Confession

The incessant talking is making me crazy!

Please don’t get me wrong. I am grateful for this creature of God - beyond grateful. I am grateful that he is speaking and interacting and at times using manners by saying, “escuse me” when addressing the waitress or check-out girl. I am grateful that I have a healthy bouncing child who showers me with kisses spontaneously simply because he is happy. I am grateful…I am…really!

It’s just the talking…it never stops…never…as in constant, never-ceasing, continuously, forever and ever. There are times – like now, right now – that I have had him for days straight – three as of today, but who’s counting – and I am overwhelmed because I have heard, “Mommy?” more times than I think I can physically count.

(Chorus)
Mommy? Can I lick Duke?
Mommy? I’m firsty.
Mommy? I’m cold.
Mommy? What time is daddy going to be home?
Mommy? Is daddy at work?
Mommy? Is it dark outside?
Mommy? Daddy going to be home in the tiniest bit?
Mommy? I have to go poop.
Mommy? I’m done going poop.
Mommy? Look! Look! Look at my tongue.
I need to figure this out. I need more patience. I need tape.

Unfortunately, there are agencies that frown upon the use of tape on a small child. Although it very scary, the thought of a government agency knocking on my door or anyone else’s door for that matter, the thought of having to listen to a muffled (repeat chorus) could be worse so I think the tape is out.

Note - By the end of typing this post said small child called out, "Mommy?" which has thrown me into a fit of laughter.