So silly

I love my little Dictator. Love, love, love that kid. However, I do wish that she had come with a 'mute' option.

The Dictator LOVES to talk. I've never in my life met a person that likes the sound of their own voice more. Starting at 6 months old, the Dictator was babbling, cooing and 'singing' to anyone she saw. At 10 months she started saying quite a few words. By 15 months she spoke over 250 words and could string small sentences together. By two years she spoke in sentences full time and used large vocabulary words (like ironic and superficial) in every day speech. Everywhere we go people have always remarked on her excellent grasp of language and communication.

Stupidly (yes, stupidly. If you have a toddler or older child, you understand the horror of a talking tiny person), the Politician and I fostered her speech development. Working tireless hours with her, we would show flashcard after flashcard and eagerly repeat words after her to make sure she heard them correctly and to validate we were understanding her attempts. Our eager new parent giddiness overwhelmed us with the need to make sure our little wunderkind was the best and the brightest.

We brought this hell upon ourselves.

Starting at 2 years old, the Dictator discovered "Why?"
"Why? does the grass grow Momma? Why is the sky blue? Why do turtles live in shells? Why do I need to wear shoes? Why does my foot itch?"
On and on it went. An endless parade of "Why?"

Parenting instincts told me not to squash her curiosity.  I patiently answered every "Why?" question the best I could. It was sweet really that she was so curious, and that she thought I would have all the answers for everything she wanted to know.

Then came "How?"
"How?" was much more annoying than "Why?"
"How?" meant I would most likely need to look to Google for an answer.
Just as one "How?"question was answered, another would take it's place. "How DOES electricity work?" "How does the corn get harvested?" "How does the moon work?" Thank God for smart phones. My thumbs are numb from all the odd internet searches I have performed over the past year.

Just as we started moving away from "Why and How?" a new phrase entered our lives.......
More annoying than any other question or statement ever in the history of childhood-
"Is that silly?"

I'm pretty sure if I ever snap and commit a heinous crime, it will be found that the reason I did so was because someone said "Is that silly?"

"Is that silly?" sounds kinda cute. It sounds fun and simple. It sounds like a game. "Is that silly?" is NOT a game, and no, its not fun. "Is that silly?" makes you want to stab your eye out at 2am.

It started simply enough. The Dictator would say something like "I put my shoes on my hands! That's silly!" and I would respond "Oh yes, you are so silly!" I didn't realize that like Pavlov I was training my little Dictator. "Is that silly?" was the bell. Me responding was the very enticing little treat, and the Dictator was quite hungry.  The Dictator was conditioning me for hours of 'witty banter' that would end in peels of laughter for her, and tear stained cheeks for me.

At first "Is that silly" was used just for silly things. "I'm walking backwards with a bucket on my head! Is that silly?" "I'm using my finger like a fork! Is that silly?" Yes, yes...those things are silly. I responded. I engaged! I was preparing my own silly little noose that would eventually hang me.

Now "Is that silly?" is used for everything. EVERYTHING! "I'm putting my milk in the fridge! Is that silly?" "I'm getting dressed for school now! Is that silly?" "I'm hungry for lunch! Is that silly?" No! No, no, no, no, no!!!! It's NOT silly!!!!!!!! Please, for the love of God, stop talking! I try to not freak out. I try to gently guide her towards another topic of conversation. I try to not scream "You are not silly! It's not silly! Nothing, NOTHING is silly!" Most days, I succeed. Other days, I go in my closet, close the door and quietly weep about how silly my life has become.

A few weeks ago, the non-sleeping Dictator crept into my bedroom. A tiny little face at the side of my bed looked at me sleeping, poked me until I woke up and then in a small little voice asked me "I'm not sleeping and I need you to go help me poop. Is that silly?"

In the past few weeks, I've been more accepting of the annoying phrase and it's place in our lives. I know it's a phase. I know she'll get bored of it. It's just a matter of time. Thank the dear Lord that I live in a country with quality hair dye, coffee, booze and bad t.v.. I will survive this.

I was feeling pretty good about everything until this morning. While getting the Dictator ready for dance class, she asked me "Is my leotard silly?" I responded "Sure. It's kinda silly?" The Dictator had a little smirk start to spread across her face. She looked at me and said "Well, WHY is it silly?"

I die.