Archaeologists, Archaeozoologists.. Hey!! Brain! Come Back!!

I had a memoir writing session to attend today at 1 pm, so I was somewhat rushing to finish off school by 12 pm. It wasn't meant to be. S spent a long time, about almost two hours doing math. It was supposed to be a review and I had bet on her finishing in less than an hour since we already went through it yesterday.

She even started school early, around 8 am. Her problem was regarding rounding numbers to the nearest hundred when the number itself is more than three digits. Sometimes it's beyond me why teaching instructions give easy examples and shove difficult problems down our throat in the first exercise.

I had taught her how to round numbers to the nearest ten, hundreds and thousands but using numbers with 2, 3 and 4 digits respectively. Then all of a sudden the worksheets asked her to round 19,450 to the nearest hundred. She of course had trouble even comprehending it.

I sat with her, realizing that we probably needed to go over it again in depth. So I scribbled the number on scratch paper and told her to ignore the extra digits.

"So if you're rounding to the nearest hundred, what do you look at?"

"The tens," she replied, after some hesitance.

"Okay, so let's ignore the 1 and 9 and just focus on the 450. Imagine you're rounding that to the nearest hundred. What would it be?"

"500."

"Okay, so now, you just put 1 and 9 in front of 500 and you got the answer," I explained.

Evidently, my way of explaining was less than perfect as I could see that she couldn't understand what was actually happening, so I resorted to using the thousand cube, hundred flat and ones as models. She seemed to gain more understanding after that, but it was like only a small hole was letting in the light. I needed to give her more examples.

So I gave her a number and asked her what numbers that number is between, in terms of hundreds. Silence. Used the models again and asked her. She mumbled the answer. She got it. Lesson over.

Then the father came and peeked over her shoulder.

"Did Ummi tell you that the answer for that is D?"

"I was in front of the computer, and wearily turned to the question at hand, sighing inwardly for the nenver ending issue of 'the nearest hundred'. Considering F's better math skill, I immediately assumed I had made a mistake.

I looked at the question he was referring to, and believe it or not, it was the very same one S and I had gone over.

"The nearest HUNDRED," I said, pointing to the question and then the correct answer.

I could have sworn I felt a slightly gloating sensation at F's silence in realizing his blunder, for he never makes those when it comes to Math. I do. But not this time. Yeah!! I rule!! even if only for a moment.

Hmmm, Malaysian parents, Malaysian educated, trying to teach their kids American education. It's a drive constantly veering off a cliff at the very last minute. To speak the language itself is a sometimes a bother, but to explain making sure to include the terms and all is just, well, an interesting experience.

Then, it was N and H's turn at history. I proceeded to teach them about archaeology. Monday, we had learned about historians. The plan was simple enough.

History: stories of the past.

How do we know?

From two kinds of people:

Historians : study letters and pictures.

Archaeologists: dig up sites and study what found.

However, the concept and meaning went lost somewhere between my explanation and the words. Growing increasingly frustrated and spent, I stopped talking, and told them we were done for the day.

Stupid lesson objectives. Expecting them to know what archaeologists do. I inwardly cursed the lesson and decided that the only way I can attain that objective is to do it the traditional homeschooling way.

At the library, I picked up books about archaeologists and weather, since they have been having trouble picking up what I was teaching them in science. When I got home, they clamored over me as soon as I opened the van door.

Just last night, I was thinking about how I would miss them were I to go on to graduate school. I had stayed up bleary eyed till 1 am, researching graduate programs. I tiptoed into their room after they were asleep and thought wistfully about leaving them home and going to school full time. After eight years staying home with them, I don't think I can bring myself to leave them.

Seeing them running towards me with expectant faces broought a smile to my face and blooming flowers to my heart.

I told them I had gotten books for them and S asked,

"Did you get me any books?"

"Yup. I got some Bobsey Twins. I don't know if you'll like them though."

She had complained that she had no more library books left to read and I had scoured the library shelves looking for mystery books, which at the very moment seem to be her favorite.

I decided to continue the history lesson for N and H.

"You can read it out loud by yourselves, or I can read it to you. What do you want?"

"You!! You!!"

So the choice was me reading out loud to them. We all made ourselves comfortable on my bed and I began reading. Even S came to listen. H lost his capacity for paying attention several times, at which I varied my inflection and intonation, which got him right back up again.

By the time we reached the end of the book, I could tell that their brains had received some stimulation. I can conclude that they had attained the objectives of the lesson.

I had H do his first unit assessment, at which he scored 100%. N, for her history report, drew a picture very like the one in the book and told me to write the caption for her. I told her she could do it herself but she said,

"But my hands are too sweaty!"

I made a note in my head to ask the doctor again regarding her sweaty palms.

When F came home, H said,

"Abi, we learned about archaeologist!"

There we go again. So now I know what to do in cases of failure in reaching the lesson objectives. To the library we all go!