Science Fair

For the first time, we have not one, but two entries in the school's science fair. For La Nina, this was required. All third graders at our school must complete a science fair project. For the Magster, it was optional, but since she must keep up with her sister, I suppose it was a requirement for her too. Both girls worked on the project with partners. Both girls did a great job on their projects. And both teams of girls required a lot of help to make this happen.

First, they had to pick a topic. La Nina greeted every conversation about a topic with a shoulder shrug. We looked online for ideas, we visited a science family night at the school, nothing appealed to her. Then one day, I asked a woman at work for ideas and she had a winner: How does the sugar content of gum affect bubble size? La Nina signed on immediately for the project involving gum chewing. For the Magster, the topic was easy. She and her partner decided seals were cute, harp seals were the cutest and therefore, their project would be about the life cycle of harp seals.

The Magster and her partner set a schedule for their work sessions. They researched one session, they wrote and translated in the next session and in the final session they assembled their board. La Nina and her partner had a plan too: chew gum and blow bubbles. That was it. Thankfully, the other mother focused them and helped them figured out a measurement method. They had a writing session and an assembly session too. And once they got started they were fine. Both teams spent about 8 hours of work on their projects. (This does include breaks for play, though the seal girls required less focusing than the gum girls, but the seal girls had less sugar than the gum girls.)

Here's my thing: There is no way kids can do these sort of projects without serious parental intervention. Trust me, the Magster and her partner far exceeded my expectations of what a couple of second graders to pull off on their own. They did almost all of their own research. The only thing I helped with was avoiding images of the harp seal slaughter- though they did learn all about it. They did all their own writing and most of their translations even the native spanish speaking dad didn't know how to say a few scientific words in Spanish. But how can third graders, ask a question, identify a method, create a hypothesis, record results and draw conclusions without an adult saying "you know, I'm not sure you can conclude more sugar is always better from those results." Yet, the third graders translated every word of their work into Spanish, so they should be proud too. But in the end, who's project was it?

Well, let's just say this: In two minutes of chewing, sugarless gum yields larger bubbles than regular gum and the population of harp seals has rebounded dramatically in the last decade due to governmental restriction on hunting. I swear, those weren't my science projects. But me and the other moms were sure happy when they wrapped up their work.

The School Lunch Menu

As a working mom, the best deal in town is the school lunch. For $3 a day, I can feed the kids a hot lunch that I don't have to pack. The kids generally like it, but lately, La Nina has been bustling about the kitchen in the morning making her own lunch. (See what happens when kids figure out their mother isn't going to do something for them? INDEPENDENCE! A good thing.)

Anyhoo, I asked why the sudden interest in "taking" and here's the answer.

"Because on Wednesday's the pizza is only yarn and cardboard," she answered.

I tried to reason: They aren't serving kids yarn and cardboard, but she insisted...yarn and cardboard was on the menu.

The reality of this answer is amusing. Wednesday's is Revolution Food day, the day each week, that the school brings in organic, whole grain, healthy fare to nourish the bodies of their young charges. Apparently, all that health food isn't cutting the mustard on taste. According to my young eater, the pizza crust is dry, the cheese doesn't taste quite right and the sauce is bland. So Oprah, you may have featured this menu on your show, but I think you needed to convince some average kids to eat it. My average kid is opting out, taking a peanut butter sandwich, apples and crackers. At least it isn't yarn and card board.

A Story of Contrasts

La Nina and I spent the weekend at a dance convention. That means dancing 16 hours in two days for La Nina and a lot of sitting around and holding shoes for me. This weekend the dancers were sharing the space with another group of kids: the kids competing in the National Chess Finals. And let's just say, dancers and chess players mix like, well, let's just say they don't really mix. Here's why:

Dancers dress in the skimpiest clothes their mothers will allow. Dancers regularly walk around barefoot in a metallic green bikini with spiked hair, full of glitter. Chess players wear solid colored-long sleeve, collared shirts, sensible shoes and thick glasses. While the little boy chess players are rather fascinated by the boisterous dancers, the mothers of chess players are not so impressed and regularly steer their little prodigies as far from the dancers as possible.

Dancers travel in packs of 3-6, if they're over 7 they refuse to be seen much with their mothers and typically can be heard long before they are seen, which is something when you consider on how they're dressed. Chess players travel alone, usually with their mothers and are so quiet that they typically go unnoticed until a dancer leaps or spins into one on the way to the lunch line. Even though the leaping and turning dancer has flattened the poor chess player who was only waiting patiently for his lunch, somehow the dancer is offended and is the only person complaining when in fact the poor, little chess player is the one who was knocked down.

Chess players sit quietly with their mothers during lunch. They put their napkins in their laps, they use silver ware and they never use their chair as a prop to show their friend how to "pliè". The chess players eat about a 1/3 of their lunch and spend the rest of their break resting. Dancers eat like starving wolves. They consume a sandwich, their mother's salad, a cookie, chips and possibly a water or soda in about 5 minutes. Then they jump up and begin spinning, leaping and begging their mothers to go back into the practice room, because they really, really want to work on their turns.

The mothers of chess players look on in horror at the scene being caused by the dancers in the lunch room, because really, it's quite chaotic. Kids are leaping, turning, running in and out in packs and occasionally doing all of the above in perfect unison. The mothers of dancers look longing at the little chess players and wish they could spend some time in a quiet room filled with little boys moving pawns, rooks, queens and kings around a checkered board. Then the mothers of dancers realize the mothers of the chess players look just as tired as they do, and they pick up their lunch dishes and go back to the practice room.