Mum Diary: Why do toddlers ask so many questions?

Before I had children, I used to daydream about being the mother of bright, interested youngsters who want to learn about the world. I pictured hours spent at the zoo, learning about the evolution of quadrupeds, and delightful long walks where we discussed politics and ethics.

Well, that might still come to pass, but right now my toddler Harry is as bright and inquisitive as you could hope for but it’s slowly driving me mad. He seems to ask about 100 questions an hour, varying from the simple 'Can I have a snack?' to the downright metaphysical, like: 'What are penguins for?' And if you don’t immediately reply, he will continue asking it over and over again, not even varying the tone of his voice, until you respond.

I decided to make a note of all the questions he asked in one day, but I ran out of energy for the project by the end of breakfast. Here are the questions I had to answer before I’d even had a cup of tea:

“Why did I dream?”
“Why did I dream about trains?”
“Do you like trains?”
“Can I be Spider-Man today?”

That one was about his choice of t-shirt, not his desire to fight crime.

“Is Spider-Man Superman’s best friend?”
“Why are shadows?”
“Can you carry Shankly downstairs?”

Shankly is his teddy, named by a Liverpool-supporting grandparent.

“Can I have porridge today?”

I’m not saying that all of his questions are unreasonable.

“Can I have Weetabix after my porridge?”
“Can I have some blueberries?”
“Can I have three yoghurts?”
“Why is Olly?”

Olly is his baby brother. I’m genuinely not sure if he forgot to ask the rest of this question or if he was looking for a more biological explanation.

“Do you like trains, Mummy?”
“Can I have some of your porridge, Mummy?”
“Why do you have tea?”
“Why are there butterflies on my bowl?”
“We love butterflies, don’t we Mummy?”

That’s where I gave up, as writing them all down was taking up too much time. All these questions require a full answer, or you get further questions. In fact, I have discovered that it’s safest to overload him with information to avoid the questioning spiralling out of control. A short response will elicit a further 10 questions.

[Mum Diary: A toddler’s sugar detox]
[Mum Diary: I've lost my brain-to-mouth filter!]

So, in response to ‘We love butterflies, don’t we Mummy?” I rhapsodised at length about why we love butterflies, marvelling at their beauty and ability to transform. He listened intently, solemnly spooning porridge into his mouth, until I ran out of words and stopped for a gulp of tea. Then he gleefully followed that up with: “Yes, and we love beetles too, don’t we Mummy? Why do we love beetles?”

Of course, for all that I am going slowly mad, I am delighted that my toddler has so many questions, and I try to give him as much information about the world as possible (when I’m not lying about fish in his radiator, of course).

And while nine-month-old Olly can’t talk yet, it’s really exciting to watch him start to communicate. He laughs and smiles, he ‘talks’ endlessly – a sort of babbling that sounds so much like talking that I could almost believe it’s a foreign language.

He’s perfected an ‘eh eh eh’ noise if he wants to get down, get up or be moved. He’s developed a sort of warning grunt he makes at Harry, if it looks like his big brother is about to nick his rice cake  - and he has long since perfected his howl of fury if Harry actually takes something of his.

Most wonderfully, Olly has started uttering little crowing noises when he’s happy – a sort of happy squeal that he can keep up for ages, usually when we’re all together making lots of noise and having fun.
 
I love that my little family is so chatty and I’d much rather have an inquisitive little toddler than a lethargic one. However, wondering if the incessant questioning would ever stop, I searched online and found that Littlewoods had carried out research into this last year. Apparently the average mum is asked nearly 300 questions a day by her offspring and this continues until they are 10.

If I answer 300 questions a day until my youngest is 10 then that will be more than a million questions! Still, I suppose that after that my sweet boys will become surly teenagers and I’ll have my revenge by asking questions about school and girls, over and over again.

What’s your experience of questioning kids? Does it ever stop? What’s the craziest question you’ve been asked? Share your thoughts with the writer and other readers using the comments below.