Sunday's are so quiet around here. The girls usually take one long nap at the same time so after some half-hearted tidying up, I'm usually free to do whatever I want. Within reason, of course. I mean, I'm not like some crazed teenager who's just discovered the freedom of college. It's more like "Hey, let's bust out the cookie dough while I crochet and watch Persuasion." And usually I say this to Brian, who's either like "Zzzzzz..." or "No."
Anyway, this time I decided to blog a bit before I jump right into the never-ending blanket project. Don't worry, dear sister, I'm sure I'll have it done before I die. Hopefully before you die too.
I've realized that Allie is abnormally loud. I never gave much thought to it until I observed her around other normal children and noticed that she was the only one running in circles, screaming at the top of her lungs. I usually think..."Who is this child? She must get it from Brian. His mom said he was pretty much her worst kid and she's had 6 so..." (I'm obviously paraphrasing here because, while Brian's mom loves to tell stories of the shenanigans he would get into, she thinks he's just the most wonderful son a woman could ask for.) But I digress... Allie. Loud. Obnoxiously loud. Crazy. Wild. Hyper.
Where does this all come from? I really had no idea until... the other day. We were cleaning and of course cleaning calls for a good musical soundtrack. And as I belted out Whitney Houston's How will I know at the top of my lungs in the loudest operatic voice I could manage, it hit me.
I'M THE REASON.
Who else is she around all day? Brian doesn't come home and start yell/singing at the top of his lungs. Maddie certainly doesn't give Allie any ideas about screaming (although I'm certain it's beginning to happen the other way around.)
The loudest human being on the planet.
Okay, fine that's an exaggeration but all things considered, she must get her mannerisms from me. Is that okay? We don't sit quietly and have dainty tea parties and say things like "Oh your dress looks lovely today, darling."
When we have tea parties, Allie hits my cup as hard as possible when we're toasting. We do some amazing mother/daughter dances around the house while we clean that I think could be viewed as a ballet/kick boxing mix. When I'm telling her not to do something (like touch the stove), sometimes I'll sing loudly "Mootheerrrrrrrr knows best!!!" Except the 'best' word is sung like that note in Phantom of the Opera where Christine goes so high you think the chandelier is going to shatter.
So it's my fault she's loud. My fault she's a crazy nutter. But you know what? I'm okay with that. It'll be great when she's older and we can sing duets while we twirl around with our tiaras, mops, and feather boas kick-dancing to some classic 80's music.