counting my chickens

i shouldn't count my chickens before they hatch- but i will because it was a glorious day.
after three long years of playing the parent/ teacher role (perhaps better verbs would include 'attempting' or 'pulling my hair out in')  zoe might be going to school next year.  but the decision largely hinged on today- on her performance on a math test- not just the answering ability, but how she would do, sitting and taking a test with out me.

this week was exhausting. on monday we met with the boys school and the newly hired special education teacher- on tuesday we met with rose's birth mom, and today we returned with zoe to the boys school to see how she would do on this test. knowing that zoe has a hard time with tests, and with finishing anything without multiple prompts, and being distracted by almost most sound and new places- i gulped when i heard this was a part of the plan, and then just to be sure i said,

"so you want zoe to sit by herself for an hour and take a math test?"
"yes"
"with out me sitting next to her?"
"that's right."
"okay, but it most likely won't be a reflection of what she knows.  i mean, don't be surprised if after an hour, she's answered nothing but drawn 'littlest petshop pets' all over the paper."
"we'll just have to see." said the head of the school.

gulp.

if i were being graded on parental faith in their child- i would clearly have failed.
but it was defensive- for both of us- and i was staying true to my new years resolution- lowering the expectations.  it's hard to do worse than no answers and a paper covered in cartoons - although if someone happened to vacuum during the test.... yes.. that would definitely be worse.

i figured i'd downplay the whole thing to help her potential anxiety.
"honey, just do your best- it really doesn't matter if you get the answers right- but try to stay focused."  (i resisted the urge to say 'try to do math on the math test- not art' mostly out of fear that i'd plant an idea.)

on the morning car ride i fained full confidence but inside i was having a conversation with God. it went something like this- this is your child and i trust you but really, i'm so scared that she is going to flop and fail and i'll be left holding her bits again- i'm so scared that she'll be afraid and talk incessantly and flap her arms and throw her pencil and use the wobbly voice - i'm so scared that they will say 'no way.'- well- you know all this- so please- just HELP! help her. help me.  and if she's going to crash and burn- i'd rather know now than in the middle of next year- but i'd rather not have that happen at all so- PLEASE help! and there might have even been a little bit of come on- you owe me thrown in there by accident- but of course He doesn't.

we got to school at 7:30 in the rain- me and my four kids in their raincoats. zoe went off to find some friends-which she did.  then she begged to join the year 6 class for 15 minutes before assembly - which i reluctantly let her do- realizing i needed to let her go in order to let her grow.  in the assembly the year 6 teacher asked me if zoe wanted to join the class on stage in a small performance - which of course she did- and loved it.  when the assembly was over- she hoped off to take the math test with the head teacher.

gulp.
"we'll see you in a while!" the teacher said.

40 minutes later- while rose and i watched the bunnies- they emerged both smiling.

"she did great!!" the teacher said. 
"really??" i replied trying to shove the total shock out of my voice.
"really.  no problem."
thank you! i mumbled under my breath.

"so we'll see her next week for the reading part, but i think she will do fine here next year- i think we'll be able to make it work." the teacher said.


then i had one of those moments when i wondered for a second if i was in someone elses life - because mine doesn't usually go like this. it was a moment of pure joy and astonishment and awe - that this might work- that God is good- that she could be back in school- learning with other kids, learning things that she especially needs, that we can't teach at home- like not disturbing others during class, and following directions, and working in a group. it was a moment that i hadn't counted on ever- and hadn't waited for, or even really looked for- because the school offered to try to make it work for zoe. 

i'm not really counting my chickens yet- i'm just so very thankful that the eggs are looking warm and that i can see progress and potential.  thankful for this day.  for those moments.  for zoe's joy and pride in her accomplishment.
"zo, i'm so proud of you!"
"why did i get 100?" she said hopefully.
"not quite, but you focused! you did the test! you didn't get upset, you did your best! that is why i'm proud!"
"you know mom- i think it's because i'm done with homeschooling. it's hard for me to focus with just you and dad. i need to be with other kids."

it was music to my ears.  i hope she's right.  we'll see how next week goes.