Mothers
with Attitude

Family Man

Notes from a father with attitude

Numbers Impaired
>> by Ken Swarner

No one in my family comes to me when they have a math problem to solve. They'll ask their friends, neighbors, grandfathers, even a gerbil before they'll seek my advice. Heck, I think my son asked the cat to explain Pi the other night. I'm that bad with numbers.

When my children need help on their math homework and I am the only adult standing in the room, they'll say things like: "Where's mom?" and "I suppose I'll just take a zero on this assignment."

I've never been good with math concepts. Admittedly, that may have something to do with the fact that I didn't pay attention in math class as a kid. That, and my parents still refuse to admit they dropped me on my head when I was young. I won't go so far to say that I choose journalism because I am math impaired -- namely because statistics (math) was a requirement for my journalism degree, and yeah, I failed it. Thank goodness I did all right everywhere else.

The funny part is that my parents could have sucked at math and I would have never known it because the relationship back then between parents and schoolwork was nearly nonexistent. Not so anymore. These days, parents are on the front lines when it comes to school homework. We are expected to sign assignment planners, keep track of our time reading with our kids, and be that go-to source for homework help. Math has been no exception.

Don't get me wrong, I was fine up to the point my children passed the fifth grade. I can do division, multiplication, and "manipulate" those colored blocks (whatever that was about). But, starting in sixth grade, the kids entered the beginning of algebra and I was soon lost. I made up every excuse I could think of to save face.

My excuses:
1. "Ow! I think a bug flew in my eye!"
2. "This isn't the math we did when I was a kid. Is this new math?"
3. "Who wants ice cream?"

After awhile, of course, my children figured it out. They're good at figuring.

It's hard to admit, but I'm no longer the superman in my children's lives. Where I could once handle every question and situation that came their way, I am now lucky to get it right half of the time. As my teenagers and I get older, I've noticed that more and more they can do certain things better than I can. And that's a little tough to get used to.

I think it's been a little disappointing for them as well. That transition from child to young adult is full of many mysteries including "How did my dad, who knew everything, suddenly get so stupid?"

I guess that's just life. I am confident enough to know its okay I'm not as good as they are at everything, and, hopefully, the feeling is mutual with my kids. I am, however, a little tired of having to constantly fish out my college diploma to prove to them that I actually graduated.

Sigh.


[Ken Swarner is author of "Whose Kids Are These Anyway." He can be reached at kenswarner@aol.com.]

copyright 2006 by Ken Swarner