(Editor's note*: I have found myself dusting off our old family blog and this post draft was lying dormant. I threw in a few edits and put it up here. It is probably a good nine months old by now. *The editor is myself. Colleen)
I am glad I live with inquisitive people. They rope me into their quests to find the answers they seek. Like tonight, I got to revisit algebra with the twins who are studying for their GED. I am a recovering math-phobic. I have pretty much conquered the earlier stuff. I am no longer afraid of fractions or decimals. Simplifying algebraic equations, however, still makes my palms sweaty.
I took a few deep breaths and shoved memories of the very bald, very red faced, screaming football coach from my mind. I was fourteen again and had just dropped his algebra class. It had become the class joke to see if Colleen got ANY answers *right* on the most recent test. Sometimes I got none correct. It was actually a two-fold problem. I didn't understand math, and I couldn't see the blackboard. I was in dire need of eye glasses, and I hadn't quite convinced my mom to take me to the eye doctor. (She regrets this now. She thought I was still playing a childish game of needing glasses the same way that I used to play I had blonde hair by throwing a yellow sweater over my head. My current vantage point assures me kids grow up much faster than parents realize. But I digress...)
Back to the algebra class. I knew I had to back up to the very beginning if I was ever to make sense of it. When the coach found out, he was livid. He let loose on me right in front of half the school in the cafeteria during a study hall. My brother got up and walked over to me and whispered, "Go to the library, Coll." And I did. I quietly got up and walked away from him. And that teacher never yelled at me again.
The next day, I sat in Ms. Piazza's class. I loved her. She explained everything in the simplest terms. I still barely understood the math, but I loved the teacher and she made me want to try. I probably got by with a C in pre-algebra for the rest of the term and went on to take her algebra class the next year and got about the same, but I passed and felt good about myself.
Where was I going with this? Oh yeah. The twins. They are studying for their GED test with their friend Kim. They called me out to Brady's warehouse office to help them figure out a problem. We collectively were able to figure out how to get the same answer that the study website had. Score!
Paul had been wanting to read the book Deep State Target. I requested it on Overdrive and taught Paul how to put Kindle books on his phone. He is now contentedly reading the book next to me right now, periodically reading portions to me. I told him I would show him tomorrow how to access the whole library of Kindle books that we have. (He is definitely entry level on this particular bit of technology.)
My kids are all generally interested in all sorts of things. The other day I was super stressed, so Trent sat me down and highlighted what he's been reading in a Dale Carnegie book. He had a little bit of a simplistic formula for managing stress that actually made some sense. (I did point out that the person causing the stress really cannot be the one instructing how to alleviate it. He agreed with a sheepish grin.) He and Brock, who also read the Carnegie book, have swapped ideas they've gleaned. Makes for some pretty interesting dinner time conversation. Taking Trent's advice, I have it in the queue of Audible books on my phone now.
We have a long running joke at our house that we excuse all knowledge of music and song of any genre by claiming we heard it "at Dollar General". When one of the boys happens to display an uncommon amount of information about song or singer, "Oh, I heard it at Dollar General," is the only source reference required. We all know the person didn't get a lick of that information while picking up band-aids, shampoo, and toilet paper. It is common knowledge our local Dollar General only ever plays the local country music station!
Part of the fun of having children is all the engaging conversation. This starts happening about as soon as they begin to talk, but it picks up momentum as they grow. Trevor, for instance, just turned eleven. He is about as well versed in current events and the intricacies of some political policies as I anyone I have ever met, child or adult. Sometimes I ask him for a quick overview of some headline I have come across. Saves me some reading time. Trevor is also good for some thought provoking and sometimes comical political cartoons. I wonder what in the world he is going to be when he grows up. For now, he is an artist and political commentator. (I will edit in some of his work, stay tuned for that!)
~Colleen
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