"The Only Bummer is Math..."

Max: “The life of a 2nd grader is great. You get to cut with knives and break some rules. The only bummer is math. “


Math…ugh. I have a long-standing hate-hate relationship with math. I was never good at it and it gave me a pit in my stomach when I had to do it. I remember many a night whining “I can’t do this” while laying across the kitchen table as my mother—a school teacher— quizzed me on multiplication tables. Don’t even get me started on long division. And in my brain, X can never equal Y. Ever.

I’ve tried very hard not to put my fear and loathing of math on to Max. But while we’ve sat at the kitchen table working on double-digit addition and subtraction (with regrouping) I’ve witnessed the draped-on-the-table, whiny, “I hate math” look my mother saw 30-something years ago. Proving as she has always said, “apples don’t fall far from the tree.”

So, how do I encourage Max to work hard at something that is necessary but he clearly doesn’t enjoy? I decided to share with him my struggles in math. I told him that I didn’t always think I was good at math and that I complained to my mom (a lot) when I had to do it. But then I explained why math is important and how I use it every day to do things at work and at home. I also told him how many of the things he’s interested in require math. I also admitted to him that if I had applied myself and whined less, I would have been better at math.

Thanks to a patient teacher, his godmother (who is also a 2nd grade teacher) and lots of hard work by Max, he is making great progress and couldn’t wipe the smile off his face when the certificate (pictured above) came home in his backpack.

The Tooth That Wouldn't Come Out

Max lost his first tooth in November 2007 during kindergarten. He pulled it out himself and was quite matter of fact about it. The rest came out easily—one was swallowed because it came out while he was eating a Subway sandwich—and yes, we had to discuss how it would leave his body.

But then, there’s the tooth that wouldn’t come out. It has been loose forever. Really, really loose for what seems like a year.

“Max, that tooth is so loose, you can just pull it out.” I told him.

“But Mom, (in his best drama-filled voice) it will HURT and it will BLEED and I AM SCARED.”

“How about biting into an apple, that will help it come out,” I suggested.

“Duh, Mom, I don’t like apples, only applesauce and I doubt it will come out eating applesauce.”

True.

Max had a dentist appointment in December and after the examination Dr. Guthrie explained that he and Max discussed in great detail how the tooth really needed to come out and Max assured him that he would take care of it immediately.

Umm, right.

Fast forward to now. Yes, I have reminded, asked, begged, offered, and still, the tooth is there.

Tonight, as I watched him wiggling it with his tongue and making a weird noise, I decided it was ultimatum time.

“OK, Max here’s the deal. The tooth has got to come out. Either you pull it or I am.”

“Mom, no, let’s talk about it. I really want to talk about it.”

This is his number one stall tactic…talking about it. Which consists of his stellar negotiation skills that will serve him well someday in the real world. Just not now or with me.

“There is nothing to talk about. The tooth is hanging. You have another tooth trying to come in and the baby tooth is in the way. What’s your decision, you or me?”

There was fretting, stalling and finally, he sat down on my lap and said, “OK Mom, let’s do this.”

So before he could change his mind, I reached in and without much effort, the tooth was out.

“WOO HOO AWESOME, that didn’t even HURT and I don’t feel any BLOOD and now it is OUT and the Tooth Fairy can come. Thanks Mom, you are the BEST!” And then, he high-fived me.

After he inspected the tooth and grinned at himself in the mirror, we tucked the tooth in the pocket of the Tooth Fairy pillow and put it on the end of the bed.

“Mom, I’m kinda going to miss that little baby tooth that I wiggled all the time and made that cool noise,” he said. “Oh, well it was time 'cause it has been loose forever."

Exactly.

"I'm Bill Clinton..."

The big day has arrived. The Christ the King Catholic School 2nd Grade President’s Day Program. I’d like to say Max bounded out of bed, pumped for the program and ready to put on his costume but that would be stretching the truth. A lot.

As Max opened his eyes this morning he said, “Mom, I’m scared. There will be lots of people at the program and that makes me nervous.” As we talked more, I explained that he couldn’t let fear keep him from doing things he needs to do, or wants to do for that matter. I told him he would be the best 2nd grade Bill Clinton in the history of the world and that I had 100 percent faith that he would be fabulous. But that in order to be fabulous, he had to get dressed.

Max’s costume consisted of his dad’s shirt, jacket and tie, a circa-1992 F.O.B (Friend of Bill) button courtesy of my friend Christi, and a Bill Clinton-style wig. The last one on the rack at Party Galaxy. I’m certain that was a sign.

“I am not so sure about this wig, Mom. It is itchy.”

“You won’t have to wear it for long and it is perfect, you look just like Bill.”

As he adjusted his wig and looked at himself in the mirror he said, “I think when I do my speech, I will pull my glasses down on my nose because Bill does that when he makes speeches.”

Clearly, Max had studied Bill.

Before he left I reminded him again that he would be great and I would see him at school. “We go in presidential order, Mom, so I will be number 42.”

The kids filed in and sat in their assigned spots. I saw Max craning his neck to find me. He spotted me and smiled. I gave him the thumbs-up and he grinned.

After stunning performances by George, Jefferson and Abe, FDR, Dwight, JFK, Ronald Reagan, George H.W. Bush and all the others, it was time for Bill. Max read his speech, sharing that Bill was born in Hope, Arkansas, was a lawyer before he was president, signed the North American Free Trade Agreement and that he is allergic to Chelsea’s cat, Socks. And then he smiled and stepped down. I could see the relief on his face.

As he spoke, I think my heart was probably beating as fast as Max’s, not because I didn’t have faith, but that is just what happens when a mom sees her child stand up and do something that scares them. As he took his seat, he looked at me and smiled and gave me the thumbs-up.

After congratulatory hugs, pictures and cookies, it was time for 2nd grade to resume and parents to leave. I hugged him and said goodbye. He said, “I did pretty good, Mom.”

No, Max, you were fabulous.

President's Day: The Second Grade Version

Max: We’re having a President’s Day program and I have to choose a president to research. I have to give Mrs. Phoenix my top three.

Me: Who are your top three?

Max: Bill Clinton, Ronald Reagan and George W. Bush

Me: What made you choose them?

Max: Well, Bill Clinton was a guest on the PBS show “Arthur” and I liked that show when I was a kid. Ronald Reagan…well, he’s dead and I thought I should have one on my list who is dead. And George W. Bush, well, I think he might be cool. Or at least kind of cool. But I don’t think everyone thinks so.

Max was given Bill Clinton to research and apparently, was the only kid in second grade who requested Bill Clinton. Parents were told that all research must be done at school because there are things about certain presidents (Bill Clinton) that kids can find on the Internet so at school they can be sure only second grade appropriate information is available.

He's worked hard on his report the past few weeks and has shared lots of interesting facts with me: "Mom, Did you know Bill was impeached by Congress?" (Yes, he is now fondly referring to him as Bill.) On Tuesday at the Christ the King Second Grade President’s Day Program, Max will dress up like Bill and present his report. I asked Max how he should dress and was told that Bill "always wears suits with white shirts." So now I am frantically working on a costume. Stay tuned…photos will be posted on Tuesday.

Becoming a Big Kid

Max: Just so you know, I'm a big kid now because I am upstairs and because I have my own desk with my own stuff in it. And Mom, because I am in 2nd grade there are some little kid things I won't like anymore. Don't be sad, you have the memories.


This is what Max imparted to me on the first day of second grade. Being upstairs is clearly a big deal at Christ the King School, along with having your OWN desk with STUFF. But what I love most is that he worried I would be sad as I saw him walk up the stairs. He was right, I was a little sad. Upstairs was a big deal for me, too.

As I watched him haul his backpack up the stairs, walk to his classroom and find his desk, it seemed like yesterday that his tiny little body was laying in an incubator in the Mercy Hospital NICU...all 3.5 pounds of him. At that moment, when all I wanted to do was hold him, the thought of him bounding up the stairs to a second grade classroom might as well have been 40 years away. Yes, I knew he would eventually do that and much more but at that moment it was hard for me to imagine. I wanted to think of my baby as a second grader but the day to day hurdles were consuming me. I prayed every day for him to reach milestones so he could come home. And five weeks after he was born, he did come home. That was 8 years ago.

The memories of those difficult days of taking one step forward and two steps back can still come rushing at me when I least expect it. Especially on his birthday, which just so happens to be today.

Happy 8th birthday, my sweet boy. You have blessed my life in more ways that I could ever have imagined. Your insight and humor amaze me every day. There are wonderful things ahead for you, Max, I just know it.