Ariel

I swear I get laryngitis once per year.  I've had it many, many times since we've been married, yet it still surprises me how alienated and lonely I feel when I cannot communicate.  It takes twice as long to add something to a conversation, so I kind of have to give up trying.  The kids also know that I can't really answer them, so I don't get included in many conversations.  Laryngitis is a lonely sickness.

One aspect that I think is so endearing: whispering.  They'll be talking to me normally and then whisper after I've "spoken" to them.  They don't always realize they're doing it, so when we bring it to their attention, the embarrassed smiles make us giggle.  I use the term "giggle" loosely in reference to myself right now.  It sounds more like a seal barking.  And then choking. 

What started out as a sudden sore throat (it actually started while we were having friends over for a game night.  Figures) that took my voice on Saturday night, has now turned into laryngitis, sore throat, cough, and now head and face congestion this morning.  I am one hot mess!  Rawr. 

When I was younger (age 8 through last summer), I used to catapult up out of the water, whip my hair back in a beautiful arch, gasping for breath.  Then I would swim around, pretending it was my first time using human legs.  Believe me, Stephanie-turned-Ariel is freaking majestic!  Stephanie-turned-can't talk Ariel-- Eh, not so much.