(Photo is of my state of mind, not Lily's science project.)
The phone rings, and I'm almost afraid to answer it. The caller ID says it's the mother of one of Lily's friends, and although she is an interesting and nice woman, she seems to have more time on her hands than I do. Or you do. Or anyone else does.
She seems to have more time on her hands than my mother does. My mother has Alzheimer's and is bedridden. Yes, some of us are busy. And others of us are looking for something to do.
This woman is a bit too involved in her daughter's life. She's calling to find out "how we're coming on our science project?"
"I don't have a science project, and Lily is watching TV," I say. I feel like a negligent mother. I'm not sure I remember what the science project is about. Then I remember. I've already finished eighth grade. I don't have a science project, other than what's growing in the refrigerator.
"Are you splitting the (FORGOT WHAT SHE SAID) into different pages or doing it together?" she asks. I have no idea what she's talking about, but I have the urge to be helpful.
"I haven't even looked at it, but I think I'd put things on separate pages. Make the whole thing look longer," I say.
"You aren't working on it? My daughter has been working all day (Saturday) and will be working on it all day tomorrow," she exclaims.
The drama comes from the fact that the science teacher forgot to tell them all until the last minute that they need to include a major part of the project that hasn't been mentioned before -- a booklet -- when they turn the project in on Monday.
Though this shouldn't have happened, I figure it's Lily's problem. Lily seems unconcerned. So when I (finally) get off the phone with her friend's mother, I feel the need to check to be sure that there isn't some adolescent slip-up slipping up right under my nose.
"Your friend and her whole family are scrambling to get her science project finished by Monday. Why are you watching TV?" I quiz Lily.
"Because I like this show, and it's Saturday," she says.
"What about your science project? Why aren't you foaming at the mouth?" I say. "Have you looked at everything you're supposed to turn in?"
"Could you move out of the way of the TV?" Lily says.
"Not until you tell me about your science project." I'm not going to be the negligent mother I feel like I am.
So Lily gets her scrawled notes. "It's supposed to have a title page, a contents page, a summary, research method..., Mom, why am I reading you this?"
"I'm just making sure there's no Sunday night surprise when you go to put it together," I say.
"There's nothing to this," she says. "All I have to do is reformat what I've already done."
"Then why is your friend's family working all weekend?" I ask.
"Because they're not us," she says. Then, "Thank you, Mom, for not getting so involved in my stuff."
"You're welcome. As long as you're getting good grades and acting normal, I won't."
What she doesn't realize is that at this point, I probably couldn't pass eighth grade, so that's why I'm leaving it to her.
I love the way the teacher's lack of planning translates into a crisis. One would think he'd own up and give them til Tuesday or something.
Posted by: Steve B | January 28, 2009 at 05:34 AM
Lily's friend needs what embee calls a
"mom-ectomy"!
Posted by: lori | January 28, 2009 at 02:01 PM
God bless you and thank you for your candid comments about Alzheimers, my Dad is in stage 7 and has been non-responsive for a while now.
Posted by: Jean | January 28, 2009 at 06:44 PM
Kudos to you for refusing to be one of those "helicopter parents" like Lily's friend's mother. Instead of letting that woman make you feel neglectful, realize that you've raised a daughter who is experienced in dealing with things on her own, which is why she's unfazed by the teacher's oversight.
Great prep for the real world, isn't it? And preparing a kid for that is the antithesis of negligent parenting.
Take a bow!
Posted by: Venomous Kate | January 30, 2009 at 01:31 PM