Thursday, January 16, 2014

We are Yellers...Hear us Roar

It's true. There is a lot of yelling that happens around here.

Yes, sometimes it's the result of grouchy people annoying or aggravating other grouchy people.

Other times it's because all my gentle pleas have fallen on deaf ears and I've lost my cool. Again. Not my proudest parenting moments.

But many times, so many times, it has a happy, silly, or hysterical wave that carries our voices to the crest of literally shouting with glee. By us I mostly mean them, as in the kids. Because that is usually the case.

A lot of times it feels like that is the default volume of my children as well, regardless of their mood. They are just loud all the time. A great majority of it anyway.

Victor and I can regularly be heard throughout the day issuing reminders to "talk quieter", "turn your volume down", "please speak softer". They do, for the remainder of that sentence or request.  Then the next time they open up to speak, our ears are once again under attack from excess decibels.

After the kids are down for the night, Victor and I, happy for the silence at last, are especially sensitive and gripe at one another about each other's volume. He tells me I'm talking too loud, only for me to tell him the same a few minutes later.

It makes me wonder if this too is seasonal. Whether in five years I'll read this and just nod my head knowingly but grateful to no longer be there, or hang my head and sigh because it's still all too familiar.

It's fairly amusing.  If it were a movie, I'd be laughing.  But here in real life, you might be surprised how many times you would find me covering my ears with my hands.


1 comment:

  1. 1. It's seasonal. Summer, fall, winter, spring. (I used to tell tourists in another time and another place: "We still have 4 seasons: Winter, Winter, Winter, and Summer.")

    2. One's nervous sensibilities and tolerance levels don't improve with age. Unless one goes deaf. Which is why non-dementia grandparents often enjoy having their own ever-so-humble-but-quiet home to retreat to! (One glorious sunny morning, enjoying my coffee, I thought the 100 birds in the yard were entirely too raucous!)

    ReplyDelete