By Janene Dutt of imightbefunny.com
Let me start by saying that I love my children. More than anything in this world. More than the nirvana of shopping alone at Target, more than Ben & Jerry’s Truffle Kerfuffle, even more than Maggie Smith on Downton Abbey.
BUT. If I hear the word “Mom” just one more time today, I am going to lose my shit.
In fact, I just Googled, “How many questions do kids ask in a day?” because I know I’m not alone here. Are you ready for this? According to a UK study, moms field nearly 300 questions a day from their offspring, making them the most quizzed people around, above even teachers, doctors, and nurses.
Fun fact: Girls aged 4 are the most curious, averaging a question every 1 minute, 56 seconds of their waking day.
No wonder emails go unanswered, laundry piles up, library books expire before they are read, we scramble at the last minute for that birthday gift (please don’t ever leave me, Amazon Prime). We are constantly interrupted during any given task.
As an experiment, I decided to make a list of all the times I heard the word “Mom” followed by a question or comment, for the rest of the day. I grabbed a small notebook like Harriet the Spy and lasted six hours before my hand cramped from all the writing. And in those six hours, I was beckoned ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY NINE times. While I won’t torture you with reading all 159 questions/comments posed to me, here’s a small sampling below:
“Mom, come look at this picture of Miley Cyrus.” (Please let it be the Hannah Montana version of her.)
“Mom, guess how many butt cheeks are in our house?” (Um..does the dog count?)
“Mom, who are you?” (Like, in an existential way?)
“Mom, this kid at school said that one middle finger equals 20 bad words. How is that possible?” (Oh, it’s possible.)
“Mom, I just found a HUMONGOUS house in California and it only costs $14 million dollars.” (Ok, I’ll get right on that purchase, sweetie.)
“Mom, can I put a ghost detector app on your phone?” (I’d kind of rather not know when there’s a ghost near me sooo….no.)
“Mom, I have a super duper secret.” (There should be no secrets from your mother. Ever.)
“Mom, do you want to play catch with me?” (Can’t, because I need a free hand to write down the 29 questions you will ask me while playing.)
“Mom, can I have a timer?”
“Mom, I can run down the hall and back 10 times in 37 seconds. Do you want to try?” (I’m good, thanks.)
“Mom, do I have to get the flu shot tomorrow? Because I’d like another few days to rest in peace before they poke a hole in my arm.”
“Mom, can you tell Ava to leave? I’m trying to watch a show.”
“Mom, have you seen my phone?” (x3)
“Mom, I can’t find my phone.”
“Mom, can I borrow your phone?”
“Mom, she’s bothering me again.”
“Mom, what are you writing?”
“How many questions I’m asked in a day.”
“Why, is it a lot?”
(“Seriously? I’m adding that one.”)
18-year-old daughter (away at college, via text, of course)
“What’s the Amazon password?”
“Could you order me a rx bar variety box?”
“Are Craigslist ads always sketchy?”
“How do I know if it’s legit?”
(Me: “You don’t. Stay off Craigslist.”)
Mind you, I did this experiment on a Sunday and my husband was home the whole time. He is a great, very involved, hands-on dad. But do you know how many questions I heard them ask him during that time? ONE. When I said no to playing catch with my daughter, she asked him to play and he immediately said yes, probably because he wasn’t exhausted from 158 prior questions.
When I sat down to write this, I only had to glance at the kids’ lists to realize something significant. The older they get, the fewer questions they ask. The less they share. The less they actually talk. They have their friends, they have their smarter-than-a-mom phones. I mean, my older kids would never ask me what the population of China is — they would simply Google it. To my little one, I’m still the go-to, the one with all the answers. And I guess that’s a pretty great thing to be.
It’s hard to face the fact that, though my older kids still need me, it’s just not in the same way my younger child does. And someday all too soon my 9-year-old will be my 18-year-old and one morning I’ll wake up and there won’t be anyone left to pepper me with questions all day long. And the thought of that makes me sad.
Sad enough to try harder not to lose my shit when I hear the word “Mom” one too many times in an hour. Because, at the end of the day, let’s face it: kids and their questions are frustrating, maddening, and hilarious.
This post was originally published on imightbefunny.com.
About the Author
Janene Dutt resides on a small island in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and three children. Her hobbies are baking, gardening, and extreme couponing. She suffers from Pediculophobia, the fear of lice. When she’s not blogging, you can find her combing through her family’s hair. Check out her adventures at www.imightbefunny.com.