Where does it come from? Is there such a thing as a talking gene? Do you have it?
Because my daughter definitely has it.
I do not.
I am an introvert. When I wake up in the morning, the first thing I like to do is put a nice cup of coffee in my hands and just sit. Quietly. In silence. Slowly allowing my brain to begin firing all it’s tiny little synapses. Every so quietly and slowly, my brain begins shaking off the cobwebs of sleep and becomes aware of the day. A nice cup of coffee. Quiet. Still. Silence. Wonderful.
Our daughter is not an introvert. She is an extrovert. She does not wake up quietly. As a matter of fact, when I wake her up in the mornings, the way I can tell she has been fully roused is when I can get her little mouth to start producing words. It doesn’t take long. It’s usually the very first part of her body that wakes up. The rest of her body may look like it still wants to sleep, but once that little mouth has been set in motion, it’s a 100% guarantee that she is up for the day. Look out world - she is up! Give her another 4 minutes and her mouth is running double-time. Talk talk talk talk talk talk talk.
As I sit downstairs savoring the morning sunrise with my quiet cup of java, I cannot escape the words that slide under her bedroom door and down the stairs. Lots of words. Imaginary conversations with friends. Singing. LOTS of singing. And dancing. Suddenly the door opens and she thunders downstairs and the questions begin. LOTS of questions. She has the gift of pulling people into conversation. She LOVES to talk. Sometimes the door opens early and a cacophony of questions and accusations fly my way as she is looking for a lost item or something has broken.
My silence is lost. I still haven’t gotten to my second cup of coffee yet - the one that begins unlocking the muscles that work my mouth. My brain hasn’t yet begun firing up the computer program that produces speech. It hasn't booted up yet. I need more time.
But alas, I do not have more time. I must push myself forward into speech with this child who is a running litany of words.
If only I didn’t love her so much. If only she hadn’t wrapped herself so completely around my heart that I wouldn’t be willing to set my own desires aside in order to meet her where she is. This precious gift that she is.
…But sometimes I just need a little silence with my cup of coffee.
Because my daughter definitely has it.
I do not.
I am an introvert. When I wake up in the morning, the first thing I like to do is put a nice cup of coffee in my hands and just sit. Quietly. In silence. Slowly allowing my brain to begin firing all it’s tiny little synapses. Every so quietly and slowly, my brain begins shaking off the cobwebs of sleep and becomes aware of the day. A nice cup of coffee. Quiet. Still. Silence. Wonderful.
Our daughter is not an introvert. She is an extrovert. She does not wake up quietly. As a matter of fact, when I wake her up in the mornings, the way I can tell she has been fully roused is when I can get her little mouth to start producing words. It doesn’t take long. It’s usually the very first part of her body that wakes up. The rest of her body may look like it still wants to sleep, but once that little mouth has been set in motion, it’s a 100% guarantee that she is up for the day. Look out world - she is up! Give her another 4 minutes and her mouth is running double-time. Talk talk talk talk talk talk talk.
As I sit downstairs savoring the morning sunrise with my quiet cup of java, I cannot escape the words that slide under her bedroom door and down the stairs. Lots of words. Imaginary conversations with friends. Singing. LOTS of singing. And dancing. Suddenly the door opens and she thunders downstairs and the questions begin. LOTS of questions. She has the gift of pulling people into conversation. She LOVES to talk. Sometimes the door opens early and a cacophony of questions and accusations fly my way as she is looking for a lost item or something has broken.
My silence is lost. I still haven’t gotten to my second cup of coffee yet - the one that begins unlocking the muscles that work my mouth. My brain hasn’t yet begun firing up the computer program that produces speech. It hasn't booted up yet. I need more time.
But alas, I do not have more time. I must push myself forward into speech with this child who is a running litany of words.
If only I didn’t love her so much. If only she hadn’t wrapped herself so completely around my heart that I wouldn’t be willing to set my own desires aside in order to meet her where she is. This precious gift that she is.
…But sometimes I just need a little silence with my cup of coffee.
