Oh Stars. Oh Brother. Oh My Goodness.

Eli's speech therapist informed us that once we got Eli talking there would not be a way to Stop him from talking. I will admit that while having a child that can communicate wants and needs is a fabulous thing to have, there are many times throughout the day - the week - the minute, the hour, the day where I need a few moments peace. I need silence. I long for a mute button. And then there are times where a Four Year Old needs a censor button.

Today we had our follow-up appointments with the ENT. I let Eli know this morning about the appointment on the way to school. Our conversation went like this:

I don't want to see de Ear Dahder. Well you're doing. But he might look at my ears. He'll definitely look at your ears. You sound like crap and your nose keeps running. You're going. But my nose is not running. See. Yes it is now hush. You're going. But he might put dat stick up my nose and I don't want dat stick up my nose. He's not going to put any sticks in your nose. Hey maybe we can go to Dr Oliver instead. No we're going to the ear doctor. Hey maybe we can just talk to him. No he's going to have to look at your ears and nose and throat. Hey maybe he can just look at yours. Hey maybe he can just look at both of us. Hey maybe I'm all better mommy. See I don't have to go Hey maybe no. You're going. Hey maybe we can just go to BigMama's. See StLuke school then BigMama's.. We're going to the Ear Doctor after StLuke Eli. Hey then maybe we can get some ice cream?. Yeah sure. But the ear doctor will stick a stick in my nose

So we're living with a fear of Sticks in Our Nose but we prevail. After school and a quick run by BigMama's we're on our way to the ENT when we are tapped at a red light. I use the word tapped because one is not rear-ended when there is no damage. One is not rear-ended when no police are called, no insurance information is exchanged. But dear Eli. Mommy dat man in de yellow shirt CRASHED OUR CAR while we were at de redlight. You would have thought the airbags deployed and the car was totaled. It was the first thing he told David when we saw him this afternoon.

We finally make it to the ENT. We are seen. There are No Sticks In Any Nose. Eli's checked. I'm checked. We are prepared to leave. There is a man at the check-in window with a vibrator for his voicebox talking to the nurse. We're checking out and I'm writing our check. Eli's all but climbing on the counter and I'm all What Are You Doing. He's very loudly telling me he's Trying To See and scaling the counter. I'm hurridly trying to finish writing the check while shooing him from his climbing expedition before asking him just what it is he's trying to see - to which he just as loudly informs me I'm Trying To See That Robot (refering to the man with the voicebox vibrator). I Am MORTIFIED. Where was Eli's mute button? I wanted to crawl under the counter. Have the floor swallow me up then and there. I had to then inform my son that as a matter of fact, no, there was not a robot in the waiting room but hey let's go to Target now and then maybe we can get that ice cream we talked about this morning.

Life is never dull. The conversation is always flowing. And lately it leaves both David and I hanging our heads, quietly laughing and saying Oh My Goodness. And the only time Eli's mouth isn't running ninety-to-nothing is when sleeping. Oh wait strike that. He sometimes talks in his sleep, too.