The Voice.

So. My kid makes this — noise. With his face. Ok, his voice. He makes this noise with his voice. He uses this crazy-ass voice that makes me want to die. Or kill him. Or at least maim us both severely.

It started as the voice of his [stuffed] dog, Bella, but it has now become his default tired/excited voice also. And, apparently, when you’re 4, you are either tired, excited, or pretending to be your best [stuffed] friend approximately 98.64% of the day. Every day. All the goddamn time.

I hate this voice.

He knows I hate it, too, which is the kiss of death. I remind him constantly how crazy it makes me and how I sincerely wish he would reserve it for just Bella. (I mean, what kind of jerky mother tells her kid that his best friend’s voice isn’t allowed to be heard?) And he seems to be agreeing. He seems to understand (to the extent to which he can.) But then, out it comes. And it gets right under my skin. So, I tell him again, exasperated. He obliges, but only momentarily.

The other day, I was talking to m* about it and she told me that it was only annoying me because I was letting it. She didn’t let it get to her. “Try some positive affirmations,” she told me. I snorted and rolled my eyes, but I tried it anyway. The next day, every time he’d slip into The Voice, I’d silently tell myself: It’s not so bad. He’s just playing. You can tolerate anything for a little while. And, lo — it worked! He went in and out of The Voice all day and all day, I rolled with it. I didn’t mention it to him once and it miraculously didn’t get to me.

At some point during the afternoon, I texted m* to celebrate my newfound patience: “FYI I have not mentioned the voice all day, despite its near-constant use.” And she texted me back to say, ironically, it had finally gotten to her that morning and she had spoken to him about it. (The message didn’t permeate, apparently.)

Ah, well. So much for positive affirmations.

And, also, kid: stfu.


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