I’m three for four

Three of my four kids are now officially extreme talkers. 

My 6yo son is fairly quiet, usually, but my other two boys would talk to a rock if no one with ears was available.  Audrey, who is 2 years and four months, is quite the talker, too.  The conversational differences are dear to me.  She makes everything a family.  She turns peas into a Mommy Pea and a Daddy Pea and all the Children Peas.  She plays family with her fingers, even using a different voice for Daddy Finger and Baby Finger.  It’s sweet.

Every parent of a toddler has gone through this:  We’re transitioning to her toddler bed.  For the most part, it has worked well.  What hasn’t worked fantastically is her bounding out of bed an hour+ before the kids’ wake-up time, and not understanding why she just can’t go around and wake everyone up.

My policy is this:  Anyone who wakes up before 7:00 needs to just roll over and try to go back to sleep.  After 7:00, they can get a book, but have to get back in bed.  At 7:30, they may emerge from their bedrooms, and the day starts.

Today, Audrey woke at 6:15.  At least, she just hollered for me;  she didn’t come into my room and wake me.  (I usually get up between 6:30 and 7:00.)

Yesterday, she got up at 6:40.  I was awakened to her shrill voice in my ear, “Mommy!  I waked up!!!”

I ushered her back into her room, shushing her, as all of her sibs were still asleep.  She didn’t go back to sleep, but she was relatively quiet, just waiting in bed.

At 7:00, I brought her bottle into her, which is always met with the most heart-warming gratitude.  I sat down by her bed, stroking her hair, telling her I loved her.

She responds, “I love you, Mommy.  I love you, too.”

[pause]  She propped herself up on her elbows, and said with an air of seriousness and confidentiality, “I like to talk, Mommy.”  Another pause, to allow this to sink in.  Then, “I not like you say ‘stop talking’.” 

She was so serious about the whole thing, but I couldn’t help it.  I about busted a gut, laughing.  She just kept her lips pursed, waiting for me to take her seriously.  Finally, I managed, “You didn’t like it when I brought you back to bed, and was telling you to stop talking, to be quiet because the boys were sleeping?”

Very gravely, “No.  I not like that.  I need to talk.”

“Well, you speak very well, and I like to hear you talk most of the time.  But sometimes, it’s the right thing to be quiet, especially when people are sleeping, OK?”

Not convinced, she nonetheless agrees, “OK.”

I left her room, still laughing.