Well, it’s happened. We have entered the “why?” stage that I’ve heard is inevitable—and that in itself makes me wonder why, but no, we have too much of that going on already—and two days in, I’m already tired of it.
Because I don’t know. I don’t know why the truck went straight instead of turning. I don’t know why the speed limit is 60 mph, and I don’t know why the other car is going faster. I don’t know why the red leaves haven't fallen yet, why the light is green, or why that man isn't walking on the sidewalk. I don't. Friggin. KNOW.
The worst part is that I actually try to answer the questions. (He had to go home. It's a safe speed. Because they're speeding. Because it's not time, it's our turn to go, he's not being safe.) Now, as any parent who has weathered this stage will know, the penalty for doing so is the resulting, "but why?" In other words, by trying to make the question into a teachable moment, I am beginning what will be an endless loop of "why?"s until I finally cave and say (mutter, shriek), "I don't know."
I remember when I first saw this comedian Louis C.K.'s spiel on this topic. That bit (also the source of this post's title) starts at about 7:10 in (although the whole thing's a pretty damned funny commentary on parenting). (Also, if you're sensitive to swearing, uh, skip it.):
http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=4u2ZsoYWwJA
I laughed my ass off. Of course, I saw this about a year before I got pregnant. And don't get me wrong, it's still extremely funny, but because I'm now watching it from the other side, my laughter has a bit of an edge to it, mostly because I really do start getting into existential crisis mode about five "why?"s in.
T, of course, has the best solution: he just makes shit up. But I figure that we can't both go that route, otherwise we'll never be able to ship the kid off to college. So, wish me luck. I'll be the one in the corner rocking back and forth, whimpering, "I don't know. I don't. I swear I don't!"
I may or may not be exaggerating. I'll keep you posted.
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2 comments:
J, our oldest, has moved on from the "why's" to "Which would you rather have..."
Which would you rather have, Mom? A shower in rocks or a shower in cement?
Which would you rather have, Mom?
A really fast car or really slow donkey?
Which would you rather have, Mom?
Lose our house or lose our car?
LOL... and oh, dear, it hadn't occurred to me that it could get worse! Perhaps I should just content myself with the "why?"s for now, then.
(I must say, J sounds particularly inventive!)
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