Incommunicado

What we have here, is failure to communicate. I am trying really hard, but failing to communicate with a four-year old. For most of her short life, Scotlen has asked questions that are easily answered. Where are my dinosaurs? Do I have to go to bed? Why do I have to go to bed? And the occasional question that made no sense – e.g. “when does the person not do for the trees in the sky” – was easily dispatched with a response of “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re asking me.”

But recently, things are starting to get a little more difficult. She’s asking tough questions. These questions make sense and the answers actually matter. Unfortunately, my ability to answer the questions in a four-year old’s language is faulty. I feel like there’s this big gaping chasm between the answer and the proper way to explain the answer. And I’m wandering around out here with the answers but there’s no bridge to the other side.

For example, the other night, Scotlen asked, “why does Darth Vader want to rule the galaxy?” A good question. And the good teaching answer is that Annakin Skywalker gave into many of the things that tempt all of us, a desire for control, a fear of the vulnerability that comes with love, and most of all, the desire for power. But how do you put this when talking to a four year old? The best idea I came up with was the lame and vague – “because some people want to have a lot of power.” Nice.

But here’s one that’s even more important. More important than Darth Vader, you ask? Indeed. We were talking about Christmas on the way home from school last week. Here’s how the conversation went:

Me: Why do we celebrate Christmas – whose birthday is it?

Scotlen: Santa!

Me: No, remember, it’s Jesus’s birthday. And we decorate and celebrate and thank God for sending us his little boy.

Scotlen: Are we going to have a party for Jesus?

Me: [Starting to sense some trouble] Um, yes.

Scotlen: Is Jesus going to come to the birthday party? I want to surprise him with my stick.

Me: That’s really nice of you Scotlen. Jesus is always with us and will be there at the party [now, all of a sudden, there’s a birthday party], but you won’t be able to see him.

Scotlen: Huh?

Me: Well, um, Jesus will be there, but he will be there in spirit.

I knew, immediately that this was the wrong thing to say. Spirit is the name of Scotlen’s plastic riding horse, so I am sure I gave her the impression that, sometime during this birthday party that we’re now having, Jesus was going to emerge from inside the horse, like some sort of Marilyn Monroe. So that explains the long pause followed by another, “huh?” At a loss, I threw Mimi under the bus – “um, let’s ask Mimi when we get to her house.”

Does anyone know where I can get some sort of toddler translator for these conversations? I feel like I’m either turning Scotlen into a moron, convincing her that I’m a moron, or both.