I shouldn’t have scheduled the CAT 5 standardized test for this week

Alicublog today writes,

The screaming fellow with the Bluetooth earpiece may not in fact be connected; he may in fact be screaming to himself, only using technology to conceal his madness from the world.

Which I have the feeling is me most any given day of the week, though I enjoy it when ISPs like Berkeley land on things like my Goddard posts and return for days in a row to check out the same post again. Though they may be laughing at me. Who knows? “Hey, you have to read this!!”

Anyway, sometimes I don’t mind that I’m mostly blogging to myself. Like today.

As in…

I shouldn’t have scheduled the CAT 5 standardized test for this week. I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have scheduled the CAT 5 standardized test for this week. I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have. I’d enough stress going for me this week but the testing place wrote back and said how about this week and I said OK, even though I knew things would be stressful enough for me this week.

I can say that we prepped with several older CAT and Texas standardized tests beforehand, available online, to get H.o.p. used to it, and attitude wise and otherwise he did great…at least with the language portion. All stars. Superb. So I thought we were ready, at least attitude wise. And I was pleased to see how well he performed though I try to be child-led and take-it-H.o.p.’s-speed in things (as in trying not to stress over math and being happy to see how his reading skills have evolved as he’s been ready).

Never-the-less, I shouldn’t have scheduled the CAT 5 standardized test for this week. I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have scheduled the CAT 5 standardized test for this week. I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have. Because I didn’t need the extra stress.

H.o.p. took one look at the booklet and figured OFFICIALLY IMPORTANT and melted down. By Thursday night I was melting down and sick to my stomach with stress over dealing with his melting down. The nice, good mom vacated the scene and I turned into the bitch taskmaster, demanding, “YOU WILL TAKE THIS TEST! IT IS THE LAW! YOU KNOW YOU HAVE TO TAKE THIS TEST!” Some unschoolers suggest simply invalidating the tests right off, but no, no, I couldn’t do that. We must be legitimate. And I was adamant and each day after the initial showdown I finally got H.o.p. to sit down and take the damn test but not without first a mighty wrestling match of wills.

And finally yesterday I was reduced to the stress-maximized point of LOUDLY saying things like,

“YOU KNOW, IF YOU WERE IN SCHOOL AND WERE MAKING NOISES LIKE THAT THEY WOULD MAKE YOU QUIT TAKING THE TEST AND LEAVE THE ROOM.”

And…

“YOU KNOW, IF YOU WERE IN SCHOOL THEY WOULDN’T LET YOU TRY TO WRITE WITH A BALLOON WRAPPED AROUND YOUR PENCIL!”

And H.o.p. was…

“Why can’t I draw on the test!?”
“But I don’t LIKE their stories!”
“Why can’t I scrawl on the test?!”
“I’m hungry!”
“I’m thirsty!”
“But I have to draw an alien and put it in the window now!”
“Now I’M all stressed out!”
“What’s that noise outside?”
“Do you hear that noise outside?”
“Is that water sound from the aquarium?”
“Why do I have to take this test?!”
“Look, I’m writing with my foot!”
“Look, I’ve got earplugs in my nose!”
“I hate tests! I think all tests should be banned!”
“Do they have to know my name?”
“Will I get an A?”
“If I’m not going to get an A, I don’t want them to know my name!”
“What’s going on outside?”
“Agh! I accidentally stabbed myself with the pencil! I’m going to get blood poisoning! I hate pencils! Pencils ought to be banned!”
“This is too easy! I’m not going to take a test that’s too easy!”
“This is too hard!”
“Listen to me belch.”
“Can I take a break now?”
“I forgot to take my vitamins. I need my vitamins now.”
“Why are those black dots at the top of the page?”
“Why can’t I use a pen?”
“Why do I have to use a #2 pencil?”
“MY ERASER CAME OFF! MY ERASER CAME OFF!”
“Look, I’m eating my hair!”
“But I have to go to Brainpop right now and see their video on how to take tests!”
“I’m not going to do baby stuff! These are baby questions.”
“I hate math!”
“I can make up better questions than these.”
“I can make up better answers than these.”
“I need a cylinder that’s hollow, like a coffee can! I have to make my alien right now!”
“We can use a water can for a cylinder! But I have to make my alien now while they’re still outside painting the windows so I can make them think there’s an alien inside!”
“I want to make my alien now and I need to make joints so its arms can move.”
“No, I don’t want to do my math later. I don’t want to do math at all.”
“Why can’t I make random marks on the page?”
“Looooooooook, I made a random mark on the page.”
“I can’t!”
“After? Why can’t I do it now?”
“I can’t!”
“Mom, why are you sitting there looking like that?”
“Say please, mom.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Mom, I’m never going to smoke because smoking is b-a-d.”
“Mom! I put a hole in my shirt with my pencil!”
“I hate my life. Why do I have to take this test?”
“Why do I have to do this?”
“Did I get up on the wrong side of the bed?”
“No!”
“I want pot stickers.”
“I’m getting a headache. Get me some ice for my head.”
“Do I have a fever? Feel my forehead.”
“My nose is running. I think I’m allergic to tests.”
“I want a cheese quesadilla.”
“Mom, I want a cheese quesadilla. Do you hear me?”
“OK, I’ll do my test. Do you hear me? Can I do my test?”
“Mom listen, isn’t this a gross sound?”
“Did you get up on the wrong side of the bed?”
“Why can’t I play with modeling clay while I’m taking the test?”
“My hand hurts, I can’t write any more.”
“Ok, ok, I’ll take the test!”
“Mom, can I use the calculator?”
“Then can I do one question with the calculator?”
“Why can’t I do one question with the calculator?”
“Look, the pencil’s a drumstick!”
“Why can’t I breathe in and out through the harmonica while I take the test?”
“I don’t know how to stop arguing.”
“Can I have a beagle?”
“So some people know what they’re going to get on their birthdays? Like a beagle?”
“No, I haven’t done the sample question yet. I was thinking. When can I have a beagle?”
“Math! That is scary!”
“Wait, I think I know!”
“Mom, how did you just break your fingernail? Does it hurt? Can you glue it back on?”
“Mom, I can’t concentrate. I keep thinking about your broken fingernail.”
“I don’t know that!”
“I should be able to use a calculator.”
“Mom, I’m yawning. I’m tired. Can I go lie down?”
“Mom, this is a challenge, isn’t it?”
“Mom, why are you looking like that?”
“I want music.”
“I can’t concentrate with that music going.”
“I can’t concentrate with them painting outside. I’ll tell them.”
“I’m going to yell out the air conditioner and tell them they have to stop painting now so I can take my test.”
“Coming, mom!”
“Help, help!”
“I’m way far away from the modeling clay now.”
“I hate doing money.”
“That’s got to be incorrect!”
“Mom! Mom! Mom! I need an abacus! Can I have an abacus? I need an abacus!”
“Mom, why am I afraid of death again?”
“I have an idea! Mom, I have an idea!”
“Mom, why are you sitting with your head on your hands?”
“Mom, come on, sit up straight and face the table.”
“Can I draw dragons and subtract with dragons?”
“It would take me years to draw 119 dragons.”
“It would be great if people lived ten thousand and sixty years, right? Then I could meet, Thelonius Monk, right?”
“Loooook, I’m hitting my head with my pencil!”
“Oh, now I remember.”
“I need another eraser! I broke my eraser again!”
“Wow, I’m doing a lot of erasing.”
“Mom, I need earplugs again. Earplugs could help.”
“Mom, why can’t you help me?”
“Mom, I have something to ask you? If the earplugs fit me, why can I hear you with them on?”
“Mom, I have something to ask you!”
“Mom? Another thing? I have something to ask you. Well…I’m afraid of death again. Hey, can daddy read me ‘War of the Worlds’ tonight or is it too scary?”
“Ok, ok, I’ll do my test.”
“Ooops! I made a mistake. Mom, I have something to ask you? Why can’t we talk about ‘War of the Worlds’ right now?”
“Mom! I think I got the answer!”
“Yikes!”
“Mom, why don’t you watch ‘War of the Worlds’ while I’m doing the test? Is there such a video named ‘When Gladiators Ruled the Earth’?”
“Mom, hey this is becoming easy! Did you hear me, mom?”
“Mom, high five!”
“Mom, later I’ll show you a video you can watch.”
“Hey, I found the eraser that fell off! Well, you know what some people say. All’s well that ends well.”
“When I get all the problems done then I can have a vacation.”
“Ooops, I accidentally did it in the hundreds place! That’s embarrassing!”
“Mom, I have something to ask you, when might a comet collide with the earth? Maybe it won’t happen and we’ll just have pollution, right?”
“A zero?!! A zero!? I don’t know about that. I’ll need to check that.”
“Mom, this is a fun test, isn’t it? I’m done with the English part, right? I’m starting to feel bad that I’m going to finish this test because I’m starting to have fun with it.”
“Mom, why do I want to keep this test now and do some more tests?”
“Mom, are there a few more tests after this one?”
“Mom, I really want to repeat this test again and again and again so I can do this test forever because I really like it.”
“Mom, why is your head in your hands?”
“Mom, I really like CAT 5! Do you think when they’re done with it they’ll recycle the booklet?”
“Mom, can we take pictures of the test to keep? I really like it. That would mean we could still see it even when it’s long gone.”
“I’m really going to miss this test. Maybe when I’m done with it you could check it yourself and draw some big red A’s and B’s and C’s on it?”
“Mom, will you really miss this test, too?”
“Mom, maybe you could get me another CAT 5 test with health and art questions? That would be a good idea, wouldn’t it?”
“Mom, do you remember that we have two tablecloths on the table?”
“OK, I’ll continue.”
“Mom, do adults take tests?”
“Mom, is this test teaching me stuff?”
“Mom, are there other tests coming after CAT 5? Could we make our own tests? And you could do the questions and answers? That would be great! But we’d need to staple it together like CAT 5 so we could pretend it’s a CAT 5. That would be great!”
“OK, back to work!”
“Uh oh, this is confusing.”
“I’m glad no one’s watching me. I might get stage fright.”
“Now, this is easy!”
“Mom, why can’t we keep this test and pretend we haven’t done it because I’m going to really miss this test.”
“Mom will you miss this test when it has to go? Why do we have to send it back? That’ll be so sad.”
“Mom, I think I want to keep this test forever.”
“Mom, I want to be famous.”
“Mom, how come we can’t stop time?”
“Mom, there’s another confusing question.”
“Mom, if we can’t stop time, can we pause it? Can we freeze time?”
And so on and so forth and so on and so forth and so on and so forth, and talking about why people scratch their head when they’re supposedly thinking, and then humming bombastic Beethoven as he forged ahead.

SAD? SAD? He melts down at the beginning of every single testing day and now ON THE LAST TESTING DAY he’s sighing about how it’s sad that the testing is going to be over and he’s going to miss it? SAD???????

My brain is splitting apart here.

I’m turning the big FIVE O tomorrow and all I really want to do is crawl under the bed cover and ungraciously mourn my many failures. Like I did last night. Everything I believe I should have accomplished as opposed to what is. Whatever. The world marches on.

But at least we made it through the CAT 5.