Life's Persistent Questions

(with a nod to Guy Noir)

One Mother's Persistent Questions about Life

1. Why. Are. Children. SO. Loud?

2. Is calm, detached parenting even possible? Do the "experts" who recommend it have children?

3. Will a pre-teen truly die of embarrassment if someone sees the traces of un-rubbed-in sunscreen on his face?

4. Is screaming at kids really all that bad? Isn't it possible, what with the way parenting advice evolves, that a generation from now, the new best practices in parenting will include screaming early and often, thus demonstrating that I was way ahead of the curve back in 2011?

5. Do I have the kind of kids who will grow up to be geniuses, who will make important contributions to the quality of human life, in spite of spending way too much time in front of TV and computer screens? Oooo, let's hope so.

6. Is it fair to characterize the parent-teen relationship as one of mutually perceived intentional torture?

7. When four of my kids suddenly need new soccer cleats all at the same time, does this mean I am being punished for some misdeed? It feels like that's what that means. And isn't there some other way for me to atone for my sins besides shelling out a gazillion dollars on shoes I don't get to wear?

8. When it comes right down to it, which one will I choose: coffee or my health?

9. Do you need to have "the talk" with one of your kids? This one I have an answer for! Well, Julia Sweeney does, and it's probably more of a cautionary tale than a how to, but well worth the watching, so here you go:

For my part, I will carry on and keep up the search for answers to life's mysteries. The search is at least half the fun, right?

* * *

Ask Me Anything. Except That.

I finally had to have the talk, the one I’ve been dreading, with my daughters. I know, I know, there comes a time in every child’s life when she asks big questions. I had just hoped to have a few more years before dealing with certain issues, a few more precious years of preserving their ignorance and avoiding delicate topics.

As a parent, I consider myself fairly well prepared for most of life’s tough questions. But this one? Not so much. I just didn’t want to have this talk. Didn’t want to justify my own behavior. Didn’t want to talk about how old is old enough for certain behaviors and habits. Didn’t want to answer any detailed questions. Didn’t want to give away too many of my secrets.

But today, a day that seemed ordinary in every way, the question came my way:

Is coffee good for you?

There is no right answer to that question.

IDK

Kids come with a lot of questions. Most of them, I cannot answer, or at least not without research. Here are all the things to which I said "I don't know" this weekend:

• How far does a bullet fly?
• Why are white people called Caucasian? Why does it sound so much like Asian?
• What does the 'A' stand for in double A batteries?
• Is Hosni Mubarak a good person?
• Would you wear a burka if it was part of your religion and you lived in a country where the president made it illegal to wear one?
• What is the difference between a vegan and a vegetarian? Yeah, I thought I knew that one until I utterly failed to explain it coherently and ended up with an IDK.
• When was the last time a volcano erupted?
• Is Justin Timberlake nervous right now?
• Why can African American people use the n-word but no one else can, and why would they want to?
• How are you going to fix your computer? (This after the power cord prong thingy snapped off inside my laptop, rendering it un-power-up-able.)
• Can I go to the skate park tomorrow?
• Why do women always say other women are beautiful but men don't talk about how other men look? Actually, I did come up with a pretty decent answer for this one...but went with the IDK at first.
• Can you make us some popcorn? I was so brain dead by the time this question came up that I literally answered: I don't know.

I pondered all of these questions, as well as the ones I was able to answer more fully, as the cold morning light shifted from grey to bright across my bedroom this morning. Pinned as I was between a four year old knee in my back and an eight year old arm across my chest, I considered how many questions these little warm breathing bodies have. They are quiet now, the only time they will be all day. This is my chance to recharge, to get ready for another day full of words and questions, endless chatter and conversation. And probably some yelling.

Morning is rich with promise and possibility. My overwhelming love for my children pours out of me as I watch their sleeping chests rise and fall, and listen to the small sucking noises and the murmurs and whimpers of slow waking. Can I freeze time for awhile just to watch them sleep, where they literally look like angels who miraculously grace my presence every day? I try. I want to stay in this warm and quiet little world, where love protects me like the heavy homemade quilt that covers us. I want to live here forever. But at my back I always hear, time's winged chariot drawing near, and I know that in a precious few moments, they will be awake and asking question after question, and they will at some point in the next few hours seem more like demons bent on breaking my spirit than the angels they are in the quiet early spaces of each day.

Will I live up to their expectations and their questions today?

IDK.

* * *

What's Her Secret?

One of my New Year's Resolutions is to ask the questions that lurk in the corner recesses of my mind, to face the things I wonder about. So here's one:

My kitchen windows face my neighbor's kitchen window, the one right over her sink. She has a young family, like me; she's got four kids, and is a stay at home mom. So can someone please tell me why I never see her standing at her sink? Or why her kitchen light is never on? How is it that she spends so little time in the kitchen? I am always in mine. Sometimes, like now, I'm sitting at the kitchen table surfing the web and blogging, but my lights are on and I'm moving around, making coffee, cleaning up messes left behind from last night, planning for another 21 plates full of food (today's three squares for 7 family members), and her kitchen? Dark and quiet, as usual.

What is up with that?

* * *

Happy New Year everyone! May we all find answers to life's tough questions this year.

Question to Ponder for Today

Why is it that commercials that advertise household cleaning and kitchen products frequently feature men with British accents? Are British men the best domestic role model for American housewives? Do British men really hit that target demographic?

* * *

It's the Most Discombobulating Time of the Year

Things that seem impossible today: getting my daughter dressed...brushing my hair...finding socks...being peaceful...organizing my desk...finishing one damn cup of coffee...interacting with others without channeling my inner bitch...putting the laundry away...locating the mute button on my three year old...and preparing for Christmas.

Questions I am pondering today:

Is a muzzle an appropriate Christmas gift for a toddler? How about a straightjacket?

Can Santa bring me a martini? Can he come NOW?

Do I really need to get new tires and brakes right now, in December of all times of the year? If so, do you think the kids will be happy to find some Michelins and brake pads wrapped up under the tree on Christmas morn?

Where are my keys, my blue tooth, my cell phone, my nerves, and my tylenol?

If I abscond with the box of Trader Joe's Candy Cane Joe-Joe's, which will the children miss more: their mother or the cookies?

In the absence of matching socks, can I dress her in mis-matched socks, and in the absence of those, how about dirty socks, and in the absence of those, can I leave her here whilst I run errands in the freezing cold?

If I start driving right now, how far will I get by the Witching Hour?

* * *

I Like People, It's Humanity I Can't Stand

My son asked me today why hip hop artists and rap singers wear big fat crosses if they sing about bad stuff like drugs and killing and other bad things.

An excellent question, offspring.

So I turned it back on him. I pay attention to parenting "experts." "Why do you think they do that?"

He thought it was because they just want to look good. A good answer, and probably fairly accurate. I gave him two more.

First, because every single person on earth has both good impulses and bad ones, and a person can have both good and bad qualities, ideas, actions, etc.

And second, because they're idiots. He nodded knowingly, with a slight smile, at that answer. He's heard it before, I think.

Nuff said.

I was quite proud of the question itself, though. Thoughtful boy, that one.

Questions, Questions

This whole blogging thing is harder than I thought it would be! I haven't had any time in the past few days to post anything. We've had a busy, but relatively unexciting weekend of soccer games and general playing; Rick worked a long day on Sunday. Before I knew it, that time I was carving out to write got eaten up by feeding, cleaning, playing, and various other activities.

But this whole idea about kids playing on their own, or discovering the outdoors, well, it's just been in the news these days, hasn't it? Yesterday's Chronicle had another article about kids being unused to -- even uncomfortable in -- the great outdoors. Another good read. Rick and I wish we could pick up and move somewhere rural and quiet and conducive to hours of outdoor play. Maybe we will someday...

***

And here's a small list of the questions I got yesterday from my oldest, after he and his brother spent time with some friends, two boys about their ages. These are kids we really like, and we really like their mom, but MAN! One afternoon yields all of this?????

What is humping?
What does f*** mean?
Why does Joey call his dad's girlfriend's daughter his sister?
Did you know that Joey's mom smokes?
Do you want to hear the bad words I listened to in some music today? (What mother would say no to that?)
Joey said his parents didn't get along; what does that mean? Why don't they live together?

All the more remarkable because we really do like this family. They are certainly living in a vastly different world than my kids are. While I don't want them exposed to so much all at once, I'm savvy enough to know that we can't pick and choose when our children will have tough questions. I would prefer fewer questions all in one day...but I don't get to make that decision either, I suppose. My informal poll of a few friends tells me that 3rd grade is a pretty normal time for all of the questions about sex. I guess I'll be going back to my friends who have already had that talk and saying "Now, how did you do that, again?" (You know who you are...)

On to another day...

So many questions, so little time

Here are some of the questions I have been asked in the past 24 hours:

Can I have a cell phone when I turn 9?
Where is my yo-yo?
Do I have to eat the green beans?
Did you fix my frog yet?
Did you sew my nightgown yet?
What's for dinner?
Why do I have to go to school?
Have you ever seen a french fry walking down the street talking on a cell phone?
Where is my yo-yo?
Where is my homework?
Where is my yo-yo?
Do we HAVE to pick up the girls?
Where are my shin guards?
Why can't I watch a show?
Does this mean I can't play soccer in the house?
What is a cherry-picker?
Can I paint my fingernails?
Where is my yo-yo?
Where is my pencil?
Can you help me with my homework?
Can you do my homework?
Can I fingerpaint?
Why can't I fingerpaint?
Why do people have tattoos?
Why does Emmett (neighbor) smoke so much?
Where is my yo-yo?

As you might imagine, I really hope I find the flippin' yo-yo soon.

See, this is part of what I mean by motherhood being ridiculous. It is simply ridiculous to be asked so many questions, by so many people, in such a short span of time. My favorite, of course, is the one about the french fry and the cell phone. What goes on in those little heads, one can only imagine.