May 29, 2013

These pics are from a few weeks ago, but I didn't take any today.  Levi and I had a date morning a few Saturdays ago because he upheld his end of a bargain: wear a life jacket at swimming lessons without crying, and he could pick something fun to do as a prize.  He came up with going to Tip Toes to visit "Skunky" in the tree house.  Well, he totally owned it at swimming lessons.  So the following Saturday we picked up snacks at JP's and then he got to play and shop at Tip Toes. :)

He is at a stage right now where he asks the same question over...and over...and over and over andoverandoverandoverandover.  Very simple questions: "Where's Papa?"  Levi, you know where he is, you tell me.  "No, MUH-maaaaaa tell me."  He's at work.   "..............Where's Papa?"

Over and over and over.

So this morning we're out for a walk and, again, his sweet nonstop chatter is infused with questions, questions, questions, repeated questions. (Meanwhile, Luke just pulls up the strap from the stroller harness and sucks on it for two miles. Not a sound from him.)  "Where's the toy car, mama?"  I don't know, they probably put it away.  "Where's the toy car, mama?"  They probably put it away.  "Where's the toy car, mama?  Levi, it's probably in their garage.  "Where's the toy car, mama?"  Levi, I am not answering that question again. Stop asking it.  "Where the toy car, mama?"  *Silence*  "Where's the toy car, mama?"  LEVI DO NOT ASK ME ANY MORE QUESTIONS.

We cross Central Avenue and I point out the emergency siren that we hear on the first Friday of the month at noon.  Oh boy.  He wants to know what's in the big box below the siren (the power supply to the siren, I imagine?).  "What's in that box, mama?"  I am so at my wit's end with answering questions that I didn't even want to speculate. I said I don't know.

"What's in that box, mama?"  I don't know.
"What's in that box, mama?" I don't know.

THREE HOURS. He asked me about that box for three hours.

I'm making his lunch.  "What's in that box, mama?"

(Mother of the Year moment coming up!!!)

Levi, that box if filled with little boys who won't stop asking the same question over and over and over again.  And when they're hungry, their mamas throw peanut butter and jelly sandwiches up to the box.

Big blue eyes.

Quivering chin.

"Mama, don't put me in that box."

"Mama, don't put me in that box."

"Mama, don't put me in that box."

Guess I'll go back to fielding the questions.