Am I Smarter Than a 5th Grader?

The decision to homeschool Connor was not an easy one. For months my husband and I wavered back and forth, weighing the pro's and con's. Finally, the August before school was to start we made the decision - I was going to do this! Apparently the pro's outweighed the con's. Let me break it down: I'd get to spend more quality time with Connor, not to mention the one-on-one time I feel he needs to get ahead, perhaps Aidan will pick up a thing or two and be ahead of the class when he goes to school, and - I had 13 1/2 years of schooling under my belt, not to mention 30-some-odd years of life experience. I could do this!! Then we started. At first I was loving it! I was getting a refresher on some of the things I had forgotten, learning some new things, and sharing my love of certain subjects with my kid - what could be better? Sure, some cracks started in my perfect plan, Aidan is more of a distraction than anticipated, it's hard to have quality time with your student when he'd rather be daydreaming or doodling than reading Social Studies, small cracks, nothing insurmountable. Then the dreaded subject reared it's ugly head - Math!! Specifically, story problems. When we were pondering the subject of homeschooling, sure math came up - it was always one of my weaker subjects in school, but I, full of confidence proclaimed "It's 5th grade math, surely I'm smarter than a 5th grader!" Apparently not when it comes to story problems. As I was checking Connor's test, I noticed he didn't answer one of the questions, so I decided I'd walk him through it. Turns out I should have tried it before I asked him to sit with me. As I stared at the problem, the lines started to blur, and the next thing I knew the problem was written in Greek. All of my doubts and insecurities came pouring over me. I suddenly remembered that I had taken freshmen algebra all four years of highschool, that the year and a half I had done after highschool was at a community college, nicknamed Moron Valley, that my life experience consisted of wearing kahki pants and fitting people for shoes. I couldn't do this!! Connor, looking at me with concern, whispered "maybe we should call Daddy". I wanted to tell him to forget the problem, he'd never use story problems in real life, and walk away. Turns out, story problems teach problem solving skills. So, I sent Connor away and sat, pencil in hand for 37 minutes - and solved the damn thing. I shared my triumph with Connor, who wasn't impressed - he wanted to know if it was time for lunch yet.

So, to answer my own question, am I smarted than a 5th grader? I hope so, but I am also humbled - by a story problem...