The Heckler

Austin has a nickname. I've dubbed him "The Heckler". It doesn't matter where I am in the house or what I'm doing, he just constantly seems to be talking "at" me. I've given up on watching t.v. until he is in school full-time.

I've never seen anyone else who can just talk on and on for hours on end. I think I've mentioned before that he talks more than any woman I know. Sometimes I just want to cover my ears and run screaming from the room. (So far I've controlled myself but it's getting close to the breaking point.)

Last week we negotiated back and forth for over 30 minutes about how long I would play with him. I think we discussed playing longer than we actually played.

Here's a conversation that actually happened:

Austin: "Mom, will you play cars and blocks and legos with me."

Me: "Honey, I can't. I have to go somewhere in a half hour. I can play cars with you or read you a story."

Austin: "Well, will you play cars and blocks and legos and let me drink one of your "emergency" drinks." (He's talking about Slim Fast. I keep cans of it in the car in case I can't get something to eat in time. I have bad blood sugar. Once I told him it was just for emergencies and now he thinks everything is an emergency.)

Me: "No, I need to leave soon and I'm still getting ready. Go pick out a book and we'll read it."

Austin: "Mom, ok, let's do this. You get ready and then I'll get the toys and then we'll drink TWO emergency drinks."

Me: "Austin, let me get ready. If you don't give me a couple of minutes then I won't have any time to play with you."

Austin: "Ok mom. Give me the emergency drinks and we'll talk about it."

Me: "NO! This is not an emergency, but it will be if you don't stop talking to me."

Once again, I won't be winning any "Mother of the Year" awards.

(Don't you love the skeleton pajamas? The bones glow in the dark. It is kind of disconcerting in the middle of the night to see the pile of bones all curled up on my bedroom floor when I get up to let the cat out.)