The Teacher Becomes the Student

"Where did you learn that?" I've been asking this question a lot lately. It seems my daughter has mutated into Google Girl, a walking, talking encyclopedia of preschool facts. All day long Lil' Miss Smarty Pants fires a barrage of "Did you know...?" questions at me. It's like living with a Snapple bottle lid.

She says things like, "Mom, did you know red and blue are colors of the rainbow and together they make purple?" or "Did you know dreams come from our head? Our head makes up stories while we're sleeping." Yesterday, while pushing her on the swings at the park she imparts more of her scientific knowledge to me, "Mom, when the sun's out it makes shadows on the ground. See?"

Who is teaching her this stuff? Her preschool teacher? Dora, maybe? And what kind of lousy excuse of a mother am I? Shouldn't she be learning this stuff from me? And while we're on the subject, since when did a cocoon become a "chrysalis"?

This morning as I was madly trying to squeeze some honey onto my toast she starts in again, "Mom, did you know bees make honey?"

"Yes, actually. I did know that one." (I am pathetically proud of myself for this achievement.)

"Did you know the bees use sunflowers to make it?"

Now I am very quiet. I intensely focus on buttering my toast, hoping she is not expecting some kind of response from me. I'm not sure about this one. My gut tells me she's giving false information, but her confidence is making me second guess myself. Deep inside my brain, the questions begin to swirl, "Bees use sunflowers to make honey? No they don't! Or do they...? I don't think so, but maybe they do... I don't know! I DON'T KNOW!!!"

Something tells me motherhood has a truckload of butt kicking in store for me.

To Walk is Human, To Swim Divine

Never in my lifetime have I witnessed such fear and pessimism about the future. The economic crisis, terrorism, and global warming have cast a dark shadow over many Americans and their dreams for the years ahead.

But recently, I discovered that for some (okay, for one) the future is much more grim than just melting ice caps and evaporating 401K's.

A few nights ago, I sat in the bathroom reading a magazine while Lil' Miss and Baby Dude were taking a bath. As she was assisting her Barbie mermaid dive in and out of bath bubbles, Lil' Miss looked up at me and excitedly announced, "Mom, when I grow up I'm going to be a mermaid!"

me: "Oh yeah?"

her: "Yeah!"

Not wanting to break her heart by revealing the mythical nature of mermaids, I decided to crush her dreams for the future instead. "Well, Honey, I don't think you can become a mermaid. I think you're either born a girl or a mermaid. It's either legs or fins."

her: "Oh..."

me: "Do you think you're going to be okay with a life of legs?"

her: "Yeah, I guess so..."

I've never seen such dejection on a four year-old's face. For Lil' Miss, this is the worst reality of the Great Recession. I know, kiddo. Bipedalism stinks.