I Just Want To Talk

Miller woke me up at 4:30 this morning. He saw the streetlight shining between the cracks of his blinds and thought it was daylight.

As I laid in his bed next to him hoping (in vain) that he’d fall back asleep, I thought about how much I want to talk.

Yesterday we met friends at the park to play. I want to talk with my girlfriend without the interruptions associated with a play date – safety on park equipment, snacks, searching for anthills, and watching the big kids who are playing with our littler ones.

We do talk, of course, but conversation is limited. Interruptions are one thing, small ears are another; I’m not about to bring up adult stuff I really want to talk about.

Mark worked late last night, so Miller and I went to my mom’s house for company and a change of scene. Company is nice and all, but I want to talk.

I want to fill my mom in on some of the latest in my life (by latest I mean things that’ve happened in the past month. That’s how little adult conversation I have with her.)

I attempt to tell mom a story. Not just a this-is-what-we-did-today, but an actual story with a beginning, middle, and end complete with protagonist and climax.

I’d just put batteries in a light-up, self-driving police car that Miller was beyond excited about. That’ll keep him occupied, right?

Yes. And also no.

Every minute or so I was on my belly with the yardstick fishing the damned thing out from under the furniture.

Once I threatened the “if that happens one more time!” Grandma used pillows as barricades to keep the car from going under the couches. Problem solved, right?

Wrong.

“Mom, put the track together!”

“Mom, build ramps for it!”

“Watch this! Watch this! Mommy watch!

Do you remember in Little House On the Prairie books how children sat unnaturally still on hard wooden benches at church? How they didn’t speak until spoken to at the dinner table?

How Did They Do That?!?! I can’t even get through a story!!! And this isn’t idle babble. This is something I want to share with mom.

Bye-bye police car. I park it on top of the microwave and, in desperate tones, tell Miller how all I want to do is finish talking to grandma without him interrupting.

He didn’t talk for another three minutes when I told him I was finished talking.

I was so sick of the whole thing I cut the story off early. Ended it. Didn’t get to fully express what I wanted so badly to get out. Mom didn’t know the difference.

We sat on the floor and played with beads – one of Miller’s favorite pastimes at Grandma’s.

It’s now 5:30 a.m. Miller and I abandoned his room and moved to the couch.

I just want to talk. I want to tell a story top to bottom in one steady stream of dialogue. I want to have an adult conversation without little ears present.

Maybe this is why people see therapists. They can pay someone to sit and listen without kids being present.

It’s certainly one reason to blog. For the past hour I’ve spoken few words, but I’ve said a lot. I’ve expressed something.

And if you’re still reading this…thanks for listening.

This is where I wrote this post, holding my phone above Miller’s head, and typing with thumbs.

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4 thoughts on “I Just Want To Talk

  1. Courtney Just says:

    Jamie – i relate to this on sooo many levels! The ‘notes’ app on my phone is currently my therapist. When i get so frustrated and need to talk but either little ears are around or the people i need to talk to are not there – i type away all my thoughts and feelings on those notes. Let’s get sitters sometime so we can have an hour or so of adult conversation! Miss you.

    Like

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