Because I’m the mother of one and prior to becoming the mother of one, I had never really spent much time with young children – I’m fascinated with the development process. Almost daily, I’m impressed by what V is learning, how he reasons, figures things out, conversations we have.

We found ourselves behind an ambulance yesterday.

“What’s the man doing?” asks V, referring to the EMT tending to a patient in the back of the ambulance. Thus begins a conversation where I am trying to explain to him what an ambulance is, what an EMT is, what they do, etc.

My first attempt at explaining this to him wasn’t so smooth. I don’t really remember exactly how I explained it, but it was above the comprehension level of a 3 year old. I should also mention that I don’t speak the English language very well. Born and raised here in the states, and raised by a mother who was a teacher for over 30 years, you’d think I’d be brilliant with words. But no. I don’t know if it’s some kind of early sign of alzheimers or what, but I often find myself at a total loss for simple words. Not more than a week ago I asked the Husband, “what’s this called?”, holding up a spoon. “Are you serious?” he asked. Sadly, yes.

So there I am trying to find my words to teach V all about ambulances. After I fumble through my explanation, V asks me:

“Would you please tell me again? I don’t understand”

I was floored. Not because he didn’t understand but because he understood enough to know that he didn’t understand. Understand? (sorry!)

I told him again – only tried to keep it as simple as possible, which is how my brain works anyway.

“Thanks, mom. I understand now!”

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