I went to the doctor today in an attempt to curb a bad case of bronchitis. After listening to my breathing and coughing, the medical professional decided that what I have is viral. He wouldn't give me an antibiotic due to my many allergies. He offered cortisone and an inhaler...I took the inhaler. His greatest piece of advice, though, was for me to not talk for two days.
On a normal weekend, that might not be such a tough plan to follow. The Boy doesn't talk much unless spoken to. The majority of my clever wit and conversation is directed toward Mac and Ridley, and cats don't really care if you don't talk to them. They just want fed at the appropriate intervals. This weekend is different! My college son is home for spring break, and he and I talk a lot! We have conversation...communication...dialogue. It takes my voice!
I am female, which stereotypically means I am a talker. Don't get me wrong; I have no problems with speaking. I even "spur of the moment" jumped up at a school meeting this week and spoke for an absent co-worker who was to present to the parents. I used to tell students in my career class that I had two options for careers: teacher or telephone operator, because those were two jobs that required talking. (Of course, kids today don't know what a telephone operator is!) BUT, I don't normally contemplate whether I talk or not.
This weekend is different. With J-Man home, I want to be able to talk to him whenever needed. I want to hear what he has to say about his classes, friends, plans for the future. I want to be able to laugh and joke with him. Those are some of the things I miss while he is away for weeks at a time. I value each moment with him.
The boys have gone to spend the afternoon with their dad, now, so I will give myself a few hours of vocal rest. When they return, though, I will break the silence and share this time with my child. Maybe if I ask the right questions, he will do most of the talking. I'll try to sit back and listen...