Driver Usb

Apparently imagination is a lot like hallucination

Apparently imagination is a lot like hallucination

First, I want to thank you all for your kind words and encouragement after my last post. Its amazing that theres so much support out there, and Im so grateful to be in a place where Im willing to hear it.

So, in the spirit of appreciating the small things, Id like to share a story with you.  Little Spaghetti is almost two, and hes really started talking.  Hes been saying single words for months, but lately hes saying sentences and communicating thoughts.  Watching a child develop language is pretty darn cool.  But sometimes, its just strange.

There has been more than one occasion over the past couple weeks that - if he was anyone other than my toddler son - Id have asked him what he was smoking.  Sometimes the words just arent quite there.  Other times, hes using the words, I just have no idea why hes saying what hes saying.

For instance, sometimes, he stares out the window at night, then looks at me seriously and says solemnly, "guy."  He especially likes to do this on nights when my husband is out of town for work.  Unsettling doesnt even begin to describe how I feel about my son telling me theres a guy (who I never see, of course) outside the window in the dark.

Also, at least four times a day, we have the same circular conversation about something completely nonsensical.  "Motorcycles get you," he says to me.

"No, no they dont.  We are inside; they are outside.  Motorcycles do NOT get you," I tell him.

"Motorcycles get you," he insists. No matter how many times I tell him that motorcycles do not, in fact, "get you," he doesnt listen.  Im not even sure where he came up with such an idea.  The conversation goes around and around several times, and always ends the same way.  Me getting increasingly adamant that the motorcycles will not get him, and him finally saying, "Cars get you."  Well, who can argue with that?

And then there was tonight, when his talking mostly just made him sound like he was hallucinating.  He was in the bathtub when all the sudden he let out a bloodcurdling shriek. "Eeeeeeeeeeee!"

"What?! What is wrong!?" I shouted, jumping to attention.

"Bugs coming!" he pointed to the faucet.  "Bugs! Bugs coming."

"What are you talking about," I said, my blood pressure normalizing.  "There are no bugs."

"Yes.  Bugs.  Coming."

"Where?"  I asked.  "Where are the bugs."

"Bugs gone," he said, giving me a look that said, "Well, duh, Mom.  They arent there now."

"Alright," I said, "then nothing is wrong."

"No!" he shouted.  "Bugs COMING!"

Someone older and wiser than me told me to relax, that hes just developing his imagination.  "Imagination" to me has always suggested lands filled with unicorns and magical fairies, not monster motorcycles lurking under beds, bug-infested bathtubs, and creepsters outside the windows.

All I know is that if this is what imagination means, Im in for a long, bumpy 16 more years til this boy goes to college.

visit link download