This post by Kelsey got me thinking about tough questions. And how Ohio overreacts to snow alerts. But mostly about tough questions.
Andrew is always full of questions. And answers. But lots and lots of questions. Anything is potential fodder for his questioning mind. Why do I cough? Why do we cover up a cut? Why does that arrow light up in the car when you are turning? Why doesn't Lily have a penis? You get the idea. This constant stream of questioning can be exhausting...and mentally straining. Many concepts are just accepted...I have learned not to question HOW the cold medicine works. I trust that the people who manufactured it know how it works. (which in today's era of recalls...perhaps we should all question like a 4 year old).
Some of Andrew's questions border on the impossible to answer. Like, "How old is God?" Eternity is an awfully tough concept to broach with a pre-schooler. Or, "Do you have to be married to have a baby?" Um.... And sometimes, Andrew just makes a statement that requires further conversation, like, "I'm scared of dying." Now that he is 4, it seems like many of his questions fall under these "tough to answer" categories.
I usually start the response to tough questions with, "What do YOU think?" This gives me a chance to think as well as hear where Andrew is at conceptually. Sometimes it gives you an easy out, if his answer is acceptable enough for a 4 year old.
Today, I keep getting asked a different kind of tough question. See, today is Andrew's 4 year old doctor's appointment. The legendary appointment. The one other parents talk about and shudder. Andrew hasn't had an immunization since he was 2. And today he will get ALL of his boosters. I think that equals 4-5 immunizations.
Today's tough question? "Am I going to have to get a shot?" I just keep changing the subject. Another of my strategies for tough questions.
2 comments:
My 8-year-old has been asking me to make Sophie's Choice type decisions. I tell him I can't possibly decide.
For shots, I use "We'll have to ask the doctor." Let HIM be the bad guy.
Ooooh. That doesn't sound fun.
When I was 4, I had to have a finger nail removed (gross, I know, and even grosser in person). My Dad explaned everything to me, and then said, This is gonna hurt A LOT. And he said, when it really hurts, you say Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Okay? Okay. Somehow it worked. It DID hurt, A LOT. But I knew what my reaction was going to be, and that helped.
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