Until I had kids. Most days were fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants lucky-if-you-get-anything-done kinds of days after that. and I realized that this whole “well thought-out” thing wasn’t going to cut it anymore if the world was revolving faster than my brain could function. Sometimes you have to decide whether or not you want your brain to keep up, or your body- and when you have little kids, the body usually wins. BUT! I was still hanging on to the rational thought. Kids would fight, kids would argue, kids would ask questions- and I would ALWAYS have a rational answer. It might not have been thought about as much as before (like.. the consequences for answering things certain ways. Learned that one the hard way by calling pollen “tree sperm” around Holden. oops)- but at least it was rational! AND I remembered to brush my hair! Go me!
Then came the “why” phase. I was prepared to answer questions. Even awkward ones. With the rational part of my brain still working- I knew how to dodge some things and sneakily answer others- but WHY deserves its own shelf in the parenting hall of fame. I’m not referring to the toddler “why” stage- OH how I wish it ended there! I used to think it did- how naive was I??
Even though kids learn more words, how to cope with emotions, self-soothing, compassion, that they should pick up their own shit off of the floor (even if they don’t. They KNOW they should. That counts for something!)- they still want to question EVERYTHING.
There is no such thing as a stupid question, you say? Spend one week being questioned like you’re a suspect in interrogation by a small child. EVERY move you make, everything you say, everything you DON’T say, everything you were ABOUT to say. Why? WHY?
I now have a new understanding and appreciation of my mother and her constant bitching that she swore she sounded like a broken record. My bad, Mom. I get it.
There are certain words I hear EVERY day that I always swear if I hear one more time I’m going to take a spoon to my ears and start digging… of course I never do, but I want to.
I don’t want to!
I’m NEVER (insert activity here) AGAIN!
I’m NOT hungry!
But HE/they/she/the dog/daddy/SOMEBODY did it first!
Why can’t I EVER do ANYTHING I want to do?
Why?? I wanna know WHY you’re asking WHY all the time! Answer me that one, smart ass?
Bye bye rational mother- hello tearing-hair-out ISITBEDTIMEYET?!? Mommy. And when I get to that point, which I swear I do just about every day now because every day is full of questioning and refusing and sassing- I only have ONE answer. It is the answer that trumps all other answers. It is the answer that tells the children. It is the only thing I can think of when well-thought and rational go flying out the window after the gazillionth time of being asked WHY WHY WHY
BECAUSE I SAID SO! THAT’S WHY!
I don’t know what it is about that statement that feels so satisfying. So…. right. I am mom, therefore what I say goes- and there’s nothing you can do about it. And I don’t have to explain to you why! Maybe I would have had you not asked me so many times. Maybe I already DID tell you why in three different yet equally rational ways and those just weren’t satisfactory enough for you (aka- not yes)- MAYBE you didn’t even ask me a why question, I’m just exhausted by the sound of whining and back-sass that now all you get is this. BECAUSE I SAID SO! Period! End of discussion!
I’m not going to tell you that this always shuts them up, or that there isn’t another “why?” preceding this- but you learn to tune that out after a while.
Me: Man, my toy allergy eyes are bad today Kids: What? Me: Yeah,if I see any of your crap on my floor I'll have a reaction and THROW IT AWAY
@AmericHousewife it's cute you think I'll survive to them turning that age!
Oh, you're really in for it! pic.twitter.com/xXzFxhlxRJ
Spring into Spring-a-Palooza at Great Wolf lodge! goo.gl/fb/Ey9QEb
Vodka might rhyme with Friday, but what rhymes with Tuesday is "SHUT THE HELL UP AND LET ME HAVE MY COFFEE!"
Am I a "housewife"? Technically yes. Do I do "housewife" things? UM. NO. I fail. holdinholden.com/2014/08/i-am…
7yo: what's a colon? 9yo: it's the top of a smiley face Husband: ...and the inside of your butthole Me: *deep sigh*