Hope and Super-Geniuses

My kids are geniuses.

I know every mother (at least secretly) thinks that their kids are super smart, the brightest and best-looking of all their peers. So you probably don't do more than smile at my proud-mommisms as you whiz past them to more reading about old people in university.

But I mean it. Einstein-caliber geniuses.

My youngest, at the ripe old age of 8, figured out the calculus concept of the integral, without even knowing what the Cartesian coordinate system was. The other night during tuck-in, he began explaining to me physical concepts like reflection and refraction. He played his first games of pool over the holidays, and could see where each ball needed to be hit and at which angle and spin in order to sink it while setting the cue ball up for the next shot. You could practically see the trigonometric concepts and geometric patterns flashing in his brain. No, he hasn't studied either of these to any extent.

My oldest devours history documentaries as if they were cartoons; he recorded an entire series on World War II so he could watch it in his spare time. He understands and can converse about the theory of relativity, quantum physics, and nuclear fission. He gets engineering basics and is already working on a brainchild for a long-distance water-spanning bridge. Needless to say, he's an incredibly creative thinker. He attempted to read Dune last year -- arguably an epic work involving many disciplines including ecology, meteorology, sociology, and philosophy. He took the SAT this year -- in the 7th grade -- and did better than 75% of high school seniors. His dad has downloaded chemistry and physics lectures from MIT for him to watch online, and he actually stayed awake through them and absorbed much of the material (better than what I can say sometimes...)

Maybe I do struggle with a mother's bias, but that's damn impressive.

You'd think that we wouldn't have to worry about their schoolwork, that fabulous grades would be a natural outgrowth of such intellectually-curious kids. And you'd be so wrong if you did.

We just had a conference with the 7th-grader and his teachers. By the third teacher I recognized a recurring theme, which landed me straight in the land of deja vu (or the Matrix resetting itself.) They all said something to the point of what a brilliant and respectful young man he is, but he just doesn't seem to care about completing and turning in assignments. The black cat reappeared today, because this has been a recurring theme for him throughout his education thus far (and little brother, too -- but this post isn't about super-genius #2.)

What I don't get is how he can watch me pour over my studies for four or more years now and not give his best to his homework? How can he not understand that he better apply himself now -- the first time around BEFORE he has a family of his own -- by watching his dad have to miss family dinner at least two nights a week because he's attending classes? Aren't we modelling some very important life lessons here? Those being namely: (1) You have to work hard to achieve your academic goals, and (2) There's no escaping (1), only postponing it (which is harder on everybody.)

He has known for several years that he wants to be a civil engineer when he's grown. That kind of clarity eluded me most of my life. (When I was in high school, I fell in love with music, particularly the trumpet. I wanted to perform. All of my educational and extracurricular pursuits were pointed toward an orchestral career. My father, well-meaning in his pessimism, convinced me to pursue instrumental education instead, because teachers have more financial stability than performers. The practicality of those-that-can't-do-teach drained joy's breath from my balloon, so that when my small college's instrumental music department collapsed, I didn't find another one.) And so I find myself here, finally on the clear path to what I want to be when I'm grown up, although I "grew up" almost 20 years ago. (Talk about a detour!) Many of my generation are late bloomers, but we are also innovative thinkers who prefer to do things on our own schedule and terms, whether or not that means inevitably achieving success the hard way. But that's a heavy burden to bear.

I assumed that #1 son had been spared the stubbornness of Generation X when he announced his bridge-building intentions. I was elated when he was open to his dad showing him college degree plans to get him there (even though he was only in the 5th grade.) Then there was talk of attending MIT or Stanford, or even West Point, and I was ecstatic that the curse of the hard-earned career without a college degree had been removed from his future.

And then there was a class failed last six weeks. Ouch. Not because he can't do the work, not because he doesn't understand the subject. Because he didn't do the work that he could've easily tutored other kids on.

I recently asked an old friend from high school, who is now a high school math teacher, "How do you raise the scary-smart?" He referred me to Mensa to give them challenging mental exercises. Maybe I should pursue that, but his suggestion sort of left me flat. I need to challenge him to keep up with the "mundane" work of his pre-AP and GT classes, let alone give him yet another distraction (albeit one of genius proportions.) How do I draw out that incredible intellect and apply it to completing daily tasks? How do I convince him that there's more to success than being naturally smart? That it's those that are willing to work at it that actually make it in life? That the ones that get where he wants to go are the ones that stand out in a crowd of bright kids because they were also disciplined? That so many super-geniuses are bereft of direction because they were too cerebral to apply themselves in practical ways?

I'm hoping the answer came today, when he heard all of his teachers and his counselor echoing the same things he's heard us say way too many times to be heard anymore. I'm hoping...

Flexibility (subtitle: She's baaaaaaack!!)

Wow, the silent echoes off the pages of my blog have been deafening. They crash and split and whirr, because it's as if this poor little blog is an empty can!

So, what has she been doing, you ask? I'm (sort of) glad you ask. It gives me a chance to call out...

"Help! I've been sucked into the FaceBook vortex, and I can't find my way out!"

I have a friend who turned me onto FB, mainly to share family photos and keep up. I figured it wouldn't go much past that. Then my mother and aunt got on FB, then the premed group found and friended me. Next thing I know, I have about 100 friends that I went to high school with (and haven't seen since then), 20 more online buddies from my bodybuilding days, a gazillion relatives that I'm so thankful to have a means of communication with, and friend requests from people I've never ever met before.

I have a dear friend who is a writer -- very good and very aspiring (check out her blog here) -- who summed it up perfectly the other day.

"FaceBook is evil," she said in response to me complaining about how easy it is to get distracted by it. "I haven't written since I joined." She, too, has a family -- only hers is complete with a wonderfully energetic toddler -- and even more limited time on the computer than me (at least I can pretend I'm studying when my nose is in my laptop, and everyone leaves me alone.) FaceBook has sucked that little bit of time bone dry.

Well, fortunately I can say that FaceBook isn't the only thing that has kept me from this beautifully cathartic blog-venture. (How embarrassing would that be?!) So what else have I been doing?

Besides school, that is...

P90X. I recognized from my personal training experiences that it was a good program, so I coughed up my birthday money (yes, at 38, I still get birthday money -- well, from my mother-in-law at least) and ordered the systerm. One word: WOW! And another: time-consuming (it counts -- the hyphen makes it one!)

Not that I'm complaining. It's structured enough that I will do it. I've let myself slip enough. It'd be a complete waste to get unhealthy whilst struggling towards medical school, only to get there and have a heart attack! So I'm on my second round, and am loving the results. Plus, I'm training for a 10K run in April. Loving the feeling of being so active again!

One of the weekly workouts is a 90-minute yoga class on dvd, and another is an hour of stretching. The flexibility element of the plan is what really sold me on it. I can lift heavy and keep my heartrate in the 170's for extended time intervals; I did that a LOT in order to get stage-ready. But I never worked on flexibility enough, and suffered the consequences. Within three weeks of my start date I noticed that shoulder pain that had been bothering me for a couple of years was just -- gone! My hips don't hurt near as bad as they used to (yes, I know I'm too young for that kind of chronic pain) and my back is much better, too.

But the thing I'm noticing is the most flexible is my schedule. What?? Well, sort of. I've discovered that, yes, I can work out while everyone else is awake and at home. I've discovered that my sons love to work out with me. I've even convinced my husband that this is actually fun and he's doing it as he gets time. (You think I'm busy?!)

Even my class schedule can be flexible. This year is the first year my spring break has not coincided with my childrens' break; they landed on two consecutive weeks. My research super told me this was due to the university's review for reaccreditation. While I still don't quite understand exactly what affect that process has on my spring break, I have no reason to not take her word for it.

At any rate, I approached all my professors and research supervisor with this solution: I do work in advance (during TSU's spring break) and take my actual break the following week. Risky. Simple. Daring. Stupid.

Yes, yes, yes, and yes. And it worked.

Mature Student's Lesson Learned? Our professors want us in their classes for what we add and what we take away (we attend more closely and work harder than traditional students, or so I've been told). And they will work with us around other commitments to ensure we are able to excel in their classes.

Classes/professors are more flexible than I ever thought! Heck, I'm more flexible, in that I actually acted on a wild thought, applying a fix that I never would have accepted before.

Wes and I take getaways as much as possible. Valentine's weekend. Anniversary weekend. Birthday weekend (his, mine, the Queen's.) The second weekend in November, just because. It keeps us refreshed. Without them we would implode under the load. No matter how stressful work got, I am convinced it was *nothing* compared to juggling classes, homework and family. One of my professors said the other day that once we start working we'll wish we were back in school. I've had a fulltime career, buddy, and believe me -- it was nothing compared to this! (not complaining here -- I adore school; I'm just simply stating the facts as I see them.) Wes is in school parttime, in addition to his more-than-fulltime job. Neither of us would make it without the quick weekend getaways. They help us stay flexible when the pressure would otherwise cause us to seize up.

At any rate, we get a getaway next week -- and it'll be a doozy! -- because my profs were flexible, and because I was flexible enough to take a chance and ask.

Palm trees are specifically adapted to the weather extremes of their ecosystems. They are tall and long and stretchy so that they can bend and bow beneath the wind of a tropical storm. Put a mighty oak tree on a tropical island and it'll be uprooted and destroyed by the wind. Strength is necessary, and one must be able to withstand much. But I propose that flexibility is all-the-more important when it comes to surviving extreme times. And I would be willing to bet that any mature student reading these words (and I'm flattered that you do, by the way) would agree that the juggling act of classes, homework, and family and other commitments would constitute extreme times.

So everybody, breathe and stretch with me...