The Tests We Take

Today we had lots of tests. The first one was to get to a testing center 30 miles away on time so Lily could take the SAT.

Now, we are a chronically late family, led -- or held back -- by me. I always assume things will take a lot less time than they actually do. For example, if I need to be at an appointment at 2:00, I will plan things so that I arrive at the address at 2:00. I won't have figured in the time it takes to find a parking space, park, gather my stuff, etc. So I'm always a little late, though beginning to catch on to how this works and getting better.

Lily has figured this out, so she needed to leave extra early for the SAT. This wasn't a bad idea since we aren't familiar with the area and it turns out the Democratic primary and the SAT were held at the same school. Getting there on time seemed to be a point of stress for her, and since I wanted her to be relaxed, I let her set the time. So she got us all up at 5:15 to leave at 6:30. (Horses had to be fed and all that, too.)

Sleep deprivation for all. I think even the horses are tired. I'll be surprised if she filled in her name right on the test. Not that it matters. She's in seventh grade so this was something she needed to do for a university-backed program for above average kids, not for getting into college. I think it's like Lake Woebegone, where all the children are above average.

Another mother there this morning said, "I think this is like those 'Who's Who' books where for $29.95 your name can be included." In other words, if somebody's going to say my child is above average, I'm certainly going to bite.

So we arrive at the center  much earlier than anybody ever needed to be there and sat there in the dark and the cold, waiting for the hundreds of other above-average kids. Lily had 12 number two pencils, a school-issued calculator and her snacks. As we were getting out of the car, I asked rather routinely, "Do you have your I.D.?"

NO! In an above-average like fashion, she'd forgotten it. And she panicked. I looked at my watch. No time to drive 30 miles and back.

"What's going to happen?" she said in alarm.

I said, "You'll either get in or you won't." She was upset. I was cold and wanted to go to bed.

Paul said the most amazing thing. "There are always other tests and other days."

I was so proud of him. He passed his test. What he really wanted to say was, "You mean I paid for all this and we got up early and drove all the way here and have been waiting in the cold etc."

Lily calmed down. We finally got in the building (after standing in line in the cold). I told Paul to get her in, because he's got a natural talent for getting past barriers. (Translation: He's a Yankee.) It turned out to be no problem, since she's in seventh grade and he's a Yankee.

I don't know where the day went because I spent most of it in a sleep-deprived coma (I haven't been sleeping well all week). We ate two meals out and managed not to have any brushes with fruits or vegetables, unless you count a pickle.

Lily is riding her horse. Paul is playing the piano. And I'm about to pass my test by riding my exercise bike, even though I really, really don't feel like it.

Comments

[groovyoldlady]

Ah...sounds just like taking my mom to Health and Human Services to apply for "assistance". We were there VERY early. She forgot things, she panicked.

You know what this means, don't you?

It means IT NEVER ENDS!!!