As moms, we all want our kids to grow up and be curious about the world. We put all this work into preparing our offspring as best we can for what the world will throw at them and it is truly awesome when they develop personalities of their own and start to question the world around them.
I am a curious person. I worked for many years as a journalist so of course I love asking people lots of questions and human beings in general are an endless source of fascination for me. So I should have been prepared for one of my own kids to be exactly the same.
I was not prepared, however, for the barrage of questions that came my way on a Sunday evening when I was shattered after what seemed like the longest day ever with an eight, five and almost three year old. After dinner my husband put the youngest two in the bath. I collapsed on the couch, quietly ecstatic that it was almost everyone’s bedtime.
My eight year-old sits next to me and says; “Mom can you tell me everything about your childhood?”
Oh dear lord.
“Everything? Can’t you just ask me a question about it and I’ll answer it. I mean everything would take way too long.”
“But I want to know everything about the olden days, its so interesting!”
Suddenly I feel ancient. Where do I start with this? REALLY? RIGHT NOW?
For some reason I start telling him about the family pets we used to own, what they were like and how each of them eventually died. I tried to remember funny stories. It made me realise how boring my childhood was or how bad my memory is.
I was definitely a child for a good few years yet I only seem to have a few stand-out memories.
I’m guessing consistently binge drinking throughout my twenties has not helped the situation. Nothing like one of your own children to make you realise your memory is shockingly bad. But it also made me think about the fact that we work our asses off to the point of exhaustion to be the best moms that we can be and in years to come will they even remember any of it?
Maybe my memories are few and far between because it was a much simpler time. Me and my siblings and all the kids on our road for that matter did the same thing every day. We played chasing, soccer, rounders, rain, hail or shine we were outside after school and all day long at weekends playing games until it was dinnertime. If everyday is more or less the same then you’re only going to remember the days when something out of the ordinary happened. Like the day somebody broke an arm or a leg, the day you fell off your bike and needed stitches. The day your new baby brother came home from hospital. The day we bought a microwave oven and it was like an alien had landed from outer space. We all stood in the kitchen staring at it. My mom cooked a pizza in it and it only took a few minutes, we were blown away.
Yep, it was the olden days.
As I rambled on suddenly Ryan interrupted me and said; “Mom, what’s insurance?”
INSURANCE? Oh for the love of god. “Okay time for bed, we can talk about insurance another time….” Or maybe never I thought to myself. Having a curious child is a one thing, but talking about insurance or any finance related matter with an eight year-old on a Sunday evening is my idea of hell so lets embrace their curiosity but come on, we all have our limits!