Love, Squared

When I was in college, I thought I would be a hot shot and join the honors program. While not all of my classes had to be "honors level," there were several classes each student needed to take in order to graduate as part of the honors college. One such class? Honors calculus.

I need to be very clear here. I. Hate. Math.

In high school, I managed to squeak by with the least amount of math classes ever. I never took physics. On my first day of Algebra the teacher gave us a 3x5 card and asked us what we'd like to have learned by the end of the semester. I wrote (like any snotty sophomore in high school would) I wanted to know what A equaled. I never did figure that one out.

My disdain for math is, essentially, why I became a communications major. It was the least likely major I knew of to have required math classes.

So when I found out I had to take an honors calculus class, I panicked. I scheduled a meeting with my advisor to very clearly explain to him that I was a smart kid, but I wasn't that smart. I would never pass an honors calculus class. Ever.

He smiled. He assured me that, not only would I pass, but I would likely get an A. He explained there were two honors tracks for the calculus course. One for math majors and one for non-math majors. I wasn't convinced. I pleaded my case some more, but it fell on deaf ears. He told me to give it a week and if I was still worried, maybe I should reconsider my place in the program. Hater.

So I reluctantly went to my first honors calculus class. Honestly, almost everyone else in my class looked as terrified as I did. I don't remember much of that first day, but I remember the professor saying, "I know many of you are concerned about how well you will do in my class. I can assure you - if you walk out of here with less than an A, I have not done my job."

Turns out? I don't think I ever solved a single equation. The class was less about the numbers and more about the process. Why did calculus exist? What did it teach us? How could we apply the equations in our every day world? Yep. It was a writing class. We wrote essay upon essay about calculus. Plugging in equations when necessary to prove our point, but never really needing to solve for an answer. My crowning glory? An eight page paper on discontinuities.

I give you this background information for two reasons. One: I was damn proud of that eight page paper. Two: it goes to the point of this post.

There are a lot of things about being a parent that you can't fully appreciate until you are, in fact, a parent. Lately, one of those things has become exponentially apparent (no pun intended). There is an amazing, overwhelming feeling you experience when you witness those you love - be it friends or family - loving your children. When Lindsey is quick to snuggle into the arms of a dear friend without hesitation, it's magic. When Ryan battles his Poppy on the floor in an epic pillow fight, it's enchanting. Even in passing, when people talk of our kids with a sense of pride and love that I thought only we, as their parents, could have, it's breathtaking. More precisely? It's love, squared.

Or, as my honors calculus professor would prefer: Love²