(FYI: This one’s going to have a lot of pictures. Not that I’m apologising. My boys are cute.)
Questions are a beautiful thing. Whenever I think of someone asking a question I always think of that old clichéd phrase ‘no question is a stupid question.’ This has always been our mantra with the boys – they can ask us whatever they want, whenever they want.
My husband, Ash, is an avid questioner.
Whether meeting someone for the first time, filling in awkward silences, or having a political debate, a question is always on the tip of his tongue. It’s a running joke with friends, church folk, family, and work colleagues; he lurves a good question.
This week we found out that someone else enjoys a good question or two as well …
Last week Ash, the boys and I were away in Derbyshire on something called a ‘Discovery Break’, volunteering for Ash’s work, Christians Against Poverty (CAP) in order to serve and bless their clients. (Check out their website; it’s inspiring, agenda-less, (com)passion-filled work, all done on the sole basis of helping individuals and families become free from the bondage of debt. www.capuk.org)
Whilst there we had a wonderful time, the boys especially – NOAH especially. He adored it.
Now, a lot of the time (for the boys and I) was spent in the creche. And I don’t care what anyone says, creche’s are horrible (generally speaking). Children cry and scream and snot and yell; the adults come pretty close. Let’s face it, everyone who is in the creche wants to get back out of it – pronto!
Still, it wasn’t so bad. Noah adopted a phone that he wanted to bring home with him and Babu investigated various ways in which to stop yourself choking on a pen lid. Results still to be determined.
Anyway, when we weren’t in the creche we went exploring. We found some cows and sheep in nearby fields and investigated the lake (more of a pond if you ask me, but to-may-to, to-ma-to.) I felt kind of bad after we’d stood watching a particularly rotund sheep for a few minutes, noticed it’s tummy wobbling and professed ‘Look boys, that’s a mummy sheep; she’s got a baby in her tummy!’ only for Ash to point out a few seconds later that for a lady sheep it had exceptionally large testicles. The tummy movement must have been gas. Whoops. Still, you’re thinking, the cows must have been better? Well, not really. No sooner had we pottered over to say hello, the cow nearest to us turned it’s back and did a giant whizz right in front of us. Ash and I burst out laughing as Noah shouted ‘Look, look, Bow doing a wee wee!’ watched until it had stopped and continued, ‘It finished! Well done Bow!’ My boy’s an encourager. Great quality.
And as I mentioned before, he’s developing another great quality too.
At the beginning of our drive there (in order to use the magical power of a cookie to keep the boys quiet) we stopped at Starbucks (grabbing a coffee to keep us happy too). While I popped out to grab the necessities, Ash decided to speak to the boys about our ‘holiday’. Noah instantly asked, ‘Daddy, what is holiday?’ Ash, stunned, explained that we were going to Derbyshire. ‘Daddy, what is Derbyshire?’ This was followed by a Google search of images on Ash’s iPad and a mini presentation of what Derbyshire looks like. Noah’s response? ‘Wow!’
And it didn’t stop there. Over the next few days we were met with many questions. Here’s just a random selection:
‘Mummy, daddy, what is mummy and daddy?’
‘What is baby, mummy?’
‘What making babies, mummy?’
‘What is night, daddy?’
‘What is dark, daddy?’
‘What bed time, mummy?’
‘Mummy, daddy, what is made?’
‘Daddy, what is animals?
It’s incredibly cute. And a little unnerving. It’s like he’s a teenager already; without the acne. Since when is ‘what is making babies?’ a normal question for a two year old to ask?
At least the animal question made sense (there was a Tropical Experience evening.) Noah used to have an intense fear of all animals. It was extremely strange given that he’d never had a bad experience with one. On this break we realised that this is no longer the case. In fact, entirely the opposite. He is now obsessed with animals. He cried if he didn’t get to touch one. He stayed up until well past 9pm in order to hold a parrot. It was very sweet. He stroked a spider, hugged a baby python, tickled a turtle and held the parrot, tootled over to get his blanket, climbed into his pushchair, stuck his thumb in his mouth and went to sleep.
Since when were children so brave? I remember being terrified of a lot of things when I was younger. Most powerfully of heights. I used to walk around the shopping mall with my back pressed against the shop windows in order for me not to be anywhere near the banister and fall to my screamy, splatty death.
Noah it seems however, has no fear of this either. We found this out when visiting a theme park whilst away. Roller-coasters, Cable cars, Ferris Wheels – no fear. I on the other hand? Well, let’s just say I’m not quite over it.
Still, it’s a comfort to know my little men aren’t afraid of anything, least of all questioning the world around them. I just hope they don’t turn into stuntmen or dare devils. I couldn’t take the stress. Journalist I could handle. Just about.
“Mummy, what is blog?”