We are deep in the “Whyyy?” phase of childhood development in the Gomberg household. Our little three-nager, Harvey, is becoming as verbose as he’s always been curious, and the combination makes for a humbling experience as a parent. He understands words and wants us to use them (sometimes ad nauseum) to explain the world. It makes total sense.
So, why is it humbling? For three reasons.
The first of which is that I realize my stamina for serial whys is shorter than is required by my inquisitive kidlet, and that’s a little embarrassing. Come on, Gomberg, parenthood is about sharing knowledge and life experience. Get a grip.
“You have to eat dinner before you can have dessert, bud.”
“Why?”
“Because dinner is what will help you be healthy and strong.”
“Why?”
“Because nutrients are what fuel your body to grow and heal, just like sleep.”
“Why?”
“The healthy food you put in your body is used as energy and becomes your big muscles.” (Don’t say it, don’t say it…)
“Why?”
By “why” No. 5, my patience wears thin and I just want to resort to, “Because that’s how it works. Now, eat some dinner.” But the whys aren’t a sprint, they’re a marathon, and I’ve got to put in more miles (thank goodness for my mini but mighty trainer).
The second reason is that it illuminates how much I don’t know. Why ARE sunsets colorful? Is it pollution? Bending light? Atmospheric pressure? A painter in the sky? Why don’t I know this? (The answer: Painter in the sky. Who knew?!)
And the final reason is the humdinger for me, because I can practice patience and I can operate Google like a boss, but how, on the spot, are you supposed to synthesize complex ideas in a way that makes sense to a person who’s lived as many years as you have lived decades? This is the part that makes getting to the end of any given series of whys a hero’s journey.
Now, there are times when the whys seem just to be his way of carrying on the conversation. He wants attention more than answers, and like the subtle differences in a baby’s cries that distinguish hunger from a poopy bum, I can tell when he just wants to chat. In those moments, I can return the question, “Why do you think?” and he’s happy as a clam to keep talking.
But other times, he’s hungry for understanding, and I want to feed his curiosity. Except, how does one explain at, say, 2 a.m. when your child is terrified that the pink hug-seeking backpack he seemed to be dreaming about is not going to come back for more unwanted embraces? Try explaining dreams (especially while partially still in one) to someone whose grasp of intangible ideas is loose at best.
I’ll tell you that, “your brain just made up that story to entertain you while you’re sleeping” didn’t cut it.
Sometimes I find myself resorting to distraction or, dare I say, fibs.
To the why about dreams, I think I mustered a, “Look, your Buzz Lightyear stuffy’s eyes are always open. He’s staying awake to protect you. You can go back to sleep.”
That one was pretty innocuous, but he’s a super sponge, and I don’t want to mislead him too much. So, the other day, he asked why the sun goes to bed so early in the fall, and I ended up going full-on science mom with him.
“Because in some seasons, our days are longer.”
“Why?”
“Because the earth travels around the sun once each year, and when we’re closer to the sun, we get to see it more each day.”
“Why?”
“Because our planet rotates on an axis, kiddo. That means it’s tilted.”
“Why?”
“Because gravity is a miraculous force pulling us that way.”
And to that, I finally got an, “Oh,” as if then it all made sense.
Which to me, trying to find satisfactory answers to sate his almost endless curiosity, makes hardly any.
So, while I’m not sure how we’ll gracefully endure this cute albeit challenging phase of life, I do know why.
Marina Gomberg
Marina Gomberg is a communications professional and lives in Salt Lake City with her wife, Elenor Gomberg, and their son, Harvey. You can reach Marina at mgomberg@sltrib.com.
