Testing , testing, 1,2,3

I am so glad I am not a high school junior.  Today I proctored the ACT tests and tensions were high.  One boy twirled his hair when he was stressing, and by the end of the 3.5 hour test his previously straight hair was curly.  A few chewed their fingers to bits.  Nice way to spend a sunny Saturday morning.

For me, it is a fine way to spend a few hours once in a while.  It is calm, and cool.  If I had been at home I would have broken up 5 fights, negotiated major costume changes and done a few loads of laundry between 8 and 12.  Reading instructions and walking around a gym for 3 hours seems like a vacation, and I make a little spending money as well.

For these kids, it is hard to tell.  Some show up with 7 extra pencils, two calculators and a huge eraser, others skid in 2 minutes before we begin and have to borrow a pencil.  Some look as if they rolled out of bed and into their seat, some as if they never went to bed last night.  All are anxious.  A few even cancel their scores after taking all that time to take the test.

I remember taking the SAT.  I looked over some vocabulary, reviewed a little math, but for the most part is was not a huge deal.  I was a naive teen from the middle of nowhere who thought I would be fine, regardless of the outcome.  Truthfully, I was.  My first choice, Hampshire College, didn't require the SAT, when I transferred to UMass it was never an issue.  Grad school at Harvard, and no one cared about my SAT score.  Now, it rarely comes up on a playdate ;-)

Today, it is so different.  Pressure from everywhere on these teens make them think that one wrong answer and they are doomed for life.  While it is true that going to a good prep school, getting high SAT and ACT scores and excellent grades will get you into a good college, leading to a high paying job, when is enough enough?  I am a strong proponent of higher education.  I think students should expect great things from themselves if they put in their best effort.  I even think that standardized testing is a good idea (GASP!) but it is not the only idea.

I really hope the kids who took the test today are now doing something fun outside in the beautiful sunshine.

Playdates

For the most part my children are happy to go out and play.  We are blessed to live on a cul-de-sac and our acre of land is half covered with woods and bordered by neighbors we trust on either side and a cemetery in back.  I can allow the children to play out back, and peek out at them from time to time.  Outside of the occasional "That is high enough" about tree climbing, or "Don't pick the flowers" the girls play for hours either with each other or in their own little worlds.  They create fairy houses, stick forts, magic potions from the plants in the woods but most importantly they create elaborate stories and scenarios in their minds.  They love the independence of being "alone" in the woods with the story of the day, and I love that they are creative.

Many times when children come over after school to play they want to watch the TV or play some structured game that  includes me as an equal player.  I don't mind playing, in fact I play games everyday and my children have playdates over so they do not have to play with old Mom.  A few times my child and her playdate have come to me saying the are "bored", something I never hear out of my children's mouths.  They know better.  I strongly believe that only boring people get bored, and as long as you have an imagination you can make fun out of almost anything.  Plus "bored" children can help with the chores until they think of something better to do!  Perhaps one of the nine zillion toys we have? Books?  Coloring?   

This is often a conversation between myself and various playdates who are stunned that I won't turn on the TV.
     "Why don't you go play outside"
     "Play what?"
     "Whatever you want as long as you can see the house."
Blank stare from the playdate.

I was thrilled yesterday (the first of 3 half days of school in a row) when Sophie's playdate and both my children went from one activity to the next.  First they were Mom's with babies, then they were Katy Perry (yes, all three of them) and when they were horse from screaming "Firework",  they became dancers, and when I asked them make the 30th time the last time for "Dynamite",  they went outside to make mud soup and build a neighborhood in the woods.  I even had to bring snack outside as they were so wrapped up in their imaginative play.

Yeah for kids who know how to PLAY.  They will never be bored.

Polka dot undies

Back in the day my friends and I would head out to a club, or bar, around 1130pm.  We'd have a few drinks, dance our hearts out, wind down at an after-party and be home around 4am to get in a few hours before work, or school, or both the next morning.  Back in the day our bodies functioned appropriately on 3 hours of sleep. Back in the day we had money to burn, we could take naps most evenings and being packed into a club with 200 other dancing twenty-somethings indicated that we were in the right place. 

Now, things are a smidge different. 

It amused me last night when I called a friend to ask where I should meet her, that she suggested a martini bar @ 930.  Not because it was a martini bar, I really like this particular place because when you can get a seat, it is a fun and relaxed atmosphere with delicious drinks.  I was amused because 930 pm seemed much too late to go anywhere.  I am often out past 930, but that is usually on the tail end of my evening.

As a mom living in a rural town surrounded by only slightly less rural towns, I am not up on the "scene".  In fact I am not usually up and out at all.  Every few weeks we go out to dinner with friends, maybe drinks with the girls, a charity event every so often, but that is about it.  I am not complaining in the least.  I love my life, but cutting edge it is not.

So last night, (celebrating a friend's 41st birthday), after the martini bar was too crowded, we headed to a larger bar, had a drink or two and danced to a few songs.  Around 1130 this bar also started getting crowded with twenty-somethings.  They were scantily clad, with high heels and not a care in the world.  We knew we were truly too old to be there when one girl on the dance floor moved in a way that her polka dot undergarment was visible.  The twenty-somethings could have cared less.  All us old ladies took a deep breath, prayed for her and her mother, and mutually agreed that the positive to the incident was that she was actually wearing an undergarment.  A drink spilled of the dance floor, the birthday girl slipped, we were annoyed that 200 people were packing in and we all knew our children would be up early in the morning.  Clear signs we should be home in our fuzzy slippers.

As I dropped the birthday girl off, I glanced at the clock.  1am.  I was deeply thankful that in two minutes I would be home, able to throw on my flannel jammies and hop into bed.  I thanked God for the husband waiting up for me, the children who would wake me with snuggles at 7am and that I am no longer 21.  Don't get me wrong, I had a blast as a twenty-something, but nothing can beat the gig I have right now. 

I'll take my dance party in the living room, packed with families, wearing dress up clothes and twirling a 6 year old, thank you very much.