When Fractions Backfire

Ella has been doing a great job on her math recently. You may recall, or if not I'll fill you in, Ella was way behind in math when we started homeschooling. And she was not a fan of math. She dreaded seeing her math book come out. But now, (prepare for a happy dance) she's totally caught up. It's still not her first choice for fun, but at least she doesn't drop her head on the desk in a pitiful show of defeat when it's math time.

Anyway, a few weeks ago I was teaching her about equivalent fractions. Part of the lesson involved choosing the larger of two fractions. When Ella looked at a problem that asked if 1/3 or 1/4 was larger, she chose 1/4 as the larger fraction because 4 is bigger than 3. And while I appreciated her logic, I had to explain to her why 1/3 is actually bigger than 1/4.

I started with straight mathematical reasoning...and as I watched her eyes glaze over, I was pretty sure I could hear my voice becoming the Charlie Brown teacher drone, whaa, whaa, whaa, in her little head. So I switched tactics and went for cake. Not real cake...mathematical cake. Which is way more interesting than mathematical reasoning, even if it's not as tasty. Here's how the conversation went:

"Ella, imagine you had a big cake."

"Ok!"

"Now, imagine that you had to share that cake with two friends. And everyone had to get the same size piece."

"Got it."

"Now, imagine that another friend showed up. Now there are four people and everyone still has to get the same size piece. So because there are more people sharing the cake, each piece will have to be smaller, right?"

"Right."

"But if there were only three people sharing the cake they could all have a bigger piece, right?"

"Right."

"So, Ella would you rather share your cake with two friends or with three friends?"

Scrunching her face and thinking for a minute "I'd rather share with three friends that way I could have more people over to play."

Uhhhh, kinda hard to argue with that.

What If I Don't Have All The Answers?

So far in our homeschooling adventure I'm feeling pretty smart. I've been able to explain addition, subtraction, grammar and phonics without having to resort to Google...yet. I haven't had to stop and look up an answer...yet. I don't need the answer keys in the back of the books...yet. But I know the day is coming, and approaching fast, when Ella is going to ask me a question and my brain is going to go completely blank. I'm pretty sure it will involve the semi-colon, but it may come sooner than that.

I choose to believe that when that moment comes I will have the humility and the good humor to be able to say, "that's a great question. I don't know the answer, let's go look it up."

This weekend in the middle of a blizzard I was confronted by the sudden realization, and accompanying panic, of not knowing the answer. There weren't any complex weather related questions asked, but as I watched the snow fall and fall, I was gripped by massive anxiety. I had no idea what to do in two feet of snow. My husband is a little busy in a war zone at the moment so it was just me and the kids and "Snowmaggedon" as the storm has been named and I was in charge. Me, a Southern California girl who doesn't like to be cold.

I looked at my sweet children, the weight of knowing that I was responsible for their safety settling heavily on my shoulders...and driving me straight to the good chocolate on the top shelf. I knew that I didn't know what to do. But Ella and Jack didn't know it. They were completely unfazed by the storm, totally at peace and anxious to get outside and play. They looked at me and figured that if Mommy wasn't scared then they didn't need to be either.

So here's what I learned...I won't always know the answer. But it's my reaction to not knowing that my kids will remember. Besides, there's always Google.