Pochemuchka

I learned a new word today – it’s a Russian word, Pochemuchka, which translates as “a person (usually child) who asks too many questions” (or “person who talks too much”, according to Writers Magazine, but I think they’re less correct!)

 

This is ABSOLUTELY a word that would have been applied to me – with either definition – as a child, and one which could be applied to both of my sons, with their always busy minds and their never still lips.

I swore I’d never be a parent who said “just because” or “because I said so” – that I would give my children my attention, my time, my focus, every time they requested it, so their questions were never left unanswered – and that, when I was baffled, I’d find the answer for them, with them – and I try, truly I do, but I think the greatest gift I was ever given was a CD of Encarta ’95 – and as time has moved on, I have gifted my sons the magic of “this is how to Google that…”

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It backfires at times when my 9yo, the walking embodiment of World’s Biggest Ego, tells me I’m wrong about something, then backs himself up with facts and evidence (so frustrating…) but the world is so crammed with knowledge, and their minds are sponges, so ready to soak it all in.

This week, I learned a new word – and tomorrow, when they wake up, I’ll teach it to my sons – probably call them it affectionately (in place of “stinky butt”, their current shared moniker) and in return, they will babble their new knowledge at me, forgetting that I’ve been their age and discovered all these things already – and I will have to remind myself that they haven’t and so have the benefit of magic, the world being full of new things, excitement, and wonder.

This week my eldest, at 9, has discovered that he rather likes football, that you can enjoy a thing even when you aren’t personally very good at it, and that the camaraderie of shared happiness can lift the whole country. He has also discovered The Hobbit, and that being on stage fills him with happiness, and he might like to do more drama.

My youngest, at 7, has FINALLY discovered the mind-blowing magic of Tooth Fairies, of celebrating someone else’s moment in the spotlight, and that he, in fact, does not much care for football, but rather likes the fast cars.

And I have discovered a new word which has reconnected me to my childhood self, and to the innocent marvel my babies feel for learning new things, and made me think that I need to take the occasional moment to just listen to them, hear them, and remember that this is their first time here, and the world is a wonderful place.

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