Pants-Free Parenting: It’s OK to say ‘I don’t know’ to your kids

‘Mom,” my daughter said, as we drove to dance class, 'why is our car not made in America?”

I pretended not to hear. 'Oh look, trucks!” I said pointing out the window. 'That's cool.”

'Daddy said our car was not made in America. Why?”

I sighed and cursed my husband under my breath. Honestly, I knew the answer, sort of - market forces, the value of currency, the cost of labor, something, something Industrial Revolution. But how do you explain that to a 4-year-old?

'Because it's cheaper,” I said.

'Why?”

It was 9 a.m. I had only managed two swallows of coffee before I had to get the kids out the door. I had been kicked in the shins by the baby, and yelled at when I had dared to suggest that the plastic sticker of lipstick that was affixed to the 4-year-old's vanity was actually not real lipstick so her brother couldn't ruin it. But sure, Economics 101. I took a breath and rambled a long-winded explanation of the cost of labor, dipping a little into the Industrial Revolution.

This is my finely honed tactic to shut my kids up. Sometimes it works. Like when I explained to my daughter that menstruation was cells sloughing off the walls of my uterus. Technically, it's correct. But she has no idea what it means, so she walked away and I declared victory - until the next week, when her teachers at school told me that she was telling people 'pieces of mommy were in the potty.”

My economics lesson wasn't so successful. When I ended with a comment on unions. I was met with a 'Why unions, Mom?” I ignored her. But she persisted, asking 'Why unions?” over and over until I strapped on her tap shoes and shoved her into the dance studio and yelled, 'To protect the workers, sweetie!”

As I looked through the glass into the studio, I could see her mouth, 'Why?”

Of course I knew this phase was coming. And actually, she's been wondering why since she was 2. Why can you see the moon during the day? Why are clocks clocks? Why are my toes not pretty like the other mommies' toes? At first these questions were charming. And I loved being able to explain the finer intricacies of the world - why leaves turn green, why they fall off and die.

I try to be clear, honest and as scientific as possible. But it's been two years and the questions aren't abating. And honestly, I don't know why time moves in minutes or seconds or hours. Or why you just need to cry sometimes. Scientists and philosophers are still searching for these answers and here my 4-year-old is, in my bedroom at 5 a.m., demanding that I deliver some sort of clarity on why some people don't believe in heaven.

I'm on the verge of an existential breakdown. Plato, that famous Greek philosopher who demanded that we question everything, wasn't a genius, he was just a 4-year-old who never learned to shut up. And while I'm happy that my daughter is interested in the world, I just wish I didn't have to explain the riddles of deep space before I have pants on.

Ultimately, my daughter's questioning isn't frustrating because of her insistence, it's frustrating because it reveals how little I actually know. I don't really know where fish go when they die or if the cat in our neighborhood is homesick for his mommy. I don't know where the fairies hide. I don't know why Mars is so far away or if an ant can hear your thoughts.

I want to give her a world of clarity - a place where she feels secure and firm. But the more she asks, the more I realize I will just have to say to her, 'I don't know, but I hope we can find out.”

Because in the end, it's the only answer I have to the question, 'Why?”

' Lyz Lenz is a writer, mother of two and hater of pants. Email her at eclenz@gmail.com or find her writing at LyzLenz.com.