Brigid Day

I spend a good deal of time wondering what in the world is going on in my son’s head.  Some days he is vivacious.  Some days he is darn near chatty (in a way that pretty much only I can understand.)  Today was one of the days where he just kind of looked spacey and out of it.  Not ill, just kind of in his own world.

Sometimes I actually ask him if he’s going to start talking soon.  He usually nods his head yes.  I have no idea if he knows what I am saying.

I can begin to worry (yes, me.  Really.  What? You aren’t surprised in the least?) on these days when it seems like he has gone back in time to when he really didn’t say anything at all.

But I have those days too.  I have days where I wish I could be by myself and people would stop making demands of me.  He must get tired of me telling him to say the word, tell me, use your words.  I can only imagine he is thinking Look woman, I am pointing at it.  You know I want it.  I know I want it.  Just give it to me already and quit making me jump through hoops.  At least, that’s what I hope he is thinking, because then we would be thinking the same thing.