My Brain Hurts.

I was really smart back in college.

Seriously.  I look at old college notebooks and think, "Wow.  I used to know all this stuff."

One of the classes that I took was an Elementary Mathematics course.  Sounds like cake, right?  It was one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life.  The bulk of the course addressed mathematical proofs, deductive arguments for mathematical statements.  For example, do two even numbers always add up to an even number?  If so, PROVE IT.  Oh, and you're not allowed to use numbers.  It's breaking concrete concepts into their simplest abstract terms, in which "simplest" involved a couple reams of paper.  It was awful.  I don't miss college at ALL.

I live with a three year old.  And with that being said, some days I feel like I'm living in that math class.  I wish I could record five minutes of my life.  (Parents of three-year-olds already know how this video would play out.)  In that five minutes, you would hear every form of question possible....twice:  Who, what, when, where, how, could I, may I, can we, will we, are there, why, Why, WHYYY??! 

The constant barrage of questions (cute, at first, then progressively painful) has me on my toes ALL DAY.  My goal with every answer: to minimize the amount of follow-up questions that are sure to follow.  I've learned from the early days of this curiosity surfacing that ONE question can become a twenty-minute conversation.  So, when the questions come, my brain attempts to quickly process the simplest and most concrete answer possible.  I've patted myself on the back a few times, thinking there is NO POSSIBLE WAY she could ask another question after THAT brilliant answer.  Wrong.  To a three-year-old dead-set on asking a question, ANY question, "WHY?" will always work. 

Kendall and Carter were particularly unruly yesterday, so I did what any Mom-on-the-fringe would do:  strapped them into their carseats and headed to Starbucks.  As expected, I got my ten minute break from their sibling harassment.  What I didn't expect was ten SOLID MINUTES of questions from the backseat.  After receiving my coffee from the barista in the drive-thru, the questions continued. 
"Mommy, why did the man not say hi to me?" "He was busy, honey."
"Oh, but did he see me?" "I don't think so."
"Mommy, why couldn't he see me?" "He was helping other people, sweetie."
(See how polite and patient I'm being??)
"Oh.  But are the other people getting coffee?"
"Yes, this is a coffee store."
"Mommy, why are we going this way?"
"Because this is the way home, Kendall."
"Oh.  But why are we going home?"
 (Beware:  Mommy loses her cool here...)
"KENDALL!!  STOP ASKING MOMMY QUESTIONS PLEASE!"

"Oh.  But, why?"
"Why Mommy?  Why do you want me to stop asking you questions?"

Face-palm.