Make Her Stop, Please!

I love my daughter. I really do. She is always ready with a hug or a kiss and she tells me the things I like to hear like, “You’re the best mom, ever,” (which usually means she wants something, but hey, I take what I can get).

But the child is seriously driving me nuts. She walks in the door after school and I say, like any responsible parent would, “Hi Honey. How was school today?” And then it happens. She just starts talking and I can’t keep up, probably because I’m not doing caffeine very much any more.

Here’s what it’s like:

School was really good today. Autumn and I are going to get beetles when we’re old enough to drive and mine’s going to be that sparkly blue color and I think it probably will be a convertible so I can drive to the shore with the top down which should make you happy because I’ll have to put my hair up or else it will be whipping in my face and I won’t be able to see when I’m driving and that’s not a good thing and Autum’s not sure what color she’s going to get but it’s going to have Tinkerbell everything in it because she really, really likes Tinkerbell and I think she might even be obsessed with Tinkerbell because in her room there’s Tinkerbell pillows and Tinkerbell statues and Tinkerbell blankets and everything Tinkerbell and, well, yeah.

Notice the lack of punctuation? That’s EXACTLY how she talks. But wait. She’s just taking a breath. Let’s see what she says next, okay?

The boys on the bus aren’t very smart because they keep doing stupid things and the bus driver makes them sit in the front and all the girls get to sit in the back because, you know, girls rule, and when the boys were sitting in the back they got into these Mentos wars and I turned around to tell them to stop and someone threw one at me and it hit me right above my lip and it hurt and I told them they were acting like booties and I saw the Mentos on the floor and some of them were saying, “Hey, give that to me,” and instead I stepped on it and crushed it and they were all like, “I can’t believe you did that,” and I was like, “Well I did so what are you going to do about it”, which pffftttt, they’re not going to do anything about it and besides they have to sit at the front of the bus now anyway because they can’t act their age and OH MY GOSH I saw a picture of these shoes I want cause, yeah, they’re so cool and they’re green and they’re Sketchers and do you know how much Sketchers are because I really like them but I know you’re going to tell me to save my money and that reminds me I think Shelby and I are going to start a baby sitting service this summer but we have to take some classes to teach us how to be good babysitters and her church is going to have them at some time in the near future and is it okay if I go to it because I think it would be good for me and then I can start making money and saving for things like these shoes and books and movies and that sort of thing and OH I cried when Megan and I saw Bridge to Terabithia and I even knew what was going to happen because I read the book but I think the movie was actually better which is kinda weird because the books are always better and we WILL own that movie when it comes out on DVD even if I have to buy it which shouldn’t be a problem because between my allowance and whatever money I make babysitting this summer will be plenty so, yeah.

As she sucks in air for the next round I grab my book and jump up from the chair, saying, “I’d love to hear more but I have to go to the bathroom. Get a snack and start on your homework.” This usually works well because when I come back out she’s either working on her homework or she didn’t have homework and she’s leaving to go play at so-and-so’s house.

The other day she was home sick from school and the little angel shared her mogus with me. Only I got it worse. So I sat in the chair, shivering with chills and wishing with every fiber of my being I would just throw up and feel better already, staring at her with glazed eyes begging silently for her to please stop talking. Finally I said, “Katie, honey, dearest daughter of mine. Please, for all that you hold dear and sacred, PLEASE STOP. Between the fever and your rambling I’m pretty sure my ears are bleeding.”

Blessedly she stopped. And how’s this for sweet? I fell asleep in the chair and felt something on my legs. I looked down and she was covering me up with a little blanket.

It’s really easy to think about how much I love and adore her when she’s at school. But at 4:00 this afternoon I’ll be steeling myself for the barrage that’s about to hit me.


  1. Dance Chica on March 9, 2007 at 1:44 pm

    OMG! This totally cracked me up! You and your daughter are too cute. 🙂

  2. Jen on March 9, 2007 at 1:57 pm

    LOL – My daughter is a motor mouth at 4. God in Heaven help me when she is 12! Katie needs a journal. Or, even better, a digital voice recorder. They make all kinds of them. Then she can blab her little heart out and you will not be obliged to listen! An audioblog? Hehehee 🙂 She sounds like a real sweetie with a really kind spirit though.

  3. Frannie Farmer on March 9, 2007 at 1:59 pm

    Thank God I am not the only one. I love my girls … I do – truly. But sometimes I find my brain going lalalalalalala or please.stop.talking.please.stop.talking.please.stop.talking. praying that my undiagnosed tourette’s doesn’t just take over and I scream something that will harm them forever …. Whew. So glad I am not alone … so glad you aren’t either.

  4. Angry Woman on March 9, 2007 at 3:06 pm

    Lol, my best friend from my old job used to say the same thing about her daughter. She said it’s been one big sentence from the moment she learned to speak. She said it hasn’t stopped yet and her daughter’s about 25 years old now.

  5. Dylan on March 9, 2007 at 4:29 pm

    Oh girl I feel your pain, my daughter is the exact same way…I almost got her a muzzle for her birthday. 😉 But your daughter seems very cute and she’s got a good head on her shoulders if she’s talking about making her own money and taking the necessary classes needed in order to be a good babysitter.Good for her. Happy Friday sweetie!

  6. Barb on March 9, 2007 at 4:41 pm

    Never mind the girls–our first son talked without taking a breath until he turned 4. Then his little brother was born. Now that little brother is a teen guy he’s not so talkative, of course, nor are his mature and grown-up siblings, and they all think that I’M too chatty. Can’t win for losin’…

  7. Marg on March 9, 2007 at 5:33 pm

    Wow…I have the opposite problem. I say to my son “how was school today”, and the answer I get is “good”. “So, what did you do?”. “Nothing”. Every day! LOL!Arrrrgggh.

  8. radioactive girl on March 9, 2007 at 5:57 pm

    My daughters are 6 and 9 and they already do this to me. My husband says I talk like that to him, so he thinks it is funny to hear me complain about them never stopping talking.

  9. T-girl on March 9, 2007 at 8:20 pm

    It cracks me up how much girls talk and how quiet boys are. It seriously is genetic I think! That was pretty funny, Baby J can’t even speak yet and she is already babbling at me. Maybe she is speaking and I don’t realise it because it all sounds like jibberish- eitherway I have the “uh-huh” down pat now and she is two! Seriously, she wakes up talking, no joke. I watched her the other morning and her mouth started moving before her eyes!

  10. Jenster on March 9, 2007 at 9:19 pm

    DC – Thanks *blush*Jen – She is sweet. She just talks too much. LOL I’m sure I have no idea where she gets that.Frannie – praying that my undiagnosed tourette’s doesn’t just take over and I scream something that will harm them forever LOLOL!!!! That’s so funny!!!Amy – I figure she’s got to move out someday. :o)Dylan – She’s greedy. That’s all. LOL And happy Friday to you!Barb – My son started talking very early and we considered getting him a t-shirt that said, “I’m Talking And I Can’t Shut-Up”. He was ever bit as bad as Katie is now, but now he’s very quiet. Not sure when it all changed.Marg – That’s exactly what I get form my son, too. It’s like he gets sudden amnesia or something because he can’t remember what he did in school.Radioactive – I would love to say I’m very quiet but there are too many people that read this blog who would call me on that lie.T-girl – Her mouth was moving before her eyes were opened? That’s FUNNY!! As I told Barb, my son talked non-stop from the minute he could speak until somewhere around middle school. Now he’s very quiet. Weird.

  11. Barb on March 9, 2007 at 10:44 pm

    Adolescence. Boys shut up the minute puberty hits. #1 Son only slowed down cuz little brother took over 24 hours a day. I was more exhausted with the little boy energetic talk than I ever was with our girls. Now they give me the answers Marg mentioned: Nuthin’. S’awright. Ok. Yeah I know. I’m like, could you flesh that out, pleeze?! Could you elaborate just a little?! You had a 45 minute phone conversation with your guy friend (for some reason their vocabulary increases around other teen guys) and all he told you was “nuthin’ much?!” Sigh….

  12. Em on March 10, 2007 at 4:07 pm

    Jen, thanks for visiting my blog. It led me here and this very first post sucked me right in. It is great to connect with a new friend online. And I totally understand about a daughter that just won’t stop. Daughter13 was like that for years. In a moment of desperation at the dinner table one night, I looked right at her and offered her ten dollars if she would just stop talking for five minutes. She couldn’t do it. Now…at 13…she still gets on a roll at times. Other times, we get that teenage grunt as she passes through the room! LOL

  13. Katybug on March 10, 2007 at 7:51 pm

    This is SUCH A SCREAM!!! I am laughing so hard I’m near tears!!! My 7yo daughter is pretty chatty, but she gets worse when she’s tired. Unfortunately, when she gets tired, I’m usually tired and she just will not SHUT UP. I SOOOOOO relate to this!!! What’s even worse is a woman I met when my daughter was just a baby. My first phone conversation with her felt like I had been caught up in the aftermath of a nuclear bomb. Another friend later apologized to me for not warning me about her first. Every conversation with her is COMPLETELY one-sided…all I get to do is breath. I thought, after she moved, I would likely not see her again…our paths were taking us in different directions. Then we moved to be closer to my daughter’s school. Guess who happens to live in the same neighborhood???? We kinda saw each other recently…from a distance, so I wasn’t sure it was her. Sure enough…it’s her. Now I am worried that I will have to be in contact with her again. I just don’t think I could handle the onslaught on a regular basis anymore. It’s like you wrote, Jenster…no punctuation, all one sentence, barely taking a breath! It’s one thing to be that way as a child…quite another to be that way as a grown-up!!!

  14. Swishy on March 10, 2007 at 10:13 pm

    LOL … that totally sounds like me when I was a kid! Definitely not now though. Definitely not 🙂

  15. terrillr on March 11, 2007 at 12:13 pm

    LOL!! Now we see that Katie doesn’t fall too far from her mom’s tree too! But we love you Jenni! (For those that don’t know me, I’m Jenni’s oldest sister – I’d have soooo many stories to tell, but my memory isn’t very good anymore!)

  16. Manic Mom on March 11, 2007 at 12:34 pm

    I think that it’s GREAT that your daughter is sharing EVERYTHING with you! Sometimes, when Diva gets home from school, and I ask her how her day was, she’ll just scowl at me like I asked her to clean her room or something!

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