This is meant with the most seriousness of seriousness. Kidding aside, exaggerations omitted.
Alivia has not shut up in approximately three and a half weeks.
Granted, there are the 11 or 12 hours her mouth is silenced by sleep each night, but during the day it does not stop. It cannot be quieted. It cannot be redirected. It cannot be subdued.
The ability for one little body to hold so much verbiage is simply extraordinary. We've reached the epic proportions that I'm willing to offer her up as a possible solution to the energy crisis. Harness the words for good, I say, her mouth's energy is astounding.
This precarious age she finds herself at is full of learning, discovery and excitement. I get it, I really do. I'm all for discussion of the positive kind ... experimenting, educating and socializing. However, even when she has nothing of substance to say, she fore goes silence for noise. Jabbering, mumbling, any type of noise her vocal chords can produce.
Three and a half weeks ago I tried to be patient, tried to listen to each question, comment and word. Today, not so much. After experiencing ringing (again, no exaggeration here) in my ears earlier this week after a day full of talking, I've begun tuning it out.
What a horrific mother, yes? Tuning out her own child.
But, in my defense I'm on the brink. I've never craved silence; a person's ability to not speak to me; or a deserted island far, far away from any other being before in my life. Just give me quiet.
I love that little pixie voice, honestly I do. I just need a little less of it. I use naptime to re-energize my ears. Having survived about six and a half hours of chatter already, they need something to get them through another five or six more. The only problem is she's taken to getting herself to sleep by ... talking. So, even when tucked away in bed for a hour or two of rest, I get to hear the epilogue over the monitor.
An end to this must be within hearing distance, I keep trying to convince myself. Although this week I've become much less optimistic. Surely, surely the days of endless poop questions, tattling and various redundant comments are numbered. At least my ears are hoping so.
P.S. Today I'm thankful for:
- a sister who looks out for me and lets me in on where I can score great Halloween costumes.
- Alivia's ability to speak ... despite my ringing ears, I know there are mothers out there who would only wish to hear such noise from their almost-three-year-olds.
- Trace's morning hug.
- Alysse actually making it to the potty three times this morning (a record for us).
- Alena's truly girlie girl nature.
- a husband who patiently listens to my midday rants even when he's not feeling well.
The toy department at Target doesn't have anything on our cardboard box delivered by the UPS man this afternoon and trusty cup of crayons.
Once the kids had tired of using the box as a boat, we collapsed it and made a long canvas on the living room floor. There were drawings of family members, radios and jeeps.
Thoughtful shapes and lines.
Priceless first scribbles.
Wonderful itty bitty doodles.
And a portrait of dad Alena created. She was thrilled to show him her masterpiece when he came home from work.
