It’s been forever since I’ve posted anything. It’s just that my kids have required so much energy lately that every time I sit down to blog, no matter what topic I plan to cover, it comes out a Craigslist ad for full-time help.
Plus, my brain is completely fried from answering my 3-year-old’s questions. All the questions. All. The. Time.
When I’m working on a manuscript, my favorite scenes to write are the dialogue scenes.
Why? Because my characters get to have the conversations I would love to be having if I saw other adults during the day and was not being held hostage in a Honda Odyssey with two toddlers.
Instead of enjoying witty banter, my “conversations” are a long string of answers to an even longer string of questions.
These questions are at their worst in the car, when there’s no escaping each other. And we’re always there. I didn’t do a very good job of timing the kids’ activities this fall, so between school drop-off and swim lessons and school pick-up and dance class and speech twice a week, we never have quite enough time to go home between activities. So we basically live in the car on weekdays. This makes my vehicle look like it’s been chosen for an episode of Pimp my Ride, and the recipient is an individual who loves nothing more than empty fast food containers and coloring books.
If you’d dropped in on me at 10:45 yesterday, this is what you’d have heard.
Me: “Evelyn, please buckle up.”
Me: “Because being buckled in keeps you safe in the car.”
Me: “Because if you weren’t buckled in and I had to stop very quickly, you’d go flying out of your carseat and could bump and get hurt.”
Me: “Ev, just buckle up. I will drive the car once you’re buckled.”
Evelyn: “Where are we going?”
Evelyn: “Why to Target?”
Me: “Because we need groceries and at Target I can get both groceries and a Starbucks, and I really need a coffee.”
Evelyn: “Why you need a coffee?”
Me: “Because I’m tired.”
Evelyn: “Why you tired?”
Me: “Because I have a 5 lb. human growing in my belly. And I don’t sleep anymore. And you were up at 5:30.”
Evelyn: “Why was I up at 5:30?”
Me: “That’s a very good question. Why were you up at 5:30?”
Evelyn: “There was pee-pee coming out of my butt.”
Me: *gags silently*
Evelyn: “Are we on Western?”
Me: “No, we’re on Wauwatosa.”
Evelyn: “Why are we turning onto Wauwatosa?”
Me: “Because this is the road that will take us to where we need to go.”
Evelyn: “Why is this the road that will take us where we need to go?”
Me: *Attempts to ignore question.*
Evelyn: “How long until we get to the roundabout?”
Me: “Not long.”
Evelyn: “But how many minutes?”
Me: “Two minutes.”
Evelyn: “Why not thirty-teen minutes?”
Me: “Because thirty-teen isn’t a number.”
Evelyn: “But how long is two minutes?”
Me: *Attempts to ignore question again.*
Evelyn: “Is this the roundabout?”
Me: “No, this is a stoplight.”
Evelyn: “Why are we moving?”
Me: “Because the light turned green.”
Evelyn: “Why did the light turn green?”
Me: “Because it’s our turn to go.”
Evelyn: “Why is it our turn to go?”
Me: “Because we need to take turns with the other cars.”
Evelyn: “Why we need to take turns with the other cars?”
Me: “Because there are lots of cars going all different directions and if we didn’t have stoplights, everyone would crash into each other and no one would know when to drive.”
Evelyn: “Why are there lots of cars–”
Me: “You know what sweetheart, I need us to have a little quiet time.”
Evelyn: “Why you need us to have a little quiet time?”
Me: “Because all these questions tire me out and I just need a little break. Now Shhh.”
Evelyn: “Why you just need a little break?”
Evelyn: (at a new, higher volume) “Why you just need a little break?!”
Evelyn: (at an even higher volume) “Why you just need a little break?!?”
Me: “Evelyn I’ve told you I need some quiet time, I will not be answering you until you can be quiet for two minutes.”
Evelyn: “BUT WHY YOU JUST NEED A LITTLE BREAAAAK?!?”
Screaming, crying and whining ensues for the rest of the drive. This is all. Day. Long. I have answered so many inane “why’s” that my nightmares — which used to be reserved for hearing a home invader downstairs and not being able to get my legs to move in order to escape — now consist of that one single word whispered very quietly in my ear.
I tell myself it’s a phase, and that the why’s will eventually stop. Which I’m sure they will. Unfortunately, I have a second child. Every week he adds new words to his vocabulary, and a few weeks ago, that word was “Why.”
If you need me, I’ll be checking myself into Rogers Memorial for the remainder of 2017.
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