Here’s Abbbbbbbbbbbbbby….

Ok… back to the Abbers and her idiosyncrosies.  She’s such a little sprite of a thing but I’m pretty sure her personality was responsible for the last eclipse.

I do get awfully concerned about her penchant for talking to herself.  Happy, sad, mad…  doesn’t matter; the more upset she is about something, though – the more she paces and talks (I don’t know if it’s more unsettling  when she frets and walks or when she’s happily chattering about everyday stuff). It’s part creepy, part endearing… nah, scratch that – it’s flat out creepy.  The most worrisome part is how the conversations play out as if she’s actually conversing with a second party.  I’ve asked on many occasions with whom she’s chatting, she brushes me off.

Luckily for me – I have Annie – I don’t mean as my living, breathing, actual “second party” (although she is that); I mean after she made me promise to stay away from the computer… she googled it for me.  It seems this is normal?  Oh my gosh, it never occurred to me until just this minute that Annie might be lying to spare me the knowledge my daughter is whacko.   NO! No, no,no we have a symptom-googling code, forget I even mentioned a cover-up of any sort.

As a side note to the Abby-talking-to-herself issue;  I do believe she talks with my mom from time to time.  I’ve asked if she talks with Lalee, she usually just shrugs and walks away.  One day I was folding clothes while Abby sat next to me drawing; I casually asked if she ever spoke with Lalee then pretended to not really care about her reply (it’s me – this reaction to a conversation with my kids is not out of the question).  Anyway, she continued to give her artwork the bulk of her attention and said, “yeah, I talk to Lalee some.”  My outward composure was surely not an accurate reflection of my racing heart; my question of what they talk about was met with a shrug.  I casually asked, “Is she happy there, where she is?” Abby said, “Yeah, she is.  But she says she was happy here with us, too and she misses us;” all nonchalant like – as if she hadn’t just unknowingly, turned my entire world on its ass.

So, anyway, this bit of her talking to herself is not new and for the most part just provides me with something to worry about when I’ve exhausted all of my other ‘real’ options.  Then, of course, there’s Alex’s, “I mean I talk out loud to myself, too; I just make sure nobody can hear me.” What the hell is going on here???????

“Yes, I’d like to order 2 white jackets with the sleeves that tie in the back….”

Usually I stand outside the Abs’ bedroom door – or whichever door she’s  chosen as a barrier to us normal folk – and listen to her air her frustrations, thoughts, plans – always ready to move, to make it appear as if I’m simply passing by (ok… this might actually be what’s making the entire situation so over-the-top creepy, I see that now).   This morning, however, I was in my bedroom minding my own business, when Abby walked out of the bathroom saying, “…well, ’cause it’s supposed to be a little chilly today.  That’s what momma says anyway…”

I was running a little behind schedule but my intrigue got the best of me so I started toward her room for a little eaves dropping.  I could hear her but couldn’t make out what she was saying; as I inched closer it sounded more like singing.  The rhythm was familiar but I couldn’t quite place the song.  It was like a Stephen King novel – my eyes focused on her doorknob, creeping along so as not to be noticed, my senses on high alert – straining to hear her yet acutely aware of my surroundings…   closer, closer, rapid-breathingly closer…  I could see a sliver of room between the door and door jamb; how could she not hear my heart pounding? (Edgar Allen Poe anybody?). I leaned in just as she sang “Hey bartender…. what I’m really needing now is a double shot of Crown… hey bartender…”