So Much To Say

This is a common conversation heard around my house recently:
    Me, "<something something something>".
    My husband, "What?"
    Me, "Never mind."

My husband has had a bad cold which got into his eustachian tubes and impacted his hearing fairly significantly.  I know I talk a lot.  I know I could talk less.  I suppose I get frustrated when someone is intentionally not listening.  Okay, not suppose, do get frustrated.   But I did get a new perspective on communication while he was sick.

He didn't (couldn't) hear lots of things I said while he had the cold and I realized a lot of what I said didn't matter.  I wasn't upset, I just decided if he didn't understand why I changed the food plan for lunch, he could ask me because I didn't feel like yelling it at him.  (He could hear me, but I had to talk at a volume that sounded like yelling and I felt like I was yelling at him even though I wasn't mad.)

I realized I could say a lot less and it wouldn't matter.  I stopped explaining things.  I suppose I could continue to do so, but what's the point of being married to someone if you don't bother to communicate and talk to each other?  I know I talk a lot.  But I don't think I want to go the opposite route and intentionally not talk. 

The Big Boy Update:  The Potty Advent Calendar.  We've been giving him a "prize" for successful potty trips from time to time.  We've been using his advent calendar for those rewards.  I wonder if he's going to associate the potty, chocolate and Christmas together next year?

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Spit up.  Twice.  Something didn't agree with her after lunch.  She wouldn't eat at dinner and the number one thing in her life of food is, "oooce" (or juice) and she wouldn't drink any liquids, including water.  Pasta for dinner?  No go.  On the way home, she threw up on herself in the car seat.  One bath later and she threw up more while I was taking her to bed.  She was fine overnight, ate a full breakfast and school hasn't called to say she's sick so hopefully it was just something she ate.

Someone Once Said:  Work is not an end in itself; there must always be time enough for love.