... a funny thought.
But there it is, for tomorrow morning she takes the PSAT, the first standardized test she has ever taken. And then we will know, or so the presumption goes, precisely how standard her achievements are. Right.
I am not exactly a fan of achievement tests, and frankly I struggle not to resent every hour Fa-So-La-La has spent huddled in the corner with her Kaplan program preparing for this blasted thing -- hours which otherwise could have been spent on truly worthy pursuits. But even academic rebels like us must occasionally bow down and conform... acquiesce to being standardized. And so, off she goes at 7 AM to fill in little ovals with a number two lead for three hours.
It occurs to me that the advent of the PSAT and SAT on Fa-So-La-La's life calendar heralds the beginning of the end of our long, wonderful academic journey together. She deserves to do well. I have pushed and pulled and stretched her in a thousand directions, and never once has she grumbled about anything I've ever asked her to do. Truly, she has been a remarkable student, as well as a stimulating and convivial companion. Living and learning with her has made me a much better human being.
Fa-So-La-La has accepted, from the very beginning of kindergarten, that her father and I have a mandate from the Lord to train her well, and that she has a mandate from Him to obey -- and to do so with all her might, and with a cheerful heart. To learn for His glory and not her own. To climb mountains not just because they are there, but because God made them and put them there. She has wholeheartedly embraced that mandate as a responsibility before the Lord, and she has never faltered in taking it very seriously.
It's all of grace, and I am thankful for these blessings.
And I am praying that tomorrow morning, and always, the Lord will more than match her effort, and that He will withhold no good thing from her.
ps. Fa-So-La-La's friends will find this chucklesome: she is doubtless the only student taking the PSAT tomorrow whose mother is weird enough to prepare her the night before with a regimen of turkey & dressing, Sacred Harp and yoga. It's like this: I figured the dose of natural tryptophan in the turkey would be soporific for her chronic insomnia, an hour of belting out Sacred Harp with all her bestest friends singing along on a CD would transport her poor Kaplan-ified brain to a happier zone (which it did, thank you all), and yoga is... well, it's yoga. Knocks her out every time. So there you have it -- PSAT prep at the Beehive: turkey, Sacred Harp and yoga. I guess I'm a tad unusual, as mothers go.