Tuesday night is date night chez Motherese. Last Tuesday, just after I had changed out of my maple syrup and strawberry encrusted t-shirt and shorts, Beloved Babysitter had arrived, and I was headed out the door to meet Husband and some friends for drinks, Big Boy burst out in floods of tears.
Assuming he was sad at the idea of my leaving, I (arrogantly, apparently, and misguidedly) tried to comfort him: “Beloved Babysitter is going to give you and Tiny Baby dinner tonight. Daddy and I will be back soon, Big Boy. I love you.”
Turns out Big Boy wasn’t sad to see me go; he was sad about something much more profound.
“Tiny Baby is going to die someday.”
Woo, boy.
It all began, I suppose, with Big Boy’s fascination with dinosaurs. What started out with one silly board book quickly blossomed into an all-out obsession. He asked questions; we answered to the best of our knowledge. (And please note that my own knowledge was thrown for a loop when it was revealed to me that brontosaurus is no longer considered a dinosaur. Say what!?)
And talk turned, eventually, to why the dinosaurs aren’t around anymore (Jurassic Park notwithstanding).
“Well, they’re extinct.”
“What’s ‘ecktinct?’”
“Well, scientists think that an asteroid hit the Earth and that the temperature changed and that all the dinosaurs died out. They became extinct.”
“What’s ‘died?’”
So there it is. The first of the Big Questions.
And one that led us into a discussion of the fact that all living things are born and then, eventually, die. Some things live only a day, if they’re lucky. Like the mayflies that I remember lining the deck of the steamboat that hosted some of our annual childhood summer vacations. Some live decades longer than humans. Like the Galapagos tortoise from one of Big Boy’s storybooks.
And some can expect to live to 78.2. Like us.
And maybe we shouldn’t have gone there. Maybe we should have stuck with the “all dinosaurs evolved into birds” theory and saved a discussion of birth and life and death for another day.
But we didn’t.
And now this: “Tiny Baby is going to die someday.”
So what did I do? How did I respond?
First, I hugged him. To comfort him, of course. To try to make him understand that no one in this house is dying on my watch. To comfort him, yes, but also to think.
But the funny part is that my mind went blank. I didn’t have THE answer, but I did have AN answer. And I gave it to him.
“That’s right. He will. Someday.” And that’s true. “But not for a very, very long time.” And I hope that’s true too.
And he looked up at me with his giant two-year old blue eyes, his tear-moistened eyelashes thick like flower petals, and he cried some more. Cried at the idea of his brother dying someday.
Then he stopped, his body still heaving occasionally as his breath regulated itself, and he looked at me.
“Like the dinosaurs, Mommy?”
“Yes, baby, like the dinosaurs.”
And he seemed to get it.
But should he be made to “get it,” I wonder, at age two? Should I have told my baby that his little brother is indeed going to die?
The trouble is, I’m not ready to answer these Big Questions for him when I’m not yet sure how to answer them for myself.
But what feels right is to be honest. To channel the book of Ecclesiastes via Pete Seeger and the Byrds:
To Everything (Turn, Turn, Turn)
There is a season (Turn, Turn, Turn)
And a time to every purpose, under HeavenA time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep…A time to build up, a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones, a time to gather stones together…A time of love, a time of hate
A time of war, a time of peace
A time you may embrace, a time to refrain from embracing…A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time for love, a time for hate
A time for peace, I swear it’s not too late
My friend Liz at …but then I had kids faced a similar conversation with her son, Ben, last week. Please check out her post to see how she and her husband handled Ben’s Big Question.
How do handle the Big Questions with your kids? How did your parents handle them with you? Is honesty always the best policy?
Image: Rhithrogena germanica subimago on Equisetum hyemale by Richard Bartz via Wikimedia Commons under a Creative Commons license.
{ 67 comments… read them below or add one }
Well, when the child came to Walt Whitman and asked the same question (in the guise of “What is the Grass?”) he had no idea either, but told the truth as well as he could tell it. And think about everything he learned (and we learned) as he answered it.
As an educator and as a parent, I believe firmly that we absolutely should answer the questions our children ask — as simply and clearly as we can, without adding a lot of extra details on top.
If Whitman were talking to Big Boy, he should have kept it as simple as he could. Kids ask us questions when they are ready to hear the answers, and they usually want only the answers to the questions they ask.
So my opinion (since you asked) is that your answer (and his question) were both brilliant for his age.
“Kids ask us questions when they are ready to hear the answers, and they usually want only the answers to the questions they ask.”
I love that. Thanks, Launa.
Tell them the truth. The answer may not be what Big Boy wants to hear but it will help him grow in the long run. Just remember that in a day or two he will be back to not caring what Little Baby is doing.
I answer them honestly and in an age appropriate fashion, although what I consider to be “age appropriate” may be different from what other people consider “age appropriate”. My 5 year old son has had a lot of questions about birth and he knows an awful lot about it now.
Also, because I don’t want to assume what spiritual beliefs my children will have, I often tell them about different beliefs and I also don’t deny their thoughts or beliefs even if they don’t match my own. With regards to death, I don’t tell them definitively what will happen after people die because we really don’t know. My daughter seems to believe in reincarnation at the moment because she always talks about what she’ll do “next time she is a baby” and I don’t jump right on that and say “you’ll never be a baby again”. Instead, I let her explore her own ideas about what happens after death.
Hi Annie – Thanks so much for stopping by Motherese and offering such a thoughtful comment. Your remarks about not making assumptions about what spiritual beliefs our kids might have reminds me of another conversation I had with my son yesterday:
Big Boy: “Some people believe in one God and some people believe in lots of gods.” (Here he was paraphrasing the wonderful kids’ book People by Peter Spier.)
Me: “What do you believe in?”
Big Boy: “Star Wars and dinosaurs and myths.”
That one gave me a good laugh, especially after the death discussion from a few days earlier!
Star Wars is usually the answer in our house too! :)
And I’m with Annie…we have tried to answer the big questions as honestly and openly as possible. Death, afterlife, religion, etc are all up for discussion without major assumptions.
We answer the big questions openly and honestly with our almost three yr old. But, I think answering these big questions have been a little easier because of our faith in Jesus. We’ve been reading about God and Jesusu with both boys from a really early age, and so the conversation has naturally flowed. We’ve shared with G. that if he puts his trust in Christ he’ll spend a new life with Jesus forever. Maybe he doesn’t get it totally, but he accepted it easily. He’s had two deaths to deal with — my dad and a family dog. And he’ll tell you both of them are living a new life with Jesus.
I guess this is only helpful, though, for those who share the same faith. Wishing you the best with answering those big questions. Poor sweet little guy has a biiiig heart.
Hi Hyacynth – I’m so sorry that your little guys have already had to deal with the death of two loved ones. We’re lucky, I suppose, that we’ve only had to discuss death in a hypothetical way.
I have had this conversation many times. I found that blogging about it was one of the best things I did because it helped me clarify my thoughts.
1) There is a book that we used- can’t remember the name- that talked about life spans. It went through plants, animals and people. My kids loved it.
2) I don’t shy away from religious instruction when appropriate.
3) I ask my kids what they think will happen and the go from there.
Seems to have been relatively effective for us.
I really appreciate these concrete suggestions, Jack. #3 especially seems to allow our kids to take the lead and prevents us parents from getting deeper into a discussion than they might be ready for.
I have found that letting them lead the conversation is a really easy way of not going astray. Highly recommended.
Oh — Jack’s comment reminded me of all the books we bought when our older girl started asking a million questions about death. LOVED *The Tenth Good Thing About Barney* and *The Old Woman Who Named Things* and then, when we had to talk about losing grandparents, *Nana Upstairs, Nana Downstairs.*
This is so tough. Especially when they ask so young. I got every one of these when my elder was two – death, birth, God, sex. And had to deal with it (http://dailyplateofcrazy.com/2009/09/15/tricky-trilogy-pushes-parents-to-ponder/).
They do better with it than we realize, but it’s painful for us, because it’s just beginning. They ask again and again, each time, wanting more precision. Somehow we manage, and they manage.
I hope you managed a good date night, nonetheless!
Fabulous post! Thanks for sharing the link.
I have no answers to this one. Only questions like you. I tend to rely on honesty, and like Annie says, I try to gauge what is age appropriate. But that’s really just another question isn’t it? Know what is age appropriate. My oldest is very inquisitive, and so far the questions have mostly been easy. My husband is far better with the honesty and answering than I am. I think that’s because he thinks about it less than I do. Worries less, perhaps. So, I’m sorry Kristen. No answers. Only questions like you. Perhaps we’ll keep coming back to this together?
Whoa. Big Questions already. But how sweet it was his little brother he was concerned about. And I think your handling of the situation was just right–what else can you give them but your greatest hope (not for a long, long time). When my kids are in their darker moods (yes these questions come up again and again, seemingly from nowhere), their favorite direction to go in is, in what order will the members of our family die? Ugh…not a road I want to go down.
Oh my! Now that is definitely a topic to avoid if at all possible. Yikes!
My daughter is three and has not yet asked questions about death so your son I think is asking some very big questions at an exceptionally young and tender age. Yet I think you are absolutely right to answer him honestly and simply and offer the reassurances you did. In some ways I think it is far better for your son to be facing these things at two than to suddenly come to the realization much later that not everyone will be here forever. Now he has time to accept the basic facts and slowly over time learn more. Never an easy subject though, I hope I do as well as you when my time comes.
It’s really hard when you have to tell your children that you just don’t know. We lost one of our twins last year, and her sister was in the NICU for a long time. Our older daughter was 3 1/2 at the time. Social workers advised us to be honest with her and tell her the baby had died, not to say “we lost her.” Her questions about it all are much more pointed now, a year later. She wants to know what happened to her sister, where she is, and is really worried that the surviving baby will go there too. She is even more concerned that Mommy and Daddy may go to heaven. We are not particularly religious people, so I don’t feel comfortable telling her anything for SURE. But she seems comforted about the idea of heaven, about the idea that someday we will be reunited with those who have gone before us. And I also tell her that she doesn’t have to worry about anybody else dying for a long, long time. I tell her that we will be around and see her grow up, have children. But how do you get around the fact that we lost somebody too soon? I wish I knew the answers.
Mel, I’m so sorry to hear about your daughter and am very grateful to you for sharing your story here. I cannot imagine having to answer the questions you’ve had in the context in which they’ve come up. I don’t think there are any right or wrong answers, but it sounds to me like you’ve done remarkably well fielding your older daughter’s questions, especially given the circumstances. Thanks again for being part of this conversation today.
I try to be as honest as possible, although there are some topics that I also try to change the subject without them noticing, and this is one of them. I just don’t want my 6yo worrying about things like death, and I say that because I know his personality and he would worry about it constantly. I just don’t want my kids to have to worry about “grown up issues” at such a young age, and that may be naive on my part, but in my opinion children grow up too quickly these days as is, and I’m going to try my best to help them just be kids are much as I can.
I don’t have kids so I can’t speak entirely to this with any certainty — or even know for sure how I will handle this one day–but for now, I believe you did what you should. I am generally an honest is the best policy believer, aside from the occasional “of course santa claus is real.” I think kids are remarkbly smart and resilient and can handle more than we give them credit for. It sounds like your Big Boy was able to accept what you told him and have a very intelligent response. Realizing that something you love will die one day is scary and sad, but he collected himself.. and I hope you were able to still enjoy a great date night!!
Kristin,
Thanks so much for dropping by the other day and commenting.
Wow. Two boys two and under. And writing a blog! My hat’s off to you, woman. Caring for one two-year-old grandson is doing me in. You are superwoman.
Your oldest sounds exactly like my oldest, Katherine. She was asking metaphysical questions as soon as she could talk. Because my husband and I are products of the Ozzie and Harriet generation, where nothing was discussed, we determined to answer each and every question as honestly as we could without going into more detail than was necessary. Although we did get a few phone calls from parents upset that our children explained the facts of life to theirs a bit prematurely, it has proven to be a good decision in the end.
Katherine asked me, “Why is there meanness in the world?” before she turned two. Her constant questioning, and that of her two sisters, forced me to clarify my own values and belief systems. We grew together.
The end result is passionate, strong women who have solid belief systems of their own, and are able to articulate their truth.
Without that, I don’t know how our daughter would be able survive the incredible challenges she faces every day following a devastating brain rupture. And not just survive, but thrive in spite of daily hell.
Real life is not the fairy tale we wish we could make it for our children. I think honesty and reality are vital preparation for life on an imperfect planet.
So I say keep doing what you’re doing. Keep speaking your truth as you know it, and be willing to let your children know that you don’t have all the answers. You will learn as much from them as they learn from you.
They are fortunate to have such a loving mother to guide them.
Wow, Kim, thanks so much for this. I have to smile at the idea of your daughters spilling the beans about the birds and the bees to the neighborhood kids; at this rate, I think I’ll be fielding similar confused phone calls from the parents of my sons’ playmates soon enough!
One part of your comment especially resonated with me: “Her constant questioning, and that of her two sisters, forced me to clarify my own values and belief systems. We grew together.”
I never anticipated before becoming a parent how much having kids would help me define and expand my own beliefs. Certainly I ask more questions now than I ever did before and I feel very lucky that I have the chance to grow into my own faith – and answer my own Big Questions – alongside my sons.
Thanks, Kim!
I am glad I still have some time before I am faced with a Big Question, but nothing in my past would prepare me for it as we’re not the kind of family that talks. Period. Nothing about the birds and the bees, grief, or even life in general. That is the way for many Asian families, I suspect, but I hope to change that for my little girl. Yes, it would’ve been easier to skip the Big Questions, to find the way out whenever possible. But I didn’t choose parenthood just for the fun, apple pie days. While I have not rehearsed any of my answers, I know I will opt for the truth as much as possible.
My parents protected me from many truths while growing up, including the death of my dog and my mom’s stroke while I was here. They didn’t want to “burden me with the truth”, thinking it was for my own good. It only made me resent their decisions. Kudos to you for handling this so well – your boys will appreciate this in the future more than you know.
Great job, Kristen. You were honest and he was content with the answer. What an amazing question for such a young little boy!
I blame Caillou for my son’s questions and fears about death. When he was 3 or 4 he watched an episode where a bird dies and the dad says it died because it “got too old”. Well, my son thought *I* was old and was going to die soon! I explained that there were many other people MUCH older than me who were still alive and that I would be around for a long, long time (hopefully). It’s such a difficult topic for such a young age, but I agree with the others that age-appropriate honesty is the best policy.
Caillou strikes again! Personally, I am willing to blame any and all trouble in the world on that whiny Caillou so I might just decide that it was he – and not the dinosaurs after all – who prompted Big Boy’s worry about his brother. Ugh – Caillou! :)
I’m with you! Caillou be damned! (Or is that going too far? He is a little boy, after all.)
I think it’s good that you told him the truth, even if it isn’t easy. And I think you did a good job of it, too.
These questions are always challenging Even more so when you are not expecting them. The key is to be honest and give just enough information to satisfy as this will change with age.
Oh Kristen. Such a powerful post. My eyes are wet, too, after reading about Big Boy’s magnificent mind and his awesome Mommy.
When H asked these questions, he was 3. And I answered in the same way as you, so, naturally, your response was brilliant. :)
I’m not always good at the simple answers (I tend to drone on and give too many details), and I miss the mark at times, but I feel really good about our death conversation. Yet my heart still throbs because he knows such about the finality of life.
Thank you, as always, for a beautifully written post.
Oh my goodness, this took my breath away. I can’t imagine having this conversation with my 2 year old. But, for the record, I would have handled it the same way. Honestly with a huge dash of comfort. Good job momma.
Great post, Kristen. I often worry about what my son can handle and am amazed just as often that he can grasp more than I give him credit for. I think our sense of protectiveness can get in the way of oiur children’s development. I used to be a nervous wreck at playgrounds for fear of him falling off high structures. But I remind myself that falling is part of the deal. He recovers, I recover and limitations are pushed. With the big questions, I’m usually at a loss for the right approach. But I’m beginning to think that if he can ask them, there’s a good chance he’s ready for an answer. So, I try to answer honestly. If I don’t get it right the first time, there are always follow up questions it seems, until the next big question comes.
Hi Belinda – I am a terrible worrier and so Big Boy’s question certainly made me wonder if I’ve passed along too much of my anxiety to him. So I was really pleasantly surprised when, although it didn’t make him happy, my answer didn’t seem to cause him more worry. Maybe honest answers are the conversational equivalent of falling at the playground.
Honestly, and with integrity, and (obviously) without recourse to invisible deities.
What a sweet, sensitive boy you are raising. I am touched by his care for his brother.
My 3 year old recently informed me that when I die she will be a grandmother.
My kids have seen many a dead animal and somehow I think that helps death not be such a scary, intangible notion (as it is to me).
I think doing what feels right to you in these cases can never be faulted. Honesty is best, never supplying too much info, only enough to satisfy, which seems to be what you did. Rejoice in having a caring feeling little boy. He’ll turn into a great man!
My kids always had “too much” info because I answered questions. I did have to be sure to tell them that some things shouldn’t be shared, that it was other kids’ parents jobs to do that and not theirs (especially when it came to sex; parents seem to keep from dealing with that one forever!); I didn’t want irate phone calls.
I think you did great … I’ve gotten this too (triggered by a great-grandparent, and then a beloved dog) and it is so hard. I think coddling is the wrong answer, but the challenge is to find an honest and true way to address the Big Question without terrifying or overwhelming them. I don’t have any universal answers of course. My own instincts sound a lot like yours. And I am sad about the big questions too, because they remind me of yet another one of the scales falling from their eyes. The raw real world coming closer to them. Sigh.
Rather profound post and discussion. More than enough strategies here with no need for more, but what really moves me is the bravery, honesty, faith, heartbreak, humor and compassion of parents spread over the life-cycle supporting each other to ponder and seek optimal response to one of life’s big questions. From Whitman to “The Woman Who Named Things,” to God and the acknowledgment that we just don’t really know… what we do know is that an awful lot of parents care about each other and their kids and that alone is transcendent and a touch eternal.
It’s so funny that you write this because I have been planning a post on the same issue. We moms are often in such same predicaments, huh?
(I think your answer was good. Kids feel better when they know something isn’t going to happen for a “long, long time.”
I was also at a loss when I found out that brontosaurus wasn’t a dinosaur. That rocked my world, and not in a good way ;) Ha! Fynn is a huge dinosaur fan as well, and we’ve spent countless hours learning all the names and technical terms… oy…
I think you did wonderfully. It’s so hard to answer in age appropriate ways. Because that’s the trick, but how to know what’s appropriate for every age?? It’s nearly impossible. I don’t remember being Fynn’s age, I don’t remember how much I could process, so we have to wing it. And when the time comes, I’ll have to remember your example…
hope you guys had a good date night!
I wonder sometimes if this is why people have more than one kid (as we both do): so that we get a second (and third…and fourth…) try at answering all of these Big Questions. I’m just glad to have this blog world to throw my own questions at and to be met with so many smart and heartfelt suggestions.
sounds to me like you did a fantastic job answering this very difficult question. As verbal and inquisitive as Hannah is, she has only superficially touched on dying so i haven’t had to address it much. She’s more concerned with where people go when they die, not THAT they die.
I think that this is just the start of the conversation that will be ongoing with Big Boy. He asked the first question and it may not come up again for a while. And when it does, he’ll probably dig deeper and want more. You’ll take each question as it comes and do great as usual.
AND… I can’t believe Big Boy is only 2! Luke just learned how to say “Happy” today. Which now I see is a good thing because obviously he won’t be asking the hard questions any time soon! :)
We haven’t had to deal with this yet so I appreciate all of the wise parental wisdom you all have!
I *think* I would do what you did and be honest while keeping in consideration what is age appropriate. That is my m.o. with adults at least…I think I am more open and honest than I think I should be…which can be good and bad, depending on the receiving end of the personality (mom = bad, husband = good, usually.)
Since, as you know, I am religious, this question doesn’t bother me. Of course this could also be that I haven’t experienced much death first hand. And it is much easier to answer hypothetical questions.
I think answering honestly is the best way, and if you are someone who has a deep affinity to some kind of religious belief, I would include your views as well.
Those topics are the hardest for any of us to discuss with our kids. It brings out our own anxieties and worries, and reiterates our deire to keep them from any harm.
Sorry to laugh, but I was just as shocked when I heard the brontosoraus is now the apatasoraus. Exactly..say what?
I think honesty is the best, but I would’ve been so unprepared for a question out of the blue like that. “whoa..” Exactly.
Here I thought he was going to say he would miss you.
Wow…this is the part of parenting that makes me so nervous! You have to be ready for those “big questions” all the time…no warning. What a sweet moment.
We had this exact same freak out when my Oldest was eight and it was directly after watching a dinosaur documentary. Husband was working out of town and so was freaking out that Daddy was going to die. It was so troublesome to him that he actually satarted pulling his hair out in small bits, did not return to normal until husband’s business project was complete and he was back home for good. Breaks my heart.
Whoa loch ness monster, that is more than just a big question. That is gargantuan. At least your lil man is putting 2 and 2 together. Death can be such an abstract idea to children.
I haven’t had that conversation, yet. Anthony is technically old enough, but he doesn’t have the speech to ask that sort of question. With him I try to give him as much honest information about life as possible, but I have waited on this. Simply because he says he sees his papa. Who is my late father in law.
The simple answer is I am a woman of a religious background and I don’t have all the answers. But I do have faith and sometimes that is all that matters when it comes to having those big conversations with my babies.
I think all the time about the role of faith in answering all of these Big Questions. I’m actually working right now on my post for tomorrow which deals with my own relationship toward faith. Stay tuned!
I’ve been really terrible at dealing with death for our kids. Well, for our older one, anyway. Like, editing parts of princess stories and bible stories and skipping parts in movies that deal with death. We’ve *had* to face it though, since my grandma died, but I don’t think she really gets it. Which worries me again….because when she does get it…it’ll hurt. I’m such a baby!
As long as nothing painful or difficult or disappointing happens to my kids, I’m a GREAT mother :) Otherwise…look out!
Oh, the big questions. They always come at times like that, too. Or when you’re driving on the highway. You did good here, Kristen. For all of you.
The miniature horse at my daughter’s preschool (it’s on a farm) broke her leg and had to be put down last week. When the teachers sent an e-mail telling all of us parents, I sobbed for an hour for the poor horse, for all the children, for the Big Questions I don’t know how to answer.
They left it up to us whether to initiate a discussion with our children. We chose not. The easy way out, I know. I am so very not ready for those Big Questions.
Oh boy. These Big Questions are one of the things that really worries me about parenthood. How would I know what to say? What if I can’t come up with an answer on the spot? What if Husband and I give different answers. And the really difficult part is that I myself don’t understand some of these big things. But maybe the wonder of kids and their curious minds is that they can illuminate things in a way we never would have ourselves. They can take new information in stride, and interpret it in pretty amazing ways.
I think you’re really onto something here, Eva. Because little kids (well, the really little ones, at least) don’t have all of the dark and scary scaffolding that many adults associate with death, in some ways they are better able to deal with honest answers, taking the “new information in stride,” as you say.
See, Eva, you’re more ready to answer those Big Questions than you might think, should you and Husband decide that having kids is right for you. :)
Are the stars aligned in a certain (morbid) way? My sons are suddenly obsessed with the same topic. You handled it so beautifully and with such delicate grace. I heart you, Kristen!
Ohhhhh, Big Boy! I tear up whenever somebody else tears up about the loss of someone close. Hug that sweet child for me, Kristen.
I think all one can do is answer these big questions as honestly and kindly as possible. You handled it wonderfully.
The “opportunity” to have that conversation has not yet risen {my son doesn’t talk yet}. But I remember when I was 12 years old, for some reason, I thought long and hard about the inevitability of dying. I started to FREAK out! My uncle reassured me that the amount of people who pass is a small number, and that it wasn’t going to be for a long time before I needed to worry about it. To be perfectly honest, I wish that I had a better explanation, because that topic really disturbs me. I couldn’t imagine trying to attempt explaining to my son.
Job well done!
It’s so interesting to me how we all come to our questions about death at different points. I don’t remember thinking or worrying much about death as a kid, but my husband did – and clearly our older son takes after him. Whenever your son does ask the Big Questions, I bet that you will rise to the occasion with an explanation that works for you. After all, all we can do is our best and I have a feeling your best will come to you when you need it most.
Thanks so much for stopping by Motherese, Jacqueline!
Kristen, really a great post. I love that you’re trying to go on a date with your husband and Big Boy pops up with this question!
The thought of death is a devastating one for kids, however, I don’t think they truly understand the concept of it until later. They use the terminology but don’t understand the finality (at least from where we’re sitting.) My daughter has been quite terrified about me dying for some time now – like years. And what can I say? Everything dies and, yes, I will die too.
I like the idea of answering only what’s asked and I will say, now that mine are older, I will give them an honest answer to anything so they’d better watch out!
You’ll be glad to know that last night’s date night went off without a hitch. No Big Questions as I was on my way out the door. :)
I’m especially interested in your perspective on this, Linda, given the health scare that you went through. So thanks for being here and taking the time to comment.
Well, I wasn’t going to mention the brain tumor, but now that you asked … My daughter, while too young to actually remember anything from that time period (she was not even two) has heard about it over the years and about the headaches that I had for the first 8 years. So, as she’s matured she’s reframed this in light of her own increasing knowledge of how serious a brain tumor is. Not a good situation. Truly, if I had any way to be me and not have been open about this, I wish I had never told her.
Even though we “discussed” it, I still can’t believe we basically went through this at the same time. I’m still reeling from the conversation, Kristen. It was unnerving. I think we both did the best we could. I admit I “colored” my answers with a lot of “like, forever”…cause I firmly believe that if, God willing, life works out the way I hope, we will be around for what will hopefully feel like forever for each other. Although of course, even real forever could never be enough…
Dinosaurs, it appears, are the conduit for meaningful discussions.
My daughter was in LOVE with them as a pre-schooler. I learned all the names all over again (like you!) and was shocked at the Big Questions that came with the big names.
Perhaps it is the mystery of dinosaurs: something we are certain existed but now doesn’t, that fuels other wonderings. What is real and what does extinction mean? How do we study things that we are no longer able to touch?
I found that dinosaurs were a great friend for me…a sort of practice round for the Big Questions so that, later, when my brother died or my mother, we’d had some talks and I’d had some idea what each of my kids thought about these sorts of things.
Because, like Annie, I think it’s not only important to foster my children’s interests and physical needs, but their spiritual path as well. It is in answering and wondering about the Big Questions that I’ve discovered my kids most. It’s been thrilling to watch them emerge and watch how I evolve and my thinking because they educate me.
And I know so much about dinosaurs I didn’t
learn the first time around.
Sometimes kids ask questions that startle us to the core. “What do I say?!” we panic. But I found that often times a simple, truthful answer is all it takes to satisfy them, for the time being at least, until you have time to google it and find what other wiser people said in response to the same questions from their kids. “Where do babies come from?” “They come from the hospital.” Cross your fingers.
My 7 yo understands the concept of mortality, yet he is also convinced that we will all die by age. So I will die first, then daddy, etc. I think seeing me alive and well is keeping his fear of death at bay for now.