I looked at the report, my eyes immediately filled with tears. My boy’s progress was even better than I expected.
He had achieved well above the standards in every subject, and I felt so incredibly proud.
I congratulated him, and then he looked up at me with a curious expression. “Did I pass?” he asked. My heart melted. “You did more than that, you did so well!”
His face lit up with a little grin, but then he said something that completely melted me: “Mommy, to be a doctor, you have to work hard.”
It was the sweetest thing he could have said. A little smile spread across my face as I realised that not only was he excelling in school, but he also understood the importance of working towards his dreams.
It gave me such a sense of pride to know that he was doing it for himself. He didn’t expect a reward—just the pride of knowing he had done well.
We hugged, and I told him how proud we were of him. That was enough for him, but as parents, we couldn’t resist treating him to something special.
So, we ended up buying him a Wonka chocolate bar and a slushy, and let me tell you—his heart was absolutely happy.
I also now understand why parents post their kids’ reports, especially when they’re as good as this one.
There’s just something about that feeling of pride and joy that makes you want to share it with the world. I’m just so proud of my boy, and I know that this is just the beginning of many more successes to come.
Weekend Argus