Being a mom is a fascinating process. I often find myself full of wonder at the similarities and differences between my children and me.
My daughter, for example, is full of questions, ALL THE TIME. The other day I worked from home for a few hours in the morning. "Mom, do you have to do work?" "Mom, why are you working from home?" When I was getting ready to go in to work, that was another question. (Why do you have to work). There are questions about why I'm not carpooling this week (seriously). Or why our car is green, or why a friend's car is red. Or why she can't come to work with me. Usually, my answer leads to further questions. I'll answer something like "I'm not feeling well" and the next question will be: "But why not?"
At times, it can be exhausting.
I should not be surprised by her inquisitiveness. I remember asking my own parents why the sky was blue twice within six months. When they responded with - didn't you ask that six months ago? (Answering a question with a question, obviously they were pros). I explained - I wanted to see if the answer was the same.
So with each question, some wildly inappropriate questions, I take a deep breath and reflect. (Wildly inappropriate questions like, do you have children? why aren't you married? Why are you old? etc.) I try to explain about polite topics and things we don't mention because it may hurt someone's feelings. And I do try to answer questions when I can.
Believe it or not, I consider it one of my better traits. Even though my inquisitive nature might drive those I love crazy (and my current and past managers, teachers, etc). And something to encourage in my children.
My son discovered biking a few weeks ago. Much like his endeavors with drumming, he took to this bike (with training wheels) like a duck to water.
He spent hours, riding in circles on my in law's patio. Much like my daughter's questions, this doesn't shock me in the slightest. I've heard children like repetitive behavior. But a good part of the reason this doesn't surprise me is that I spent hours riding my bike as a child. I was older than my son, but we would ride laps around our residential street growing up. He might not continue riding bicycles as much as I did, but so far, his interest is strikingly familiar.