The number one reason why I am a parent wearing cranky pants is that I can't stand excessive noise.
I wish I was one of those people that can be in the middle of chaos and be calm and peaceful. Like those photos of a couple kissing serenely in the middle of a war zone. I am not that couple.
My husband is loud, my children are loud, our wooden floors are loud. I swear my darling family exist to make sound for no apparent reason whatsoever. Just because they can. Each singing their own made up song, lost in a noisy little world all of their own. They live by the motto 'why whisper when you can blare?' It is like living in a particularly noisy zoo.
The loudest of all are my in-laws. They are Italian and older so things are very loud indeed. The television (which must be on at all times, much like the eternal flame that lights the shrine in the lounge room) is turned up to maximum volume and sits directly behind the kitchen table. We all come together around that kitchen table every Thursday night for a delicious Italian meal and a chat about the week that was. Yes, it sounds utterly charming and it is... about as charming as a fight scene out of Home and Away which just happens to be screeching in the background while nine people plus extras shout over the top of it and each other and repeat everything at least eight times due to the fact that my in-laws are Italian and older and we are competing with the entire cast of Home and Away for their attention.
Ah, family life.
I've spent the past almost-eight years as a parent trying to figure out how to turn the volume down so I can take off the cranky pants. When I go around to the homes of sensible friends who have one child and a no-television policy (except on Mondays at 8pm when the very calm and serene Australian Story is on), I become almost catatonic with the gentleness of it all. I don't want to move a muscle, lest I accidentally pop the silence. Especially if they have carpet. The combination of one child and carpeted floors is enough to make me feel like a much nicer person immediately.
I don't have the answer to how to make a house full of three kids, four chickens, a television, a Sonos surround-sound stereo system, a Wii, a laptop, an iPad, two iPhones, three iPods, a ringing telephone, an Italian husband and wooden floors be as zen as a one child, carpeted abode, but I'm working on it. Until the day I die (deaf and hoarse and probably still wearing my crankies), I will be working on it.
How well do you tolerate the noise of life?
[Image via weheartit - please let me know if it's yours. Even Tineye returned zero results on this one.]