Why?

I was recently sent a picture on Facebook from a Mom Cavedweller who was shopping and tried on a pair of vixen heels she thought were highly appropriate Cavewear. I had to agree!! And, yet, my Cave is falling apart!! S.O.S.!!!

As I type, my husband is working from home! Gasp!! I have no place of refuge from my chatty homeschooler! What is worse, the monitor on his computer has passed on to that great big computer lab in the sky.

No Cave. No computer. Certainly no vixen heels. Thank Gosh for this phone!!

I just escorted our older son to his bus for his second day back to school after Spring "Break." In the final three days of his vacation, he refused to leave the second floor of our house. He ate only breakfast and spent the day in his room, venturing out to pace in the hallway or attempt to gain access to our attic through various vents.

One would think I would have plenty of time to blog since, for the first time in his life, our older son was actually staying home as opposed to constantly demanding outings by saying, "Car. Car. Car." Yet, I found myself watching his every move, as I always have. I don't know many moms in my position that don't. It is the "why?" that fuels us through the darkest hours and the sleepless nights. It is the fuel that keeps us going. Why is this happening?

Asking "why?" is the first step to answering a need.

As our son gets older, answering the "why?" questions have become more difficult--and they were never easy from the start. His thoughts and needs have progressed beyond his communication skills, and I am often left watching him like a hawk, trying to pick apart every action, every twitch, every sound he makes in order to understand him. And then I have to try not to be obvious about it! Who would want to be scrutinized like that?! I know I sure wouldn't!

The sad thing is that many questions are left unanswered. Why does he like that red vacuum so much? Why does it have to sit in that spot? Why does he make that sound when he walks in front of it. Why does he move his head a certain way when he sit down in front of it?

Those are just curiosities. But what to do in times of need? Why is he crying? Why is he limping? Why won't he eat?

As he ages, my parenting approach becomes more an act of data collecting and theorizing than any other skill. I thought I would face parenting each day with confidence; however, I'm finding more that I approach my kids from a place of "I don't know but I'll figure something out."

I hope that doesn't send them to therapy one day. But, if it does, I'm sure I'll be there right along with them. Perhaps we could get a group rate...