Inquisitive? Scientific? Annoying? They all apply as we move into the new phase of life with a preschooler...the "Why" phase. I knew it would come...someday. Now "someday" is here...has actually been here for a few days, and has already worn out its welcome. Any answer I give now gets the same response: "Why?" Or, she'll mix it up a bit for me by asking, "But, why?" No explanation is good enough to appease her.
"God made it that way."
"Why?"
"Because I said so."
"But, why?"
Can I look at this as a chance to get as creative as I want with answers, knowing she's not really listening to me but just waiting for me to finish so she can ask her new favorite question? Not likely, because to go along with this new found inquisitiveness, she's also got the memory of an elephant. If I tell her that she can't have snack right at this very second because we're all out of snacks in the whole house, and the grocery store is out too, she'll remind me of this when I pull out snacks later in the afternoon and the next morning.
Then there's this lovely conversation that we have at least once a day:
"Mommy! Why does the cat srow (throw) up?"
"Because she eats too fast."
"Why?"
"She's the smallest and wants to get her share of food before the fat cats take it all."
"Why?"
"That's the way the world works."
"But, why?"
"God made it that way, I said so, and just because. Oh look, there's a plane!"
I'm a pretty patient person. After working with preschoolers and middle schoolers, special needs and general education students alike, I am ready for any number of "whys" that she'll inevitably throw my way until she's either too bored to continue or I've finally given the answer for which she was looking. My husband, however, is not so patient. I can't wait to see the smoke pour out of his ears while he tries to navigate this little part of our parenting journey. I'm sure that'll make for an interesting blog post...someday.
What is your favorite response when "Why" is thrown at you? Leave your answer in the comment section below.
Monday, August 13, 2012
Monday, August 6, 2012
Storms, Jiggling, and Ocean-blocking
Day 1 of our vacation began with a thunderstorm of epic proportions. It overstayed its welcome and made the power go out. The cars had just pulled into the driveway of the beach house and the rain started. The last piece of luggage made its way into the house just as the Heavens opened up and the power hightailed it outta here. We all agreed though, that a powerless, rainy day at the beach was far superior to a powerful, sunny day back home.
Oh, the irony of it all.
The week before vacation, my local weather person had been promising storms that never actually came. I get to the Outer Banks and get a storm so energetic that it kills the power and sends sheets of rain down upon us for 7 hours. If only my little town back home could've been so lucky...we needed the rain. I mean, farmers were asking others to pray for it during our church service.
Days 2 and 4 began at sunrise thanks to the Hurricane (read: my youngest daughter). The plus side - I was able to sneak in a 2.5 mile run on both days. My jiggly bits were, surprisingly, not as jiggly as last year! Progress!
Day 3 included the annual trip to Jimmy's Seafood Buffet. My FIL is a legend there. Being first in line is an art form he has certainly mastered and is a must when traveling with him to this particular eatery. The food is good, but what's better is watching my husband and his two younger brothers fight for the title of "Crab Leg King." Melted butter oozing down their chins, bits and pieces of crab flying over all of us...it's glorious.
Day 5 is a blur...I don't remember a single thing from that day. Must have been the new drink my BIL introduced me to...Private Stock Captain Morgan's and Crystal Light Lemonade. Tastes EXACTLY like amaretto! Sooo good.
Day 6 I fondly refer to as: Ocean-blocking Day
Y'all know of the "other" kind of blocking...boys detest it and usually a wing-man (of the male or female persuasion) is the cause. The kind of blocking to which I'm referring, my friends, is the fault of rude, socially inept individuals who lead their family members to a spot on the beach that is, in no way, available. Why is it not available, you ask? Well, because it's directly in front of our camp and totally blocks our direct view/access to the water. That's why!
The day began at dawn, with a cup of coffee that I didn't have to reheat 6 times, and my last 2.5 mile run of the week. After lunch, the little kids napped while the adults sat around and talked, watched non-cartoon related TV, or secluded themselves in the loft to read or write (guess who). One by one, the little ones arose and parents trucked upstairs to retrieve their respective toddlers, tug on their swimsuits, slather on the sunblock, and head back to the beach.
Now, having been raised by the daughter of a true Southern Lady, I was privy to proper beach etiquette from a very young age. You kick up sand into a stranger's coffee cup while chasing your little brother (even though you can't understand why anyone would take an open coffee mug onto a sand filled beach)? You apologize through the tears of embarrassment streaming down your face. You set up beach games out of other beach-goers' path to the ocean. You play your music loud enough for only your group to hear. So, imagine my surprise when I descend the stairs from the house to the beach, in the South mind you, to find a large group of unruly folks with an obnoxiously bright, huge umbrella, camped out not 10 yards directly in front of us. How rude! They must be from the Nawth, says my inner monologue to no one but herself. I was not quiet about the displeasure I felt after stumbling upon this discovery. Loud music - good, but loud - emanated from the center of their offending heap of beach paraphernalia, trashcan frisbee games were set up dangerously close to our blow-up baby pool, and all of it, all of it, was blocking our direct access to the ocean. How dare they! I tell you, if any of their errant frisbees had come anywhere near my babies, Momma Bear would have made her beach debut!
Maybe it's a sign of the times - people becoming more and more disrespectful and rude. Maybe it was just this particular group of tourists. All I can hope is that by telling my story, I can shed light on this epidemic of rudeness. If I've stopped even one family from ocean-blocking another, I'll consider that a success.
Oh, the irony of it all.
The week before vacation, my local weather person had been promising storms that never actually came. I get to the Outer Banks and get a storm so energetic that it kills the power and sends sheets of rain down upon us for 7 hours. If only my little town back home could've been so lucky...we needed the rain. I mean, farmers were asking others to pray for it during our church service.
Days 2 and 4 began at sunrise thanks to the Hurricane (read: my youngest daughter). The plus side - I was able to sneak in a 2.5 mile run on both days. My jiggly bits were, surprisingly, not as jiggly as last year! Progress!
Day 3 included the annual trip to Jimmy's Seafood Buffet. My FIL is a legend there. Being first in line is an art form he has certainly mastered and is a must when traveling with him to this particular eatery. The food is good, but what's better is watching my husband and his two younger brothers fight for the title of "Crab Leg King." Melted butter oozing down their chins, bits and pieces of crab flying over all of us...it's glorious.
Day 5 is a blur...I don't remember a single thing from that day. Must have been the new drink my BIL introduced me to...Private Stock Captain Morgan's and Crystal Light Lemonade. Tastes EXACTLY like amaretto! Sooo good.
Day 6 I fondly refer to as: Ocean-blocking Day
Y'all know of the "other" kind of blocking...boys detest it and usually a wing-man (of the male or female persuasion) is the cause. The kind of blocking to which I'm referring, my friends, is the fault of rude, socially inept individuals who lead their family members to a spot on the beach that is, in no way, available. Why is it not available, you ask? Well, because it's directly in front of our camp and totally blocks our direct view/access to the water. That's why!
The day began at dawn, with a cup of coffee that I didn't have to reheat 6 times, and my last 2.5 mile run of the week. After lunch, the little kids napped while the adults sat around and talked, watched non-cartoon related TV, or secluded themselves in the loft to read or write (guess who). One by one, the little ones arose and parents trucked upstairs to retrieve their respective toddlers, tug on their swimsuits, slather on the sunblock, and head back to the beach.
Now, having been raised by the daughter of a true Southern Lady, I was privy to proper beach etiquette from a very young age. You kick up sand into a stranger's coffee cup while chasing your little brother (even though you can't understand why anyone would take an open coffee mug onto a sand filled beach)? You apologize through the tears of embarrassment streaming down your face. You set up beach games out of other beach-goers' path to the ocean. You play your music loud enough for only your group to hear. So, imagine my surprise when I descend the stairs from the house to the beach, in the South mind you, to find a large group of unruly folks with an obnoxiously bright, huge umbrella, camped out not 10 yards directly in front of us. How rude! They must be from the Nawth, says my inner monologue to no one but herself. I was not quiet about the displeasure I felt after stumbling upon this discovery. Loud music - good, but loud - emanated from the center of their offending heap of beach paraphernalia, trashcan frisbee games were set up dangerously close to our blow-up baby pool, and all of it, all of it, was blocking our direct access to the ocean. How dare they! I tell you, if any of their errant frisbees had come anywhere near my babies, Momma Bear would have made her beach debut!
Maybe it's a sign of the times - people becoming more and more disrespectful and rude. Maybe it was just this particular group of tourists. All I can hope is that by telling my story, I can shed light on this epidemic of rudeness. If I've stopped even one family from ocean-blocking another, I'll consider that a success.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Dead as a Doornail
Let's chat about technology, shall we? I realize that without it you wouldn't be reading this or any other blog. Thousands of nobodies like me would continue about our lives. No one would know a thing about our personal or private lives, and instead of writing witty bits for strangers, we'd be doing something more productive - like dusting, ironing (which I detest), or weeding our gardens.
Today, however, I'm lost.
I raised my phone to snap a photo of the Hurricane wearing her Daddy's OSU hat (her cuteness rivaled anything a baby - human or otherwise - could conjur). Just as the flash pulsed, my phone went black.
DEAD.
Resurrection has not yet occurred. I'm still holding on to hope though.
Now, I'm utterly dumbfounded. How will I contact my friends? I haven't bothered to memorize a phone number since I first met my husband 6 years ago. The only other phone number I'd deemed worthy enough to memorize before that was my ex-boyfriend's from 3 years prior to that! Calling hostesses to confirm trunk show dates? Following up with ladies who want to be stylists? Fuggedaboudit!
UGH! What's worse? No Scramble with Friends. No mobile photos to upload, and no way to Facebook stalk while my husband plays an uber-important game of Civilization on our home's only computer.
I've been without my trusty sidekick for 3 hours now, and I'm already getting the DTs. Can I go on? Am I going to make it?
Doubtful.
Today, however, I'm lost.
I raised my phone to snap a photo of the Hurricane wearing her Daddy's OSU hat (her cuteness rivaled anything a baby - human or otherwise - could conjur). Just as the flash pulsed, my phone went black.
DEAD.
Resurrection has not yet occurred. I'm still holding on to hope though.
Now, I'm utterly dumbfounded. How will I contact my friends? I haven't bothered to memorize a phone number since I first met my husband 6 years ago. The only other phone number I'd deemed worthy enough to memorize before that was my ex-boyfriend's from 3 years prior to that! Calling hostesses to confirm trunk show dates? Following up with ladies who want to be stylists? Fuggedaboudit!
UGH! What's worse? No Scramble with Friends. No mobile photos to upload, and no way to Facebook stalk while my husband plays an uber-important game of Civilization on our home's only computer.
I've been without my trusty sidekick for 3 hours now, and I'm already getting the DTs. Can I go on? Am I going to make it?
Doubtful.
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