Guest Blogger: The Turnip Farmer

Kelly and I have been friends for quite some time. I think we met before we even became pregnant with our first babies {or right around the same time, at least} and she has been a great friend ever since. She's hilarious, witty and one of the best people I know. I even got the chance to room with her at BlogHer, which I think made us even closer than ever before.

She's one of the first people I go to if I have news, or if I just need someone to talk too and she always makes me feel better {thank you for that, Kel!}

Enjoy this hilarious post {that I think we can all relate too} and don't forget to check out Kelly's blog: The Turnip Farmer.

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Surviving the Quiz Master

My daughter is trying to push me to the brink. I’m usually already halfway there - so she doesn't need to push hard. But god help me, she is going to shove me over the edge and throw hives of raging hornets at me on the way down. She is out to destroy me. I can see it in her eyes.

Don't be fooled by this sweet face.

She is working on a diabolical plan in that big ol' head and I am target numero uno.

What I am talking about are the questions. The incessant, mind numbing, repetitive and ridiculous questions. Every day is ground hog day with a barrage of familiar rapid fire questions aimed right at the soft spot in my brain. Every day it’s like I am trapped on the worst quiz show ever. Where are we going? Are you going left? Why didn’t you go left? Is that light green? What does green mean? Green means go, right mommy? Are we going to daycare? Are you going to work? Can I watch Dora? Where are we going? Can I take off my shoes?

This is every day on the way to daycare. A five minute ride is turned into the ultimate test of patience. When she gets going, she takes me to a level of hell that I had never before experienced. For example on our recent vacation, a road trip to Canada – a seven hour trip…each way – the questions were relentless. And it wasn’t even the questioning, it was the lack of variety. I was on a quiz show that I couldn’t win.

Izzy: Are we going on a trip?

Me: yup, we are on it. We’re going to Canada

Izzy: Are we on the trip?

Me: yes

Izzy: NO WE NOT! Where is the trip?

Me: we are on it.

Izzy: Can my baby come on the trip?

Me: sure.

Izzy: don’t say sure! Mommy you’s supposed to say ‘yes!’. Say YES mommy.

Me: Ye—

Izzy: are we going on a trip? Can I get out now? Can I take off my shoes? Are we going on a trip?

Me: ::FML. Six more hours of this shit? The Husband better not go any slower than 55mph or I am jumping the eff out::

.....Pause......

Izzy: Are we going on a trip?

That was the point at which I jumped out of the car. I think it was right around Syracuse. I don’t really remember with the concussion and all.

I know this is a completely normal part of development for her age. And hell, with the number of questions she’s asking, she might just be advanced. But what developmental stage is this for me, the mother? What exactly is it supposed to teach me? I’ve done every motherhood stage:

-The ‘up all night and survive’ maternity leave stage

o To this day I am still in awe of how little sleep I can run on. My husband on the other hand…well, the little prince needs his beauty rest. I learned that coffee is and always will be the ultimate BFF.

- The ‘up all night, survive, and not get fired from your job because you frequently fall asleep at your desk’ stage

o In addition to what I learned above, I also learned that 8 hours of work is really 16. I need to talk to someone about adjusting my paycheck.

- The ‘oh my god my I’m just like my mom’ phase

o ::SHUDDER:: That is all.

- The ‘for god sake keep your clothes on in public!’ stage

o I learned that naked is great fun and everyone should run around nude when they can. Of course the fun ends when your toddler discovers that boys and girls have different parts and that some of their parts have ummm….shrubbery…and they start asking questions.

- The ever favorite potty training and the ‘No you don’t need to go again’ public bathroom exploration phase

o I’ve learned the true value of that 6 gallon bucket of hand sanitizer that my husband bought at BJ’s. Seriously y’all, if you are gonna hover, at least wipe up after yourself. Do you realize how time consuming it is to make a pee-pee tent for a toddler? I don’t even want to talk about port-o-potties.

But for all the torturous, mind melting, stages we’ve been through, this is by far the worst. I hereby dub it ‘Surviving the Quizmaster’. I have no idea what the lesson is other than how do I A.) not kill myself B.) keep myself from pulling off my own ears or C.) not kill myself.

And just when I thought this phase should pass soon, someone was kind enough to inform me that their 7 and 10 year olds are the exact same way.

I am currently reviewing options A, B and C again to resolve this issue.

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What did I tell ya? HI-larious.

Thanks again Kel!

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