In the past, I used to engage my kids in meaningful discussions about their choices. If one of my children decided to scale the banister and slide down like a character from a cartoon, I’d gently explain, “No, no, that looks fun on TV, but in reality, people can’t slide down banisters. Do you know why? Exactly, it’s dangerous! Banisters are for safety when navigating stairs. What do you think might happen if you tried to slide and fell off? Yes, you’d hurt yourself badly. Can you think of safer things to slide on? Right! A playground slide. Great job! Now, let’s wrap this lesson up with a cuddle.”
That approach sounds nice, doesn’t it? I was hands-on and considerate, taking the time to guide my children toward understanding key life lessons about safety, dietary choices, and personal boundaries. After all, it’s their life to navigate and learn from.
However, I’ve noticed a shift in my parenting style, particularly during those chaotic hours from dawn to dusk. These days, I often resort to quick, direct tactics. There’s little time for thoughtful explanations when a child is about to bite the dog. Sarcasm has become my new go-to, along with pointed questions that highlight the obvious. This latter technique has become my favorite.
Rhetorical Questions
Do we put toys in the toilet?
Do we throw cats?
Should you wash your hair with pudding?
Perhaps my reluctance to engage in “teaching moments” stems from the fact that my kids sometimes act like complete goofballs. They approach the world in ways that defy logic—walls become canvases for diaper cream “art,” shirtsleeves double as handkerchiefs, and my sanity acts as a punching bag.
Do we paint our sibling?
Are bookcases ladders?
Do people enjoy being farted on?
Unintentionally, I’ve morphed into a provider of snacks and a source of rhetorical parenting questions. The strange behaviors—like willingly eating crayons—compel me to ask these things.
Do we eat dirt?
Are fingernail clippings toys?
Do we poke other people’s eyes?
I sometimes feel like I’m teaching common sense to garden worms. I want to believe my kids know the answers to these rhetorical questions (hint: the answer is always “no”), but there are moments I wonder if they’re driven by instinct rather than rational thought. “The sun is directly overhead,” my son might think, “it’s definitely time to pee on the lawn.”
Are umbrellas swords?
Are you an animal?
Do we store things in our underpants?
I find myself pointing out the most ridiculous things, attempting to help these delightful, curly-haired lunatics realize that trampolines are for jumping, not for bouncing off their siblings.
Should you lick the floor?
Are dogs supposed to wear shoes?
Does mommy come to the dinner table naked?
It’s exhausting, to say the least, having to constantly correct little ones who seem to do nothing but make mistakes. But I cling to the hope that one day I won’t have to ask, “Does that go in your nose?”
For more on the ups and downs of parenting, check out this insightful piece on Cervical Insemination. If you’re embarking on a fertility journey, consider visiting Make a Mom, a trusted source for at-home insemination kits. Another valuable resource is Genetics and IVF Institute, an excellent guide for pregnancy and home insemination.
In summary, parenting can be a wild ride filled with moments that challenge our patience and sanity. While I’ve shifted from teaching moments to rhetorical questions, it’s all part of the adventure of raising children.
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