Parker never. Stops. Talking. My ears are physically wounded by her voice. They cower at the mere sight of her. They literally flinch when my eyes, all panic-filled, tell them she’s headed toward me. My mind tells them it’s going to be okay, this time will be better, this time she won’t hurl her misguided and unfounded, nonsensical string of words at me.
Wrong.
I’ve decided she’s the 4-year-old equivalent of all of my ex-boyfriends combined. She’s like, the worst boyfriend EVER. She’s super needy, but super finicky; cat-like in her adeptness at finicky. She’s all over me 90% of the time. Forcing me to give her upside-down Spiderman kisses every time I leave her presence (even in public- she’s a PDA lover). She makes me watch what she wants to watch or she whines until I give in. She tells me I’m beautiful, but criticizes my cooking. And this never-shutting-up-thing she has going on is seriously going to do me in- at least my sanity will be done in.
I’ve decided I need
to talk with her about this; the never-shutting-up-thing will be the battle I’m going to fight. I need to explain to her that this isn’t a humane way to live. Her voice, once thought of as so sweet and sugary, now pains my every ounce of being. So I mustered up the courage to have “the talk” with her and when I finally did, this is how it went:
“Parker, we need to talk.” She doesn’t know to loathe that statement yet.
“Okay Mom just one segund (second) can I tell you one more thing first, Mom when I was a little baby I lived in your belly and then in Jo’s belly and we were walking in the forest and we saw a baby bear and the bear was… was… the bear…. NO! Mom I don’t mean the bear I mean… are we going to Starbucky’s (Starbuck’s) I think I don’t like chicken nuggets anymore because Evie said her mom went to the UNITED STATES OF NAMRICA (America)! YES, MOM! That’s where she lives and I do, tooooo!”
“PARKER! Stop, please… let ME talk for just a moment, please…”
“What what Mom?”
“Okay, Little Miss P, here’s the thing,” as I reach over and touch her soft little arm (I read to do this when you’re having a serious discussion with someone so that person feels safe and secure ), “don’t take this the wrong way, because I really do love you and I love everything about you, but sometimes I feel that I just need some space… You know, what I mean? Like, I could use a little break from you- not for long! Just for a little bit. It’s not you… it’s me. I just need to focus some energy on myself for a little bit. And it’ll be great for you, too! You can really get to know yourself and who YOU are. I really do love you
, I’m just not sure that I’m IN love with you. So I need a bit of separation to get my bearings straight and figure my own head out. You know? It’s not personal at all. I love you so much and a break will only make us stronger.” Did I just give my daughter the BS break-up talk?
“I love you too Mom amen you say ‘amen’ to God sometimes. God made everything even cows and chocolate I put chocolate in the bird the plastic bird thing let’s do yoga I need my yoga pants on Mom I’m gonna go get ’em do you want to do yoga with me Mom Axl can’t do it he can’t touch my matt Mom seriously that gets me so mad he always takes my kitty and I don’t like that sometimes you wake him up and then I get so mad why do you wake him up can we watch Frozen the sun will come out tomorrow bet a yer buddom (your bottom) dollar that tomorrow they’ll be some do you know that song yes, you do you do Mom.”
I guess that BS break-up talk doesn’t work on anyone.
For now we’ll just continue to play the I’ll-give-you-a-thousand-dollars-if-you-stay-quiet-for-one-minute game, that game always buys me about 8 seconds of peace.
Sonny Hall lives with her husband, Matt, her 4-year-old sassy-pants daughter, Parker and her 20-month-old chubby little man, Axl in Golden, Colorado. They also have an appropriately named, Dr. Hannibal Lector, cat who brings lots of bunnies and moles to his family on a daily basis. The Halls enjoy a low-key life with their great neighbors and friends, drinking wine and swinging on homemade wooden swings hanging from trees in their backyard.
We hope you enjoyed part 2 of The Chronicles of Mommia from guest blogger SonnyGirl.
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