Life has been in the fast lane the last few weeks, and there are so many things that I wish I had taken the time for to write down. Things that I think are the best things in the moment and then too easily forget. Perhaps I should start carrying a notebook to take notes so I can later translate them into stories. One thing I can remember now is that for the first time in all of Camia's 3 and a bit years someone told me how great and lovely it was that she spoke so much. Typically it's people looking at me with a tired expression and say 'Wow! Does she ever talk!' or something along those lines...I laugh because it seems like it's something that they are pointing out to me, as if I don't already know that my daughter is a chatterbox. I have learned to just smile and nod and continue on my merry way when comments as such arise, and try to not get snotty and say things like 'Really? I hadn't noticed.' So I am sure you can imagine my surprise when this sweet lady, a mother of 8 who I am sure has lots of experience in the constant babble department, state how wonderful it was that Camia for one second did not stop talking. I was so surprised, in fact, that I did not know how to respond. Smiling and nodding didn't seem a fair reaction since I use it for the opposite. So I said nothing at all and smiled instead.
My mom is hard of hearing, and has been for as long as I can remember. I used to get so frustrated with her because I don't like repeating myself three or four times to say one thing. Now, however, I am learning to sympathize since I am certain that I too will be deaf - or near there - when I am still young if it were not for my three year old. Sometimes I have myself convinced that I need to get her hearing checked because she is so LOUD when she talks. And then I touch anything that sounds anything remotely close to a chip bag or a candy wrapper and she comes running, which convinces me she, in fact, is not deaf or hard of hearing at all. I find myself constantly reminding her to use her inside voice when she talks. I was talking to my Mom about this since she often finds the need to remind me that I started talking at 1 1/2 years old and haven't shut up since. So my daughter gets it from me. I have a sister in law who is also very chatty and I've been told that she could not keep quiet for anything either, so I feel sorry for my daughter in that she has a double whammy. There is no hope. There is no cure. I will relish quiet time for the rest of my life. I will bask in it's glory when it comes, but I have also learned that I will welcome her chatter with open arms after said quiet. I learned this on Friday when I went to work and left Camia home with Ryan. My day was so quiet, and I could hear the radio in the car. It's amazing how when something annoys you so much sometimes, you can also painfully miss it too.
A word that Camia recently learned is 'why?' Why mom? I said no. Why? Put that away. Why? Clean up your toys. Why? It's the first word (other than a few profanities) that we have felt the need to banish from her vocabulary. It lasted for a week. I know she is just three, as most people feel the need to remind us (as if we didn't know that either, haha.), but we feel the desire to encourage Camia to ask intelligent questions, and to think about a question before she asks it, rather than simply rattling off 'why' at every chance. Because she was doing it without even realizing it. And what better time to catch her and train her different when it first happens rather than letting it go and trying to undo what we let happen because she is three? I think it's a good theory anyways.
While sometimes I find myself wishing that Camia was more mellow and quiet, I also find myself thanking God that she is healthy. I thank God that she is in my life. I thank God that while I can cry and be frustrated because of Camia in one hour, in that same hour I can laugh hysterically because of her too. I thank God because she is sweet, she is a toddler, she is a child. And I pray everyday for patience, to be kind, to be less inclined to get frustrated with her babble. And for the ability to bite my tongue when someone informs me that she is a talker, because deep down I know that they are not meaning to inform me, that they are stating a fact. But still. Really??? I hadn't noticed.
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