Friday, August 24, 2007

the girl who is going crazy

Matthew is in his "why" phase. (Please God, let this be a phase. A short one.) Every action or request for action inevitably ends with "why-y-y-y-y-y-y?" in a particularly piercing tone of toddler that can only be described as dog whistle meets dolphin meets the Macarena. (Translation: high, piercing and extremely annoying)

What has worked with the other two (well, really only Zack, Ian hasn't succumbed to this phase. I'm still waiting) was to answer the "why?" with a detailed explanation. I mean really detailed. Bore the paint off of walls detailed. And no dumbing it down either. Just the facts. All of them. This doesn't work with Mouseling. Particularly since most of his why's are in response to such basic requests as "Go clean your room" "Stop hitting your brother" and "When feeding the kitty, do NOT put his food dish inside the litter box." (you think I'm kidding on the last one, don'tcha? Shows how well you know my kids.) My "bore-'em-to-tears-so-they-quit-asking" technique doesn't seem to work here because he just throws himself on the floor in a snit anyway and usually starts the "why" barrage before I'm more than a breath into my explanation. In panic, annoyance and perhaps some primal parenting instinct, I find myself eventually abandoning all hope and simply replying "Because I said so!"

Beyond the "why's" there are the "where's." This is not just Matthew's game. This is ALL of the kiddos. (Well, except 11 of course, but we're not counting him until he can throw himself on the ground in a flurry of tears, pounding fists and shrieking wails) Any time I head to the door to go out, I get the "where are you going?" question. It's like being 16 again! They want to know where I'm going, what I'm going to do while I'm there, and when will I be back. And if its somewhere they WANT to go, they insist on going with me.

Nope. No Way. I am the official errand runner to get me OUT of the house. ALONE. I actually did my first grocery trip with all four yesterday: one in the sling, two in the cart, one running around trying to seem responsible so we'll let him have a bicycle. It wasn't terrible, but it is NOT my favorite thing to do. I'll continue to pawn the kids off on DH and spend the weekend "Momming" with all the saved up errands. Alone.

So I was leaving to go pick up some more milk the other evening and I get the usual barrage at the door. Trying to flummox them, the conversation went a little something like this:

Mouse: "Mommy, where you going?"

Me: "Out."

Mouse: "You go to the grocery store?"

Me: "Nope." (They always want to come shopping. It's cute that after years of being denied, they still cling to the hope I'll actually buy them everything they point at and say "Mommy, I want that!" Of course I'm not going to give them an excuse for a tantrum by spilling the beans of my actual destination. So I lie. There. I admitted it. I lie to my children. And to all of the sanctimonious people who have a problem with that, go ahead. Tell on me to Santa Claus.)

Mouse: "You go to the Dockers?" (translation: Doctor's office. Did I mention the two middle-men are hypochondriacs and enjoy going to the Doctor's?)

Me: "No."

Mouse: "You going..."

Me (cutting him off as I try to sneak out before Ian notices and joins the interrogation): "I'm going crazy. That's where I'm going."

Mouse: "You going crazy?"

Me: "Yep, crazy."

Mouse: "Oh."

then he takes the briefest of pauses while he digests this.

Mouse: "You going to work?"

'Nuff said.

1 comment:

jenscaleshr said...

LOVE it!! LOL!

(why didn't someone ever tell us that our kids would turn out smarter than we are?)