Tag: math

  • Short Story Review: “13.1 Septillion Pounds” by Emily Rinkema

    Short Story Review: “13.1 Septillion Pounds” by Emily Rinkema

    (The short story “13.1 Septillion Pounds” by Emily Rinkema appeared on September 19th, 2025 at Okay Donkey.)

    Image from Okay Donkey

    I like being a dad. Fatherhood has been more rewarding than I imagined. And I will also say that parenting is harder than I thought possible because unforeseen changes seem to happen every three months. Just when I think I got it down, life with the kid takes a right turn. Though me and the wife had plans and best intentions, we learned that we weren’t in control. Reading Emily Rinkema’s cute and humorous “13.1 Septillion Pounds,” I was reminded of all of those emotions, especially when our kid was still a squirmy baby.

    The premise of the story is that two parents go to wake their baby only to find that the child has written math formulas and equations on the walls the night before. The math is accurate, as two mathematicians arrive and verify. I feared this setup was going to lead to a one-note joke; kid does something crazy therefore the parents have a crazy reaction.

    I needn’t have worried.

    What the story is playing on is the unintended consequences of the parents’ well intended actions. Perhaps the Grandma was correct and the child is just gifted, and this situation would have come about inevitably. Or, maybe it was the mobile displaying the galaxy that influenced the baby? Clearly the basketball that the father left in the crib helped the child formulate the weight of Earth. Though I’m not sure I know a parent that would leave a Sharpie in their child’s crib, but hey, I can let that one go. The truth, and the humor for that matter, of this story lies in an honest fear and hope that parents have; they hope their children will do better than them, but fear that in succeeding the child will become someone they won’t understand.

    The conclusion that the parents reach is correct, and one which makes the world right again. It is wholesome, right and honest, all the things that I hope parenting is. Most of the time, I have no idea what I am doing as a father. It’s a scary tough job. But being able to help my kid become who they are is a deep and profound privilege. It’s just a really bumpy ride that loves to make a bunch of turns.

  • Reality of Homework

    So, the kid has started middle school, and new things have been thrown at her from her school, and on the whole, she has handled all of these changes admirably.

    With the exception of homework.

    Now, I am NOT here to say that her school has given her too much work, or any of that stuff. No, I believe that her school is rolling out homework at a respectable pace.

    It’s just that the kid doesn’t like doing homework, because she’d rather be talking to her friends, or playing online games. You know…

    And this isn’t like the first time that the kid has had homework. Even in her elementary school, she was required to read for thirty minutes a night, and do a page of math problems. If things were very hectic, she might also have a little science homework as well. Tops, all of this work would take her an hour. Most nights, she was done in forty minutes, and with only a minor amount of grumbling. Middle school homework takes about an hour.

    As we have been dealing with this new found disgust of homework, it reminded me of when she first got “homework” back in second grade. It was like five math problems that she could do at home, and she was excited to take care of it first thing after school. I get, because I remember doing the same thing at her age.

    For me, not that I 100% remember what my “homework” was, let’s say math, but it was the fact that I felt like I was older, doing ready studying, really learning. Home work was that thing my older brothers had to do, and it must be a good thing because they were smarter than me, so homework made you smarter. And I wanted to be smarter. What I do remember concretely was the feeling of accomplishment for completing whatever that homework was, and also how my brothers told me I shouldn’t be excited to get homework because it was like a punishment.

    Clearly things changed, and I also remember the awful years in junior high, with so much homework, and feeling like it was looming over my life. I don’t remember that feeling in high school, though I know there was an enormous amount of homework. College was college, and studying and homework was just part of the deal – no point in complaining about it, but, again, it never felt soul crushing like junior high.

    Either way, life has come full circle, and the kid hates the amount of homework she has; no matter the size of work. I guess this is a lesson she has to learn – get your work done so you can do the stuff you want to do.

    Something like that.

  • Helping My Kid with Math Homework

    I don’t know about you, but when I found out that I was going to become a father, I had visions of all kinds of stuff I would do with my kid – like teaching them how to drive, or tucking them into bed, or dropping them off at college. But never in a million years did I ever contemplate in those early days how much time I would spend helping my kid with math homework.

    And to set the record straight from the beginning, my kid is really good at math. Like, it just makes sense to her, and she finds it fun. I am very proud of her.

    Me? I suck at math. I mean, I’m not awful at it, but there is a point where I am very proficient at all things math, and then there is this line, usually involving fractions, that I no longer have a mastery of mathematics, and start getting nervous that I don’t know what I am doing. I first encountered this feeling in 5th grade when everyone in my class seemed to understand how to multiply fractions, and… I didn’t. And it’s not that I felt dumb, it’s that I felt lost, like I didn’t know which way to go to find a solution. It’s a very unsettling feeling.

    I was able to dance around math in junior high, and high school, kept a B average but I had to work at it. Never took a calculus class, though now I wish I would have. I did the very unwise thing in college that I was warned not to do, which was save my final math class for final senior semester. Luckily, my university had a math class for arts majors – it was “Intro to Statistics.” I got a B.

    So, when the kid comes to me for help, there is a little wave of panic that wiggles through me, but I know I am just having a flashback to 5th grade. I am lucky that 4th grade math is completely in my wheelhouse, so in front of my kid, I still appear that I have a mastery on the subject. Though I might not be the best at explaining everything, I do at least come up with the correct answer.

    I know to enjoy this 4th grade year, because when she gets to 5th grade, I will be closing in on that line.