November 21 18

I used to whine write, often, about the BUT WHY stage of parenting and the lack of quiet in my life.

But why is Caillou bald? But why do I have to wear pants? But why do we say that the sky is blue when it’s really just gray-ish white? But why can’t I use a hot glue gun in bed? But why does the sun make me sneeze? But why do you have a white eyebrow? But why do you cry when you’re happy? But why am I right handed? But why can’t I just eat cookie dough instead of other food? But why do I need to have two eyes? 

I once read an article, apparently written by experts, which concluded that curious children ask 73 questions a day. My young children were gold medalists in the but why olympics and typically asked 73 questions before they even got out of bed in the morning.

They were noisemakers. It’s not their fault, really. They got their daddy’s eye color and his warm weather skin tone — in winter they are decidedly colored just like their mama, a precious shade of fettuccini alfredo — so it makes perfect sense that they’d get his uncanny ability for constant noisemaking as well.

“One day you’ll miss it,” they said

“One day they’ll be teenagers and will spend all their time in their rooms and will never talk to you and you’ll beg them to tell you something, anything,” they said.

“One day it’ll be so quiet in your house you won’t even know what to do with yourself,” they said.

Whoever THEY are, they seriously underestimated the over-achievers in this house.

Because Emily is 17, and she’s never quiet. She just spent the last 20 minutes describing her Orange Theory workout in full move-by-move detail. Because Joshua is 16, and he’s never quiet. He just told me this very important story about the funniest video he watched today of some heavily German-accented guy talking about John Elway — it’s always football-related — and Seinfeld and The Neverending Story. Because Isabella is 13, and she’s never quiet. She just needed to show me a hilarious photo that she and her friends took at school and wanted to talk to me about her Hebrew presentation and her math test.

Listen, I know how lucky I am. I know that teenage noisemakers are the exception and not the rule.

I know that it’s a gift that Emily will still crawl into bed with me at night to chat about The Greatest Showman Reimagined and the Hallmark Christmas movies that we love.

I know that having to listen to every football fact that ever existed is something to be treasured because he’s sixteen and he’s talking to me and telling me things that he cares about and making me listen to all of this hip hop music that I really do not understand.

I know that Isabella wanting to take constant selfies with me and sharing her 8th grade friend frustrations is rare; the fact that she comes to me for advice — and listens to that advice — is special.

 

{Lest you walk away from this post thinking that my children are some sort of freaks of teenage nature, I want you to know that I’m currently googling clothing donation charities to donate three giant piles of clean laundry that I cannot get my children to put away. Also, this morning I had to ask Isabella to leave the room because she couldn’t stop yelling at every member of our family. Also, there’s a curious case of *someone* taking too many ubers. Also one of my children keeps telling me that he’s doing No-shave November but really he’s just so damn lazy that I cannot get him to shave his face unless I get his dad to forcibly pin him down so now we can’t walk buy him without telling him that we’re voting for Pedro.}

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I know that having nightly musical theater dance parties is not something many teenagers want to do with their moms.

Gift. Treasure. Special.

 

BUT.

Sometimes at the end of a long day of photoshoots and editing and job interviews and grocery shopping and entertaining and homework helping and signing permission forms and laundry and doing the dishes and carpools and filling out high school applications, I just want to sit down and not just watch this one youtube video of this lady tasting weird food or talk about whether or not I think Emily has asthma or about this poor kid at school who fainted during his business presentation or about the drama between Jordan and Aaron Rodgers or take a quiz to find out which Disney princess’s food I’d enjoy the eating the most {It’s Tiana’s beignets, fyi}. 

Someday I’ll miss it, I’m sure.

They told me that I will.

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