I’ve come to accept in the last couple of days that I’m a hollerer.
I start out quiet [Or, as quiet as I can be; I’m pretty loud all the time.] and then escalate to something around the decibel region of a tornado siren.
I don’t mean to go there…to that place.
I would much rather be quiet and do that whole “whisper” thing a lot of child “experts” advise you do but it doesn’t work on my kids. I know what you’re thinking: It does WORK! You’re doing it wrong! But, if I’m anything, I’m thorough in my research and I suspect my children are wired differently or have been permanently scarred by Tucker’s bellowing and my less bellowy and more harpyesque squawks.
My mother is a prolific screecher and I can only assume it was years and years of training by her which blessed me with this amazingly annoying – and potentially damaging – gift.
I had suspected for a while that my level of voice was a tad too much but what really brought it home for me was when I video taped myself doing this yoga DVD. I wasn’t certain my form was correct and if I was going to sweat through 35 minutes of ass burning stuff, I was going to do it correctly the first time.
What I saw – other than my horrible form – was me demanding the kids get off of my yoga mat.
Granted, each time I was about to fall on their heads and no one wants that happening. At the time of the taping – that just sounds odd – I was concentrating on not groaning and on my shaking arms and legs and every time one of them touched me, I would almost fall over; they were breaking my concentration and it was taking all I had to keep going with the infernal video.
Watching the video after I had showered, I saw Ollie raising his leg up like the folks on TV and reaching his arms up to the sky and doing his best to mimic them.
I saw Cara stretching legs out and doing her level best to do the splits. I saw her patting my back while I was doing the “chair pose” and my legs were shaking to the point I thought I was going to collapse. I saw Cara dancing around to the music like only a three year old can do.
Basically, I saw my kids being kids and me being an asshole for being short and loud with them.
Sheesh. Talk about a video slap upside the head.
I’m not going to say I’ll never holler at them or raise my voice or anything like that since saying those word would make me a bald face liar. But I’m going to try like hell to curb it. Whenever my mom gets pissed about something and speaks loudly at anyone – doesn’t even have to be me – my stomach drops to my feet and it’s like I’m five again.
Cara’s almost four. A bit too close to home.
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