To My Student Taking TCAPS... And His Teachers

TCAPs. Tennessee Comprehensive Assessment Program. 

Better known to parents as: The Week of "Oh crud, I have to send a healthy snack to school, make sure we get to bed on time, get 30 minutes of physical exercise after school and eat eggs and fresh fruit for breakfast or somehow my kid's teacher will know we didn't do any of that and think I am a terrible parent." 

Ok. So now that I've renamed it (appropriately, if I do say so myself), let me talk to you teachers for a second. This is the 2014 version of this "letter" and while yes, I know Cooper only has one teacher, I am not singling her/you (oh, gosh, could she be reading this!!??) out. This is just... me taking a deep, cleansing breath. So... I'm sorry, first of all. This has nothing to do with you. I promise on the fact that I promise we won't be eating fresh eggs and whole grains for breakfast every morning next week (now you KNOW I mean it) that this isn't about you. We live in a small town. I know it's not Little House on the Prairie small or anything, but it's pretty small and I know at least 50 teachers in our town if not twice that and I am friends with many of you, close friends with some, and most definitely friends on Facebook where I mainly post these blogs. So, I'm not really into confrontation, which means if I thought this blog would cause problems between you and me, I wouldn't write it. Swear. 

Now. To the issue at hand. I only have one child in the house taking these tests and that same child is the child that doesn't LOVE school.  I have to let Cooper know something about this upcoming week of standardized tests (are they still called that? I don't know. Sorry, to Whomever, if they aren't)... 

I. Don't. Care. Whew. Annnnnnd, release the deep, cleansing breath... 

I typed it, even after that big paragraph written to you teachers and my heart, I swear, skipped a beat (that's how much I hate confrontation. I haven't even posted this stupid thing yet and I'm already scared of you). Teachers, please don't hate me. My kid puts so much pressure on himself it makes me physically ill. Just today in the car he says to his sister, 18 months younger, "wow Kendall. This is weird. I am one of the smallest kids in my class and you are one of the tallest in yours. And also, I'm not smart at all and you are really smart. I bet you're one of the smartest kids in your class. That's cool." I don't know what you're thinking, but I was driving and I almost pulled over. I didn't know whether to react to the part where he doesn't think he's smart or the part about how stinkin' nice he was to his sister. My point is, he already thinks he's no good in school, so why am I going to make this week of TCAPs and the weeks before so darn HARD for him? I know everyone at school is already talking TCAPs 24/7. I know you teachers are stressed and those long days trying to keep 20+ figgity kids sit still for 45 minutes at a time is not your idea of a good break from the norm. I KNOW that some of your students have already turned in their Hippo Food (probably after 3 days, darn overachievers) and you've bought practice books and whatnot. That's fantastic for you. Really! I might even be one of those when my crazy school-loving daughter gets there! So no judgement here. But for now, for my sweet, wonderful, hilarious, free-spirited, go-with-the-flow boy, we're going to just wing this and see what happens. 

So instead of being worried about what we're eating and how much we're sleeping (if you know me at all, you know I kinda already worry about this enough), we are going to make this a great week. We'll have loads of jelly beans leftover and the stress of the tests at school will give us a great excuse to get a treat at Dunkin Donuts (hello, afternoon coffee for Mom!) or a slushie, all depending on our mood. Heck, maybe we'll do both. They deserve it, they've had a long day! I'm assuming we don't need to worry about AR goals so maybe I'll get to read TO my kids every night. Or, wait! Maybe we'll just forgo reading altogether and watch a movie curled up on the couch after eating cereal for dinner (whole grain, of course). 

So, if I let myself let go of the stress of all this darn testing drama, this could turn out to be a pretty darn good week. Tell you what, teachers, I promise to get my kid to school fed, clothed, bathed and acting relatively normal if you'll promise just to keep him safe and sound like you ALWAYS do (God BLESS you) and try your hardest not to make him cry from boredom. Even though I know you're probably somehow looked at for these test scores in the end, let's just be happy if no Webbs are crying by the end of the week and call it a wash. K? 

So teachers, good luck next week. I promise I'm praying for you because I am smart enough to know this week (and weeks before) is no fun at all for you. Good luck even to you parents who have already done your organic, whole-grain shopping. I kn ow waking up a full hour earlier to bake bread for your homemade french toast is going to be rough. And mostly, good luck to all you parents out there thinking what I'm thinking. I hear ya. See you at Dunkin Donuts Monday at 3!