Good Questions

My oldest son is in the questioning phase. He questions everything. Who, what, when, where, why how. All day long. Over and over. While I do love his inquisitive nature, it does tend to wear a person down.
Lately everything he learned in school turns into a web quest when he gets home. Most recently we have been researching Andy Warhol because he learned about him in art class.
"Is Andy Warhol dead?"  Answer: Yes
"When did Andy Warhol die?"  Answer: 1987
"How old was Andy Warhol when he died?"  Answer 58
"How old was Andy Warhol when mamaw was born?" Answer: 24

And George Washington. How old was George Washington when he died? Who were George Washington's parents? Why was he president?

And he's obsessed with my friend's teenaged son.  Is Mitchell a young adult or an adult? Does he still live with his parents? Is he going to be taller than his dad? Am I going to be taller than you? How much did Mitchell weigh when he was born? How much did I weigh when I was born? Am I going to be taller than Mitchell?

 I do my best to answer all the questions truthfully, to research what I don't know, or just tell him that some things are unknowable, like when his grandparents are going to die and why.  Sometimes I keep my cool, sometimes I lose it, sometimes I just ask him to tell me what I told him the last time he asked me the very same question. It never ends, really. It's what kids do, and I try to encourage questioning even when it makes me crazy.

But I credit one of his crazy questioning obsessions with saving my marriage. Well, I shouldn't say saving, since my marriage has never been in real danger, but it has definitely had a noticeable effect on our marriage. Lately my son wants to know all about the story of 'us', the story of his father and me.

"When did you meet my dad?"
"Where did you meet my dad?"
"Why do you love my dad?"
"Do you think my dad is handsome?"
"Why did you pick my dad?"
"Why did you and dad have me?"
And on and on and on...

And I answer every question, every time he asks, over and over. And because of this I get to fall in love with my husband over and over again, every day, and it's magical.

Raising a family is hard work. "Happily ever after" doesn't just happen, it's hard, and there are days I just want to quit and run screaming for the hills. Juggling kids and work, paying bills, scratchin' and survivin'...

(I used to love that show, but I digress...)

Raising a family is not easy even in the best of circumstances, but it helps to be reminded on the daily of why the family exists in the first place.

So, to my son... When did I meet your dad? When I had given up all hope of ever finding love and resigned myself to spinsterhood.
Do I think your dad is handsome? Oh, yes! Yes I do! And I love it that you look just like him.
Why did I pick your dad?  Because he used the word denouement in a sentence correctly.  (Those who know me and my Lemony Snicket obsession will understand this.  It was like a neon sign from God that I was to take this man home and love him.)
Why do I love your dad?  Because he is the kindest, most thoughtful person I know. He is always thinking of others, he genuinely loves people, and he makes me laugh every day.
Why did we decide to have you? Because we are silly and impulsive, and we thought it would be fun. And we were right!

I honestly feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

If you don't happen to have an inquisitive child handy to remind you of all the wonderful qualities your significant other possesses, I suggest just going there yourself. Focus on the qualities that drew you to that person in the first place. Fall in love with them all over again. Stoke the fire, as they say.

So to my husband, I love you and our 'good times'. Ain't we lucky we got 'em...