The Most Beautiful Finish Line I've Ever Seen

I've been having panic attacks about this last section of the CSET since I found out back in January or whatever that I had to take it. The only test that could have possibly been worse for me than economics, civics, and California history is science. But I would not touch a science test with a ten-thousand foot pole, so really, this was the worst possible test. On my first practice test I got 25, 40, and 40%, respectively. Doomed. Nevertheless, I wanted to keep my job, so forge ahead I must.

So I spent the rest of my summer and the first two weeks of school studying my buttcheeks off. Every time Ben was napping, every evening when he went to bed, every recess, every lunch, me and my books were spending quality time together. I took the last week of summer off because I was losing my mind. I slowed down a lot the last couple of days this week because I felt like I used to in that last lap around the track in a cross country meet: exhausted, ready to collapse, praying for that last surge of adrenaline to get me across that distant line that is now so damn blurry I'm just going to have to assume it's still there. That was me from Wednesday until Saturday morning. Around 8:30am, after a great power breakfast of eggs, spinach, and potatoes (made by the best husband in the WORLD), I felt that final surge. So for the next five hours I finished every last chapter of my books, no breaks. Of course, my abandoned child was literally pounding on the bedroom door and crying for his mother, which made it all the more easy to concentrate. At 1:00, not at all confident and very much exhausted, I left my screaming child in the hands of his daddy and got in the car. On my way to Cypress High School, it all started to come. I got it. I knew all about market failures, aggregate supply and demand, monetarism, keynesianism, Adam Smith's invisible hand, and diminishing marginal utility. I could tell you all about the differences between civil liberties and civil rights, checks and balances, federalism, congressional committees and subcommittees, and special interest groups. I was overflowing with information about Junipero Serra, the Bear Flag Revolt, Hiram Johnson and the progressives, Mexican land grants, and the gold rush. I knew it. I was really ready.

I flew through the test in 45 minutes. It was hard, and there were several questions of which I was unsure. But I could have gone on for pages about the three short essay questions, and there was nothing I'd never seen before. In short, I think I killed it. Of course, I can't be sure. I've taken practice tests where I felt like I knew something and it turns out I didn't. And the way they score the tests is an incomprehensible mystery. But I really think I did it.

What did I do? I gave myself, in eight months, a collegiate level of knowledge about a discipline in which I had taken all of three entry-level college courses 12 years ago.

So I totally deserved the three adult beverages I consumed during our friends' wedding right after (but that's a story for a different blog).

So now here I am, for the first time in eight months, with a napping child and nothing to do. I can watch ER, work on photo albums, take a nap, spend an inordinate quantity of time on Facebook, and anything else my little heart desires, guilt free. Sure, until a few minutes ago Ben was screaming himself to sleep on account of the totally understandable separation anxiety. But when he wakes up, I will be here, with no books, just to be with him. And I will be a happy wife and mama, because I will have truly rested.

The End.