I am "that" mom...

   Yep, that's me.  I am "that" mom.  For the last two weeks, Molly has turned me into the crazy woman saying her child's name repetitively, while the child continues on her way, with very little response.  I feel like I am trapped in that Bill Cosby sketch.  You know the one, where he is on the plane, and by the end of the trip, everyone knows little "Jeffrey's" name.  By the time we have left anywhere over the last two weeks, I am positive everyone knows Molly's name...well, with the exception of Molly of course.
 
     This morning, while I was following her around the mall, calling out her name, I came to a possible explanation.  I walked up to Molly, picked her up, and I asked her, "Molly, did you change your name, and not tell Mommy?"  I mean, what else could possibly explain the complete and total lack of response that I have been receiving?  Her response, "No, Mommy...My name is Molly. M-O-L-L-Y..."  I put her down, and within seconds, she was right back in "Molly World."  There really is nothing more infuriating than talking to someone who has become selectively deaf to the sound of your voice.  Well, unless it is multiple people that have become seemingly deaf to the sound of your voice.  Husbands and partners are also excellent examples of this behavior.  You begin to doubt your sanity at times.  Well, actually I frequently doubt my sanity.  I think I was sane before the children...pretty close to crazy, but sane prior to bringing children into this world.

   I have decided that she is convincing Colin to join her in this behavior.  They are conspiring against me while I am not looking.  I think they have agreed to ignore me until I reach the full "mommy is having a temper tantrum in the corner," point.  They love to wait until Mommy starts twitching and screaming their names at the top of my lungs.  Why do I get louder? I am not sure.  I can tell it doesn't seem to help in the slightest.  In fact, I am almost positive it is the equivalent of talking louder to someone who doesn't speak English.  I recognized the "look" from both of them this past weekend as I attempted to herd them through a pumpkin patch.  It is that glazed over, confused, with their heads tilted to the side like a puppy dog, look that they give me.  Like I have four heads.  Like they can't imagine why I am so frustrated with them, even though I have been saying their names for 5 solid minutes, and they have yet to acknowledge me.  By the end of our trip to the pumpkin patch, I was ready to sit down and cry.  I had two 40 pound toddlers, who were not listening to me, a 20 pound pumpkin that we had picked out to carve, a back pack full of stuff, and I had no idea how I was going to make it to my car with everything intact, including my sanity.  I rarely get flustered, but I did on Sunday.  It is not often you realize you are completely at their mercy, and that there really is nothing you can do to make them follow you to the car.  Luckily, I have awesome friends who circled the wagons, threw my pumpkin in their stroller, and helped me herd my uncooperative children out to my car.  I hate feeling like an incompetent mother.  I know we have all been "there," but you still want to tuck your tail and hide when it is your children.

    Hopefully this phase with Molly will end soon.  I would love to enjoy a few years before she hits puberty, and starts to ignore everything I say all over again.  Sometimes, I wish I could spend a day inside her brain.  Molly takes her time.  She  enjoys life.  She checks out everything along the way.  I wonder what it would be like to be that free.  I also wonder how she could be so oblivious to the crazy lady saying her name 5,000 times in a row...Just acknowledge me kid...at least a little nod in my general direction.  I am beginning to wonder if I am even talking out loud at all.