Little Johnny can’t do long division…and it’s all my fault!!

Moist palms…acoustic heart beat…anime forhead sweat in full effect!

What time is it you ask? It’s time for me to rise to the occasion.  It’s time for Ray Charles (R.I.P) to lead Stevie Wonder.  It’s time to act like the Mr. Jessup’s 7th grade math class chalkboard debaucle never happened.

It’s time for me to help my kids with their math homework.

I wonder if their teachers understand how traumatic this is for parents like me.  When new concepts are introduced I can’t be trusted to give that annoyingly short explanation at the top of the worksheet a once over and be ready to helm their boat of understanding.  No, I have to go and Google math tutorial videos that invariably feature a narrator that sounds like Bob Ross.  Only he’s ‘painting’ mathmatic masterpieces with a happy little exponent right over here…  Meanwhile my child is witnessing my look of sheer panic and patiently waiting for me to finish ‘re-acquainting’ myself with whatever the concept is.  My eldest usually figures it out before I arrive at my Eureka! moment and tries (but fails) to conceal her look of ‘Really Mom? Really’? 

My other child, Sensitive Smurf, can’t forge ahead without me.  He really needs me to shake off the nightmare of Dr. Najee-Ullah’s College Algebra triplicate F—thats right folks, I failed College Algebra 3 times—and help him borrow, carry, solve for x, and find out how fast the 8:00 train from Bismark is going while scientifically notating.

At every math homework session I have to ward off visions of my child working at Checker’s or trash collecting (not that there’s anything wrong with that), because I passed the Mathmatically challenged gene on to him.  I really do try my darndest to approach math with an open mind and a can-do spirit, but my history clouds my disposition.  When all else fails and I’ve tried Binary Bob Ross, phoning a friend and whispering a prayer, I resort to the best kept internet secret, www.WolframAlpha.com.

Heaven forbid the teacher issues this panic inducing edict: Show your work.

It's all Mandarin to me.

Focusing on Day 13 of the 30 day blogging challenge

 Your favorite musician and why?

do people really have a favorite musician? i mean like really? i for one can’t qualify any one artist as my absolute favorite.  but i guess there are a top 3 or so.  before my great gettin’ up mornin’ i HAFTA see stevie wonder in concert. so he’s way up there for me.

hmm. who else? i’ll cheat and re-visit my answers from one of those surveys that were all the rage for a while.  this one was called ‘Your own People’s Choice Awards’.  you rememba that one? you memba? you memba?

anyway i think i’ve alluded to my allegiance to that Baduizm in other posts so erykah’s a given.  it’s kinda hard to explain.  does erykah sometimes concern me with her over liberal, hedonism in a headwrap way of life? yeah. but i guess she speaks to that part of me that is  kooky and flower childy. ‘Baduism’ got me through my 1st complicated ‘love” and  broken heart and for that i’ll always be grateful.  and it should be noted that erykah’s is a controlled chaos. i mean she does bizarre well.  her shows never disappoint.  they are entertaining and engaging from beginning to end in a way that you wanna see her EVERY time she comes to your town. can’t say the same for jill scott or india.irie (this brilliant guy i know dubbed the latter paint.drying. HILARIOUS!).

and rounding out my top 3 is the  incomparable, the soulful, the ever-polarizing (according to one group [the right group] she can sang but ask those others and she needs to be that poor soul in the choir with their mic [unbeknownst to them] turned off) MARY J. BLIGE!!!

i dunno. Mary’s music is just my kinda music.  her pain is always palpable and her joy seems like real joy–still subject to come back down to earth but jammin’ and happy in the moment. mary gives a song texture.  i don’t really buy music anymore.  i’ve got too much else to do to keep up with the musical jones. but when i was in the market. i was buying whatever these folks were selling.