Talking

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I woke up this morning with a sore throat.

When I started thinking about it - frantically wondering if I'm contagious, are my kids going to get sick, who gave me this virus/bug/cold/plague - I realized that I'm not sick; my throat hurts from talking so much.

Since I've been home with my kids all day, I'm probably talking twice as much as I did last year, when I was working.

The irony is that I was a teacher. So you would think I would have talked more last year than I would have this year.

But I wasn't that kind of teacher. I didn't lecture day in and day out. My students and I had thoughtful discussions... sure, some discussions were like pulling teeth, but mostly I said things like:

"Hmmmm... that is an interesting point. What do you think about what President Obama said last night, Susie? Oh, you didn't watch the news? How do you expect to do well in American Government if you don't know what is going on in the world?"

Or: "No, Jane, I'm pretty sure the Great Depression did not happen because the president was sad."

Or (my personal favorite): "Please clear everything off your desk for your test. Any last minute questions/comments/concerns/prayers/bribes?"

But this year, I'm talking twice as much, and I'm saying things like:

"No, we don't hit our sister/brother... Hey, I just said no hitting! That's very naughty! You give him/her a hug and say you're sorry."

Or: "I don't know why the dog next door is barking. Maybe because you screamed really loud and woke it up?"

Or: "Stop shrieking right now! I'm not raising a bunch of baboons!" (at this point, my children normally start giggling and making monkey noises.)

Or: "Do I have to count to three? One... Two..."

I think my throat is sore because I'm trying not to yell this year.