Jibber Jabber, Acorns Falling

My dad recently left a comment on one of my posts saying that the acorn doesn't fall far from the tree.

While that could be interpreted in so many ways, this morning I'm going with the fact that MH is very much like me.

But, this morning I'm going to classify her as "acorn on steroids".

I am a talker.

In elementary school, I used to get in trouble for talking too much.

One year, one a scale of E(excellent), G(good), S(satisfactory), N(needs improvement), yours truly received an N in "self-control".

Needless to say, Mommy's Mommy and Daddy weren't all that thrilled.

Back then.

My gift of gab has proved most valuable in all areas of my life - not limited to my jobs, social life, and most importantly, communication skills .

However.

For as much as I have to say, the Mad Hatter has me beat hands-down on a daily basis.

From the second she opens her eyes in the morning until the second they actually close (which is normally a while after we leave her room for the third time in an evening), she never stops.

Side note: some of the bedtime conversations with herself have us rolling on the floor in hysterics.

Sure, she's a great conversationalist.

I don't know anyone else who could cover both her icky cough and Mommy fabulous new shoes in 30 seconds.

But, some days I could use a break.

Just a tiny one.

Some days, it would be nice if she could understand that Mommy and Daddy are not morning people, and we need a little time before we're ready to launch right into a thought-provoking debate on the latest installment of War and Peace (ok, to be fair, she is never boring, full of humor, and very bright).

Some days, it would be nice if she let one of us complete a sentence or thought.

Some days, it would be fabulous if she didn't think excuse me gave her the right to bust into any conversation around her, especially one between her daddy and I.

Most days, I am reminded of how lucky we are to have such a chatty little munchkin. One who makes friends easily, adjusts well to new situations, and never hesitates to bring smile to the face of anyone around her.

I see children who are painfully shy, who cling to their parents, who I fear are not living life to the fullest because they can't break out of their shell, and am thankful that this is one worry I can eliminate from the millions that entered my brain the second I became a mom.

So, while we still need to get through those elementary school years and pray she can do a better job on the behavioral side of the report card than her mommy did, nothing would make me happier than for her to stay exactly who she is right now - a vibrant, outgoing, and energetic little girl who has much to offer the world (even though at her current age what she has to say doesn't always make sense to the rest of that world).

Yes, the MH is definitely a combination of her mommy and daddy, but there is no doubt that the talking is about 150% mommy.

Dad, thanks for making me think about acorns this morning.