Why is it that… ?


Why is it that whenever I rally in the morning in an attempt to get two kids out the door and go somewhere Vivian decides to take a monster nap, thus holding up the show, yet if we have no place to go she wakes up after an hour?

Why is it that if I turn my back in the Target check-out line for a half a second Lance will unwrap a pack of Rolos and start eating them on the spot?

Why is it that Lance manages to keep his play clothes clean, but the minute I put on a brand new pair of pants he face-plants in the yard 30 seconds after I put them on and gets grass stains on the knees?

Why is it that on mornings when I want to go running before anyone wakes up (God forbid I get one solitary moment) somehow both kids wake up freakishly earlier than any other day?

Why is it that whenever I pack all the things Lance asks for in his lunch – peanut butter, cucumbers, yogurt, blueberries, etc – for a park play date that he will immediately want none of it upon arrival and only beg to eat what his friends are eating?

Why is it that most of these questions are about Lance?

Oh wait, I know the answer to this one. Because he asks “Why?” in response to everything I say these days, which in turn has polluted my mind and caused me to generate my own set of “why’s”. All of the above questions are basically like the beginning of a long list of Murphy’s Law parenting questions.

Look, here’s another.

Why is it that a cheap toy Lance has not touched in months suddenly becomes the Rolls Royce of toys the minute a friend decides it’s interesting?

Why ask why?

Try Bud Dry!

(Oh whoops, that was just a beer commercial from the 90’s, but I had to throw it in there).

Ok, now that I got my “why’s” out of the way. Let me give you an example of a typical “why” conversation that occurs several times a day between Lance & I. The other day I think we got up to 14 “why’s” in one setting.

Our conversation went like this:

Come on Lance, follow Mommy.

Why?

Because it’s time to go.

Why?

Why because Papa has to go back to work.

Why?

So he can earn money.

Why?

So we can buy bread and milk.

Why?

So we don’t starve.

(Brief lull in the conversation).

Come on, let’s go out this door.

Why?

Because it leads to the parking lot.

Why?

Because that’s the way the building is designed, and that is where our car is parked.

Why?

Because cars park in parking lot’s.

Why?

(No response from me. I have no more answers on this topic).

Come buddy, hop up in your seat while I get Vivian buckled first.

Why?

Because I don’t want you to run away while I am buckling Vivian.

Why?

Because I would miss you.

Why?

Because I love you.

(Pause as I go to his side of the car).

Ok, your turn. Arms through the straps (snap, snap, snap).

(Pause while I get in the car and turn on the ignition).

Mommy’s going to turn on the radio now.

Why?

(Music fade in. “Why’s” fade out.)

End of conversation until the next round of “why’s”.

So. Here we are again.

Why is it that I felt the need to ask all of these “Why is it that… ?” questions and then provide dialogue between my two-and-a-half year old and me?

I have an answer. Because, right now, this is my gig this life. This is a true depiction of how life flows in my home. This is also a true sample of some of the thoughts floating around in the head (mine) of a writing crazed stay-at-home-Mama (me).

Ain’t life grand?

Indeed, yes, life is grand.

IMG_3546

Trying to beat the dog days of summer.

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Mr. Why helping Mommy feed Viv.

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The toes are still tasty to this little lady.

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The new Sheriff in town.

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Reading in robes.

IMG_3697

Bubble fest 2013.

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Look who can sit up now!

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The end of the baby swing era for Lance and the beginning for Vivian.

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New face. We call this one “crazy face.”

Make each day better than the last, Friends!

Why?

Because I said so!

(The real answer to all those why’s?).

xo,

The Banter Lady

About britta326

blogger, picture-taker, diaper-changer, runner

4 thoughts on “Why is it that… ?

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