My oldest child is going through a phase, previously detailed in another diary entry.
It is a real obstacle to any form of communication at times. While not present at all times, when he does decide to aim for the top notes and really communicate to dogs and dolphins within a 25 mile radius – it renders conversation impossible.
Well, we finally got to the bottom of it.
It’s me. I’m the problem.
The big reveal came thanks to one of the multitude of videos taken of our wee mites. This video was of my youngest – who has taken a fancy to boogying the night, morning and the afternoons away. We haven’t blamed the sunshine, moonlight or good times for this, we have simply got our phones out to record one of the purest forms of entertainment – babies doing adult things.
It is to any forms of music, he even starts toe-tapping when you beatbox – badly. So this video was being watched by our family when my voice kicks in in the background.
Only, it is meant to be in the background.
It actually sounds like I’m sitting on your eardrum.
I’ve always known I’m loud. My voice can carry quite far – I may well be the Brian Blessed of this generation in terms of decibels. My wife, my family – they have always told me of my loudness but when you hear something so often, you tend to forget it, or simply overlook it.
Well, when watching this video back, I cringed.
And lo and behold, three or four seconds after I boomed out whatever I was saying – when you’re so loud, the actual message gets lost – my oldest did his now signature yelping/barking.
So I really need to tone down my voice.
What also doesn’t help is that he is on the cusp of understanding right from wrong. He knows when he’s done something naughty, but the reprimanding is not a constant thing. Simply because he has eyes that could melt a fricking angel.
Take yesterday. He refused to eat any of his lunch and just wanted a yoghurt. I was home so I took the hard route and said that he could have one if he had a couple of mouthfuls of his lunch.
Fast forward ten minutes and he had fromage frais lipstick.
So we need to cut the little fella some slack because we don’t give him a rigid set of rules to follow. Not when it comes to things like that anyway. When it comes to sharing, a rumble with his little brother, going near the kitchen appliances etc – y’know, the important stuff – then the rules are absolute.
But when it comes to cracking down on other stuff, we sometimes crumble.
Anyway, back to my ridiculous voice and my son attempting to match it.
I am now trying to rein in my vocals a little, but at the moment, the shouting from my boy is still happening. It doesn’t help that when he refuses to stop after telling him five or six times – your own voice raises slowly, but ends up matching him when he steadfastly refuses to do what you want him to do.
It’s so strange, because 95% of the day, this boy is an angel.
But he is coming up to three years old and it is to be expected.
So, I’ll be keeping things quiet for a while, voice wise.
I’ll keep you posted on how things go.
And the youngest? Well, I hope he continues to dance like no-one – or in his case – everyone, is watching