I LOUD

I woke up this morning to John throwing a ball around the room saying, "I LOUD."

Yes.  My family is loud.

I don't really consider myself a loud person.  I actually love quiet:  quiet music, quiet walks, quiet places, quiet people...  In fact, lots of noise sort of freaks me out.  But still, I seem to raise very loud kids.

The loudness manifests itself in a number of ways:
1 - Sheer volume.  As in lungs.  Somehow, they've all got them.  Even when calm.
2 - Physical activity that naturally accompanies the noise.  Banging, splashing, singing, kicking balls, batting balloons, you name it.
3 - Drone background noise.  (Possibly a coping mechanism?)  Everyone has their own style.
4 - Repetition to be heard.
5 - Competition to be heard.

On a walk today, I stopped and realized that I was trying to compute four lines of thought at the same time.  Every little mouth was moving fast and was aimed at me for a response:

• Will was questioning me about sharks; 
• Clara was baiting me to see a cat with a stump tail; 
• June was whining about her feet; 
• John was desperate for my "Oh, no" response (for the 100th time) to his story about tripping on the escalator with his dad.

It's too much for even the best multi-tasker (not me!) to keep up with.  But here we are.  My life, at present, is without a doubt one full of needs and of NOISE.

I couldn't find a picture that does our family loudness justice.  But, this one presents a possible solution...