As a stay at home dad, I spend eight hours a day (minus naps) basically talking to myself. My daughter is in the room mind you, but it’s pretty much a one-way dialogue. And I’m not soliloquizing in Shakespeare here. My conversations sound more like this:
“Yeah? You want your milk? Okay, here you go. Mmmmm, milk’s good huh? Yeah.”
“Yeah, there’s Clover. Say hi to Clover. Hi Clover! Clover’s a good dog isn’t she? Yes she is. What’s she doing now? Oh look she’s – Hey! Clover! Not yours! That’s Josephine’s toy. No!”
Most people who talk to themselves are either schizophrenic or are wearing a bluetooth, and I’m neither crazy or a douche bag. I know I have to do this, so that Josephine’s language skills develop. However, while her’s are improving, I can’t help but feel mine must be atrophying. I noticed I missed writing and thinking at an adult level, just as my body had started to miss sweating. So it’s a brain exercise for me, and if you find it interesting, all the better.