State Testing Mini Rant That Will Probably Turn Into A Maxi Rant, But Not A Maxi Pad, Just To Be Clear...

OKAY.  This effing state testing thing is just for the danged birds.  Today, The Preteen has the writing portion of the test, and she is freaking out BECAUSE, if they score a 5 or a 6, they've been promised a party.  Okay, I'm all about having a party, but can you wait until after shit is over with to celebrate instead of putting pressure on the kids to perform?  They actually FILMED A SCHOOL COMMERCIAL to play before the test this morning on how to relax and "YOU CAN DO IT!" and shit.  I'm just kind of flabbergasted about the whole deal.

Now, state testing is nothing new to this family - in second grade, her teacher told the class that they "had to do really really good or the school wouldn't get any money from the state."  Are you KIDDING me?

This teaching to the test thing is repulsive.  So is requiring Kindergarteners to be able to tie their shoes, know the alphabet, and be able to count to infinity before enrollment.  I could read before Kindergarten, but that's because Sesame Street was my babysitter.  I just think it's bullshit that preschool is becoming a prerequisite rather than an option.  We probably will do a year of preschool, just to ensure that I'm not raising a feral child (sometimes I wonder), but I just don't think it's NECESSARY.  Kindergarten is supposed to be about ABCs, 123s, paint smocks, snacks, and naps.  Fifth grade is about learning how to be a complete snot to your parents, insisting they're stupid, and doing math that your parents didn't do until college.

Ugh.  This was a rambly mess, but geezopete... It kind of makes me want to homeschool.  But then I'd never get to do THEBUSISHERE!!!!!!!!!!! happy dance.  And I live for that moment, yo.

I'm an asshole. Kinda. Maybe not.

Sweet sweet Violet hasn't been so sweet lately. Trying to get her to spill her guts is like pulling teeth, so I'll let her have 24 hours to be a complete ass and then it's time to get to business. Yesterday, the 24 hours was up. After a considerable amount of tooth pulling, and not the good kind - there was no novacaine, little girl finally told me what has been making her heart so heavy. I don't know why I didn't see this coming. I had the information prior. I am the asshole this time.

Violet's class is split into two sections, and they have two teachers. So one half of the class is with teacher a, the other with teacher b, and at lunch time, they switch. One of Violet's friends is in the opposite group. Her daddy was killed in combat late last year. Why oh why didn't I connect the dots?! Fear has been driving my girl for weeks and I didn't see it. Didn't even look for it. Violet is so concerned and worried for this girl, which she has verbalized to me, but has been stuffing her fear that her daddy is going to die in Afghanistan.

What do you say to a 10 year old who fears for her father's life? I had no answer but to hold her and cry with her and tell her that I'm scared too. Because I am. Not a moment goes by where it isn't in my face that he's not here and that he's there. (Not that Afghanistan is a horrible, hellish place, I'm sure there is beauty, but right now, she has my husband and she might not give him back.) I certainly have not given this child nearly as much credit as she deserves, even though I desperately wish she would tell me how she's feeling before she turns into "Buttface Violet" and destroys her friendships and makes home life miserable.

After we had cried enough tears to fill a bucket, I asked her if she thought Daddy would want us to worry like this, to make ourselves miserable and sick like this. She sat for a minute, and decided no, he wouldn't. So I asked her what Daddy would want us to do instead, and she said, "to have fun and go to school." Excellent. Then came the big question that I'm still not sure that I should have asked, but my mouth wasn't paying attention to my brain: "Violet, if something did happen to Daddy, what do you think he would want us to do?" She sat for a long time, as I was thinking "Oh shiiiiiit, what did you DO, Kelly!!!???", and she said, "He would still want me to go to school and have fun, and not be sad, because he would be in Heaven with Jesus." Absolutely, kiddo. Absolutely. Maybe I'm not giving myself enough credit this time....maybe I am doing right by her after all.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya, tomorrow...?

Ooooh, tomorrow's gonna be crazy. CRAZY. I start my doctorate. My DOCTORATE, y'all. It still sounds weird. Probably because part of me still feels like I just moved out to the local community college and I should go home and do my laundry every weekend. It's online, so like the commercial says, "get on your pjs, and get to class!" Barf. I might be in my pjs, but it will be during naptime and and after the kids are in bed. In fact, I should be an overachiever and read ahead; the syllabus is posted, after all, but I think I'm going to bed. This weekend has sucked hairy donkey balls, and we all know how pleasant those are.

Actually, before I go to bed, I'm going to have one last sinful snack. Probably loaded with chocolate and trans fat. I get to start my shots tomorrow! I really thought I was going to have to wait, but I'm not. My mom, bless her, is making me start. She's putting the money in our joint account to use if by chance President Obama doesn't sign off on the budget next week. We'll be paid on Friday, but it's the paycheck on the first that's in question now. Cross your fingers and your toes, because I like to pay my bills and feed my family. And Rox Box sure likes treats. I don't even want to talk about that whole debacle last week because it still infuriates me. Whoa, topic jump much? ANYWAY... tomorrow, 3 pm, I'm getting poked with a needle that will make my body consume my own fat. GENIUS. It also means that I need to take a "before" picture. I might barf right after, but I'm going to do it. I'm also going to stand on that thing, that is in my bathroom, what do you call it? I avoid it at all costs. Oh yeah, the scale. *dun dun dunnnnnnn*

Tomorrow is a scary day for me. On so many levels. School I'll be able to handle. Not being the self-deprecating fat girl? What will I do with my time?

ps... I just saw Tim Tebow in a Jockey commercial, and while I didn't mind seeing him half naked, I'm not real sure why they felt they needed to have him talk.