Five Minutes of Hunter

Hunter, the three year old, is usually pretty excitable.  That probably comes naturally given the fact that he is both three and a boy... and the youngest of four of course.  Tonight Geoff wanted to watch a couple episodes of How I Met Your Mother.  Fine.  Hunter was still up but we went for it anyway. 

The catalyst, other than the fact that we wanted to do something that did not involve him directly, was when he grabbed my root beer (from yesterday - ew) and chugged ... Then he was ON.  He has a piece of a Monster High Doll stand that he uses as a sword.  He was swinging and jumping and waaaay too close for comfort.  We still tried to watch the show.

Geoff and I were laying on the couch, I was on the outside. Hunter put something (I think it was an old "sword" that held bubble blowing stuff) in my hand and then fought with it.  All I had to do was hold it in one place.  We still tried to watch the show but he was getting more and more rambunctious. Finally I tossed that blue thing out of my hand out of fear he was going to impale me with his sword.  "But that makes me sad!" he cries.  So we paused the show and let him go. 

Within the span of about 4 minutes, he fought swords, posed for eighteen photos, jumped from the floor to the end of the couch, to the other end of the couch, ran around the ottoman, fought some more swords, back up to see Dad on the couch, posed for a few more shots and then miraculously... we were able to put him to bed.  I need my sleep, people.  That kid has energy.  And why shouldn't he?  He so obviously stole it all from me.

Should I Stay Or Should I Go?

The title is a little ominous and from my current viewpoint, I can't help but feel that way anyway.  I'm thinking of going back to work.  I have all of these great ideas that, unfortunately, will cost money - I'm just not sure that the working at home thing is going to be right for me at this point. 

I imagine many stay-at-home Moms think about this.  Would it be better to be outside the home or not?  And by "better" I don't necessarily mean more satisfying or bringing in an income. I mean... should I?  Being at home is hard - there's so much to do and I am well aware of the fact that there's still going to be so much to do if I go back to work... but will it be easier??

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I did a cost analysis.  For me to go back to work and have care for all of my children, it will cost me around $2000.  Does that seem insane?  Yes.  Yes it does.  That's just what it costs.  Hahahahaha - can't wait to see the look on the accountant's face!  It will also cost me in travel and clothing.  So I stand to pay out a minimum of $2600 per month to go to work.  Really?

What on earth is the point??  Oh right, dental - for Miss. Me's impending braces; pension - for the not really impending but eventual retirement; money to pay for the immense number of extra-curricular activities that the kids want to do; money to pay my student loans back; oh right - and possibly number one on the list: NOT having to ask my hub to bring home money to give to the kids so they can buy whatever they want at the book fair because I don't have any left. THAT.

But there's other things to consider. I like baking stuff for the kids lunches.  I like being here when they get home to make sure they do the stuff they're supposed to do.  I like having the time with Hunter.  Sucks to have to make the decision to go back... maybe I need to try harder at that whole dayhome thing.  Paying out $2600 a month seems ridiculous; even if I could afford it.  There are pros and cons.  I will have to get back to you on this.

The Children Were Nestled...

...by the fireplace.  There's a chill in the air and I can't help but enjoy each sunshine-y day.  Well, it certainly seems as if I'm in a good mood - and I am; I think.  On what feels like day one hundred and seventy six thousand and two of our recently integrated schedule, there was no fighting.  There were a couple of smarty pants remarks but there was no fighting. 

I painstakingly ensured that everyone had the same amount of chores each day as well as the same amount each week.  Miss. Me looks at the schedule today and says "Why do I have to unload the dishwasher four times a week?"  I was calm, though I admit, slightly paranoid because I made the schedule almost a month ago and I was worried she had found some obscene unfairness within that I had missed.

"Well," I said (after I counted them up) "you could have dishwasher duty only twice a week if you did it all by yourself but you have four because there are two of you to share it..." I was prepared for a "I'd rather do it by myself and only have two days a week" or something of the sort that would require me to redo the entire schedule but I got a surprise.  She just said "Ohhhh, right;" and proceeded to unload her half of the dishwasher. 

They did homework.  Again, with some slight complaint but everyone settled down and did it.  Miss. Me, again, asked "Why do I have to use that book? It doesn't even make any sense!" It's a grade 5-6 Summer Bridge book I picked up and never made them do over the summer.  "You have to do it because unless you bring something from school, you will use this." I replied, oh so calmly, still.  "Well I'll just bring my own stuff home then." Came the uppity reply.  Huh.  Well, you just go ahead and show me who's boss baby.

I would calculate this as a win but I think I'm still in shock; and tomorrow is a new day of course.

Mom on Strike?

Sometimes it's easy.  "It".  The word is deliciously vague, yet always refers to something specific.  I haven't written in two days because "it" wasn't coming to me.  The "it" was humour.  However, after a brief memory that came to me this morning, I do have an inspiration.  "Moms on Strike".

Kids aren't doing their chores and they're not following their schedule.  Of course, it's my responsibility to make them follow their schedule but I won't take all the blame because they have a responsibility to follow the rules.  Hunter is fighting the little things he's supposed to do and in general, I'm getting severely miffed.  Nothing else has changed; they're still asking for this and that; Mom can you make cookies; Mom can you make sure my shirt is clean for tomorrow; Mom can you make this or that; Mom can you take me here.... I'm feeling like ... a Mom.

I've been outside the home many times over the past nine years.  Work, school and work; I've not always been at home.  I am perfectly aware that whether or not I "have time" to do these things, they will still be requested.  Everything still has to be done.  My question is why does it have to be so one-sided?

I watched a movie on W once, called Moms on Strike.  I honestly don't think I had any personal experience with the whole thing at that point but I didn't doubt the premise.  And though I know that as much as I would like to go on strike, it is unlikely to happen.  In fact, I consider the past two days of being outrageously tired and falling asleep while everyone else enjoyed a nice dinner as a "feeler" for being on strike.  As I suspected, I just have more to do now.  So a strike doesn't seem like a good idea at all.  Maybe I just needed the reminder.  In writing.  "Hi-ho, Hi-ho" people.  Those dishes aren't going to wash themselves.  Grumble, grumble.

More on Memories: and Blue Hair

Yesterday I wrote about how quickly the kids grow up and it's along the lines of conversations we've been having in my house for the better part of a week.  When I think about the fact that they only have a short period of time to be kids and how there's like this clock ticking for us parents to give them everything they need to know before we send them out into the world... well sometimes I'm left feeling like I'll never get it all in!

Miss. Me is eleven and a budding fashionista.  Okay, she's already a fashionista - and she wants to do more.  Over the past few days she's been asking to dye the tips of her hair.  Thanks to a post by Barbie, Bieber and Beyond, I know how to do this.  Miss. Me would like those tips to be blue.

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My initial reaction is "Ugh! No!" But then it got me thinking about how short their time is.  Sure we need to prepare them to be adults.  It occurred to me as we were discussing this blue hair that they only have a few short years to be able to do something like that.  When do you want your child to do something silly?  Okay, maybe the answer is "never" but let's be realistic here.  If I keep an extremely tight leash on them until the day they turn eighteen and then say "now you're an adult, you can do what you want"... they probably will.



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Do I want Miss. Me to show up with blue hair the day after her eighteenth birthday? Yeesh, I hope not. Would I prefer her "blue hair phase" to happen when she's eleven?  Well, between the two choices, yeah, I think I would.  As adults we know how irrelevant those years become once we're past them but in the thick of it, well their peers, school, activities - it truly is their entire life.  And it does go by quickly.  They only have a little bit of time to dye their hair blue before I want them to start acting like an adult - even if I want them to prepare for it; if they can't be a kid now, then when?

So, yes, I've managed to convince myself that I will let her get blue tips.  Once I found the two photos it helped: a little blue versus the possibility of a full head of blue? UM, Yeah.  I suppose I've just reminded myself about the power I do have as a parent.  If I allow her to get the blue in her hair, I can opt for something similar to the first photo - because I'm making the decision; and she will be thrilled.  If I hold out until she can do what she wants, I could end up looking at something like the second photo.  Damn.     

Lest We Forget

As Ethan was getting ready for bed last night he said "Oh, right, school tomorrow.  That sucks."  And I replied "I'm so jealous! I really miss school!"  He gave me one of his little grins. "Feel free to trade me places any time."  And I was taken back to a memory I have kept with me of one moment in a grade four classroom.

I vividly recall sitting in class one day and thinking "One day, I will be in grade twelve and I will remember sitting here in this desk and wishing I was in grade twelve."  I was so excited to grow up, to be older.  I can no longer remember if there were other parts to that memory; if I had special plans or anything, just that I wanted to remember the desire.  And I did - still do.

Ethan has never shown anything other than an interest in a future career to go along with getting older. Ocean is a preteen and impatiently awaiting all of those amazing firsts she will experience on her journey to womanhood (Heaven help me).  Aaron has been impatiently awaiting the day when his wants override ours.  Ethan, not so much at all.

I'm amazed at how the realization has hit me, and how I tell my expectant adults that they really have very little time to be children.  I'm probably getting through to them just as much as my Mom did to me but it's true - and it really does happen quickly.  I didn't see it much before but when I really think about it, the time that seems to be the longest is before they become school-aged.  Then it just flies.

And it's difficult not to let them get excited about all of the things that becoming an adult brings: driving, increased responsibility and autonomy, career choices, college, travel... there are so many benefits to being older.  I count myself lucky, and them too, that I have as many children as I do because they have been able to enjoy their time with one another and I have been able to keep them at home more often.  This is the only time of their lives that I have that control - and I hope they come back often too.

Thinking about my moment in grade four, I gave Ethan a big hug and assured him "I would love to go back to grade four!"  He looked up at me with those beautiful blue eyes and said "Um, okay, but I'm in grade five."  Oh yeah - that's right. 

One Night, One Morning

Geoff is usually home around 6:00 and then we have dinner.  Normally, out of the kindness of my heart, I wait for him before we eat.  It was nearing 7:00 when I still hadn't heard from him and so I got dinner on the table.  He showed up at 7:30 and didn't say a word.  I was a tad grumpy.  Then, as I sat down to write my blog, he mentioned that a co-worker of his had arrived... at our house. 

I'm by far at my most hospitable when I haven't showered and I get surprise company that was only a surprise to me.  That morning, I had also been awakened by Geoff's alarm at 4:30 and apparently he did not have to be up at that time.  So I was in an all-around pleasant mood with him by the evening. 

We had a reasonably late night and I was certainly less angry than I had been earlier; I even liked him again.  We had some good laughs, reduced some stress and just enjoyed ourselves.  I was borderline forgiving of the second time he'd left his alarm this week and woken me up.  At 4:45, he wakes me up because he thinks his foot is broken.  I was not impressed; after all, it hadn't been broken last night!  I called him a cab and gave him a mop to hobble out with.  Perhaps that was a little harsh as he certainly seemed to be in pain, but I was having none of this on the third morning in one week.  He came back around 7:00 on crutches.  Blood poisoning.  Don't ask, I have no idea.

The rest of the kids made it out to the bus and Hunter was thrilled that Dad was home for the day.  It also didn't take him long to realize that Dad couldn't chase him.  Hunter threw underwear at Geoff and ran away yelling "you can't catch me!"  He made a game of this for a little while until Geoff stopped seeing the humour in it. 

Afterwards we headed out to get his prescription filled and I have no idea why, but Geoff insisted on accompanying Hunter and I.  Hunter wouldn't stop asking all the way to the store:  "Dad, look at this!" "Dad, did you see that?" "Dad, what is that?"  "Dad, how do we go far away?" "Dad, are we going this way or that way?" I giggled and giggled because Hunter just has such unlimited energy.

And of course once we were at the store Hunter became more excitable.  Geoff: hobbling around the store. Me: window shopping because I can walk.  Hunter: "Dad, can I have this?" "Dad, come see this!" "Dad..." "Dad..." "Dad..." I was howling by the time we got back home because he just kept going and I could tell that Geoff was having a hard time keeping up.  I couldn't help but laugh because Hunter was sharing his Hunter-ness.  Hey, you wanted to come for the ride, smart guy; by the way, I like you again.

I Don't Mean To Be Grumpy

This is only the second week of school.  You know how those moments kind of sneak up on you... those ones that come every day ... the grumpy kids.  Last year was tough trying to keep everything organized and make sure everyone was doing what they were supposed to, plus keeping up with the house and my own stuff.  Exit my own stuff and you'd think it would just be easier.

Yesterday morning I dropped my phone in the lasagna pan that was still sitting on the counter, full of water.  It made a bigger mess than you'd think.  So I removed it from it's case and got it into a bowl of rice.  And mopped the floor.  It probably needed it anyway, but I've had better mornings.

I realize I still have things on the go.  It's not entirely different in some ways other than the fact that I can do the majority of my stuff at any time.  So I started the kids on a schedule.  Last night we had it out.  I have a list on the fridge of before school routines, after school and before bed.  The best thing about this is it also reminds me so that I can remind them. 

I've got them doing scheduled homework time and even if they don't have homework, I have things for them to do.  I'm trying to instill a habit, that's all.  Their chore list is easily seen and they have two per night.  Two empty the dishwasher.  The other one tidies their bathroom.  One sets the table and the other two tidy up after dinner.  It's fair.  They switch each day. 

After a brief discussion about video game time (only an hour tops and only before dinner), renaming the "clear table" to "clean up after dinner" (to avoid future issues with the expectations) and reminding everyone that these are their responsibilities to be done every night... Hunter.  He starts with our nightly disagreement about whether he will wear a diaper to bed.  I realize that I knew the arguments would start soon because that's what kids do.  Hunter - well I'm hoping that fight will go away like the other things he did eventually changed with consistency.

I'm certain it's not helping that I think I'm slightly sleep deprived.  Twice this week I have awoken to Geoff's alarm, at 4:30am.  Both times, he didn't need to be up - apparently.  The first time, I made coffee.  This morning, he's lucky I'm not violent.  I'm just hoping Hunter had a great sleep last night and is ready to get up soon.  That way we can nap at the same time.  And I can be somewhat refreshed to go at the schedule again when the kids get home from school.  Oh, and I'm back to square one on the no yelling thing; for the second time since I started last week.  Yep, it's just been one of those weeks.

Somebody Needs A Nap

I admit, it was me and that was before Hunter became concrete-footed about going grocery shopping.  He was adamant: "No, you go!" I tried to be nice. I tried to be firm.  "No, just you go!" In the end, I bribed him with a possible treat.  So I got him in the car at least.

When we arrived at the store he didn't want to get out.  No one wants to be that mom whose kid is wailing and disturbing all the happy shoppers.  "Why can't I stay here?" He asked.  "Because I can't Hunter, come on, I need you to pick out your treat." I begged. He finally looked like he would. "I want to get out that door" he said, pointing to the other passenger door. "Fine" I agreed, "I will open it for you." Then he says "No, you get back in and I'll come up." I didn't lose it.  I closed the door and counted to five hundred. 

He slowly made his way to the front seat.  I went to open the door. "No, I want to do it!" he pouted.  I closed the door and vibrated.  And waited.  He looked like he had the handle but there was no movement.  I simmered.  Nothing.  I couldn't stand it.  I did have some sort of timeline here as I was trying to get back home before the kids finished school.  I opened the door and he protested and I picked him up anyway, carrying him as he cried and arms wide as he stared longingly back at the truck. 

He doesn't like being in the cart but I just wanted to get the shopping done.  I put him in and he continued to cry. "Okay" he tried, "I'll listen!" "It's not that, Hunter, I just want to be quick." And he cried and cried while I tried to grab produce.  Eventually he was able to move himself into the top basket but he was still in the cart so I left it be.  Then he got to the lower cart.  Then he got out.  At first he was helpful. 

I replaced two jalapeno peppers that he picked up for me.  I replaced bagels. I couldn't find him.  He came back.  We got to the dairy section. "Can I have this?" He asked, holding a Yop.  "Yes you can, please stay with the cart." I replaced Jello.  I grabbed milk and couldn't find him. "Hee hee hee" I heard from behind the freezer.  "Okay, I see you, come back please." He ran and hid by the chips. I waited and patiently called him.  He came back after about three times.  We kept filling the cart.  I continued to replace stuff. 

We got in line and I remembered I needed two more things.  We left the cart and he followed.  He hid behind the water.  "Come on Hunter" I called.  He followed.  I'd lost my place in line.  "No worries" I told the lady.  And I meant it.  Whatever. It was just a completely full cart waiting to be unloaded.  "Ooh," Hunter says as he pokes at the cart, "Marshmallows." "Those are for rice crispy squares" I told him. "Oh that reminds me" says the lady who took my spot "I need Rice Krispies for that too. You can have your spot back." And I was actually glad that she didn't ask me to hold it for her. 

We were in line, everything was out of the cart, and I was waiting to pay when I realized - again - that Hunter was gone.  I assumed he wasn't far and I paid, moved my cart out and went to see if I could find him.  He was in fruit.  In a box of fruit.  I picked him up and brought him back to the cart, opened the yogurt drink and made him sit.  I packed the boxes up and came home.

About fifteen minutes after I'd finished putting everything away, Hunter comes in "Can I play at William's house?" "Yes you can" and he's so excited and happy yelling "She said yes!" and ran to play with his friend.  Little kids suck.

Inspiration Comes From Everywhere

This morning I read the following blog and decided that I need to try this again. With four children, I have to admit that yelling is my least favourite thing.  Before I ever had my first child, (I've mentioned this many times, I know) I saw the episode of Oprah with the man who authored "How to Behave So Your Kids Will Too".  When the explosions go off in my house, they are loud. 
Diary of a Doting Mom: 30 days and Yell-Free! Five things that I learnt from my challenge

One day I might order that book.  I get the premise, loud and clear, so I've never seen the need to actually read it.  Anyhow, let's get back to embarrassing truths.  I grew up in a family that yelled.  I was also spanked with wooden spoons.  I kept the yelling for my own kids but left the wooden spoons out.  I also had children in a time where parents were suddenly (and I do mean suddenly) being called to task for child abuse if they disciplined their children in public.  Now perhaps the media made this more sensational (no, not the media) but it freaked people out.  My own decision actually came from the inherent hypocrisy in constantly telling O and E not to hit and, then what? Attempting to get your point across by hitting them?  Even as a new and completely inexperienced Mom, I realized it wasn't going to work for me.

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So, the next best thing I guess, from my own upbringing is that I yelled.  And now each of them yell.  When everyone gets going it's incredibly loud... and embarrassing.  I remember Nana saying to Mom back in the day "Quiet down! What will the neighbours think?" At that point of course Mom was so mad that she would yell back "I don't give a damn what they think!"  That's probably the censored version.  Actually, it's definitely the censored version. I remember something about "flying"...

Of course, I grew up in a different time and situation.  I remembered how stressful it was with the constant yelling and I've tried to stop before.  I have a feeling this will take a few tries.  But thanks to the success story of another, I am adamant that I will now try again.  In fact, since I've started writing this, I've already had a chance to practice because Hunter peed on the carpet.  How lucky am I to have this constant test of my abilities?  Probably luckier than I feel at this exact moment.

I AM IN CONTROL!

I say this because I actually managed to get my kids to do all of their chores right after school.  There were a couple of sour moments like "I hate this day" and "I'm having the worst day ever", but in the end, they were successful and I was beaming.  Almost as much as my mirrors but not quite because the job was really sub par.  However, I'm not going to even bring that up because he's 7.  And he tried.

This day fairly rocked because I felt like I accomplished a lot.  Having more than a couple of kids has its benefits.  I may not have personally accomplished a lot but the vacuuming, dusting, kitchen and mirrors were all completed within a half hour because they helped me.  Or did their chores, however you want to think of it. 

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Yes, things are coming together  nicely.  The kids have, in the last week and a half, done their chores, their homework, their reading, and their bedtime routines.  I expect that I will have severe disobedience issues in the upcoming weeks because (apparently) that is what happens when you introduce something new: they take to it, you're happy, then they completely disarm you by pushing back to see if it will stick (thank you again, psychology classes).  Apparently the key to an actual transformation (or building a habit) will come by making it through this stage. I am in control, I am in control, I am in control... Wish me luck.

In other news, after the homework session which inspired my last post, I decided to add "Shitmykidssay" quotes to The Mom Evolution page on Facebook.  Sometimes they crack me up and other times, well, if it's happening to someone else it's always funnier.  Besides, I want to put it in writing - so they can have an idea of what to expect with their own children one day.  Or at least so I can sit them down and say "Look what I went through!"... when I'm old and decide it's time to toss my filter away.  Because I am in control; so it will totally be my choice.

There's Hope If There's Humour

So it's been almost three months that I've been blogging and recently I figured out Twitter, which has made me neglect the Mom Evolution Facebook page because Twitter is mind candy... bad mind candy.  Stay with me - I have a point.  The kids know I blog mostly about them and usually my Facebook updates are about them, and now I tweet about them. 

A few weeks ago Ethan said "Mom, we should get more credit for all your posts and pictures because we do everything and you just write about it."  Fair enough, young man.  I showed him some blogs so he could tell that they were all getting credit for everything they did.  The thing is, sometimes I think they are going above and beyond what normal children do at times, just to give me a good story.  Like I needed that.

I have included homework time into the schedule so they know the expectation is there.  On this, their fifth day of school, they still don't really have homework yet so I'm giving them pages from those educational school curriculum books that I cannot help buying whenever I see them. Ocean has a math test on Friday so I had her doing some math stuff.  She complained and whined and it was annoying. Then with a completely straight face she says "I can't wait until math grows up and solves its own problems."  I smirk.  I tweet.  That was frickin' funny. "Are you tweeting that? Are you putting that on Facebook?" They know.

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"Okay, back to homework." Aaron finishes up his snack and goes to put his spoon in the sink right at the exact moment (I guess) as Ocean is trying to lug the milk up to the counter - there's a collision.  There's squealing. "He got right in front of me!" "She hit me with the milk!"  "Guys come on!" I say exasperatedly. "Sometimes you have to keep your eyes open for others because you are not the only person in the world!" To which Ocean replies, "No, there's lots", to which Aaron adds "and some of them are blind."  Oh my. I smirk again.  I tweet again.

It is beginning to make it extremely difficult for me to not laugh at these guys.  Sure they make me think my head will explode some days, but I can't be doing that bad of a job if they're going to have this kind of humour.  It's just not possible.

Not Fun, Just Thought-Provoking

Where to begin?  My power went out this morning at 8:30am. Ironically, I had asked Geoff yesterday if he had remembered to pay it and he informed that he had.  So I called the company just to see and turns out it was the whole town.  So fine - it only lasted twenty minutes or so.  Hunter did not do well with it however.

Have you ever tried to explain a power outage to a three year old?  Well they don't quite get it; especially if you had just put Diego on because that's what he'd asked for.  He was really mad.  Eventually I recalled that the laptop had been plugged in all night and I could probably use that.  Here's something you probably never think about - wireless internet: it's reliant on power.  So there was no Netflix and therefore no Diego.  I managed to get him to pick an actual disk and everything was set.  I also knew that since it wasn't a horrible day out, we could head to the park as well if things stayed off for a while.  Turns out though, I am ill-prepared for an apocalypse of any kind.

As I mentioned, the power was back on in less than a half hour but a lot of things were going through my head during that time: fridge contents, freezer contents; there wouldn't be hot water for all that long.. little things like that.  To the best of my knowledge, we still need to get more propane for the BBQ too so I would have been S.O.L. for the day had I needed it.  Now it's not that I think there's really going to be an apocalypse but this experience made me aware of the fact that I'm not prepared for a daytime emergency situation. 

I think most people have a night-time emergency kit, the candles, flashlights etc., and a car emergency kit for winter driving (in Canada anyway) but do you have a daytime emergency preparedness plan?  I don't!  My fail safe is literally "Go to Nana's or Grandma's house".  I suppose since I still have that choice, it will likely remain my go-to.  Another thing you probably only think about when the power is out is that your cordless phones don't work either.  I used to have an old handset that I kept just in case because it must have happened once and I knew I needed it.  Sure I have the cell but I don't use that much for talking...

All in all, there was not much fun today and the afternoon was spent riding the kids' butts on their chores and homework and studying, but all ended well eventually.  So consider this a public service announcement to think about what you would need to have if you happened to be without power and little ones at home during the day - it's a completely different kit from the other ones.  Cheers :)

"And What Does Blue Say?"

Every parent has had that moment when their innocent child says something completely out of left field.  Aside from "stupid", it began with Hunter's "Sometimes bad things happen, and sometimes the zombies eat everyone."  There were times when he would omit the zombies part and I started to realize that he didn't have anything else to say other than "sometimes bad things happen."

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I was pretty proud of myself when I endeavoured to change that and he now says "sometimes bad things, but sometimes good things happen..." which can be followed by anything his ill-equipped inner monologue can possibly come up with.  This is fairly simple apparently because they're parrots at this age. 

Hunter learned that the traffic lights meant certain things based on their colours.  For green, red and yellow, this comes in handy because he associates the colour with the meaning and it's all good.  I was an art major, but not fine art.  When Hunter asks what blue "says", I stutter.  "Well, it means sad" sometimes.  "It also means relax".  "It can be used to mean boy". "It can mean clean (as in water)".  Do you see the predicament?  And Hunter is three.  He has the attention span of a gnat.

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He's smart because he has three older siblings who have hurried his education along - sometimes to his own detriment (and mine of course).  "Blue" is not an easy colour to describe and being the other kind of art major I was, I can put way too much information into a standard answer.  The point is that since I cannot myself determine what it is exactly that blue means, I have a difficult time telling Hunter.  If I have too many answers, such as in this instance, the question is asked much more frequently - because he's yet to receive information that is useful to him (this is how I understand the problem).

credit: business.financialpost.com

The most common answer I give to this question is "blue means sad" but it's constantly mocked in everyday life.  Recycling containers are blue.  Blue planet.  Blue sky.  None of these things can be associated with "sad".  It's confusing and though his mind is eager for the knowledge, context is not an easy thing to teach.  I guess the point of today's segment is that as parents, we know too much. 

Settling on one answer is by far the simplest thing to do but that's not always possible.   So until the day that Hunter can comprehend the many different things associated with the colour blue, I assume he will continue to ask the question.  Once he's got that down he's likely going to start asking other questions and I will look back wistfully on the days when all he wanted to know was "what does blue say?"