The children found some old home videos the other day. As we sat watching them the Hippie Child remarked.
“Geeze, we were loud”.
“Yeah” said Princess Child “we squealed a lot”.
Yes girls, you were bloody noisy.
You would think it would improve as they got older but having just operated the holiday break complimentary taxi service of Hotel Shambles I can tell you that a carload of teenage girls are just as giggly, squealing and LOUD as a group of toddlers.
I point out that when I appear distracted and fail to respond to them immediately it’s because over the years I have developed the ability to “tune out” – it is a SURVIVAL MECHANISM.
A recent study found mothers of young children get asked 288 questions a day. As the traffic controllers of domestic life we deal with a query every two minutes and 36 seconds.
It doesn’t ease off with teenagers.
“Have you seen my iPod?”
“Do you have any money?”
“Did you wash my jeans?”
“Can I go to the movies?”
“What are we doing today?”
“What time are we going out?”
“Why don’t we have any food?”
“Fruit isn’t food, do we have any biscuits?”
The study doesn’t look at the additional questions from the spouse.
“What’s for dinner?”
“Did you pay the electricity?”
“Have you seen my keys?”
It’s a never-ending loop of interrogation.
I am supposed to be writing. The television is blaring, music is blasting from the elder daughter’s bedroom, the phone is constantly going off, (how many phone calls does it take to arrange one trip to the movies?) and I’m fielding the usual stream of inquiries, requests and quizzes. Jane Austen never had to deal with this debacle.
I dream of quiet. A serenity of calm involving NO NOISE WHATSOEVER. Imagine being able to think uninterrupted?
Instead I master the art of simultaneously responding, arguing, answering while punching out a paragraph or two, paying bills online and mentally compiling a shopping list for this week’s dinner menus.
This is how it is right now.
I also reserve the right to produce nostalgic posts in the future on how I can’t stand the quiet of an empty house once the children have moved out. That’s my right as a dysfunctional, confused woman who is mentally scarred by the rigour of child raising.
I believe Virginia Woolf would say “she needs a room of her own”!!! “What’s for dinner?” is my most hated question, other than “Where’s my….” before they’ve even looked.
Virginia was so bloody right! I soooo hate the “what’s for dinner” question. I don’t damn well know, I’ve been busy, I haven’t thought about it, just ONCE could somebody else decide?????
I love this post! I sometimes crave quiet and to have the house to myself. Then when it happens I find myself looking for company. The irony. (By the way this photo is beautiful too.)
That’s the problem isn’t it? I demand quiet, then when I send them out and I’m left alone, I feel a bit lost, perhaps I’ve forgotten how to work without constant interruptions?
“Yes girls, you were bloody noisy.”
I am still laughing. Thanks for the joy break.
Glad you enjoyed it Cynthia.
This is a great post. Love it.
Thank you.
i’m with you about reserving the right to post later that it’s too quiet. you sound really happy despite the din. enjoy!
This post is spot on! Are you sure it’s only 288 questions per day? It feels like that per hour;) Love my girls dearly but I relish the quiet moments post bedtime. I am your newest follower:)
Great to have you have you here Andrea. I agree I reckon they got the got the kids on a quiet day for the survey ’cause it sure feels like more than 288 questions per day.
Great post. I agree with Kirsti…I crave peace and quiet and as soon as I get it I crave company. I think I’m just conditioned to noise and chaos. I like to write in cafes because there’s noise but it’s not directed at me.
I think I’m going to have to try the escaping to a cafe and see if that works for me.