Breathe In, Breath Out, Repeat

I truly do adore the sound of Charlie's little voice.  So much so, in fact, that the only voicemail saved on my phone is one of him telling me he loves me.   Nevertheless, it is slowly becoming apparent that there is such a thing as too much of a good thing --- waaay too much.

Daddy had to go to a business dinner this evening, so tonight's walk around the neighborhood was just Charlie, Otis and me (there is no way I can handle the stroller and both dogs).  It went something like this:

"What's that, Mommy?"
"Where he going?"
"What's in Bob's hand?"
"Airplane!  I don't see it!  I see it!"
"Who's truck, Mommy?"
"What's the green girl doing?" (green shirt)
"Who pooped in that yard?"
"Where my Daddy?"
"Where that car going?"
"That's like Bob's mower!"
"Who lives there, Mommy?"
"Whose trashcan, Mommy?"
"Why trashcan open, Mommy?"
"Whose garage, Mommy?"
"I need my sunglasses."
"Where my book?"
"What's that, Mommy?"
"Where Miss Corrisa?"

So, that represents approximately 30 seconds of our 45 minute walk... Of course, it didn't help matters, that this followed the most frustrating conversation of both Charlie's 2 year old and my almost 34 year old lives. 

After willfully disobeying my instruction to bring me his water after he dumped out mine, then running down the driveway, Charlie found himself in time out.  Our strategy with time out is to get him to  understand why he's there before we release him. 

I could get Charlie to agree to the fact that he needs to obey Mommy and Daddy.  I could even get him to answer the question "What do you do when Mommy & Daddy tell you to do something?" with "I do it," but he stubbornly refused to add "right away" to the end of that statement, over and over and over again.  He can obviously say both of those words, but flat out refused.  So after a few deep breaths, a prayer for wisdom for me to communicate and for him to understand, and a few more tries, I gave up, half-heartedly convincing myself that Charlie is just too young to understand, not merely too stubborn to agree.

Rumor has it that as a small child, I, too, had a wide vocabulary, clear enunciation, the ability to speak in sentences, a voracious curiosity about the world, and a stubborn streak, but bottom line, I liked the sound of my own voice and thought I knew best. While I don't believe in karma, I do believe in DNA. 

Therefore, it will likely be a very long time before I hear that fabled "sound of silence" in the presence of my beloved son, and while I know that the me of 12 years from now will wish she could reach back in time and slap me upside the head for even thinking this, I have to admit that part of me is looking forward to the sullen teenage years when we have to plead with him to even acknowledge our presence, much less talk...a small part, but still a part.

P.S. Dad, I apologize if this made you laugh so hard that you spit coffee all over your computer, and I sincerely apologize for my childhood!


Update:  (15 minutes later)
Ok, I take it all back.  Well, not take it back, but I certainly just learned a lesson.  After a bedtime story and prayer, Charlie just asked me to sing "Jesus Loves Me" and chimed in on the chorus.  In my heart, I do truly pray that he is still doing this 12 years from now -- but I also pray for the patience and wisdom to get me from now to then!