Running out of words

Here's some self-analysis for a Saturday night.

(Speaking of analysis, have you ever seen Fame? I can't think of any sort of therapy/analysis without picturing Montgomery MacNeil talking about his analyst...I love him, and wish he was my friend. Ralph Garci? Not so much...but I digress...)

Anyway...as a mom who works (almost) full time (i.e. 32 official hours per week), I have come to realize that I talk a lot. A LOT. I mean it. Even though my job involves a lot of sitting at my desk, quietly testing software, I still go to meetings and have co-workers with whom I enjoy chatting. Plus I have a very verbal, precocious (everyone thinks their kid is precocious and very verbal, right?) two-year-old who thinks that if she is conscious, she should be talking. And she requires responses. All the time.

I also have a husband with whom I really like talking, parents, dogs, cats...the list could go on. It sometimes feels like I never really stop talking. Ever.

And I think of myself as a fairly quiet person, so that's been a bit of an adjustment for me.

Typically, by Thursday afternoon, I feel like I'm running out of words. Conversation starts to feel more forced, I start to be more irritated by just about anything said to me, and I begin to run out of the clever responses that tend to make people smile. But then usually, I have Friday off, and even if I keep my chatty Kathy child home with me, there's a whole naptime worth of quiet-time for me to regroup a little.

What a luxury! Sometimes upwards of two hours in which I DON'T HAVE TO TALK! I never knew how beautiful silence could be.

It's funny, because I know Charles must run into this as well. He is, after all, an officially full time working dad. But he's maybe a bit smarter about things than I am, and he grabs his quiet time in dribs and drabs throughout the week. An hour downstairs before Zoe or I get up each morning; lost in a book while we girls play a game outside. He's got the hang of it.

Anyway, when I start to run out of words, I simultaneously start to notice all the other things in my life which feel stressful. My dog whines a little more forcefully; my cat throws up a little more loudly. And the laundry feels more pressing, as do the fuzzies covering my carpet.

In other words, I get pretty grumpy, when I start to lose those words.

This week, I ran out of them sooner than usual. It was a busy week, and I was sick, and every night we went somewhere after work (to Charles's mom's, to a friend's shower, down to the farm where my parents keep their horses - all fun, but all SOMETHING). I was running out of words by Wednesday morning.

Then I worked Friday, and had a birthday party for one of Zoe's classmates this morning, where I had to make friendly small-talk with people I don't know very well (NOT a skill-set of mine). Zoe wore herself out, and was therefore completely needy/weepy for the rest of the day, even after a nap.

"Mommy, I NEEEEEEEED you."

I am so completely out of words, even carrying on small-talk with Charles now seems like an insurmountable task. I couldn't even summon the energy to ask what he was watching on the computer a few minutes ago (it sounded interesting...honey, what was it??), and I can barely grunt in response to any questions.

The good news is I am planning on running in the morning. Five miles, so about 50 minutes, alone with my iPod? Heaven! It should be just enough so that I can find my ability to converse on at least a basic level again.

Wish me luck!