Endless, Inane Conversations

You know, when I first had Jonathan, I was shell-shocked. I would guess that every new mom is. You have no idea what you're doing, you're stuck recovering from one of the most painful and demoralizing (oh, and yet wondrous) experiences you'll ever have, you don't know dilly about breast-feeding or changing diapers or why the heck your little one sleeps all day and is up all night. You find yourself loving this little creature and yet, already, looking forward to the day they'll walk and talk and dress themselves and use the potty and basically become a functioning member of society - at whatever age THAT happens! Well, okay, at least I did all this. Now fast forward 4 years.

Jonathan. Does all those things listed above, except maybe isn't quite a functioning member of society yet - I'm not really even sure I am. Jonathan even has a little brother that I was a LOT less uptight about! But here's something I never signed up for: the almost continuous chatter, consisting of the most inane conversations you've ever heard. Don't get me wrong, there are moments of greatness (Mommy, make a left turn here to get on the highway!), moments of sheer joy (Mommy, I love you sooooo much!), and moments of guilt (Mommy, did you know Daddy was a moron?). Yeah, that last one was because he heard me say "You moron!" to Mark one day in fun....oops. Wonder how long it takes to un-learn a word AND it's context? But anyway, back to the matter at hand.

Just this morning, we went to church. We ate breakfast out, then drove home in the pouring rain. Got home, still raining, let's see, how to unlock a door, transport two little guys, ourselves, my purse, the diaper bag and my music/flute bag into the house....you know, the usual. We're situating ourselves - Mark ran to unlock the door, Jonathan undid his seatbelt and got out of his seat, I pressed the button to open the door to Matthew's side, then is started:

J: Mommy, why did you open Matthew's door?
Me: So Daddy can get Matthew out quickly.
J: But why?
Me: Because it's raining and we have to move fast.
J: But why did you close Daddy's door?
Me: Because it's raining and the seat's getting wet.
J: Why?
Me: Because rain is wet and it's raining, and if the door's open, the seat gets wet.
J: Where is Daddy?
Me: Opening the door, he's coming out for Matthew.
J: But why?
Me: Because I've got my hands full - can you get out and run inside?
J: But Daddy's door is closed.
Me: (near death) Well, go out Matthew's door.
J: I don't want to. I want to go out Daddy's door. Why did you close Daddy's door?

I'll spare you the rest. Yes, there was more. Once we got inside, it continued:

J: Can we stay down here (downstairs) and play?
Mark: Yes
J: Can Matthew go upstairs?
Mark: If he wants.
J: But I want Matthew to go upstairs. (So Mark takes Matthew upstairs)
J: DADDY! Don't go upstairs!
Mark: Well I brought Matthew upstairs...
J: I want Matthew to take a nap! (don't we all....)

By this time, I'm hiding, still recovering from the last round. And in case you were wondering, this goes on constantly in my house. Constantly. And if you don't answer the kid, he just keeps repeating himself. Yesterday, I cleaned out the inside of my mini-van - I'm talking vacuum, hot soapy water on all the seats, a brush on the stains in the carpet, Febreeze on the carseats and the upholstery - I even took the thing to the car wash! And in the process, I find tons of stuff, ticket stubs to things we went to a year ago, brochures, dirt, french fries, goldfish, crumbs, pennies, raisins, a million other goodies, and last but not least, 8 crayons. Somewhere in the process, Jonathan appears, and starts inventorying the stash. I don't think anything impressed him too much, except the crayons....
Mommy, I found crayons. Mommy, crayons! Mommy, look at the crayons! Mommy, I found crayons. Mommy, I have a crayon situation. Mommy, look, crayons. Mommy, CRAYONS! Mommy cray--"OKAY! Good, Jonathan, you found crayons, good." Mommy, where did these crayons come from? Mommy, are these crayons mine?

By this time, I'm rubbing my temples, wondering when the NEXT stage is going to start - you know, the one where your kid completely ignores you and you'll give anything to have a decent conversation with him. Why is it we always want what we don't have? My mom always tells me to enjoy it now - enjoy every minute because I can never have it back. Just wish I could remember that when it's actually happening. He's so cute, so innocent. God give me strength. At least Matthew doesn't talk much yet!