What have I told Noah?
Sep 14, 2001 Ancient Archives, Parenting
Some people have asked what I’ve told Noah about what’s going on.The short answer? Nothing. I’ve told him nothing. The long answer? Noah has really only heard the very first report I caught on NPR and just a snippet of that. At that point they were reporting that smoke was coming from the White House. I flipped the radio off (I was on the phone and didn’t want him hearing what the caller was telling me and what I was sure the news was reporting). He asked me if the White House was on fire and I said I didn’t know but that if it was, the firefighters would come and put it out. Since then we haven’t watched television or turned on the news when he’s in the room. We have talked about it but have been really careful about talking “in code.” You know, “Brett, did you hear about the one guy? The one on the p-l-a-n-e in Pittsburgh? I guess he helped divert it.” Then we nod meaningfully at each other. He did report to Brett that there had been a fire in the “lighthouse” but that the firefighters had put it out.
Now I’m no fool and neither is my kid. I know that children are masters at deciphering parent-code. For example, I asked Brett over Noah’s head (Noah was deeply involved in his “loobies” which is what he calls his rubber lizards), “Are you still comfortable f-l-y-i-n-g?” Later that night, Noah asked, “What is that daddy’s comfortable doing?” I told him flying because Daddy had said yes. Actually it’s because we have to get on a plane (in theory, it looks like we’ll be able to) in about a week that I’ve been doubly cautious.
I check in with Noah every night anyway. His favorite thing to do (after we read two picture books and one chapter in a chapter book) is cuddle up together and ask each other “queer questions.” That’s what he calls deep discussion. Queer questions from Noah have included: “Where was I before I was in your uterus?” and “How do they build the middle of bridges without falling down?” I ask him queer questions, too, which is supposed to be questions he knows the answer to and I don’t. I usually ask him about preschool, “Why do you have round crackers for snack?” or “Why did the teachers put out the yellow playdough?” The point of queer questions is to give him an opportunity to ask me about anything that’s been nagging at him. If I know something’s going on, I steer the questions that way, like I’ll say, “You’ve been talking a lot about Daddy’s poison ivy. Are you wondering about that?” I’ve asked him indirectly what he thinks is going on, why he thinks mommy and daddy are acting a bit weird, etc. and it’s pretty clear to me that he’s oblivious to the actual disaster. He is much more concerned about having started preschool this week.
Man I feel pretty damn lucky to have a child whose biggest concern is whether or not he’ll go to the climbing room tomorrow at preschool.
