Silence is Golden

Have I mentioned how much talking hurts? I mean physically hurts. By the end of the day, I am in so much added pain just from talking. It might have something to do with the holes in my mouth at the edge of my jaw, but I'm no expert. I just thought that four days after my teeth were removed more of the pain would be gone.

I'm already in pain and corralling Gabe and then being peppered with his never-ending stream of repetitive questions on the way to my MIL's didn't help. I'm glad he wants to know everything about everything (to quote Sid the Science Kid), but damn, does he have to ask so many questions, while at the same time not listening to half the things I ask him? I have to ask the same thing of him 20 times before it gets accomplished. Weekday mornings our big battle is about him getting dressed.

"Gabe please take off your pajamas and bring me your pull-up" (he still wears one at night to protect against leaks).

"Gabe please bring Mommy your pull-up before I'm done changing Nick."

"Gabe, take off your pajamas now, and bring Mommy your pull-up."

"Gabe, if I finish changing Nick before you bring me your pull-up, then I will take off your pajamas myself and you can go to Grandma's naked" (notice the change from a polite request to threats).

I try to hold off using the naked threat as long as possible, since I would prefer Gabe got undressed without the use of threats. However, the naked threat usually gets the desired results. Gabe tries to take as long as possible in hopes that I will dress him, rather than making him do it himself. I used to stand there in his room or bring his clothes into our bedroom and waste lots of time arguing with him and waiting for him to get dressed.

Now, when I'm ready to go downstairs, I pick up his clothes and bring them with me. I have him follow me downstairs and I had him back his clothes. I then tell him if he is not dressed when Mommy is ready to leave he will go to Grandma's naked.

This morning he was not finished getting dressed until after I had Nick strapped in his car seat and had fetched him a toy. I really feel like a broken record. Of course, Nick doesn't help matters any, since he likes to take various items of Gabe's clothing, usually his shirt, and walk off with it.

In the car is when we start the never-ending stream of repetitive questions. His latest fascination is with our GPS system, "Mommy, where is the van on the map?"

"Gabe, you know the answer to this. What is the van on the map?" Because, y'know, he's asked and received an answer to this question like a million times already.

"The red arrow. Why is it a red arrow?"

"Because that's what it is."

"Where is our house on the map?" At this point we are halfway to my MIL's, and while we have our house marked, we can't see it any more.

"Gabe, we're too far from the house for it to show up on the map."

"Why Mommy?"

"Because the map only shows a small area."

"Okay. Mommy, where is your work?"

"We're not close to my building."

"But where is your building on the map?"

"Babe, we're not close enough to my building to see it on the map."

"Oh. Mommy, when we be at Grandma's?"

"When we get there. It takes the same amount of time every day." One does get tired of answering the same questions every morning. It's like deja vous every morning.

"Mommy, what you do at work today?"

"I'm not sure, Gaby. I haven't been to work yet. I think I have a meeting to go to."

"Mommy what Daddy do at work?"

"I'm not sure, honey."

"Ask Daddy when you talk to him on your computer."

"Okay Gabe."

Throughout this Nick is either yelling ma ma ma ma, da da da da, or just talking to him self.

"Mommy, Nick is calling you. Why he be calling you?"

"I heard him. I think he just wants my attention. Hi Nick."

At last we arrive at my MIL's. I drop off the boys who eagerly run to play with the waiting toys, and eat, stopping briefly to wave goodbye to me at the window. I am now finally free to either listen to the radio in the car or drive in silence. I arrive at work and am the first one in my office, and it is silent.

I love being a mom, but sometimes it is so nice to just have silence. And small children only seem to be silent when they are sleeping.