Picket Fence Post

It’s about this science project.

For my third graders.

A couple of weeks ago, the kids came home with an instructional packet which told parents and students that the children were expected to concoct a science experiment of their own design. The students were asked to research the subject they were testing, develop a hypothesis, conduct the experiment and then create a three-fold poster board display to bring to school. The packet included a list of links to educational web sites which purported to explain the scientific method — something about which my children claimed they didn’t learn in school . . . could that possibly be true, or were they not paying attention when the scientific method and experiments were explained?

Despite my hard-and-fast rule that the children will do their own experiments and displays because neither I nor The Spouse are third graders (the third grade teachers do not need to assess work done by thirty- and fortysomethings), this project proved to be a major headache in our over-scheduled household.

Since the assignment came home, I have found myself in the unenviable role of being the Evil Task Master, only I didn’t get a fun whip to literally crack around the house with crisp authority. It seems as though I’ve been spending an inordinate amount of time in the past few weeks reminding, cajoling and hounding my twin 9-year-olds to work on this project. I was in Science Project Hell, and the hellishness was only amplified when the Eldest Boy refused to focus on his experiment, becoming easily distracted by his younger sibling who was running around the house in his Paul Pierce jersey cheering for the Boston Celtics in playoff games, rooting for the Red Sox or just wildly swinging one of his Star Wars light sabers in close proximity of the experiments in order to get attention.

“Let me see the notes you took,” I said after prodding the kids to look through several age-appropriate encyclopedias. Upon finding that they didn’t totally understand what they were reading, I sat down with each of them to explain the material and suggested (if necessary) alternative sources of information.

“You need to plan out your experiment and make a list of supplies,” I said, gently guiding them through what they’d need, coming up with a reasonable list of supplies and then trudging off to Target to buy everything, with the exception of a special thermometer the Eldest Boy needed for his experiment for which The Spouse and I had to go to several stores to find.

“How do you want your display board to look?” I asked, urging them to sketch out what they were going to write/draw/display on the poster board BEFORE marking it up with a Sharpie and then having to correct it with seven gallons of White-Out.

Then we conducted the experiments. (I say “we” because the experiments had to be supervised or else there’d be chaos.) The Girl wanted to see which liquid would more effectively clean a mud-covered sock: Sprite, apple juice, vinegar, water, detergent or bleach. The Eldest Boy wanted to see which substance would better insulate a cup of cold water, then warm water: Cardboard, foam, bubble wrap, cloth or sand.

The only thing that got The Spouse and I through what felt like a major, work-related project on which a multi-million-dollar deal hinged, was to remind ourselves: This is a third grade project for 8- and 9-year-olds.

I can only hope that when my kids bring their science projects to school, that they’ll be surrounded by projects actually completed by fellow 8- and 9-year-olds, not 40-year-olds who finished third grade a long time ago. No matter how much time The Spouse and I spent helping out (The Spouse did create a chart of the Eldest Boy’s results, against my wishes) the projects are distinctly their own.

Now that Science Project Hell is over, we can prepare for . . . Biography Day Hell. The Girl is supposed to go to school dressed as Harriet Tubman and the Eldest Boy is supposed to dress up as one of the Wright brothers. Yeah, that’ll be fun.