I saw Mommy…

photo courtesy of the internet (that means I didn't take it).

photo courtesy of the internet (that means I didn’t take it).

I knew it was coming. When he was little, I could get away with playing any kind of music and there were no questions or even mimicking of lyrics, he would just listen and take it all in. Every once in a while I would play some rock music and I would notice a certain perkiness in his demeanor. He loved the loud guitars and the beating drums – his father beamed with delight. Last week, I put on a classic rock song on purpose just to see his little eyes come in to focus. I peered into the rear view mirror to steal a glance at his very serious face and chuckled to myself as it became even more serious as I knew he was studying the music quietly to himself. And when his eyes met mine in the rear view mirror and he saw that I caught him enjoying every last bit of rowdiness, he gave me a sly smile that broadened and then he looked out the window and said “Mooooom!” When the song finally came to an end, I checked me rear view again and saw complete head bopping and cool-face making out of my five year-old who was thoroughly enjoying the “trash can” ending of whatever song it was that we were listening to…pure mommy-moment bliss.

But the lyrics of rock songs for a five year-old often lack annunciation and usually it’s the music he is into not necessarily the words (that goodness for that). Yesterday marked the fourth official day of listening to Christmas music in our family. I love Christmas music and started listening early this year because it is a great distraction for my little one in the car and I get a bit respite from having to listen to “Milo and Otis” on repeat for days. Any who…my daughter absolutely loves it. She loves the words and the perky music. My son tolerates it, although he has a good time watching his little sister turn into a total goofball during the Muppets/John Denver version of “Twelve Days of Christmas.”

But then it happened. The one song that I absolutely KNEW my son would have a million questions about came on. I contemplated skipping it, but the first line had already come out before I had a chance to hit the button. And so, there I was caught in a conversation that I knew I would need to babble and stammer my way through. It went something like this:

SON: Mom, did he say that the Mommy was kissing Santa Claus?

ME: Um, yes…he…um…yes he did.

SON: Oh…why would a Mommy be kissing Santa Claus?

ME: Well, that’s a great question (I always lead with that…it buys me time). I am not sure. It’s just a song (Mom of the year answer).

SON: silence…Well, isn’t Santa Claus old?

ME: Well, yes. He is an older gentleman (seriously?).

SON: That’s just weird. Why would a Mommy want to be kissing an old man? Why would she kiss Santa Claus? Isn’t he already married to Mrs. Santa Claus? I don’t think she is going to get any presents because you are not supposed to be awake when Santa comes to your house.

ME: under my breath…Oy Vey (we’re not Jewish, or from New York…I was out of my element). Well, you’ve got that right!

So what’s the big deal? Just answer the question, you say? Well, actually, the problem is that I have a problem of answering questions too literally and too honestly most of the time. For instance, one time he asked me why some clouds were white and some were dark. No biggie, right? Well, Mrs. Diarrhea of the Mouth launched into some explanation of cumulonimbus, evaporation, hot and cold fronts that produce different kinds of weather and different kinds of clouds and kept right on talking until I was interrupted by my little inquisitor “oh. Can you jump on the white puffy ones?” He was three at the time and I learned that maybe I should just keep it short and sweet from here on out. Imagine my explanation about Santa Claus (who we still believe in), the young mother who is married and who is now kissing an older guy who is also already married except that it isn’t infidelity because it’s actually her own husband dressed up as Santa Claus but why in the world would a dad dress up as Santa Claus when Santa Claus lives in the North Pole, and…well you can see why I just kept my mouth shut.

But I just love this kid who will always have a thousand questions. I love his inquisitive mind and his quest for information. He is smart and figures out the logical path in every situation right away and then asks a thousand questions and I love that about him. I am pretty sure I am never going to be able to keep up and that I will always babble and stammer when he comes to me with a logical question that needs answering, but I know that God will use this in him and that he has a big purpose in his life that will involve the need to ask a thousand questions. I just hope to encourage that in him daily and keep my frustration in check when the questions come at me in rapid succession as they most frequently do right up until the very last moment when he falls asleep.

What is it that you will encourage in your children today?

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Categories: All The Rest

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