Monday, February 27, 2012

gab.

I love to talk.

This is no secret to those who know me well, or even at all.

The gift of gab is one of my most prized treasures. Conversations about most everything on our minds fly around here.

Memorable topics from today so far:

1. the meaning of the phrase "school of hard knocks"
2. reverse speech and the subconscious
3. home-made jokes, and why they may or not be funny

I'm glad for the time we spend in language exchange mode (aka talking). Sometimes wonder and amazement wash over me as I ponder the rate at which children assimilate words into their vocabulary.

I dislike media for its conversation damming effect. The shows come on and people shut right up. Video games have a similar effect, causing my sons' ears to close to human voices and their mouths to utter no more than grunts.

I try to limit these crutches now, even if it means I get less done around the house, or that I hardly have a moment of quiet from morning until bed-time.

We can't let that pond freeze.

Imagine trying to break the ice a few years down the road when important things need to be said. I think, "if we can talk today, we can talk tomorrow. Then the next day. If I can talk to them when they're five, why shouldn't we be able to talk when they're six? Or seven? Or seventeen."

The other day we played "angry birds" on paper. We took turns drawing the pigs in their fort and flinging birds with lines drawn. Exploding in scribbles and high-fives. We talked strategy and made-up our own rules. I loved it.

Duke and I have cut out television shows for now, since our time together is so limited. Instead, last night we recorded ourselves having a conversation about whatever was on our mind. Then we put it in reverse and listened to it together to see if our subconscious' were speaking to one another backwardly.

Do you think we're creepy?

Maybe we are.

Do you know we both heard Duke say "beautiful" to me backwards? He has such a nice subconscious. Mine worries, I guess. I said "little girl." And proceeded to have anxiety dreams about my sister Emily growing up too fast, all night long.

Forward, backward, on a tangent, or sometimes too the point. I love to talk.

1 comment:

Laura said...

I also looove to talk. I'm afraid that VT visits are usually epic in length, and it's usually all my fault. Today our conversation topics included the word "butt", and why it isn't as good as bum --if you have to use it at all, (the kids picked that one up from what I thought was a pretty innocuous show, much to my alarm --ahhh their sweet little innocent minds are already being corrupted!) we also talked about why angels do not turn on noisy toys just for fun during naps (we already went over ghosts last week). You see, most of my conversations were with my kids. I also talked to my mom about the war Satan is waging on young boys, and with three of them, that one comes up often. We've survived 4 years without TV --although we have movies and now netflix, but I don't think even that is safe anymore. Anyway, I could go on, but I won't.
We'll have to try out that backwards talking thing sometime. Sounds interesting. We made up a game once of trying to say a word how we thought it would sound backwards, so that when you actually played it backwards it sounded normal --or so that was the goal. Whoever got closest to a recognizable word on their first try won. We should market it.