Repetition, Repetition, Repetition

Bill Cosby has this hysterical album that I used to listen to with my dad called "To My Brother Russell, Whom I Slept With". In it he describes two year olds perfectly. He says, "they'll burn your life right out". They do this in two ways: #1 the "do it again" phenomenon. That's when you do something fun or funny (and usually something that makes you exert yourself in some fashion that you immediately regret) and the child's response is... " ha ha ha ha ha... do it again!". #2 is to ask the same question over and over and over again, no matter how many times you reply.

Kids, the above description is currently my life with William. I was just telling a mommy friend of mine, that motherhood is just basically repeating the same thing. Over and over and OVER. This is usually either because a) William isn't listening or b) he keeps asking even though I've answered.

Exhibit A: Mommy is giving William and Elizabeth a bath at the same time. This sucks because Elizabeth is still in the baby tub and William is in the big tub. So I sit right in between the two, alternating scrubbing, playing, drying and dressing so that both kids get clean and stay warm. So as I'm dressing Elizabeth the other night while the water drains from the big tub, I see William attempting to be "a big boy" and climb out by himself. Now life experience has taught me that wet-child+too-short-limbs+climbing-out-of-a-slippery-tub = pain. So I say, "William wait for mommy." Now, he has selective hearing because he can hear me whisper something about his bad behavior to his father from two rooms away (more on this later), but he cannot hear me from less that two feet away. I catch myself saying "William wait for mommy, William WAIT for mommy, WILLIAM WAIT FOR MOMMY!" while he proceeds to slip and bonk his face on the side of the tub. Hysteria ensues and I find myself saying what I say a lot these days "William, LISTEN to mommy when she's talking to you!"

Exhibit B: Mealtime. Now, thanks to some major work by Mike and I, we actually have it pretty easy at mealtime compared to many parents. He sits at the table through the whole meal, doesn't throw fits and isn't allowed to bring toys at the table. HOWEVER, I've discovered that my entire mealtime is full of me saying, "Both hands William." (when he's drinking). "Chew and swallow, William, chew and swallow". "Don't talk with your mouth full". "Both hands, I said." "Silverware is not a toy, you EAT with it, don't play with it." "Chew and swallow." "Smaller bites, William!" "No, the fork is not a light saber." "Both hands William." "No you may not get down, we're eating as a family." "No you can't dip your food in your juice." "Smaller BITES, William, I told you." "Don't play with the spoon, it's not a blaster." "Chew and swallow." "No you are not excused, we're still eating as a family." And so on. I'm telling you, children are the best weight control there is. There is no way to eat too fast and miss fullness signals when you're too busy monitoring a kid who's eating.

Exhibit C: Why? Holy crap, if I hear this question one more time, I'm going to die. Today I pick William up from the sitter and he wants to close his car door himself, but I explain that if he does that, then I can't buckle him into his seat and I have to since he can't do it himself yet.
"Why?" he asks.
"Because the policeman will get mad if you aren't buckled in," I explain.
"Why?"
"Because I have to keep you safe"
"Why?"
"Because it's mommy's job."
"But I want to close my door myself."
"You can't because I have to buckle you in."
"Why?"
"William, stop asking why."
"Why?"
REALLY? IS HE SERIOUS? Needless to say, I just buckled him in and shut the door. At which point a slightly cowed William asks from the backseat "Mommy, you okay?" AAAAGGGHHH!

Exhibit D: Do it again! Motherhood is full of little tricks to make the mundane more interesting... but from time to time, the trick backfires because it's more of a pain in the ass than anything else. For example, William is fully potty-trained, but hates to wash his hands. So one day, after he washes them, I "fly" him off his step stool and swing him around in a circle. BIG ERROR. This produced the "ha ha ha ha ha... do it again" response. Now, I don't mind swinging him every once in a while, but he's 32 pounds of boy and it's not fun to swing that constantly. But he has the memory of an elephant (only when it comes to fun stuff, not to remembering that hitting = time-out) and now every time he washes his hands he asks me to swing him. Crap.

Exhibit F: Wha'd you say? Oh my god, I don't know exactly when William started asking this, but it seems like we hear it ALL DAY EVERY DAY. Now, like I said earlier... when it's useful instruction or discipline, William can't hear me even if I'm shouting in his ear. But Mike and I have discovered that if we try to quietly share a thought about him, make a comment under our breath, mention something while we're in another room... William suddenly has super-ears and responds "Wha'd you say?". The kicker is when you repeat it and he still says, "Wha'd you say". You want to laugh and cry at the same time... especially when this little pattern repeats about 4 times and you finally SHOUT the answer at him. At which point he either says, "don't yell" or "oooooKAY!". Mike and I have discovered that we can no longer talk about people that William knows because he'll invariably follow with "Wha'd you say" and our fear is... the next time he sees them, he'll mention something to the person we were talking about. This has resulted in such stilted conversations as "you know that person we saw the other day, with the kid we don't like? well... it happened again". We feel ridiculous and worst of all, William will still say "Wha'd you say?" In fact, I finally got so frustrated with that question that yesterday I told William, "you cannot ask us that, it's rude. if you cannot hear something we said you are to say, excuse me mommy or daddy, I did not hear you." Now, if you think that's a lot for a kid to remember, you'd be wrong. Tonight at dinner after 3 "Wha'd you says" that we didn't respond to, you could see the light go on and William said, "excuse me mommy... I didn't hear you."

Holy Moly, what next. Bill Cosby... I await your wisdom.