The Family Affair
My kitchen counter has three glasses on it. Inside these glasses are smaller glasses. One bigger glass contains baby oil. One, vegetable oil. The final one, water. Although these glasses have been interpreted as possible glass-shattering experiments by my cats, they are not. These glasses are my son's "light refraction" science fair project (heretofore deemed the "Family Science Project" or "FSP.")
I remember exactly three things from my entire school career in regards to science: I remember not to mix vinegar and baking soda. I remember stamens in flowers because they were like a certain part of the male anatomy. I remember that water, ice, and steam are all made of the same stuff. And I remember that only science geeks entered the science fair. Sorry, that's four things. I didn't excel at math until college.
In today's scholastic clime, participating in the science fair is mandatory. Today, the Google search "easy science fair projects" is an auto-completed search the second someone types in the word "easy." It's only second to "easy recipes for coq-au-vin" and "easy DIY roofing." Parents all over the country do this search. Children do not. This is because children come up with their own science projects out of their diabolically prefrontal cortex-absent minds.
Mom, I have to do a science project.
Okay, what do you want to do?
Now, here are some examples of how the typical child answers:
-I want to know how long it takes for a cat to clean himself after he's been totally smeared in peanut butter.
-I want to see how loud you can play music before you burst an eardrum.
-I want to know if there are aliens from other planets living in Tacoma.
-I was thinking about making a car run on vegetable oil, matches and Pop Tarts.
-I was wondering if ____(name of younger sibling) could fly if we glue paper plates to his/her hands and throw him/her from a second story window.
-I want to prove that listening to scream-o rock makes you smarter.
-I want to see how many ghost peppers you can eat before you die of internal bleeding.
-I want to show how math causes cancer.
However, the most common answer to the question, is this: I dunno.
This is when you, the parent, ask, "When is this due?"
Usually after some hemming, hawing, foot shuffling and watching imaginary butterflies cascade around the room, your child will say: "Smthtommrrehmmsomthng."
"What was that?" you ask.
"Tomorrow."
After you close your mouth and re-insert your eyes into their proper sockets, you have to make an on-the-spot, split decision: do you start lecturing about lack of planning, responsibility, procrastination and how all three of those play into an exciting career in an under-management position at Del Taco, or do you spazz in a fit of harried alarm and start Googling?
I do the latter, while simultaneously lecturing in what might be characterized as mild verbal abuse. But everyone is different, so that's okay.
The first Google search nets pages of ideas for simple science fair projects. As you read them, however, you realize you have to refine your search to read: "easy science fair projects you can do at home in less than four hours using household items already on-hand in order to avoid an evening trip at rush hour to Home Depot, the grocery store, the craft store, Costco, and the local garbage dump."
To save you all some time, the latter search usually comes up with several in-patient treatment centers, so just save yourselves the trouble. Now, as you're scrambling on the ether, your child will usually come up with ideas on his own (read the above list.) It's important here that you be supportive and encourage his interest in scientific experimentation, all the while avoiding words like "moron" or "dumbass." We want them to love learning.
However, it's important to give your child reality checks when they talk about their experiment ideas. Some supportive phrases you are welcome to employ:
I think it's a little late in the game to find an antelope.
We'd probably need an airtight disclaimer on that, sweetie, and we can't afford an attorney right now. Plus finding a live, willing subject to do that might be a challenge.
I'm not sure they give out NASA's direct number.
I'm pretty sure that's a Class B misdemeanor, son.
After you and your child have found the easiest, least time-consuming, most-likely-to-have-lying-around-the-house-components project, it's time to involve your partner.
When your partner arrives home from work, tired and ready to settle down with dinner and the fourth season of a Breaking Bad marathon, it's usually a good idea to not let him or her get comfortable--as a matter of fact, make sure he doesn't have time to remove his coat. Remember, you were dealt the blow twenty-seven minutes ago, but your partner is just getting up to speed. He will be going through the same process you went through, so have some patience but keep the ball rolling. It would be best if you send the child to his room during this exchange for his own safety.
Now, if you keep your partner with one foot out the door, he can be the runner while you stay at home and help prepare for the FSP. If you can get a list together before your partner gets home, or more auspiciously, before he gets out of his car, that would be preferable.
After he leaves the house, it's important that you turn the ringer off on your phone. This will help your partner be more creative. Plus, you've got to look up the science fair requirements online on that website the teacher gave you at the first of the year in that packet you filed away with your last eight years' worth of tax documents, so creating your account four months before the end of the school year will be something you'll want to do. You may be tempted to look at your child's grades at this juncture. Don't do it--stay focused. If your partner accidentally gets a call through, fake static and hang up. It's for his own good, really, because the child is partly his and therefore he should shoulder some of the blame for the current mess you're all in.
Your partner will attempt to text you. Ignore, even if you know exactly where he can find sand from Newport Beach in Utah in January, or a rancid sock worn by a street magician. You don't want to set a precedent.
After you've assembled the needed items you have on hand, it's a good idea to get your child started on the written portion of the project. Since you probably know how the experiment will go, you can make the conclusion before you actually do the experiment. The only reason to actually even go through the experiment is for the pictures you will glue or tape to his tri-fold board and the actual science fair later. It's vital here that your child has some hands-on guidance from you with this. Even though you know three, er, four things about science, Wikipedia is your friend. However, remember to have him put things in his own words. Be vigilant and proof it, though. If he writes about how "sick" the explosion is, or how "wicked" the fungus mutation looks, you might want to intervene. If you're going to do this as a family, you want the finished product to reflect the considerable effort that was put into it. (The science teacher knows full well the extent of your involvement, and he or she is secretly judging you.)
When your partner arrives home with the remaining components, you should probably avoid eye contact as he looks at you, then at your blinking phone, then you, then your blinking phone... try to keep his and your focus on the child you both resent at this moment, because that might prove to be a great way to bond and reconcile a little later, after you go to bed.
Okay, now have some fun! Help your child appreciate the wonders of the natural world during the FSP. As his parent, you may feel the need to do just about anything to make sure the experiment succeeds. Try to refrain from fudging stuff. Remember, in a couple of weeks or so, he will have to present the experiment at the actual science fair and if he's next to an Asian kid, he's going to need to shine.
Since your partner had to get creative when you didn't answer your phone, some slight adjusting might be necessary to the experiment. That's okay. Go with your gut on this one. The important thing to remember here is that you are creating an experience with your child that can be used in the long-term for guilting, shaming, and calling in favors for years to come. This kind of parental currency is gold.
The certain frustration and despondency you'll all feel at this juncture is an optimal time to connect with one another and work as a team, so this is a great opportunity to go ahead and order a pizza. Your child will appreciate you even more, and additionally, the whole "dinner" dilemma will be solved. It goes without saying that drinking in medium-to-large quantities before the pizza arrives might compromise the experiment.
It will be extremely tempting to jot off a quick note/email to your child's science teacher to tell her your opinion about science fair projects. Try to employ some self-control here. She's only doing her job and her job requires her to be on medication as it is, so let's just leave her be. A well-thought out letter to the school board will probably suffice, and they aren't in charge of your child's grade and ultimately his future success. It's a good time to find those old magazines and newspapers so you can cut out each letter separately as to remain anonymous when you send off your thoughts to the board.
It's okay to talk about your days as a student with your partner in front of your child during the FSP. He's so used to hearing how rough you had it when you were young by comparison, that telling stories of how only science geeks had to do a project back in the day might make him feel special. Always look for ways to help his self-esteem.
Once the data is compiled, glued onto the board, and the written notes are complete, it's time to pat yourselves on the backs for a job well done. Remind yourselves that your kitchen needed repainting anyway and that you are good parents for rallying to save the day by helping your child get a decent grade in science this quarter.
After you locate the cat, go ahead and settle down for some relaxation time while your child plays some first-person shooter games and enjoys his well-earned down time. Remind yourselves that the next time a project like this sneaks up on you, you'll be prepared. You can even start now by getting some yogurt, a heating pad and an old shoe and set that right up in the basement next to the Christmas boxes. Always be prepared is the lesson here.
You may not remember science from your days in school, but you know what it takes to help your child succeed in this world. That's the take away, really, of this whole thing.
And make sure you ground him for a week. Every moment can be a teaching moment.
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