He is such a quiet boy. A literal "pulling teeth" situation for the majority of times you simply need him to just get over whatever it is that holds him back for a basic conversation. In school, he's the child that has a internal total panic button for being called on in front of the class. At home, if you need an explanation for why the kitchen table is covered in a salt mound, or why army men are floating in the toilet - whether or not it's his fault - it's basically as if you are trying to move the planet with a plastic straw.

Then there are times like today. I picked him up from school, and Conner is in the best of moods. I didn't have to play a barrage of guessing games as to what he did at school - he tells me he played Power Rangers on the playground, got a special prize for being polite to others, and that he loves being the line leader. On the way home, he chatters non-stop about not enjoying being on "flag duty" because singing the "flag song" is not his favorite, but that Christmas songs are.

He continues his polite streak and shares his special treat, a roll of sweet tarts, with his brother across the car. Simply put, he's in a good and talkative mood.

Fifteen minutes later, we are pulling into our driveway, and Conner has changed the conversation to his "invisible army". This one, let's just say, is not my favorite. I do enjoy it for it's originality and creativity points, but in general it's annoying. We go inside and I make lunch for all of us. Conner passes through the kitchen no less than 20 times. I do not know that he ever stopped talking.

I tried to compose an email, during which time he stood beside me, never once letting his lips touch together for longer than a second. Said email was never finished, for fear I'd type out what he was saying as opposed to anything remotely relevant to the topic. I dismissed the work for later, trying to regulate my ears (and my temper) and enjoy his momentary talking marathon as best I could.

An hour later, I go to place Chase down for his afternoon nap. I had to interrupt Conner's soliloquy, twice, for him to help me find Chase's stuffed animal of choice, his "Pandy".

Fortunately for me, Conner assigned his ENTIRE invisible army to the search and rescue mission and fruitfully recovered one lonely panda bear from beneath the dark couch dungeon.

It was a bad idea for me to let Conner bring Chase the panda bear himself, as he started telling his brother about the "dangerous mission". It was an adventurous tale which lasted 5 minutes (and would have lasted another 10 had I not intervened). After the wild animal drop-off, he returned to his invisible walkie-talkies and continued his plot to destroy the bad guys. I decided to file it under "Conner gave Chase the best bed-time story ever."

I'd love for him to talk more often, to not be afraid to try to tell me what's going on (even if he doesn't have all the right words for it). It warms my heart to see an extra boost of self-confidence, imagination and charisma. I couldn't be more proud of him for showing leadership at school today and being polite to others, little brother included. But for the next half hour, as I finish emails and work, I just want to know if he could take his motor mouth to the playroom.