I woke up this morning with my throat on fire and no voice to be heard. A nasty cold has settled into my throat, and I felt very sick, very sad, very lonseome for my husband who has been gone for four days, and very unprepared to parent my children without the use of my voice. It was a rough start for the day.
If I were a teacher, I would have claimed a sick day. But there are no sick days in this job contract.
It has been an interesting stretch for my parenting and discipline strategies, since I can only whisper. I'm realizing how much I rely on a stern voice and a strong lecture when I need it. But when those tactics aren't available, once must be wordlessly creative. I have become dependent on clapping my hands, snapping my fingers, and waiting for them to be still and quiet before I speak. I can't talk over their volume, so they must come down to mine.
Truthfully, I'm learning a few new strategies that I might keep in the toolbox, even when I can talk again.
Since they are down for their naps as I write, and since the morning is behind us, I can reflect with more eloquence about what I am learning today. But this morning, I just wanted to lay in bed and cry. Obedience was not on my children's agenda, no matter how much I whispered, and I did not have the patience to do this job.
But it's done. The first half of the day, anyway.