Welcome to “The Quiet Zone”

This is going to be quick and dirty because–well, that will be explained forthwith.  I hope…

If you’ll recall, when I was ranting about parenting not being life’s most glamorous profession, I mentioned that I sort of felt like crap.  Well, the crap turned into a full-on cold that has now settled into my lungs.  Today, for instance, I was forced to leave a meeting due to a coughing attack, and upon re-entry, I was embarrassed to learn that the attack was not yet over.  I tried, very womanfully, to suffer along without further disrupting the meeting, but it was touch and go.  Luckily, one of my co-workers had a cough-drop in her jacket pocket and so my professional reputation and the meeting were saved.  [Sidenote:  She’s not even a mom, and as far as I can tell, she doesn’t have a cold, so I can only assume she must have been a Girl Scout as that is a serious amount of preparedness.]  [Side-sidenote:  No, I don’t really think my professional rep would have been harmed by a second coughing attack, but I’m sure it would have annoyed everyone, which is almost as bad.] [Side-side-sidenote:  Ha, no I’m only kidding.]

So, yeah, I have cold, and to make matters worse, I’ve pretty much lost my voice.  I can barely speak above a whisper, and this only for short periods of time.  My boss called me about something today, and I felt compelled to tell her that no, I wasn’t trying to seduce her over the phone, what with my husky-voiced talk of completed training materials and upcoming meetings.  It’s seriously ridiculous, and apart from coughing, “The Quiet Zone” is one of my least favorite “side-effects and symptoms.”

Aside from making work, um, awkward, this forced silence is totally affecting my parenting game (not that I really have one, clearly, being as I can’t get my kids to behave or even eat half the time, but let’s just pretend, shall we?).  See, a large part of my “Mom” arsenal is the raised voice, the commanding tone, the don’t-f’-with-me-kid-I-am-not-in-the-mood thing that all moms perfect by the time their kids can form a full sentence.  When you can’t talk?  Not so much.  This morning, while I was in the office, I tried to instruct Maddie to “Seriously, get your coat on NOW!” only to find out that she literally could not hear me.  “Let’s go, Go, GO!  We’re going to be late is so much less effective when it’s “let’s go, go, go.  we’re going to be late.”  I’m like a toothless dog, just nipping at her heels in an annoying but completely harmless manner.

I’m hoping that a good night’s sleep will help set things right–assuming I can get one, which is why I’m planning to head to bed post-haste.  And yes, I know the KU/Duke game is about to start, and yes, I know some of you will consider this my tendered resignation as a KU fan, but as of right now, I’ve already been up for 16 hours, so I just…do not care.  I want to sleep.  E tu, Gabbie?

Obligatory silly photo