Well, we've hit it - that stage that I'm convinced is the bane of all parents' existences - the phase of constant "Why?" questions. Take today for instance - Yikealo and I were traipsing up and down the street on his morning tricycle ride and one of the other houses was being re-shingled. Here was the conversation:
Y: "Mom, menden?" (What's that?)
Me: "They're fixing the roof."
Me: "Because it was broken."
Me: "Well, just because sometimes a roof wears out and then the rain could get inside, so they have to fix it."
Me: (Didn't I just explain it, for crying out loud?) "Ummm...let's ride down the driveway of this empty house. Won't that be fun?"
I finally got his attention directed elsewhere, and we headed back to our house, where a city employee was flushing out the fire hydrant that sits in our front lawn.
Y: "Mom, menden?"
Me: "He's cleaning out the fire hydrant."
Me: "Because sometimes the water gets really dirty, and they need to run it out."
Me: "So that the water is clean again."
Me: "How about racing to the other end of the street? Bet you can't catch me!" (Sometimes avoidance is just the best option!)
Or take lunch today:
Y: "Mom, more pineapple."
Me: "You've already had some pineapple. Eat your sandwich first, and then I'll give you some more."
Me: "Because your sandwich is good for you. You can't live on just pineapple."
Me: "Because I said so. Now eat it, please." (And to think that such a short time ago, I thought I was going to be above using the old stand-by "because I said so!" How the mighty have fallen!)
And what is it exactly about little boys and their fascination with grime? I was vacuuming this morning, and Yikealo wanted to go outside and blow bubbles on the front steps. The first three times I checked on him, he was blowing bubbles or stomping on bugs or running his hands over our filthy car, but after I'd put the sweeper away, he wasn't on the porch any longer, so I went outside to investigate. As I walked through the garage, he came around the side of the house clutching huge fistfulls of grass that he had yanked out of the lawn. Huh? He dropped them when he saw me, and stood there looking slightly guilty. That's when I noticed that he had dumped half a bottle of bubble solution on the front step, and was covering it up with tufts of grass. Hmmm....like I'm not going to notice the big pile of dead grass on my steps? Not to mention the disgusting bits of sticky, soapy grass stuck to your hands? Just how unobservant do you think I am, anyway? I am so glad that I just spent 10 minutes scrubbing underneath your fingernails this morning, and now it looks like I haven't touched them in weeks!
We visited my parents again this past weekend, and got a bit of a late start driving back on Sunday evening, so Yikealo drifted off in the car. Here's a cute picture of him and his precious teddy bear Bereket.
Over the last two weeks, we've begun leaving his room before he's asleep at night. We'll usually stay with him for 10 or 15 minutes, and then kiss him goodnight and leave the room, after which he'll generally fall asleep in record time. It's turned into quite a ritual though, because when we leave, we have to say the following to Bereket also: "Bereket, listen to Yikealo. Close your eyes, be quiet, and go to sleep. I love you." Then we have to hug and kiss the teddy bear and place him on his own pillow. Yikealo grins hugely through the whole thing, and then he'll usually try to prolong it by telling us that Bereket needs to go potty or needs a drink. "Sorry son, but I know that Bereket most certainly does NOT need to go potty - now go to sleep!" Of course, Yikealo gets the parting shot: "Why?"
When the Self-Help Gospel Isn’t Helping You Anymore
18 hours ago