Sunday, January 6, 2008

My Least Favorite Part

The single thing that is driving me the most insane about my son's toddlerhood is not the tantrums. It is not the weird likes and dislikes. It is not the defiance or the total disregard of consequences for any action that he can possibly come up with. It is his recently-acquired need to move and speak constantly.

Let me explain: He describes in real time every single thing he does or thought that goes through his head. Presently, he is spreading clothes around the dining room from the laundry basket, announcing that he wants to wear them. He is currently dressed, but that has not stopped him from draping a pair of my husband's khakis around his neck and attempting to insert his arm in one of his own t-shirts, while repeating over and over "Wanna wear. Wanna wear. Wanna wear. Wanna wear."

This has been going on since he lifted his head off his pillow this morning. Brush teeth. Brush teeth. Brush teeth. Drink juice. Drink juice. Juice gone. Eat toast. Eat toast. Eat toast. Toast gone. Need bacon. No bacon? Need bacon. Need bacon. No bacon? Need bacon. Take shower. Take shower. Take shower. Take shower. Watch TV. Watch TV. Watch TV. Watch TV. Eat sandwich. Eat sandwich. Need milk. Need milk. Need milk. Need fruit. Need fruit. Eat fruit. Eat fruit. Even at naptime, he got into bed saying "Taking nap. Taking nap. Taking nap. Taking nap."

I can't believe this is the same kid who wouldn't call me Mama until he was almost two. I can't believe I ever encouraged this insane howler monkey to talk. I can't believe I ever thought it might be okay for me to be a stay-at-home mother.

I can't believe it's still half an hour until bedtime.

I never thought I'd be so happy to see Monday morning come. I love my son, but I am not enjoying two-and-a-half so much. I feel a little guilty about what a miserable fucking weekend this was, because I think if I were a better, more patient mother, this would all phase me a little bit less.


abernier said...

Oh my, I'm so sorry he's getting on your Last Nerve! He does sound intense. It might help to repeat to yourself that this too is a phase that will soon pass. Obviously (duh!) he's very verbal, and (duh!) so are you, so maybe it's genetic. It's bound to serve him well in the future!

On a more practical note, can you take him out for a walk and have him tell you what he sees instead of what he's doing? Might be nice for you too, to kindly say "yes that's a bird" while you're breathing and walking and devoting the other part of your brain to other thoughts.

Good luck! (Your description of his talking is actually very funny to read for those of us NOT experiencing it firsthand, all the time!)

merseydotes said...

Ah, yes, the endless narration. Sorry; it's definitely annoying.

Treen said...

I know that that would probably drive me nuts if I were in that situation...but from the viewpoint of somebody who never wants kids, it made me crack up.

I'm pretty sure I did that sort of stuff through my entire childhood, since I was basically born talking...My poor parents. I live in fear of the obnoxious things that any child Gerry and I had would do.