I’m going to say it, and it’s one of those things I’m not too keen to admit to, so I’m going to have to get the words out and move on.
I made a mistake.
When I say I don’t like to make mistakes it’s not that I’m so arrogant I think I never make them, it’s just that I’m a researcher and a planner. I like to know the ins and outs of everything I do. If I don’t know about something I’ll find out all I can, or I’ll admit I don’t know. I’m a mistake avoider if there’s such a thing.
I’m not sure whether it’s a big one, or a vital one to stop me veering off in a direction that’s unmanageable, but it’s a mistake nonetheless.
I’ve spent the last month happily planning out our maths work for the year, printing away worksheets from Twinkl and neatly filling out spreadsheets as we completed each task. So far, so good. We’ve happily ploughed through lots of work and my system worked wonderfully for September. Then last night whilst working out our work for October I realised we couldn’t work on what I’d planned without knowing what I’d planned for the month after!
In the grand scheme of things it’s really not that major. We’ve picked it up early and I’ve managed to have a re-jig of our timetable to accommodate our new plan.
What it has shown me however, is some of the things I’d forgotten about from those many years ago when I was at school. It’s strange how the fear from over thirty years ago has a way of creeping over you. I’m not sure why I have such a hang up with maths. I was in top group at school, I passed my GCSE and I had a career in financial services. But still I don’t consider myself a numbers person. I find myself worrying that this is where I’m going to let B down. Which is ridiculous as B’s dad is an accountant and constantly reassures us that he can help where I can’t.
Where do these labels come from and how can we help to overcome them? I don’t like the idea of being identified as the person who’s good at this, but can’t do that. It’s the fear of growing into this preconceived idea of someone else’s that I don’t like. I’m not sure if it comes from my family structure or not. I don’t recall being pigeon holed at home, but I can tell you now we have very different and distinct personalities and maybe subconsciously I’ve chosen this box for myself. Almost as if all the good labels were taken and I’ve had to become what was left.
I know that I don’t want to pass this fear onto B. At the moment he is still in the delightful phase of where he believes everything and anything is possible. Every now and then he’ll have a wobble, usually when faced with his 6 weekly ice skating tests, but on the whole, it’s him against the world. Anything that can’t be solved can be put in the dustbin. Right now he has enough faith in the pair of us to get through so I’ll go with that