Friday, April 22, 2011

Mummy, Mummy, Mummy

A man whose name is TalkativeImage via WikipediaOh my!  We'd forgotten.  What is it about being a parent that makes you forgetful? Or is it just age? Don't answer, I don't need to know.

There's a gap between our boys; almost 5 years. That's just beyond long enough to forget the torturous effect a new baby can have, in fact it's almost long enough for a rosy picture postcard to replace real accurate memory.

We forgot something else too.  It became apparent the other night as we drove to a restaurant.  Our youngest talked at us from the moment he entered the car, all through the journey and he didn't stop until he was eating dinner.  Lynn & I laughed hysterically as we suddenly remembered that our oldest boy had done the far as we can remember he talked non-stop for about 4 years!   Even now, don't ask him about Pokemon or Bakugan unless you're sitting comfortably.

We laughed hysterically, in that way, you know when something isn't really funny.  Like that inappropriate laughter that sometimes appears at points of great fear or distress.  It was good to laugh then, but now a week has passed and we're not laughing anymore.  At times I wipe next to my ears to see if they're bleeding or slowly oozing my mojo.

Now he has stopped continuously talking, he only talks whenever we are trying to concentrate or discuss something ourselves.  If you haven't experienced this yourself, then it's difficult to describe but I'll try...

I'm cooking dinner for my boys.  Lynn doesn't get home for another hour or so.  Nothing too elaborate, just some pasta.  The water is just coming to a boil and I'm grating some cheese.  The persistent one runs into the kitchen, almost knocking me over by grabbing onto my legs.  Luckily he's never been one for the pitter patter of tiny feet, more like there's a baby rhino charging at me.  So I'd braced myself for the impact and had let go of the pot of boiling water.  "MUMMY, MUMMY, MUMMY, I'M HUNGRY!"  I mention that he has mistaken my identity.  "DADDY, DADDY, DADDY, I'M HUNGRY!"  I mention that I'm making pasta.  "I DON'T WANT PASTA!  I WANT SOMETHING FROM THERE." He gestures towards to the cupboard, the one where we keep the treats, the one where we thought he couldn't reach till he ran and bounded up onto the counter top.  He starts to climb next to the boiling pot of water...

Even as I write the description, I get tense.  However, by writing it I've realized what is going on.  He doesn't continually talk at all.  He continually shouts at us, like some sort of drunken sergeant major in a bar room squabble.  So far I'm winning the war, but not all of the battles.  He has found that his toys tell Daddy that they don't like his behavior, and then Daddy helps them to take temporary 'leave.'  He didn't believe that Buzz would leave, till he heard our burglar alarm chime that a door had opened...  I know, I'm cruel, but Buzz will soon have to face up to his obligations and return, no matter what his feelings are. ;-)
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