And why it’s a necessary step in child development that should be cherished.
It’s finally happened. Maggie has entered the “why” stage. Almost everything we say or do in front of her prompts a “why” response, so much so that it’s become like this little dance we do together.
“Maggie, let me tie your shoes.”
“Why?”
“So you don’t trip.”
Or
“Maggie, please don’t go near the stove. It’s hot.”
“Why?”
“So you don’t burn yourself.”
Or
“We have to stop at the grocery store today.”
“Why?”
“So we have some food to eat at home.”
“Why?”
“So we don’t starve.”
“Why …”
You get the idea. Some days it drives me insane. Other days, I find myself paying close attention to the types of “whys” she asks and also to my responses. Maggie is almost three years old. She’s at an age when she’s a sponge, soaking up the sights, sounds, tastes, touches and information that are spilling about, all around her. Right now, the “why” questions are simple and for the most part, understandable.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d also be curious about why cows eat grass or why sticking a Q-tip up my nose isn’t the best idea or why I couldn’t have ice cream for dinner. But as Maggie gets older, I know that the “why” questions will grow and evolve right along with her. She’ll start asking deep questions, questions that will require in-depth explanations instead of simple, short answers.
Maggie and I were at the playground the other day. She asked one of her “why” questions and the answer “because” was on the tip of my tongue. I flashed forward to 10 years from now, and pictured Maggie asking a different kind of question—one that involved racism or politics or sexuality or transgender issues or bigotry. I looked at her at the top of the slide and marveled at her innocence.
I know that I don’t have all the answers. But as a parent, I’ll be the first person my daughter goes to when she’s seeking them. The best I can hope for is to give her an honest explanation, one that isn’t biased or hurried or cliché, and let her contemplate the rest. Right now though, I can take the time to appreciate all of the innocent “why” questions that come my way, because I know they won’t last forever.
This morning before I dropped her off at preschool, Maggie asked me why she could still see the moon through the clouds. I told her the moon hadn’t gone to sleep yet and it was still awake.
“Why?” she asked. And I smiled.