I'm a bit of an introvert, so one of the hardest things about being a mother, for me, is all that interacting I have to do with my children. Especially when it comes to the questions, my god, the questions. You know, to bring up the old cliche, I would be thrilled if Mallory (that would be my older daughter) would ask me something straightforward like, "Why is the sky blue?" Because that is a question that has a rational answer. But Mallory doesn't ask questions like that. Mallory asks questions like these:
1. The Unanswerable. "Mommy, what was that in the road?" she asked this morning as we were driving to my in-law's house. "I don't know, I didn't see it," I said. "But what WAS it?" she asked. "Mallory, I don't know, I didn't see it," I repeated. "But Mommy, what WAS it?" she asked, becoming shrill. "Um....grass?" I said. "Oh," she said. Oy.
2. The Repetitive. Last year around this time (she's now 4.5), every twenty seconds she would ask me, "What's your name?" All day long, "what's your name? what's your name?" The proper response was "Mommy," although she'd sometime accept "Krista." If I tried to be clever and say, "Mortimer" she'd get enraged. If I said, "You know what my name is, silly!" in an effort to be light-hearted, or if I turned it around and said, "I don't know, you tell me what my name is!" she'd get enraged. I finally realized that "what's your name?" was like a conversational tic with her, something she'd say instead of "Um" or "Like" or "Anyway." That didn't make it any less annoying. Now, the question she asks about 37 times an hour is, "Can I go play with Maggie and Lizzie today?" (Those would be her best friends, who live across the street.) She asks this even if I've already said no, or if I've said yes but not until after lunch, or if it's bedtime, or if we've just come home from Maggie and Lizzie's house.
3. The Spiral into Absurdity. "Mommy, when will the sun come up?" In the morning. "But what time?" Around 6:30. "But when is that?" In about 9 hours. "But how long is that?" Well, it's 9 hours. "Is it a long time?" Yes, but you'll be asleep. "But how long of an hour is nine hours?" It's just nine hours. "But will the sun be hours away?" Um...yes? "But how long is the sun?" What? "Mommy! I mean, how much sun is IN the hour?" Honey, I don't understand the question. "MOMMY!"
4. The Exasperating. "Mommy, is it okay if I sneeze now?"
5. The Heartbreaking. "Mommy, when are you going to die?"
And so on. So far, my younger daughter can only ask one question: "Dis?" But it's coming. I just hope that Mallory outgrows the worst of her impossible question-asking before Phoebe starts up. Mallory has other conversational quirks too, which I bring up to explain the title of my blog. Lately she commands us to "always remember" the finer points of all of her requests. I believe that she must think that we have the short term memory of a blue tang. "I want ice and water in a sippy cup," she'll say. "Always remember to put it in a sippy cup. And always remember that." Last month while driving to the beach, she informed us three times in thirty seconds that she did not want, in any circumstance, to stop to eat dinner. "I dont' want dinner. Always remember that, Mommy." Just to bug her, Chris said, a few seconds later, "Hey Mallory, what do you want for dinner?" Mallory emitted her trademark screaming growl of frustration and said, "Mommy! I DO NOT WANT NO DINNER! Always remember that. And Daddy, always remember that I am talking to Mommy, NOT YOU!"
And the thing is, I do want to always remember that, and so much more. When Mallory was very small, I kept a journal. Once or twice a week I'd record how she was developing -- Mallory stacked three blocks today! Mallory said "Elmo!" Mallory started daycare (a sad one, no exclamation point). But I didn't keep up with it, and now I have a second baby for whom I haven't even started a photo album, much less a more detailed record of how she's growing and changing. So I'm starting this blog, in hopes that it will help me to remember.
Comments
I can tell I'm going to enjoy your blog!
I loved this post! (I lived with Aimee our first year at Tech and grew up in Friona, if you don't know who this crazy lady is commenting on your blog!) I spent this weekend with my nephews (3 1/2 and 1 1/2) and I didn't know my mouth could get tired from answering all of the questions. My favorite: "Howwy, why do you have to go to Dallas to go to work? Can't you just stay here with me and go to work with Dada?" I'd love to Jared, I really would!
Holly