My Daughter, Courtney, talks all the time! I tell her constantly, "You just talk to hear yourself talking," and she does. But, they all do really - all of my kids. They are the talking-est bunch of kids you could ever imagine. I don't know where they get it from. I talk way more since I've had kids, than I ever did before, but I was never a talker.
My sister was the talker. My brother and I couldn't get a word in for all the magical talking our sister could come up with.
And ... all of you that have kids - kids that talk - are well aware, that most of this talk is pretty much nonsense. It's about bizarre stuff about Pokemans and sponges and so much gibberish I stopped trying to comprehend it or decipher it, long ago. I sometimes just pretend like I'm listening (I've got that face down good - stare right into their eyes, raise an eyebrow every now and then to show interest, shake my head a lot and smile if a smile is called for). If I actually tried to digest all the gibberish coming out my children's mouths, day in and day out ... I'd have to move all the really important stuff (like their names) out of my cluttered brain, to store this constant barrage of useless information. Nope ... I learned this technique from my husband - I act like I'm really interested and hope that they don't notice that my eyes have glazed over.
And just about the time I think they have run out of things to talk about or the clicking or tapping noises are as bad as it can get - someone starts with the fighting, whining, screaming, jumping or banging on walls. Bouncing balls, slamming doors, banging on piano keys, loud TVs or radios ... the noise is endless. If I don't hear noise in my house, I immediately panic and run to see where everyone went.
Talk is overrated. My husband and I can go days - days - without passing more than ten words between us. And we've been married for 23 years (maybe that's why). And ... we have come to where we don't even communicate in complete sentences, at all anymore. He's pretty much eliminated words altogether and mostly he just resorts to a nod of his head, a wave of his hand or a grunt or wheeze. I just throw out code words like: Late? or Hungry? or Mad! and then he just knows the correct response and if he doesn't, he makes up a new one and I eventually get it. My husband and I are like cave people ... grunting, hunting and gathering and whipping up grub. The kids are doing all the talking!
On the upside ... when the day comes, that it is just my husband and I again, and all the kids are gone ... maybe he'll put on his loin cloth, sling me over his shoulder and I'll be contently happy with communicating by painting symbols on the wall or pictures with a stick ... in the sand. I'd be pretty content with that ... right now. (*Note to self: Buy loin cloth for The Cowboy).