"But That's Not What My Teacher Said"

After my last post about being busy, I fell sick the very next day.  I'm still recovering as I write and I write with permission from Sam.

After laying in bed for two days with a high fever it finally came down and so naturally I felt a little better.  I decided I would do a few things that day even though I was still sick.  The biggest priority was going to the doctor, but I also had some errands that involved taking kids where they needed to go with me just staying in the car.

I had just finished picking up my prescription of horse pill antibiotics when Sam jumped in the car for his ride home and announced, "I gotta go shopping!"

"Shopping!  Can't it wait!"

"No, I need a compass!"

"A compass.  Your dad has one at home.  You've used it before."  I know he knows this and yet I'm repeating it because I don't want to buy a compass.

Sam said, "Not that kind of compass (as in Scouting).  I'm talking a compass for Geometry."

"Oh, didn't I tell you to get one of those when we were buying the protractor earlier in the school year?  I told you you would need one."

"You never said that!  Besides, it wasn't on the list then and now he wants us to have one."

How come I'm the only one that remembers these conversations that supposedly never happen. I'm amazed once again at my wisdom and here I sit thinking about how I could have saved a buck at the beginning of the year when all the school supplies were discounted.  You might even think we owned one already being that this is the last of my seven children to take Geometry.  Where are those compasses?  I don't know!  Probably upstairs in my kiddie art bag.  Surely a few have survived, but I'm not looking.  I just drive hopelessly ahead to Staples.

I just keep thinking how we could have made this purchase in August when I was at least feeling a little more chipper.  I admit my illness has given me this angst. This whole thing is reminiscent of everyone one of my children at age five when my creditability with anything academia would go out the window.  In there eyes I use to know everything, now nothing.  Each of them in turn would come home from kindergarten and explain something to me about what their teacher wanted.  I admit sometimes I don't know what teachers want, but I've been around the block with teachers, kids, and yes, I even use to go to school.  Sometimes I actually know what is expected.  I then in turn explain to my child what the teacher "really" meant when they said that and they will look up at me with confident eyes and say, "But that's not what my teacher said."

So here I go again with a sixteen year old.  I start to question my abilities.  I think back, "I got a B+ in Trig (my highest math class when I went to college). Ya, Ya, I know I'm right on this math stuff,"  as I try to convince myself I'm not crazy as to why we didn't purchase a compass earlier.

I could have sent Sam in with money, but I usually use my debit card these days and didn't have enough cash on me to buy anything.  I thought I was just going to pick him up from school so I wasn't prepared for this errand.  I'm delirious with the idea that I have to get out of the car.  I look like I just rolled out of bed and I had.  I was wearing what I slept in.  I get out of the car and put on my coat hoping to cover up my obvious weirdness.  I don't look that good in public anyway, but I know I've taken "disheveled" to a whole new level.  I'm slow moving, but when we get inside the store I quickly dart to the carts. Sam corrects my action saying, "Mom, we don't need one of those.  We're just getting a compass."

I keep following him and leave the cart behind knowing that made sense, but then I argue, "Yeah, but I might need it to stay steady."  I love shopping carts.  I refer to them as a friendly "pretend walker".  I am definitely more sure footed with one.

We wander a bit looking around and Sam finds the compasses before I do.  I catch up with him and look at the varying products.  At this point, I'm wishing I was in Walmart as I view the prices, but I picked Staples because I knew it would be easier to maneuver.  It was a smart trade-off considering how I felt.  They had an array to pick from that's for sure.  I felt good when he selected one for only $12.  I can't believe I'm saying that.  I still made a face when he showed me his selection thinking it was a ridiculous price to pay.  He said, "Why are you mad?"

"Mad, I'm not mad!  I'm sick and in public at Stables - that's what I am."

I had already turned to head out. We were standing in a crowd of people in a row of school supplies, but as soon as they heard my words, "I'm sick" the crowd divided like the the parting of the Red Sea.  People hovered over to the sides with all the stickers, pens, and whatever product was directly in front of them; providing a convenient path for our departure.  We exited quickly to say the least and I clearly knew we were more of a scene then I cared to own up to.

Today Sam is at school with his compass. I'm at home still sick.  Welcome to my life.  My day to day living is what it's all about. I'll be picking Sam up again at 2:30 p.m. again. I'm sure another adventure awaits us.

 "Trust yourself. 

You know more than you think you do."

Benjamin Spock