Monday, August 8, 2011

The Earplugs are by the Welcome Mat!

My house is very loud! Like jet engine loud. Yesterday I thought I heard a jack hammer in my kitchen. Even on those days when my kids are all perfectly behaved and the pigs are flying around outside it is still really loud!

Simple things like chat and laughter are at a decibel far above the threshold of normal and the scale slides, appropriately, as you mix in any whining, crying, rough-housing, web-shooting, or ninja-like karate chops.

It's not entirely the fault of the boys, though I don't remember having to head to a rock concert to seek some peace and quiet before I flooded my house with little dudes. But, still. My husband is loud. He whispers like a quiet man shouts and he speaks from his gut amplifying the sound into an echo. My father-in-law speaks loudly and has a way of raising his voice even beyond his normal intensity that gets all of us to freeze instantly in our step. My mother speaks loudly. I used to believe it was to cater to my hard of hearing, live-in grandfather, but nearly two decades after his death I am starting to realize that she may just be a loud talker.

So, coming from a long line of people whose natural volume falls on the decibel scale between city traffic and a moving subway train it shouldn't be surprising that I am afraid to enter libraries. It's a good thing we are Jewish because we would, likely, be politely asked to leave the confines of a church. Before we even got one of those communion wafers. 

Clinton has to have the attention. ALWAYS. Don't give it to him and you will hear the same question repeated, endlessly, at an increasing volume each time. MacGyver is the quiet one, if you have to choose, and yet his superhero alter ego also has super strength volume and suddenly he can amplify his voice to a beyond boisterous level. Smiles was born loud. Sure he is happy, laughing, and always smiling, but when you are the youngest member of a LOUD family you learn real fast to speak up. Before he could talk he had a loud and horrible,echoing screech...well, yeah that was a fun time in our house! 

The middle of the night is the only time of solace, but the chaos is still echoing in my mind so that I can't even hear the quiet. 


Where the hell is the mute button?

Please, feel free to drop by anytime. I keep a basket of earplugs right by the entryway.