The biggest questions most moms have

I am in the midst of tearing through All the Light We Cannot See. Yes, I realize I’m about three years late on this one, but as a person who chooses their next literary conquest at the whim of the folks who set up the “If you liked this, then you’ll like this…” shelf at Target, I’m just going to blame fate for this one. Anyway, for those who’ve not yet read it, as a child, one of the main characters keeps a notebook full of questions – “Why don’t boats sink?”, “Will a magnet affect water?” and so on.  And it seems to me, that this is a good practice. Because there are a lot of “mom questions” in this world that cause my brows to furrow and my mouth to do this little twisted up thing; so many that I can’t keep track. 

But perhaps, if I write these mom questions down, I will be moved to seek out the answers and spend less time making the same “I’m sorry, what?” face over and over again.

So while Werner Pfennig’s childhood inquiries may be much more scholarly in nature, I have a few queries of my own that I would like answered:

How does one quantify toilet paper roll size?

As a fairly educated toilet paper consumer (I’ve been using it almost all my life) I find myself growing more and more confused as I meander down the paper products aisle at the grocery store.

Double roll. Mega roll. Jumbo roll. Giant roll.

I’m sorry, am I shopping for something with which to wipe excrement from my rear or discussing the different evolves of Pokemon?

Just what, exactly, dictates how much paper is on each roll? Is this something the FDA can look into? And while we’re at it – is anyone selling just a “roll” of toilet paper anymore? And if not, what the heck is our baseline?

How did I get on these mailing lists?

I understand that the Russians have effectively infiltrated my Facebook feed and can now read my every brainwave, and I’m okay with that. What I’m not okay with is whoever is selling all my personal information to the sneaky, slimeball people at the catalog factory.

Email spam I can deal with. One click and it’s in the “trash”, but issue after issue of hard-copy, real paper catalogs from American GirlJustice and Pottery Barn Kids – these this boy mom can do without.

I mean, talk about missing your target audience.

questions moms ask

Where does traffic go?

We’ve all had this experience: You’re sitting in standstill traffic. Kids screaming. Bladder ready to burst. When suddenly, the seas part and the traffic starts moving. No explanation. No signs of construction or an accident as you make your way down the highway. Nothing. The traffic is just gone.

And it’s not that you didn’t want the traffic to go away, but an explanation would be nice. A simple validation for the last two hours of your life that you wasted, sitting in a metal cylinder, doing nothing.

Although I suppose, sometimes the answer you get, isn’t the answer you want. Like that time a few Christmases ago when our family was trapped in the three hour traffic jam because a truck full of raw chicken over-turned a few miles ahead.

Is Mike Pence an android?

Stands to reason, right?

If my kids haven’t played outside yet today, what is that stuff under their nails?

My kids do not bathe every day. Because, aren’t like, natural oils and junk good for you? Also, isn’t bath time the biggest pain in every mom’s behind? The getting naked, the washing, the splashing, the toweling, the getting un-naked. It’s a whole thing. So we maybe tend to avoid it when possible.

Which is why I get extra frustrated when I see black stuff building up underneath my kids’ fingernails. Now, don’t get me wrong – we play outside as much as the next family, but there are definitely days when we are hanging out inside, watching movies and coloring. And on those days, where the heck is that black stuff coming from?

And do I even really want to know?

These are the things that keep me awake at night. Well these and the other 9,999,999 burning questions and uncertainties that bubble just beneath the surface of my consciousness.

But that’s motherhood for ya.