Training a Test-Taking Machine

Life is all about balance. So, of course, is parenting. It is hard sometimes to find that perfect balance of “Tiger Mom” and loving, caring easygoing mom. You have to walk a fine line between Mommy and Mommy Dearest. It is hard to figure out just how much “Do It NOW!” is needed compared to days you just need to give your kid a hug. Different situations require different strategies.

One such predicament has now begun in my house over studying. My son is in first grade. He’s the eldest child, so this is our first year of real homework. This is our first year of real tests. While I get that this year’s grades may not totally dash his ability to get into an Ivy League college, I feel like it is the time now to set the tone for the next 12 years.

Well before a report card comes home, we thankfully have the luck of a communicative classroom. We get several notes a week, if not daily, that require our review, our signature and show how well our child is progressing along the way. One major portion of the year’s studies include the big bad yellow folder… spelling!

My son got this canary-colored demon on his very first week of school. It comes home on Mondays and tests for the week are on Fridays. Each week brings about a new list of spelling words to be memorized. Twelve little obstacles must be committed into a 6-year-old’s brain in just five short days.

Up until this summer, I was still teaching our son how to spell his name. His penmanship is still fairly atrocious and let’s not even go there when it comes to capitalization versus their lower-case counterparts.

But now, it is time to grow up or shut up. Each week he has to practice and train to get all of his words right. We spend Mondays writing the words five times each. On Tuesdays, he has to write sentences for each word. If he misspells one from the list, we have to write it three times. Wednesdays, we either do a word search with the words, write a story about them or paint them out in finger paint, tub colors or shaving cream.

I’m no Master Mom. The suggestions for practice came from the school. Come Thursday night, though, that is the true test run. We have a practice test. I read off each word, use it in a sentence and he has to jot it down on his test paper. If we miss one this time, he has to rewrite it five times. It is down to the wire; this is no time for mistakes.

By Friday morning, my little man is sitting at his desk, testing his heart out, trying his damnedest to spell 12 words correctly in a row.

It may sound like a tough routine. Given the tot has football two nights a week, 30 minutes per week of reading to do, math worksheets at least three nights a week and his own desire for this oddity called “play time,” he is a hardworking kid.

I don’t think I’ve yet become too tough on him. I don’t want him pulling his hair out just to learn spelling, but I want him to be well-educated and take his role in the classroom very seriously.

I think it is just the right amount of focus and dedication to keep him working hard, but not quite yet having a total melt down anxiety attack in the first grade. I want to keep him somewhere between perfectionist and the world’s first 6-year-old nervous breakdown.

How’s it going far? We are 12 for 12, three weeks in a row, and I’m happy to report my son has all hair on his head still in tact. Getting him to brush it on the other hand...