Listening Fatigue: So Many Words

I drove the kids up to visit my sister today. Two hours. On the way up, we all had our ear buds or headphones in. I felt bad that we weren't more connected. I remember when I was a kid and we all had to listen to the same radio station on long car trips. Should I be engaging my kids in conversation? A rousing round of the initial game?

I continued listening to the latest Lovett or Leave It episode and ignored my kids. And on the way back home this afternoon I was reminded to soak up those chances. 

Because you know what? My kids have so many words. On the way home, they talked to me. A lot. 

"How much longer do we have," my 13-year-old daughter asked. We were about 45 minutes into the 2 hour drive. 

"We'll be home by 7." Translation: do the math. 

Ten minutes later: "Hey mom, how much longer?" the 11-year-old. 

Ten minutes later? You already know. The 13-year-old boy, the one in the way back, chimed in. 

That's the thing about having three kids. They might each ask a question once every 30 minutes or so...but that means you're fielding a lot of freaking questions. 

Once we arrived home, I walked in the door, the kids continuing to pelt me with questions. Can we have a free dinner? What time do I have to go to bed? Are we going to church? 

I looked at Greg. 😳  That emoji was created for the exact face I was making as we walked in. And for the next hour, each child rotated through the kitchen while Greg and I tried to have a conversation. Interrupting, asking questions, telling a story. 

I am exhausted, my friends. These little people have so many words. They have so many thoughts and wonderings and proclamations and complaints and they want to make sure I know most of them. 

Even now, at 10:29 pm, my daughter is currently talking to me while I type this blog. She's telling me about a chat room and a virtual game and some wigs they were all wearing. I just don't even know anymore. 

Listen, I'm trying to remind myself to listen. I know that how I listen now sets the tone for later. I know that what seems unimportant to me now feels very important to them. And so I want them to keep talking about important things. 

But I have listening fatigue. And so I will continue to refine my interested nod, my perfectly timed "ah! really?" and remind myself to actually listen every so often. 

Meanwhile, when you see me in the world, if my ears are bleeding, you'll know why.