Is it just me or does anyone else just… hate parent-teacher conferences? Like, really really hate them? I just finished my last one, like an hour ago, and I’m still sitting in the parking lot. Dark now. My car is basically the only one left. I’m just staring at the steering wheel. I can’t even bring myself to start the engine, let alone drive home. My back aches. My head throbs. I swear I haven’t had a solid meal all day, just… whatever I could grab between parents. I mean, I knew it would be a long day. But somehow it’s always worse than you expect, right? Back to back to back. One after another after another. And it’s not even the kids, really. It’s the parents. Oh my god, the *parents*. You get some who are just… not there. Stare blankly. Nod. “Oh, he’s doing well. Yeah. Okay.” And then the next one is like, “Well, I *thought* he was doing better after we got him those new shoes that connect to the app, are you sure you’re using the right metrics?” Like I don’t even… I’m a teacher. For first graders. What metrics are we even talking about? And then there are the ones who just… dump everything on you. Like, my kid won’t eat vegetables at home, what do *you* do? My kid isn’t sleeping, what kind of routine should we have? My kid is arguing with his sister, how do you handle conflict in the classroom? Like I’m supposed to be their therapist AND their parenting coach AND teach their kid how to read. I just smile and nod and try to give some sort of helpful advice. “Oh, sometimes if you make the vegetables into a fun shape…” Like I don’t even have my own life to figure out. I have my little brother to pick up from school, dinner to make, then check in on my grandma because she keeps forgetting her meds. I just feel so drained. So completely empty. I wanted to teach because I love kids, you know? I love seeing them learn things. But sometimes it feels like I’m just… managing everyone else’s expectations. And their problems. All of them. All day. I’m just so sick of being the one who has to have all the answers for everyone all the time. Like, who is taking care of *me*? Anyone? I guess not. Not really. I just want to go home and maybe just… fall into bed and not wake up for a week. But I can’t. Because tomorrow it starts all over again. Gotta get up early to make sure my brother gets his lunch packed. Ugh.