Posted on | January 7, 2015 | 1 Comment
You know how they say that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again but expecting different results? Yeah… I’m pretty sure whoever coined that phrase was a parent and what they meant was, quite simply, that parents are insane.
Because I find myself daily in situations where I’m asking the same questions over and over again, despite the fact that I KNOW what my child’s answer is going to be and I’m not going to like it.
Questions like “Why did you pour a cup of bathwater onto the floor?” and “Okay WHY did you think that was a good idea?”
It seems these days that every single question I ask garners the exact same response:
I. Don’t. Know. Followed by the equally vague and annoying “I just did.”
Seriously. I’m beginning to wonder if my child knows anything about anything at all because I can’t get anything out of him other than those three words, which, let’s face it, can be seriously annoying.
Because clearly he knows why he chose to leave his underwear in the middle of the living room floor. CLEARLY he’s aware of some reason why he made the choice to spit out the portion of his dinner he didn’t want and then leave it ON THE TABLE. I’m sure he had some reason to pull all the sheets off all the beds and leave them in a pile on the floor, right? Because something sparked that. Something in his brain triggered the action and God knows it wasn’t just… magic.
Yesterday was J’s first karate class and he was, well, ridiculously adorable in his little uniform. He paid close attention and then told me in the car that he loved it and couldn’t wait to go back. When we got home, I went to run a load of laundry. When I came back in the living room, he looked up at me and announced:
“Mom, I had to use the kick I learned in karate on Riley.”
Did you hear my head explode? Because my kid. Used. A. Karate. Kick. On. Our. Dog.
“I don’t know.”
So we had a little heart to heart about not knowing why you hurt an animal. And I explained to him that if he kicks her again and she bites him, even if she rips a hole in his little face, I. Will. Not. Punish. Riley. He seemed to understand but then he asked me why I would let her hurt him, even if he hurt her. I thought about explaining to him that Riley has feelings just like he does. I thought about going into all the reasons it’s wrong to hurt a dog, but ultimately, I believe my son is smart enough to KNOW all of that. So I decided to give him a taste of his own medicine.
“I don’t know. I just would.”
I think I’ll just use that as my response for everything now. Maybe then he’ll start to explain himself.