by Patti
For the past two months, S has had to learn everything about Maryland. She had never even given that tiny state a second thought, but thanks to a year-end school project that would be a huge part of her final grade (If I fail, I won't go to middle school, MOM!), she and Maryland had no choice but to become best friends forever. It hasn't been easy. FOR ME. Because all I've heard for the past two months is "I HATE MARYLAND." But thanks to this never-ending school project, we now know that Frank Zappa was born in Maryland; that Billie Holiday grew up in Maryland; that there is an historical, crumbling zoo in Maryland; that blue crab abounds in Maryland; that the Black-Eyed Susan is Maryland's flower; that Maryland's manufacturing revolves around soda and soap; that Maryland's flag is red and yellow and black and really, really hard to draw..... Oh, yes! The things we have learned, all in the name of getting an A!
Even though "parental participation" was "highly encouraged", for the most part, S has been pretty independent on this project. Aside from the constant whines of "I HATE MARYLAND", she has handled it quite well. She is a wiz on the computer, and a Dr. Google just like me, so she hasn't needed much assistance.
Until... the landmark. The last assignment of this project has lived in our house for the past week, swallowing up our entire dining room, all of our evenings, and even appearing in our dreams. For the final leg of this "Celebrate America!" journey, S had to choose a landmark from her assigned state - Maryland - and recreate it. We scoured the Internet for something landmark-y, but nothing jumped out as particularly interesting. S began to panic. "I'm going to FAIL!" She remembered a website her teacher had suggested that detailed the many landmarks across the United States, and jumped around excitedly when she saw the furniture store with the 16-foot rocking chair on its roof. Yes, I said furniture store. Since when is a furniture store a landmark?
"Are you sure you can use this as a landmark?"
"Yes! My teacher even recommeded this website!"
"But... it's a furniture store."
"SO? It's on the website!"
And furniture store it was.
In a few short hours, M built that rocking chair. One that actually rocks (both literally and figuratively). The hardest part out of the way, S and I got to work on the actual building - the part I had delusionally assumed I'd be able to handle with ease and flair. We had gone to the Dollar Store and Michael's, and were armed with a zillion popsicle sticks, cardboard gift boxes, poster board, and pipe cleaners. The pipe cleaners were a total "just in case"; it just seems a school project is not a school project until there are pipe cleaners involved. So, as M's expertly crafted rocking chair sat there in the corner, drying, and S stood over me, I stared at the popsicle sticks and cardboard and poster board and pipe cleaners. "What can I do?" she asked. I fumbled with the cardboard, attempting to fashion it into some semblance of a building. The laptop sat open in front of me, a picture of the real building mocking me. "Mom? Maybe we need those building bricks we saw at Michael's?"
"No - we don't need those things. They're waaaay too expensive. What we have will work great!"
"But... how are we going to build the parts that stick out?"
"Like this!" I quickly folded up a piece of posterboard, attempting to create some sort of 3-D structure. I placed it over the flat area of the cardboard, silently worried by how uneven and amateurish it appeared.
"That doesn't look good."
"Shhh! It'll be fine once it's done and painted!"
We fumbled with the popsicle sticks and cardboard and poster board and pipe cleaners for three days. All the while, M hovered over me, micromanaging my incomptence, as I stubbornly continued to try to - in the words of Tim Gunn - "make it work". But it wasn't working. At all. And that is when M elbowed his way into the project, taking over. He grabbed the piece of foam board I had bought to use as the base, and swiftly folded it, instantly creating the building's facade and base.
"OH MY GOD!" S screamed. "IT LOOKS SO REAL NOW!"
I hung my head in defeat. "What do we need from the store?"
M rattled off a list of items, and I drove to Michael's at 7:30 pm on a Monday night to buy my "start all a-freaking-over" supplies. While there, I saw a few other harried parents buying foam board and popsicle sticks, and wondered if they, too, were starting all over.
When I got home, S excitedly greeted me at the door. "Look what Papi did!" There was M at the dining room table, holding the magically crafted front of the building, windows already cut out, the swinging doors covered in wood, complete with tiny little handmade handles.
I took the building bricks out of the Michael's bag and S whooped with glee. "This is going to be the best landmark EVER!"
The project, now coming together beautifully, is still underway, and Supervisor M has delegated the remaining tasks to us. But not before he managed to MAKE TINY FURNITURE for the inside of the furniture store.
I hate Maryland.
