Expo Redemption

Jacob and I aced another group project at his school this past week. This time it was a science fair in English. 

We went into this group project with less apprehension, mainly because we knew what to expect and because we both speak English. This time I was even invited to participate in the planning.

Jacob and I discussed ideas a few times in the days leading up to my meeting with the mothers, so I felt a bit prepared to at least represent his views on the assigned topic. The group was to prepare a project about animal coverings, and Jacob thought that they should have some sort of boxes with animal coverings in them that you could touch. I thought it was brilliant.

I was 40 minutes late to the meeting with the other mothers due to a scheduling conflict, and the tasks and topics had already been divided. I pitched Jacob’s idea anyway, giving him full credit, and as a reward, I was designated the box maker. One mom would make a matching game, one would buy prizes, I would make the boxes, and one mom simply wouldn’t show up or participate. Why couldn’t I have been that mom?

I tried to have a better attitude about this project going into it, and overall I did.  I accepted the fact that I was expected to do Jacob’s project for him and that he was only responsible for knowing what it was about.  Instead of fighting the whole idea, I made peace with it and tried to think of it as a way to help my kid learn some science. It helped. That it wasn’t interfering with any major holiday was also in its favor.

I did insist that the kids at least help put the board together, but that all went to pot when I got lost on the way to a second meeting with the mothers. I think poor Jacob feared for his life in the back seat; I acted pretty crazy. Tijuana roads will do that to you. They twist and turn and end abruptly until you have no idea where you are or what direction you’re headed in. I gave up, and to this day, I still have no idea where that woman lives. That’s also when I accepted the fact that I would even have to glue Jacob’s part to the dang board myself.

As Jacob watched, I manipulated cardboard and hot glued my way through five sensory boxes-- hair, skin, scales, feathers and shells.  I was pretty proud of myself when I was done, and Jacob pronounced them “awesome.”  I thought for sure that we had gotten it right this time, that is, until I saw all the other projects.   Either I’m the least creative mother in Tijuana, or the papelerias here are fantastic.  I certainly didn’t notice any other mothers with hot glue gun burns.

I told my mom that I had completely compromised my morals to do Jacob’s homework for him.

“It’s a slippery slope,” she chided gently.

“You’re right, Mom,” I said snarkily.   “One day I’m doing his homework, and the next I’m helping him shoot up heroin.”

We both laughed. 

I think we’ll just try to keep this in perspective. When in Mexico...