That did not stop all the boys calling it an 'entrance exam'. And for the past week or so, my boy was getting more anxious and more hyper as every day passed. He wasn't too worried about it being difficult, oh no! His worry was all about having to sitting still for three hours. We talked and talked, and scribbled notes went back and forth to school.
Yes, there was a short break mid-morning.
Yes, his SNA would be with him.
No, he didn't have to stay until the end.
Still the anxiety levels increased. I introduced bribery, and the promise of lunch out afterwards in the cafe by the park that does the yummy smartie cookies (and nice coffee for Mum!).
But this morning, with just an hour to go, he was still saying that he couldn't do it. 8am came and went, somehow I stayed calm, and something I said must've got through ... if only I could remember what it was... Because he finally got up, ate something and reluctantly got on the bus.
Then I waited. Phone close by, just in case.
At 12.30pm I left the house, with big sister Angel, and we headed for the school, and waited in the entrance hall and tried not to look at the double doors that stood between us and the school hall where the test was being held.
Two boys went in.
Two boys came out. Different ones.
The test was due to finish in a few minutes.
Perhaps he needed a few minutes to process the experience? Shortly afterwards he appeared on the stairs, with coat and bag, and hood tightly fastened.
"It wasn't as stressful as I thought," he said.
You could have heard our sighs of relief from a mile away.
|Support from the big sister|