I am terrified of numbers.  Ever since my 3rd grade teacher insisted on subjecting me to repeated public humiliation as I stumbled my way through my times tables, I’ve been convinced that Math is a menace, intent on torturing us zany creative types who’d rather be out doing decoupage.  

Things only got worse between me and my arch nemesis, Math, when in 7th grade Algebra, Mr. G dumped a very heavy life lesson at my feet.  As he rolled his hands one over the other in a cyclical effect, he proclaimed, “Math is a process, much like life is a process.  If you don’t understand math, you will never understand life!” 

Dude, that’s heavy.  It was especially heavy for a 14 year old math phobic.  After that, I feared math both for its ability to torture & menace AND for its relentlessness.  It seemed as though my entire LIFE  really did rest on my ability to grasp the finer points of Algebra. 

So I find it ironic that I’ve become rather good with numbers as a grown-up.  I think it stems from years of trying to calculate percentage discounts on clearance merchandise at the mall.  Being a savvy shopper takes a lot of smarts, after all.  Whatever the source of my new found confidence with numbers, I’m proud to be able to bring you my version of advanced math for mommy’s; equations that explain some of the more common parenting conundrums. 

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Creating Behavioral Change in Children

21 days: The number of days it takes to form a new behavioral pattern (or habit) in the human brain

2000 repetitions: The number of times you’ll need to repeat the same words before the average 3 year old’s brain processes them into behavior change

2000 repetitions/21 days = ~95 times per day* that you’ll need to repeat yourself to your 3 year old before you see any change in his behavior

*Multiply 95 by the number of children you have for a more accurate count

Finding Time for Relationship Maintenance

4 weeks:  Average number of weeks per month
5 per week:  Average number of evenings that you’ll collapse in an exhausted heap by 10PM

5 evenings per week x 4 weeks per month = 20 evenings spent comatose

2 evenings per month: Average availability of reliable babysitter

    30 days in a month
-  20 evenings of unconsciousness
= 10  evenings spent mostly, sorta-kinda’ awake
+   2  evenings of freedom provided by babysitter
= 12 evening available for semi-conscious sex 
-   5 days per month - length of average menses
=  7 potential evenings for semi-conscious sex, per month

7 evenings/4 weeks in a month = ~1.75* actual sexual encounters per month

*Some of these sexual encounters may even be with your partner

Finding Free Time

10 days:  Average number of employer paid vacation days per year

5 days:  Average number of employer sick days per year

2 days:  Average number of paid personal days/floating holidays

10 days + 5 days + 2 days = 17 paid ”free” days per year

12 colds: Average number of illnesses per year for the typical child under age 5

10 days: Average number of sick days the typical adult will need to take in order to stay home with sick children

17 free days – 10 days trapped at home caring for other sick people = 7 free days

4 colds: Average number of colds per year that will render YOU completely incapacitated

4 free days: Average number of vacation days that you’ll spend at home too sick to move

7 remaining free days – 4 free days spent home sick = 3 remaining free days

3 days: Average number of vacation days per year the typical parent uses to run errands that can’t be taken care of on weekends or with children in tow

3 remaining free days - 3 days spent running errands = 0 days spent actually vacationing

Conclusions:  Look at all the equations it took for me to tell you that you spend all day repeating yourself, aren’t having much sex, and never get a break!  Isn’t math amazing?

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I’m sure a statistician (or a 12 year old) could find a million different ways to reinterpret my mommy math.  I guess that’s the thing I learned about my evil friend, Math.  He may be menacing, intimidating and torturous, but he’s also easily manipulated. 

Now, if only I could get Dick to stop explaining the metric system to me…