The entire family has a cold. It’s been ages since we had a bug in the house, so we’re all swooning around as if we’ve contracted the bubonic plague. I’m the worst of the bunch — I’m not sure I’m the sickest, but I’m certainly acting like it!
Yesterday morning I woke up completely unable to talk. My throat was on fire and a rotten chest cough was making it worse by the minute. I could barely whisper, and even that hurt.
Pretty quickly I figured out that this really put a damper on my ability to yell.
I’m quite a yeller, usually. I’m always hollering at the kids to put their stuff away, or come and eat, or LEAVE YOUR SISTER ALONE, or to pay attention to their homework. My mom was a yeller, and between her and my four sisters, my childhood household had a constant noise level of 140 decibels. The first time I ever took Sir Monkeypants home with me — he grew up in a polite, calm, fairly quiet house — he was overwhelmed at the noise, while I hardly noticed. Having six conversations going on at once over the dinner table, while my mom yelled overtop of everyone to be heard as she passed out the food, was absolutely normal.
This month’s issue of Today’s Parent has an article on yelling, and how it is bad, and how you should try to stop it. Sir Monkeypants has left this article open in strategic locations throughout the house all month long — I think he is trying to tell me something. I finally got around to reading the article yesterday and it doesn’t seem to really fit my pattern, though. It was all about yelling in anger — those blow-ups that come when your kids have pushed you too far, and thus you turn into Scary Yelly Mommy. I definitely have moments like that, but the article’s advice on how to diffuse your anger doesn’t seem to really apply to my need to yell at the kids that I’M UPSTAIRS IF YOU WANT TO TALK TO ME.
My problem isn’t anger yelling, per se, it’s more a general excess of communication. At top volume.
Anyway, the loss of my voice did seem to make for a quieter day (those three hours of TV we watched while we all snoozed on the couch didn’t hurt, either). I probably should try to dial it back some, in general. I don’t really think of my yelling as a problem — probably due to the house I grew up in — but I can see that I’m raising another generation of yellers.
The neighbours would probably appreciate it if we simmered down a bit, there.
I’d love to say I’m going to turn over a new leaf but seriously, it is quite unlikely. I’m a loud person.
But once my voicebox heals…I might just try to keep it down around 100 decibels. As a stretch goal.
I think we had have what you have. It was awful. Feel better soon!
I am a bit of a yeller. I can’t help it. I speak loudly. And sometimes the girl pretends to be deaf anyways so then I just yell louder.
That sucks that you’re sick. (No one should be able to get sick in the summer! That’s just not right) I hope you feel better soon.:)
I used to never yell, but as I get older am getting quite comfortable raising my voice when necessary.
Until you’re better, maybe you should get a megaphone. That way you get to still keep the volume, but take it easier on your vocal cords! LOL
So your colds did start. We didn’t get anything so you weren’t contagious at that point. I hope you guys feel better soon. And I totally would not have guessed you for a yeller. The woman that lives behind me, she is Greek or Italian and she can’t talk to save her life. Her normal tone is a yell. The first few days I was on holidays I thought she was spending her whole time scoling the kids (she runs a day care). Turns out she is just talking to them…
Summer colds blow! Hope everyone comes around soon.
I come from a large French Canadian family. 140 decibles is a whisper. I’m loud. I talk loud. I laugh loud. I sneeze loud. And guess what? Max is loud. He has this big booming voice. Sweet!
ugh. reep the seeds I sow I guees, eh?
Apparently I’m loud too. People think I’m angry when I’m not. So I’m working on a kinder gentler approach…
I think there are different kinds of yelling — the ‘obviously you are too stupid to understand anything other than a shrill, abrasive tone’ kind and the ‘just trying to project above the din’ kind. Or so I choose to believe. When we’re at the waterpark or the museum with a crowd of kids, nobody’s kids are going to be able to get lost or pretend they didn’t hear the instructions when I’m around :). Having said that, I had a boy first and a girl second — before I had the girl, I didn’t know from loud. And shrill. And constant. Not that I don’t love her more than movie popcorn, but good lord the child can talk.
Hey! That’s hilarious! I was just wondering today how it was that we got along so well, including in terms of parenting, when I’m such a yeller, and you obviously aren’t! Apparently, I guessed wrong, eh?
Oh man, how many times a DAY do I yell, “I’m in the kitchen if you need to talk to me!”
And how many times do I have to tell my kids “Stop yelling at me because I can’t understand your words when you yell at me!” And of course, that needs to be said LOUDER than they are yelling, or else how can they hear you???
And the whole “Don’t touch that. Don’t touch that! DON’T TOUCH THAT! Can you hear me when I’m speaking to you? Can anyone hear me? AM I DEAD??” Okay, well, I don’t usually say that last bit out loud, but sometimes I do wonder. Am I still physically in the same room with these people? Or do I just think I am? CAN ANYONE HEAR ME? Man. Being a mom is so hard!!!