Epic Parenting Fail Number 2,365,101

SATs are looming for Mini Seymour. I know, I can’t believe it either! Surely she is still only three?

But no, it seems she has some grown-up assessments coming soon, and I will declare right here that she is by no means ready.

Therein lies the first part of the current parenting fail. I have not taught her enough.

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There was a meeting after school today, about the SATs. Standard Assessment Tests if you like, or Stupid Arse Tests if you don’t.

I didn’t know whether to go or not. It is not like me not to go to these things, but…

I figured that I’ve had three kids do SATs already (Covid permitting), so I kind of know the score. I’ve spent a lot of time in schools discussing SATs and the curriculum. And then I realised that, when it comes to Mini Seymour, SATs have little or no relevance. She is way behind and her skills lie elsewhere. 

This is not apathy, but rebellion. My little girl is going to struggle with these stupid arse tests, and the last thing I want is for her to think that I think they matter.

Of course,  if she were different, they might matter. They would be a representation of her “level”, and where “value needs to be added” to her knowledge in the education system going forward. They would show what she has learned, what she has been taught, what she understands, and what she can regurgitate. For a while, anyway. Until it all falls out of her head a short time later. As is perfectly normal. 

But, bless her, she just isn’t the kind of kid who can remember stuff for tests. She can read enough to get by, and she is a beautiful artist. She dances and sings, and has lots of confidence in those fields. She is kind and tolerant, friendly and polite and she is an all round good egg. 

But the best part is her sense of humour. She can take a joke, and she likes a laugh. Which brings me to the other part of the parenting fail…

Mini Seymour’s middle name is Potato.

Well, OK, it’s not her real middle name. It’s not legal or official or anything like that. Of course it’s not. It’s just funny! It scans well, as they say. It flows.  And it raises a giggle.

After school today, though, she looked up at me and asked, “Mummy, is Potato my real middle name? Because my teacher asked me.”

Firstly, I was surprised she didn’t realise it was a joke  – have I genuinely convinced her that I named her partially after an ugly but versatile root vegetable for real?

Secondly, I was surprised her teacher had to ask. But the thing that surprised me most was that Mini wrote her full  name, including unofficial middle name, down on her practise SATs paper, Potato and all. 

Oh gosh, my poor kid.

Bless her, after a moment of confusion and – it seems, disappointment that Potato is not legally binding, we laughed the whole thing off, and I decided that, as far as she is concerned, SATs are just not worth worrying about. 

Maybe, just maybe, after dreading all my kids growing up, this is an epiphany moment; perhaps the looming end of primary school is not so scary after all. I dreaded all of the others leaving Year Six, but maybe my mini one is ready. Even if she flunks the SATs, the world had better be ready for her. Because she’s amazing.