The Magician Made My Voice Disappear

Really, the timing was impeccable.

I’m pretty sure the magician is responsible.

It certainly couldn’t be the constant drainage running down my throat over this last week as allergies were all the rage.

I has nothing to do with the late nights I spent cleaning and organizing my office and the five years of accumulated dust I inhaled (sidenote: funny how that is the exact age of my oldest child).

I can’t blame the birthday party planning stress. My mother was around to help with the kids so I could get it done.

And surely having another adult to talk to this week during my mother’s visit couldn’t have added that much strain to my vocal cords. In fact, I think she’s talked more with my kids than me.

Nope. I’m certain somewhere between the rope trick and my now-five-year-old son helping him transform scarves into an umbrella, the magician secretly pulled a disappearing act on my voice.

Not pictured: how my voice disappeared.

The Invisible Act: my voice disappearing under the guise of a scarf trick.

It is so bad, I cannot even make the horrible frog-like croaking those with laryngitis typically can.

I am reduced to instant messaging those sitting five feet from me. 

Sadly, that doesn’t work with my kids.

I have learned my husband and mother suck at practical charades, but Bobbi rules and the kids aren’t half bad.

Meanwhile, I will be thankful my mother is here to verbally communicate with my children.

So if you call and a voice not mine answers my phone or if you hear a whistle* instead of “hello” – my voice is still MIA post magician act.**

Maybe he’s waiting for the check to clear….

*When I learned I could still whistle, my family accused me of faking. Bobbi, the linguist, later explained whistling is just blowing air – vocal cords are not required.
**It should be noted, the magician was a huge hit with the kids, but that will be talked about in the birthday post – as soon as my fingers are no longer tired from having to type to my family just to “talk”.

* * *

How do you cope when your voice pulls a disappearing act?


About Kelly K @ Dances with Chaos

Kelly K has learned the five steps to surviving of motherhood: 1) Don't get mad. Grab your camera. 2) Take a photograph. 3) Blog about it. 4) Laugh. 5) Repeat. She shares these tales at Dances with Chaos in order to preserve what tiny amount of sanity remains. You can also find her on her sister blog, Writing with Chaos ( sharing memoir and engaging in her true love: fiction writing. It's cheaper than therapy.
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7 Responses to The Magician Made My Voice Disappear

  1. I carry a yellow legal pad all over with me . . . but it is sort of nice when I lose my voice. More peaceful. The one strange thing I have found is that it is harder to write when I cannot speak. It’s as if I need to be able to say some of the sentences aloud as I am writing them. I hope you get better soon.

    • My biggest problem is my handwriting is horrible. I have long grown used to typing and it is so much faster than handwriting (and more legible).

      I think my family had as hard of a time deciphering the few times I hand wrote as when I tried to speak…

      And you’re right about writing – the words just wouldn’t come.

  2. That’s too bad. What I wonder, does it force you to think slower/more? Good luck getting it back.

    • I think the problem is while “conversing” I am not in my office – where I have an ergonomic set up for my computer to protect my wrists from carpal tunnel. Too much writing while standing (the safe way to keep Lil Diva from smacking the keyboard), and all I want to do is anything but type.

      I’m playing the waiting game for it to come back.

  3. DANG it.

    I would hope he’d at least make your laundry disappear.

    THAT would be some magic, no?


    • That would be awesome. If by disappear you meant clean and hung up or folded and put away. If you meant by being shoved into the trash and having to stop for another pair of jeans that fits right without showing crack and a top that makes your A cups seem like they are still a B, then no. 🙂

  4. I am cracking up – I lost my voice last week! Seriously, there are days I think you and I must be living parallel lives. I actually enjoyed the fact that I couldn’t talk, or yell, or verbally engage in anyway for a few days. It made me realize how much I tend to react rather than respond. I hope you feel better soon though, truly.

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