Why ... Why not?

Okay, so there are a lot of cliche things about being a parent. One of them is that your child constantly asks, "Why?"

I kid you not, I thought this was a piece of parental folklore. I didn't think it really happened the way it was spoken about. I figured there had to be some exaggeration in there someone.

There isn't. It's real. God help us all.

Our child has been in the "Why" phase for awhile now. It's mind-numbing. At least for me. For an easygoing guy like Tom (self-professed "glass-half-full"), this isn't a big deal. In fact, he finds it funny. Entertaining even.

Me? I find it as pleasant as no air conditioning on a 100-degree day.

"Abby, you can't play with scissors."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you to cut yourself."

"Why?"

For the love.

For my husband, this is nothing. For me, it's like Chinese water torture.

Then it got worse.

I write and edit for a living. I like to be grammatically correct. I'm one of those annoying people who can't stand it when people don't hyphenate properly.

Well, Abby (fittingly) decided to play on this when she took the "Why" phase to the next level.

She started asking "Why not?" in completely the wrong context.

"Abby, I need you to throw that away."

"Why not?"

Just consider me defeated.

"Abby, don't jump in the bath tub, I don't want you to slip."

"Why not?"

This is when prayers go up.

It's funny ... but it's not funny. For the love, child, don't injure yourself. Do you want to injure yourself? I didn't think so. STOP. ASKING. WHY.

I doubt this will actually stop anytime soon. In the meantime, throw some positive vibes my way.

Me, According to Abby

I'm at that point where I really should be jotting down small notes and interactions with my children, but I ultimately don't and then don't remember what I'm supposed to write down.

Then I feel guilty for not remembering and thinking that I'm failing my children and this blog for not writing down the cherished memories that I will ultimately forget.

My daughter in particular offers a lot of material. She picks up on words and terms that I never thought she would (e.g. "silky", "sour"), though the best has to be when she uses phrases that I use on a regular basis.

It is at those moments when you realize just how you come off to your children.

As far as Abby is concerned, this is me:

Name: Mommy, Chrissie, Mama

She has also called me ChrissieTom. Not really sure where that one came from. Well, I mean, I know where it came from, but I don't know why she used it.

Anyway, moving on.

Interests: Drinking coffee, running, exercising, working, finishing my work, text messaging

It is in this category that you, as a parent, recognize what is important to you.

Examples:

• Abby was playing in a car and declared she "had to go to work". She had to rush because she was running late. She still stopped for coffee.
• Sometimes I ask Abby to do something and she tells me she "just has to finish some work" and that she'll "be done in two seconds."
• Abby enjoys putting the heart rate monitor band around her waist and then telling me she's going to exercise.
• Abby does a mean downward dog.
• If I'm pushing her and Jack in the double stroller and I'm walking, she will ask, "Mommy, why are you not running?" Other times she will just yell, "Mommy, run! Run faster!"
• I get ready to walk out the door for work and Abby tells me not to "forget my phones" (yes, plural).
• My phone went off the other day in the other room and Abby brought it to me.

Habits: Tardiness, forgetfulness

Examples:

• Through tears because she doesn't want me to leave, Abby will say, "Mom--sniff--sniff--my ... don't ... forget ... your purse and your phones."
• She has told me not to forget my keys.
• I have then had to ask her if she'd seen my keys.
• She tells me not to forget my sunglasses.
• I have then had to frantically search for said sunglasses. Then I declare I'm late.

Traits: Loving, encouraging, demanding, others that I don't need to get into

Examples:

• Abby quickly learned to say, "GET DOWN!" to the cats when they are on the table. Best part is, they listen to her.
• The other day I handed Abby something and she exclaimed in an exaggerated tone, "Oh, Mommy, that was so nice of you!"
• I put a puzzle piece in the proper place and she said, "Great job, Mommy!"

I have to say that seeing myself through my child's eyes has to be one of the best parts of being a parent ... though I know the not-so-flattering traits and habits will continue to surface.

Potty Training: The Great Unknown

If there is one thing I know with absolute certainty, it's that non-parents have no idea the glee that comes along with successful potty training moments.

I can honestly say that anyone who shared potty training stories with me in my pre-parenting days had his or her story fall on uninterested ears.

Hell, potty training stories today that aren't about my kid don't really garner a strong level of interest on my part.

This clearly doesn't keep me from sharing successful potty training stories with anyone -- including those who read this blog -- so please don't take my comments personally. I'm thrilled for those who are walking down the path toward diaper-free living, but there is something that comes along with seeing your own child succeed that is like no other.

We have been moving at a slow clip with Abby and she has been wearing "big girl potty pants" (yes, this is our lingo) for three full days. After the first day of five total accidents, we had just one yesterday and none today!

The coveted moment came when she really went on the potty for the first time this evening. I'm not going to spell it out ... I think we all know what I'm talking about.

She was so proud and we were so proud. You would have thought she just discovered the cure for cancer. I screamed even though Jack was sleeping. We danced. It was glorious.

The best part, though, was when I had to then ::ahem:: use the facilities (just No. 1 people, get your minds out of the gutter!). Abby was in the bath tub and insisted on "looking in the potty".

She then mimicked my voice inflection perfectly, saying, "Great job, Mommy, I'm so proud of you!"

Aw, shucks.

I'm not sure what was more gratifying: getting her praise or knowing that we sound that way to her.

Either way, my kid is sporting some Sofia the First and Hello! Kitty underwear and we couldn't be more proud.

I probably wasn't supposed to find this funny

We had the Little Tikes car out and Abby was "driving". She had her Minnie Mouse bubbles in the back.

Jack crept up behind her, grabbed the Minnie Mouse bubble stick and booked it with a look of sheer terror on his face ... he knew what he had just done.

Took everything I had not to bust out laughing.

As Abby screamed, "NO! JACK! THAT'S MINE!" Jack ran to me for safety, handing me the bubble stick with a look of complete satisfaction.

He had successfully hunted his prey.

Coming out of the woodwork ...

... to be sentimental.

I know I typically go for the humor angle, but this was beyond adorable and touching and I have to share.

As I told Tom, if I cried in happy moments, I would have been bawling. But I don't, so I cried on the inside.

These days, we put Jack to bed around 7:30. Abby goes to bed around 8:30. Jack has been awake when we bring Abby into the room. He gets beyond excited when we enter the room and any drowsiness he may have had dissipates.

I tuck Abby in and then I have to calm Jack down. Inevitably, he cries when I leave the room. At that point, Abby starts screaming because she wants Jack to be quiet. Attempting to explain the situation to a two-year old hasn't even occurred to me ... until today.

I decided to recruit Abby.

I walked in after the second attempt to put Jack down and I told her that he is only crying because I leave and that he would stop quickly as long as she didn't start crying.

I then told her that she would be a great big sister if she would help Jack fall asleep by reading him a book or singing him a song.

I left the room again. Jack screamed.

I started walking down the stairs and heard Abby's up-and-down inflection of telling a story.

I tiptoed back up the stairs and listened at the door. I couldn't make out what Abby was saying, but she was clearly "reading". Then I hear Jack let out a delighted giggle.

Abby then whispers excitedly to herself, "It worked! It worked!"

I was beside myself. Seriously the cutest thing that also showcased Abby's big heart and love for her brother.

Can't fault her matter-of-fact response

I was reading Abby her "Superhero book".

The first page reads, "Who's a superhero? Me! That's who! Do you like to play superhero, too?"

Abby: "No, I don't like to play superhero."

I pause.

"You just like to read about them?"

Abby: "No. I don't like to read about them. I'm reading my book."

Then she went back to reading her "animal book", in which she looked at the page with the skunk and kept saying, "pee ewe, stinky!"

Parenting technique gone awry

On the way there (coat on).

Okay. So, I've been trying my best not to be a dictator and to allow Abby to suffer the consequences of her own choice when she's choosing to be defiant. Let's face it: the kid isn't going to listen once she has her mind made up.

Case in point: Today we went to the Ann Arbor Hands On Museum. We were getting ready to leave and I told Abby it was time to put on her coat.

"NO!"

It was about 40 degrees and windy outside.

"Are you sure? It's really cold."

"NO JACKET! NO!"

Okay fine.

I made up my mind that she would go outside without a coat and - once she determined she was cold and that it was a silly decision to defy me - she would ask me to put it on and a good lesson would be learned.

So Tom, Abby, Jack and I walked outside, the kids in the stroller.

I waited.

Nothing.

We walked a block toward the parking structure. Wind howling.

Nothing.

I looked at Tom with my eyebrows raised and finally mouthed, "Has she said anything?"

He shook his head.

We continued to the structure and not a peep from Abby. People walked by us with a look on their faces I would probably give other parents whose child wasn't wearing a coat in 40-degree weather.

We ended up making it all the way to the car and she never even mentioned being cold.

The little stinker.

Conclusion: Abby is either the smartest and most manipulative child in the history of the world ... or she is cold-blooded.