SATs


Many, many years ago, I studied for the dreaded SATs and after I took the test, I am not sure if I was more relieved that they were over or at the thought I would never have to do it again. But, either way….goodie for me!

Fast forward to 1996. My awesome Son, Ryan, was born. Did the thought of SATs ever cross my mind? Not really. Actually, not at all. Perhaps the shooting pains as my body was physically separating while bargaining for methods to just blackout and trying to pass a watermelon with huge feet blocked out any visions of the future. Looking back, if I would have realized about the SAT studying that would be involved in 2014, I might have told the doctors to just leave him in there. Permanently.

Moving forward. Welcome to October, 2014. Between 1996 and 2014 are not important, just your usual toddler years involving projectile vomiting in Toys R Us (him, not me. Though I just about joined him once he was done. Curdled milk anyone?), potty training (peeing on cheerios, always a good time. Again, him, not me), typical preschool years of adjusting to his new twin sisters and wondering why their “parts” were missing, onto the early elementary era which involved the usual childhood events like a traumatic bike accident that took place on a flat cemented sidewalk and causing him to be hospitalized for a week with spleen and liver contusions and bruised ribs. Did I mention the bike had training wheels? I swear, you had to have seen it to believe it and no, he will never live it down. Yes, he had his helmet on. Then onto Middle School, where all preteens are kidnapped and invaded by moody, mouthy and irresponsible body snatchers while your child inwardly goes dormant only to resurface once puberty is over as a beautiful butterfly or young adult. They both drink a lot of sugar water, so whichever. We refer to those as the Dark Years. Which brings us to High School where he reemerged once again as my long lost Son and my reward for all those years of insanity? I now get to help him study for the SATs. Wait, what?! Can there at least be some wine involved (Ok, this time, me not him).

Who invented the SATs anyway and my other question is, why?? Oh sure it makes sense as a young person hoping and praying to get in the College of your dreams. That is all you and your friends talked about. But as an adult and having to be on the other side of the wallet while you schedule the exam, pay for the test, order books for studying, flash cards for reviewing and spend hours trying to get your child to study and/or helping them study? Oh and the icing on the cake, I can only imagine the conversation between the SAT inventors, “Hhmmmm, how can we make his even more irritating for all involved. We already got their money, increased the stress the household. Gave their moms’ a few more gray hairs. Huh. Wait!I know, let’s make the test start at 7:00 am on a Saturday! There, that should do it!” It is obvious, the whole thing is a scam for money and just another way kids can drive their parents insane. One other explanation, Karma.

Helping my son study for the SATs is even worse than the first time I had to study. No one told me I would have to do it twice in a life. Then, I realized; wait, I have 2 more kids……..I need Advil. Or more wine. Maybe wine with Advil.

Update (kid you not)-

While using the flashcards: “Ryan, what is eclectic?” “When you have seizures.”

Also, the card for “dubious,” the example sentence is, and I quote, “Many critics of the SAT contend that the test is of dubious worth: they doubt the test accurately predicts which students will succeed in college.” Finally, someone with some common sense! And yes, he got that one wrong too.

Advertisements

One thought on “SATs

  1. […] BTW- Incase you were wondering why the mom that is perfection was awake at such an early hour, she was making sure her son was up in time for his SATs. You will have to check out that post to learn more about that! https://didyouhearwhatjulessaid.wordpress.com/2014/10/10/sats/ […]

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s