Standardized Testing for Parents

Yesterday's mail brought some standardized testing results for Julianna, who's now in first grade.

Like all good, neurotic parents who live vicariously through their children, I was curious to see where she stacked up among her peers.

This particular test was completed on a computer and gauged language arts and math skills. It gave feedback like: "Exceeding expectations," "Meeting expectations," and "Approaching expectations."

Not a whole lot for parents to sink their teeth into.

Nevertheless, it got me thinking ... if I were being evaluated by a standardized test for parents, how would I rate?

I tried to put myself in my kids' shoes to answer the questions ... how would my own kids score my mommy skillz?

My assessment was divided into six critical areas, each of which is expected of mothers -- like it or not.

Here are the results of my self-administered test:

The MOmmy Aptitude Norm (MOAN)

1) Laundry assessment: Meeting expectations. Note: Successfully completed 18 loads of laundry in one week. This included correctly matching and neatly balling up 83 pairs of white socks in four different sizes. Slightly impaired in sheet folding, but made up for it by using two kinds of fabric softener. Unable to assess Mommy in the ironing portion of this section because she flatly stated, "If Daddy wants unwrinkled clothes, he can iron them himself."

2) Carpooling assessment: Exceeding expectations. Note: Mommy is particularly patient in this area considering that she spends approximately 75 minutes in the car each day while traveling only 12 total miles. Extra points given for tying shoes, distributing snacks and band-aids, and changing music CDs multiple times while navigating bumper-to-bumper traffic. Room for improvement in the area of "SUV peacekeeper."

3) Cooking assessment: Approaching expectations. Note: Loses points because Daddy is the primary dinnertime and breakfast cook. If it were up to Mommy, the family would subsist on pizza, mac & cheese, and Chick-fil-a. However, points were awarded because Mommy packs 10 snacks and six healthy lunches per week. Extra credit was awarded for cookies and marshmallows.

4) First aid assessment: Meeting expectations. Note: Excellent at providing ice packs, gauze pads, antibiotic ointment, hugs, ace bandages, anti-itch cream, tissues, and Tylenol for bruises, cuts, aches, pains, and other mysterious boo-boos that appear mysteriously throughout the day and suddenly at bedtime. Also passed the "clean up the puke without puking" portion of this section. Loses points for making Julianna say "ow" when using an ear thermometer.

5) Sewing assessment: Frighteningly below expectations. Note: Mommy is completely incompetent in this area. When asked to sew a button onto a shirt, she was unable to proceed past "threading the needle." Also answered "How do you fix a hem?" portion of the test by snarling: "What do you mean? You just take it to a tailor." Remediation strongly recommended.

6) Snuggling/Cuddling assessment: Exceeding expectations. Note: Mommy is in the 100th percentile in this category. Perfect score.

Back in the Saddle ... Courtesy a Dead Sea Animal

It's been a month since I last blogged, but it's not for lack of material. I've just been lazy about getting it all down on paper (or on screen as the case may be).

But since it's spring break, I have a little extra free time ... so I'm attempting to get back in the saddle.

We just returned from a few days at Myrtle Beach. Not surprisingly, spending so many hours with the kids wielded a bevy of memorable moments.

Yesterday, Julianna insisted on a last visit to the beach to search for seashells. And as I walked with her toward the water, a small sea urchin washed up with the tide.

The urchin (or "sea urgent" as she calls it) was dead, and with LJ's empty bucket, Jack scooped it up and rinsed it off so we could take a closer look.

I would have been happy to launch it back into the sea, but Julianna had grander plans. She immediately bonded with the urgent, named it "Spikey" and carried it back to the hotel room.

Once there, she lined her bucket with tissues and gently placed Spikey in his new bed. Then, she surrounded Spikey with three of her favorite shells ... to keep him company.

Julianna requested (and was denied) permission to take Spikey out to dinner with us, but this morning, she was more committed than ever to her new buddy.

After being reminded that Spikey was now in urchin/urgent heaven, Julianna told me that "dead things have feelings too ... Spikey is my friend and I just want to treat him the way I would want to be treated."

Apparently, the golden rule includes making "Spikey and me" signs for everyone in the family and then forcing us to take pictures with the rotting ball of thorns. (LJ refused to pose).

Spikey made the trip back to Raleigh with us and now has a permanent home in a Tupperware container. Julianna has placed the container on display on the console table in our foyer so that "everyone can see him as soon as they come into our house."

She also plans on bringing Spikey to show and tell at school as soon as possible.

Spikey would not have been my first choice for a spring break souvenir. But at least I didn't give in and get her one of those t-shirts ... the one that says:

My mom went to Myrtle Beach and all she got me was this lousy dead urchin.

Luck of the Irish

For the past two weeks, Julianna has been talking in an "Irish" accent.

But as LJ put it, "She actually sounds more like a German cowboy."

Julianna's fascination with all things green and Irish stems from a book someone read her at school about St. Patrick's Day.

Most recently, her focus has turned to catching a Leprechaun. Tonight, she spent about an hour turning an old shoe box into a trap (pictured). She baited the trap with a miniature chocolate bar wrapped in gold foil.

I asked her what she will do with a Leprechaun if she catches it, and she told me: "I would never hurt it. I just want to say hello and release it."

According to Julianna, the legend says, "If you harm a Leprechaun, you will never get to see another one."

Julianna also says she "made that legend up."

To be certain the Leprechaun knows she means no harm, she made a sign and place it next to her trap (pictured here).

I've warned Julianna how sneaky and tricky those Leprechauns can be. And LJ -- who has made his own unsuccessful traps in the past -- also knows the difficulties of catching one.

But maybe this year, just this once, Julianna will be able to catch one.

All it takes is a little luck of the Irish.

Or in her case, the luck of a German cowboy.

Thomas Jefferson Ate My Homework

LJ and I spent the better (or worse) part of this morning working on his biography of Thomas Jefferson. The goal? To hand-write a four-paragraph report about Jefferson complete with a colorful cover.

When this report was assigned at least a month ago I swore up, down, and sideways that we would not, under any circumstances, wait until the final week to finish the report.

Now here we are, five days out, just starting it. And I am feeling the pressure.

Yes, me. Not him. Because let's be real here. Given that LJ is only in second grade, ultimately, this is my report -- a reflection of my Mommy skills.

At age 8, kids are essentially still puppets on a string. If he is late to school, it's my fault. If he loses his library book, that's on me. And if his biography on Thomas Jefferson stinks, well ... the blame lies here.

I'm not saying that LJ doesn't share some responsibility in any of this. On the contrary, I think reports like this help teach valuable lessons about planning (procrastinating), research (shortcuts), and taking pride in one's work (getting it done).

This report is particularly trying because it combines LJ's two least favorite things -- handwriting and drawing. If it was a vegetable, it would be Brussels sprouts.

But I know we will get through this together -- me with the cattle prodder and LJ with the eraser. Somehow, some way, before Friday, LJ will write those 412 words about Jefferson. And he will craft a beautiful drawing of our third President to go along with it.

I even have confidence that we will complete the accompanying project due just 10 days later. LJ is actually pretty excited about turning a huge piece of foam board into a $2 bill with Jefferson's likeness. Go figure.

Yes, we'll gt it done. Both the paper and the project.

Now, the Thomas Jefferson costume he needs for the class play? That's a whole other matter. Where is Betsy Ross when you need her?

A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words

Put a boy and a girl in front of a camera and ask them to smile: it's a great study of nature vs. nurture and the inherent differences between males and females.

If the boy is anything like LJ, he will groan, contort his face, and make some sort of awkward hand gesture just to add "character" to the picture. If the girl is anything like Julianna, she will fluff her hair, angle her face to her "best side," and then pose like she's a model.

My good friend Angie Brement is a talented child photographer based in the Charlottesville area. While she was visiting us last weekend, she spent some time taking pictures of LJ and Julianna.

I knew going into the photo session that LJ would be less than pleased because he would have to stand still and follow instructions. I also knew that Julianna would be thrilled because she could wear a dress and be the center of attention.

I warned Angie that it might be a difficult session, but with two daughters of her own, she was unfazed.

To convince LJ to participate, we agreed to let him wear his Tyler Hansbrough and Peyton Manning jerseys ... and bring a basketball and football along as "props."

True to form, when Angie started taking pictures, LJ ran in the opposite direction and insisted he only wanted "action" shots of him playing basketball. He also demanded a series of "in-motion" football and track pictures.

Julianna, on the other hand, did not want to lean against or sit on anything that appeared to be even the slightest bit dirty. She was happy to have her picture taken, but she had her own artistic ideas, including posing in front of a garden full of dead flowers.

About mid-way through the session, Angie asked LJ for a "big favor" ... could he please, just for a moment, hold Julianna's hand a walk slowly through a rose arbor.

It was, without a doubt, one of the most painful moments of LJ's existence.

First, he refused.

Then, I threatened him.

Next, he grabbed Julianna's hand and dragged her through the arbor nearly pulling her down.

Then, I threatened him again.

He obliged, but bent over with his head hanging near the ground as if he was thinking, "If any of my friends see me, I will never live this down."

Then, Angie yelled, "Look, an airplane!"

That got his attention for a just a moment -- and that was all Angie needed.

Given LJ's lack of cooperation, it is testament to Angie's photography skills that she got such an adorable picture ... and it's a good thing you couldn't actually see the expression on his face.


http://angiebrementphotography.com/