I Don’t Know Everything

In my youth when I had questions for my parents, they’d spin myths that entertained me with mystery, fright and elation.  Mom and dad knew everything when we were younger.  If we asked what that strange rumbling was during a rain storm they’d tell me God was bowling.  If I asked my mother why I couldn’t eat the seeds of an orange, she’d tell me it’s because an orange tree would grow in my belly.  The one I feared the most was if I lied, they could read it on my forehead.  I never doubted it.  It had to be fact because mom and dad said so.

 However, as you get older and slightly wiser to the world you come to understand there are reasons behind thunder storms that have nothing to do with bowling alleys and God. Also, you learn that seeds weren’t going to grow into trees inside you (that would be too messy).You don’t think less ill of your parents, you simply feel more learned and accept that your parents said what they felt they needed to tell you at the time.

Fast forward to my parenting years and realization sets in.  I HAVE TO KNOW EVERYTHING FOR MY CHILDREN!

Endless questions of: 

Why does a sun change color as its setting?

Why is that lady on TV crying?

Why did that boy order onion rings instead of French fries?

Why do mosquitoes bite you?

What is the color of a human brain?

Why did that man grow a beard?

STOP! Stop it all is what I want to say.  I get these questions in the library, in line at a food establishment or in the car.

Sometimes I know the true answer and other times I am pressed and simply make things up to appease them.  I have tried various techniques on my two.

This one I call the “Silent Mom”.

They’ll ask questions and I simply just don’t answer them, in the hopes they will relent. But they never do; they just keep asking the same question until I give them a response. My husband tells me I need to hold out longer.  He can go forever without answering them.  I am weak and break easily.

Another one I’ve tried is called the “Hmmph”

They’ll ask a perplexing question and I respond with a reflective “Hmmph.”  This method doesn’t work too often, and they inevitably persist until I acknowledge their query with more thoughtful reply.  As these kids get older it’s becoming tougher to dodge the difficult questions or conjure up colorful tales (as my parents did with me) every time.  On those occasions I simply tell the kids, “Mommy doesn’t know.”

I said this to my daughter one time when she asked me why they stopped selling Yodels in one of our grocery stores.  I had no idea and told her as much.

“Mommy doesn’t know.”

Silence permeated the car.  I checked the rearview mirror to see her crying.  I asked her what was making her so upset.

She said, “What do you mean you don’t know?  YOU KNOW EVERYTHING!  How can you not know this?”

I paused, for a moment and smiled.  My daughter really thought I knew everything, including the reasons for the shipment problems between the grocery store and the Yodels distributor.  I explained to her that even Daddy doesn’t know the answer to everything.

“I know that!” replied my sassy daughter.  Once again I cracked a smile, she’s a smart little girl did I mention that?  Anyway, I digress.  She explained to me through her wet lashes that I have always made things easy to understand.  I was a smart mommy and she loved that about me.  She thought I knew the answers to all the questions out there.  Unfortunately I do not.  I know she’ll have to face many years of questions that she can’t answer herself and it will be frustrating for her.  However, I am confident when the parenting role befalls my daughter; she’ll be prepared.  Heck, she already understands that mommies know more than daddies.  I’d say she’s halfway there.