Well, we are now officially three weeks into a new school year and I've already had to have a conference with my kindergartener's teacher.

We are those parents. With that kid. Apparently.

I knew it was coming. The rainbow of colors on his behavior folder are misleading. Green is the only good one. Yellow, orange and red? They're bad. And there's been lots of bad.

I winced as I read the email requesting the meeting. I already regretted joking this might be his first attempt at kindergarten.

I was worried and defensive going in.

My boy, he is smart and funny and sweet and such a character. "He just needs to learn to keep his hands to himself," we're told.

"But he's only been five for, like, five minutes," I countered. Seriously, the boy turned five a week before school started. His teacher agreed this was most likely the reason behind his bad deeds.

We all agreed he's a great kid. It's just those pesky hands can't seem to stay on his person.

So, we came home and had a little chat with our boy. We told him how awesome and special he is. And that we love that he has plenty to say and that he gets so excited he constantly is trying to get others' attention. But, "doing so is disruptive to our friends and their learning," we told him.

He could do better, we say. He can be great, we tell him. We even promise ice cream.

And then Tuesday was better than Monday. And Wednesday was better than Tuesday.

Better, but not good. But we're proud of the progress, we say.

And on Thursday, something happened. After breakfast, he tells me about a dream. A dream about a bad, red, sad face on his behavior folder.

Then I was sad. My sweet little guy is having nightmares about his behavior folder. The rainbow of colors and bad faces are squashing the enthusiasm from exuberant little boy. That seems like an awful lot of pressure for a kindergartner who has only been five for, like, five minutes.

So, we have another chat. I tell him how he's awesome and special and smart and that I'm super duper proud of him as long as he tries his hardest to be his best... even if his best that day isn't good enough for a green smiley face. I tell him to try his best. I know you can do it, I say.

And then a different little boy comes home to me Thursday afternoon. One who is bursting with excitement. "You can't wait to open my folder," he says to his dad.

We already know what's inside.

A big, green smiley.

Mix 94.1

Which is pretty cool... but not nearly as cool or special as the ginormous smiley on my little dude's face when he gets that ice cream.