I recently came across a website with a bunch of card games that are all about math, and yesterday, I pulled one of those games out to “play math” with my son. I thought it would be fun to teach him a math trick, so we tried this one. (Don’t tell my husband about this, because we want to “trick” him later!) I had him pull a card, guided him through the first several steps, and then correctly guess his card, the Queen of clubs. He was entranced and wanted to try to trick me. So we reversed our roles, I put the instructions in front of him, and then…
- Hilarity ensued because I kept messing up the simple operations. Not on purpose. He kept having to correct my math. LOL.
- He promptly constructed a formula to describe how the math operations worked. He’s a global thinker like that.
- He scolded me for not reading the final step to him when he had been the “trickee” and I had been the “tricker,” and had trouble following the directions for the last step of “tricking” me because I hadn’t initially modeled how that step works. Naturally, since I wanted to “trick” him, I had done the last step in my head. Why I might want to withhold this information didn’t make sense to him. But now it was his turn, and as is often true for him, doing a thing once establishes the pattern for how it should always be done, and adding steps is hard.
We tried a couple more times and switched roles back and forth. He was delighted when I “guessed” his card but he couldn’t quite get the hang of “tricking” me and got so frustrated that he headed upstairs for a break. But as he left the room, he said: “it’s interesting that you struggle with the math steps along the way, and I struggle with the solution at the end.” Isn’t this great? He was able to quickly process what had happened and summarize it very succinctly. He noticed that he’s not the only person in the room who is in need of skill building, which is a natural segue into honoring each other’s strengths and helping to complement the strengths of those around us and build an interwoven community of respect. And then he spent some time by himself with his legos, with no pressure to re-engage until he was ready. (And I got time to read. YAY!)
While he was upstairs, I was struck with the realization that if he had been at school, it would have been extremely difficult for him to recover after getting to this point of overwhelm. He needs only time, space, and favorite things–not hard to provide–but the pace and overwhelming sensory input of a school environment meant that he constantly had to try to self-regulate in a very challenging environment (and when he couldn’t, he felt broken). I gain new insights into why homeschooling is such a good choice for him right now with each passing day. After he felt better, he begged to work on Spanish (!), spent some time thinking about physics with one of his favorite game apps, and gave me a run for my money in a Scrabble game. He gravitated to and used the tools he needed for self-regulation, a complicated process for any 9-year-old, but one that is easier when the kiddo has space to be himself.
We’ll keep trying the “trick” when he’s up for it, mostly because it’s a cool way to play with math (and I sure need the practice). And the added “treat” (too obvious for a Halloween blog post?) is that we get to practice expectations in social interactions in what I hope is a non-trhreatening way, and we both get as much time as we need afterwards to process what we just learned.