I’ve said it before. I’ll say it again. I thought I was prepared for this. Really. Parenting was not supposed to be too terribly hard. After all, billions of people do it, many without ANY formal education whatsoever, most of them without so much as banging their heads against the wall more than, say, nine or ten times. A week. Oh, wait—that statistic is only for my household. But I digress.

The truth is, I have an advanced degree. I have TWO even. To review my resume, one would draw the conclusion that I would be more than competent to raise two small, albeit intense, children. Let’s review:

Master’s Degree in Counseling: check
Master’s Degree in Marriage and Family Therapy: check
Over 50 credit hours in Childhood Development: check
TAUGHT Childhood Development: check
Specialized training in Sexual Abuse Prevention: check
TAUGHT Sexual Abuse Prevention: check
Parenting classes: check
TAUGHT parenting classes: check
Lamaze, Breastfeeding, Infant Care: check
BioChemistry: um…
Nuclear Physics: well…
Biology: oh crap.
Physiology: you’ve got to be kidding!

It was about two weeks ago when these gaps in my curriculum vitae started to become apparent. The conversation went something like this:

My Son: Mom, what are trees made out of?
Me: Trees are made out of wood.
Son: Mom, what is wood made out of?
Me: (Tentatively.) Um, it’s made out of, um, well, wood.
Son: Mom, what is wood made out of?
Me: (Trying again.) Wood is made out of water and seeds.
Son: Mom, what is water made out of?
Me: (With newfound confidence.) Oxygen and Hydrogen!
Son: Mom, what is oxygen made out of?
Me: (Pause.) Itself?
Son: Mom, what is oxygen made out of?
Me: (Tersely.) Atoms.
Son: Mom, what are atoms made out of?
Me: (LONG pause.)
Poppa: (After laughing at me for long enough.) Protons, Neutrons, and Electrons.
Son: Dad, what are pow-tons, new-tons, and lect-tons made out of?
Poppa: (Smugly, in a scientific tone.) Quarks.

Quarks? What the heck? But somehow, it all comes back to Quarks, and I don’t mean the Ferengi Bartender in replicate. To date, I’ve been asked to break down cars, trees, people, rocks, dirt, and airplanes, to name but a few.

Now, I’ll be frank. I’m not qualified to teach science, not even to a three-year-old. Normally a straight-A student, I squeaked by with a D in Freshman Biology, a C in Sophomore Chemistry, and, having fulfilled my science requirements, was mercifully allowed to skip out of Physics and Physiology. Aside from taking Astronomy in college (truly a What was I thinking? moment) to meet yet another stupid requirement, I have no further experience in the sciences to round out my parenting qualifications.

I’m screwed. Worse yet, so is my son.

Anyone know of a good science program? Or, better yet, have a Science For Dummies book I can borrow?

family life humor motherhood raising boys