Parenting can often feel like an onslaught of sensory overload. The journey typically begins with intense pain and overwhelming fatigue. Flavor takes a back seat as you prioritize getting your child to eat, often consuming lukewarm dinners after finally putting the kids to bed. Your once charming living room transforms into a chaotic landscape of toys, disregarding any aesthetic preferences you might have previously held. Your sense of smell becomes finely tuned to detect various odors, prompting urgent reactions when necessary. Tactile sensations also take a turn for the bizarre, as I vividly recall a moment when my son had an unfortunate accident in the bathtub. I found myself horrified yet curious, asking my partner, “Was it at least one big piece?” to which he replied with a grimace, “Oh, I think every fecal texture was represented.”
However, the most challenging aspect for me has been the relentless noise. For instance, at our local park, my toddler delights in turning a pail upside down and scraping it along the edge of a concrete wall. The resulting sound is akin to nails on a chalkboard, forcing me to cover my ears. Each scrape occurs approximately every 14 seconds, derailing any adult conversation I attempt on the nearby bench. If given the choice, I’d prefer the chaos of a wood chipper over the sound of that sandbox activity.
When discussing parenting, we often focus on the lack of family leave, sleep deprivation, feeding struggles, and discipline. While these topics are undeniably crucial, the continuous noise assault—from midnight cries in infancy to the incessant clatter of plastic toys—rarely gets the attention it deserves. Gifts like plastic musical instruments, which seem to play only “Oh Susannah” on repeat, add to this cacophony. Honestly, who wouldn’t prefer a quiet gift like cash?
One of the latest noise-related challenges I face involves kitchen chairs. My two-year-old loves to “make a train,” which entails pushing chairs away from the table. The resulting screech as they scrape across the floor is reminiscent of a discordant trumpet or a dentist’s drill. Despite my attempts to use felt pads to minimize the noise, they often come off due to the age of our floor, leaving at least one chair leg to drag noisily across the wood. I frequently drop utensils as my son unexpectedly shoves a chair, causing me to instinctively cover my ears and exclaim, “That is too loud!”
I find myself saying “that is too loud” nearly forty times a day, which weighs heavily on my conscience. My two boys need the freedom to run, shout, and explore. Their creative, albeit noisy games—like mimicking hyperactive squirrels or dragging forks through mashed potatoes—highlight the joyful chaos of childhood. Yet, I can’t help but feel overwhelmed by the noise.
I suspect I might possess hyperacusis, a condition characterized by heightened sensitivity to certain sounds. Frequencies that intersect between scraping and high-pitched squeals can be particularly distressing. I always carry earplugs in my bag for public transport or concerts; it’s a necessity. However, I wish I didn’t have this sensitivity. It’s uncomfortable when I find myself snapping at my kids for being too loud. My grandmother was similarly noise-sensitive, which made me feel like I had to tread carefully around her. I don’t want my children to feel they have to tiptoe around me.
Despite these challenges, we must embrace the reality of parenting, complete with its quirks, including the occasional bathtub incident. On the bright side, perhaps my children will excel in careers that require quiet, such as librarianship.
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Summary
Parenting is a unique journey filled with sensory overload, particularly in terms of noise. While common discussions focus on sleep and feeding challenges, the continuous assault of sound—from playful children to kitchen chaos—can be exhausting. Embracing these quirks of parenthood is essential, as is fostering an environment where children can express themselves freely.
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