So yesterday I went out with the three kids. Mac was working (shocker), and I was feeling ambitious and altruistic, figuring “I can handle this. I’m a good mom.” Plus, if I’m OUT of my house I don’t have to deal with the mess IN my house.
I know. I’m a thinker.
So we went to breakfast. Then we went to a craft store to pick out fabric for curtains I’ll never actually sew, and we walked around the 2nd-hand baby store (where I bitched about the prices, realizing I can buy the same shit for cheaper at Old Navy and it’s NEW)…then we went to a couple other stores, then Costco.
And really the little hoodlums were pretty good. I mean they’re kids, so they can’t be THAT good, but for kids, they were alright.
But by the end of our outing I realized something: My kids never stop talking. They never, ever, ever fucking EVER stop talking.
“Mama, do you think it’s weird when girls talk about boys they like?”
“Mama, why are we going this way? Can’t we walk to the next store? Why can’t we walk? I wanna walk. We never walk ANYWHERE. Why do we never walk anywhere?”
“Mama, can we buy this wooden chest of drawers for my doll clothes?”
“Mama, I love it when I fart in my underwear.”
“Mama, Georgia has a booger.”
“Mama, you never buy us anything.”
“Mama, how do the police tell the bad guys from the good guys?”
“Mama, how did the Russian Revolution start?” (Yes, Ava actually asked that.)
“Mama, how come Hitler used gas on the Jews when all the countries signed that agreement after World War I promising never to use gas again during war?” (and that too.)
“Mama, will I ever grow up as tall as daddy? How tall is daddy? Is he taller than an elephant? I want to be taller than an elephant. A crane is taller than an elephant. But what about a giraffe? Is daddy taller than a giraffe? A crane is taller than a giraffe for sure. Pretty much everything isn’t as tall as a crane. Right, mama? Is a crane taller than everything?”
And ON and ON and ON and ON.
And on.
And on.
And on.
Please give me a break. One break. Two minutes of silence.
Holy fuck do they EVER stop talking?
No. They don’t. They are relentless. I don’t think they breathe. They only talk.
When I’m with all three of them, there is always one of them making noise in my direction, needing me. Always.
Whether it’s whining or crying or wailing or squealing or talking…there’s always noise coming at me from the little people.
My husband can sit there and, by all appearances, not hear a single smidgen of it.
I on the other hand hear every single speck of chatter and feel compelled to answer each and every question they pose. [Unless it has to do with farts or poop or underwear. Most of those questions I let go unanswered, realizing the purpose is usually just to say the word “fart” or “poop” or “underwear” – any response being almost wholly irrelevant.]
I do okay at the beginning. But after a few hours…my Lord I’m tired of people talking at me. I’m an extrovert and all, but shit. Everybody’s got a limit.
And then I start giving one word answers and my daughter starts picking up on my impatience and I start feeling guilty so I try again but my heart’s not in it but they don’t stop because they actually physically cannot (by the way, is that some sort of ailment?)…so we just go on like that…forever….it’s all really quite a lovely little picture.
So I turn on music. Loud.
But they talk anyway. OVER THE MUSIC.
Sometimes I pretend I can’t hear them.
But they only TALK LOUDER.
Deep breaths. Mantras. “I am a rock in a stream.”
Yeah right. That shit never works.
I tried telling them once about the Dalia Lama stating that “senseless chatter” was a bad thing, clouding the mind and separating us from our Buddha nature. While it appeared promising at first, that particular strategy backfired miserably when they started accusing me of “doing senseless chatter” almost every time I brought up a subject they didn’t feel like hearing.
Oh well.
I know I’ll miss this in 20 years.
OR WILL I?
The only time I get any peace from the NOISE. Except wait a minute. Ava is not in this picture, which means she was probably with me. Talking. Talking to me. Talking to me endlessly. Shiiiiit.
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Dee
Saturday, 30 July, 2011 at 18:14Hehehe. I love the quiet game, but it never last more than 30 seconds around here. Seriously. The talking is such that I changed my ringtone so that when I get a call from home, it squeals like the pig in the Geico commercial. Because that sounds exactly like what I hear all the time.
renegademama
Saturday, 30 July, 2011 at 18:18HA! This made me laugh out loud for real. That’s so awesome I can hardly find words. well done, Dee!
Amanda M.
Saturday, 30 July, 2011 at 19:53I love it! And it is so true. I have a two year old that is still figuring out words and she already talks all the time, only I can’t actually understand all of it even though I try. I’ve never been very good with silence, but since I became a mother I actually enjoy it. I think this post explains why much better than I ever could!
kim
Sunday, 31 July, 2011 at 21:38What is it with first-borns being able to sense when we are becoming irritated? Isabella makes me feel like such a shitty mother for being able to do that. GAWD.
Kateri Von Steal
Monday, 1 August, 2011 at 8:26Awww! I know!!!!!!!! Never STOPS TALKING!!!!
I feel for you.
I feel like being committed based on all the non-sensical chatter I hear ALL THE TIME.
And, then, his teacher had the audacity to tell me, that Emry isn’t conversational with her at school.
WELL LADY, HE NEVER STOPS TALKING TO ME!
dani
Wednesday, 10 August, 2011 at 21:19I have no idea the number of things I’ve agreed to when not really listening but wanting to give them an answer just so they shut up.
It’s really pathetic.
renegademama
Thursday, 11 August, 2011 at 10:24Guilty. Sometimes I just mumble incoherently. If it works, I’ve scored.
Shan
Saturday, 20 August, 2011 at 19:35Mad’s three. She already knows, “Is that… so?” means Mama wasn’t really listening. Not that it matters. She asks questions six times each anyway.
Janine Kloss
Wednesday, 7 December, 2011 at 15:28I’m a mean mommy :/ I tell my kids that it’s quiet time because mommy needs a break and no ones allowed to talk for a while. Sometimes I seriously can’t handle all the noise… and I only have two!
Donna G
Thursday, 19 January, 2012 at 9:58I am a new reader and really enjoying your stuff. This post was particularly funny. I have 6 kids, and the youngest is now 13. I remember at his 3 month checkup that the doctor remarked that he was babbling already. I told him that it was a defense mechanism since none of my other kids ever shut up. We are now down to 2 kids at home – the 13 yo and a boomerang 23 year old, who is away most of the time. I miss the chatter.
mystic_eye_cda
Wednesday, 28 March, 2012 at 22:24I call my noise cancelling headphones my “Fortress of Solitude” – they aren’t earplugs so you have to actually have loud music on to block all sound, but my kids think that all the time I have them on I can’t hear them so the don’t talk to me… as much.
Lucy
Friday, 20 July, 2012 at 6:49Oh yes! So, so, so true – we have three, similar ages – god do they talk. Went to a parenting conference for my work and an “expert” there said a pre school child has a need every 20 seconds!
Christy
Thursday, 27 September, 2012 at 6:17I don’t think it will ever stop…I have older teens and the questions and chatter are still coming…it never ceases to amaze me.
Bunny
Sunday, 27 January, 2013 at 20:50I so relate to this…I’m such a great Mom I actually say “I CANNOT possibly answer one more question…sorry, but you’ve hit your limit for the day. No more questions until tomorrow.” It actually works..they just say “ok”…