mathematics schmathematics

Although I'm finally coming to terms with the fact that kids have homework now starting in kindergarten (something I find completely unnecessary), I truly do not enjoy one minute of overseeing it. I try my best to seem cheerful and upbeat when I announce after dinner in a sing-song voice that it's "homework time" knowing that it will be followed by groaning and whining. My second grader will dutifully find a pencil, get settled at the table and start whittling away at a math worksheet, followed by a "word sort". Usually it's a mildly unpleasant experience for us all but lately it's become even worse.

"I'm not good at math!" He says with tears in his big blue eyes. "I'm the second worst one in the class!"

"How do you know that? You can't compare yourself to other kids. Lots of people look like they know what they're doing and have no idea. Actually, it's usually the people who act like they know everything that know nothing," I explain to him. But he is still distraught. I go on to reassure him that his teacher is happy with his progress and he is exactly where he should be.

When it comes to his word sorts he whizzes through them. He has a fantastic vocabulary for a seven year-old and he even writes poems and short stories, voluntarily, in his free time. My husband is a wordsmith and I have always preferred letters over numbers so I guess it's in our boy's blood. Don't worry, we have never spoken of our disdain for algebra in front of any of our kids. We don't want to taint them with the knowledge that they may just not be math people either.

I know that there are certain people in my family (Dad) that will take what I'm saying as blasphemy. I understand that math cultivates higher levels of thinking and all that. I can admit that math is a necessary evil and some people build entire civilizations and careers around it. I also know that the only math I've ever actually needed since I left school is addition and subtraction. Balancing my checkbook is really the only math I do. I have never come across a problem in my life where I though, "Damn! If only I could remember the algebraic equation to solve this!" I do not feel that my quality of life is in anyway lowered by the absence of calculus or geometry in it. The movie Apollo 13 depicts my worst nightmare: having to do math to calculate how to get around the moon and save your own life because your computers are down. I shudder to think about it.

All people have their strengths and weaknesses. Everyone has gifts that can enrich their lives and the fabric of our communities. In any given group of people you will find artists, writers, scientists, musicians and yes, math people. If we were all the same, wouldn't things be lopsided and boring? So what I want to know is if we're going to subject all children to years and years of math, why not subject them all to years and years of art and music, too. Not just "electives."

I sometimes hear certain kinds of people (math people) say, "I'm not creative at all." And they can get away with that and barely be forced out of their comfort zone. An art class here, a music class there (mostly in elementary school), and they are done. They don't have to take class after miserable class! Let them get a stomach ache while having to stand in front of the class and paint a masterpiece on the board. I can still remember the horror of high school algebra, having to work problems out on the chalkboard under the glare of the soft, doughy, pale teacher. I could hardly sleep the night before, worrying about the homework that made no sense and the test that was coming up. Did the math people have to lose sleep over pinch pots? Or basket weaving? Did they have to take tests on their ability to produce a beautiful song or painting? No! because people just assume that if you aren't creative, you just aren't creative. So why do we all have to be math people?

By the end of say, 5th grade, it's pretty evident who the true mathematicians are and are not going to be. So lets corral them and let them have the best math teachers and resources possible. We'll give a general education to everyone but then focus in on each child's strength instead of trying to force square pegs into a round hole. And we should implement this program within the next few years so that I don't have to hire a tutor to help my son through a class that will do nothing but give him nightmares for the rest of his creative little life.

my husband is a.w.e.s.o.m.e.

When you're coming up on ten years of marriage, it's something to be proud of but can also make you realize just how settled you've become. I mean, when your lives revolve around young children things can become a little tedious and redundant, no matter how healthy your marriage is. So last Friday came as a huge surprise to me.

I had just picked up my 2nd grader from school and was trying to figure out what was for dinner. The boys were in the front yard with the neighbor's kids and I wandered out to visit with their mom. She crossed the street and I immediately noticed that she looked like the cat who ate the canary. "What?!" I asked her. "What's going on?"

"Nothing!" she replied.

Then she asked me what our plans were for the weekend we chatted about the usual things.

I told her I'd rented some kid movie and maybe we'd have popcorn and stay up late with the boys.

She still looked fishy to me but I just went back home. A few minutes later the doorbell rang. I thought it was the boys messing with me but instead I found a man with flowers standing there. I thought he might have the wrong house since we have nothing going on right now- no birthdays or anniversaries. But they were for me!

I brought them into the kitchen and opened the card, wondering what on earth it was going to say.

"Drinks, dinner, little black dress. 5:30. D."

Holy moly. It was 4:30 then. I picked up the phone and called my husband. He was on his way home from work. "What is going on?" I asked him. "Just hurry up!" he said. The flowers were supposed to be there hours earlier so I wouldn't have to rush but the florist had not been on time. And our neighbor was acting weird because he'd asked her to watch the boys while I got ready.

He had even lined up a babysitter! And a free one at that. I rushed to shower and find a little black dress. I could only find a long black dress, but oh well.

Our reservations were for a cute little restaurant that I'd mentioned in passing months ago. The fact that he'd remembered I'd wanted to eat there really surprised me. He'd even lined up a specific waiter referred by a friend.

We arrived there on time and had drinks at the tiny bar that sat three people. Basically, it was an old house converted into a restaurant. Totally my style. The bartender made me a lemon-drop. I'd never had one before and it was awesome. Then we were seated at a corner table right by a window. I even had pillows to lean against.

Our waiter was everything he was said to be: funny, entertaining, and knew a lot about food since he was a chef, too. He was also very gay but was married with three kids. Hmmmm. We've met a few couples like that now and are always intrigued, but that's a whole 'nother blog post.

Anyway, we had so much fun and ate way too much. And it was totally worth it to be reminded that I was so blessed to have married the exact right person for me.