You know that scene in Jerry Maguire where the adorably (horribly?) precocious, bespectacled kid has snuck out of bed and is talking to a drunk Jerry about all kinds of nonsensical and non-sequitur awesomeness? I used to think that scene was a total exaggeration of what a kid that age (he’s like, 3 or 4, right?) is really like. But, that was long before I became the parent of a three-year-old who is pretty much JUST LIKE THAT.
Seriously, Rowan does not stop talking. I wish everyone could experience my commute home from work with Chatty McChatterson in the backseat. It’s exhausting, trying to keep up with his meandering trains (planes and automobiles) of thought. One minute, he’s talking about cranes, and then the next, without any segue, he’s talking about cats. And then Florida. And that one time he burned his finger on the side of the pan. And how when he gets home, he’s going to have some cheddar cheese.
Not gonna lie — I do miss the days of driving home from work in complete silence. Just me and my thoughts, without running commentary from the backseat peanut gallery.
(It should be noted, of course, that I wouldn’t change him for the world. I’d much prefer a talkative child to one who doesn’t or isn’t able to communicate. I imagine that would be very difficult.)
Lately, we’ve been experiencing a somewhat new phenomenon with Rowan that I refer to as Bedtime Stall Tactics. If you’re the parent of a young child, surely you are aware of this equally maddening and amusing phenomenon. Basically, kids will do — or in our case, say — anything to delay having to go to bed. And I’m not talking about the usual requests such as needing to go the bathroom or have a drink of water. These are quite benign — and acceptable — delays of game.
What I’m talking about are the absolutely insane and inane requests and/or observations kids feel the need to make AFTER being put to bed. Rowan was on a roll last night. I believe he came out of his room (which is unfortunately located right off the living room where we were watching TV) at least six different times over the course of an hour and a half, each time for some “very important reason.”
Here are some examples:
“Mom, I want you to take a picture of me.”
Oh really? This from a kid who YELLS at me to turn my camera off almost any time it’s pointed in his general direction.
“Mom, why did you move that laundry basket?”
He could suddenly see it on the living room floor from his vantage point in bed.
Tearily, “I really don’t love my bed.”
Followed by him laying down on the living room floor to pout for a solid five minutes.
The best (and final) stall tactic of the night:
“Mom, I need you to cut my toenails. They’re very sharp.”
*BANGS HEAD AGAINST WALL*
Nothing tops my favorite Bedtime Stall Tactic to date, though:
“I think I heard the sound of an animal … at the zoo.”
To bring things back around to Jerry Maguire, “We’re not going to the F*CKING zoo!” (Randomly, I think Cameron Crowe may have a thing for zoos.)
Translation: GO TO BED ALREADY OMG. Also, SHHHHH.