Talking To Myself

Am I the only one who talks out loud to myself?

I'm not talking the occasional "YES!" in response to finding out the check DID come in the mail. I'm talking a full-blown conversation wherein I ask rhetorical questions of myself and actually answer them.*

Now, even if you do this too, I still think that last sentence qualifies me as a freak.

Anyway, under "normal" circumstances, this wouldn't be a problem. I mean, if I am mumbling in the confines of my own kitchen or closet or bathroom, who is going to call me out on it?**

But, in my middle age, I'm realizing I don't do a really good job stifling that urge to talk to myself when I am in places where people expect me to be talking to another human being when my lips are moving.

And, since spring fever has hit the Nowell casa, it seems my little issue has cranked up to full speed. Let's just say that very few members of this family, animals included, seem to have all their wits about them.

Recently, one of the kids did something so over-the-top redunkulous that I found myself exiting the front door while gesticulating wildly and ranting out loud about giving birth to a child who could think that this behavior would be acceptable.

All this was done within ear shot of my next door neighbor, who I proceeded to act like I didn't see. He then returned the favor by ignoring my crazy ass, but I'm sure went inside and told his wife "She's at it again." Because this wasn't the FIRST time I'd left my front door ranting about a child where neighbor-man and God were my only witnesses.

There is no polite way to excuse your behavior when you've just verbalized that maybe, just maybe, your child needs to be shoved back in the womb to "cook a little more" because, apparently, nine months didn't solidify his brain.

Logistics aside, this seemed like a good idea when I thought it. But, in full-blown auditory mode with a neighbor as my witness? Not.so.much.

Going forward, I have to decide if I will a) bite my tongue until I lose the urge to comment b) start spouting pithy commentary about my children entirely in my head or c) exit a different door.

One thing's for sure: my neighbor probably wishes there was an alternate door attached to HIS HOUSE so he could walk out and have a sane, mute, non-psychotic Mother of three living next door to him.

With the kid's teenage years right around the corner, where their brains drop to low gear and the phrase "Watch THIS!" is peppered with eye rolling and disgust that they even HAVE parents, coupled with the fact that menopause is knocking at my door, I think we're on the up-ramp to full-on psychoville around here.

So, if you happen to drive by our house/walk out of your house/pass me in the car and see that my lips are moving and I'm the only one present? Let's just count that talking to myself as cheap therapy and a normal part of life for the time being.





*If the question is rhetorical, I should KNOW better than to respond to myself.

**Besides the dogs and cat, that is. Who just look at me like "I know you are telling me what a great pet I am. Could you just insert my name every few words or so? That way I'll be sure to know this is really about me. And not about that stinky butt next to me."