Tips from the Trenches: A Guide to Practical Parenting

It's recently been brought to my attention that I talk to myself...A LOT. I knew that my brain was always having "conversation", but I didn't realize that I was actually vocalizing these conversations. One day, I was talking to my husband and wasn't getting the impression he was listening. I asked him if he was and he actually said, "Oh, I thought you were talking to yourself again." Again? Huh?

Between you and me, on the privacy of my own blog, this is more than a little alarming because I often think about the things I wish I could say to people if I were braver and less sensitive to the feelings of others. I always wish I were good at the witty or pointed retort so sometimes I practice with myself in preparation for the next time someone affronts my unusually gentle persona.

Perhaps I really am losing my mind. In some ways, I think that might be a comfort. No more hiding behind the illusion of competence and normalcy. I don't think there is another personality emerging and I believe that I'm beyond the years of schizophrenia onset, but I'm starting to wonder if I need to at least name my conversational alter-ego so that people don't really think I'm crazy.

I do spend a ridiculous amount of time alone or at least in the absence of other adult conversationalists. As much as I love my children, they just can't debate the methods of removing the grease stain from my favorite shirt or why the floor is so dirty when I just cleaned it or even why the third season of "Big Love" has not been released yet on iTunes.

Perhaps what I'm really dealing with is the fact that I've not slept properly in more than 5 years, my neurons aren't firing as sharply as in my pre-parenting life, and, let's face it, I'm the best chance of meaningful conversation I've got on a daily basis (afterall, I'm really quite agreeable and supportive) when most of the day my only other option is the sometimes completely rational tirads of a two and a half-year old's mind.

My big fear now is that I will be talking to myself on the elevator and someone will turn to me and say, "Excuse me? I didn't hear you." So, if you see me, just pretend that you don't hear me. It's really not worth your time trying to get in on the conversation. My new imaginary friend, Talula, can handle it.