I was telling my family a story after dinner one Sunday when
one of my girls said, “What’s that, Mom? I didn’t hear you.” And another smart-aleck
daughter replied, “That’s ok…wait a moment and she will say it again!” The
girls shared a look and a giggle, turning to smile at me.
“Huh? What are you saying?” I protested. “I don’t repeat
myself…do I? Do I say the same thing twice?!”
Then I realized I totally do repeat myself. I blame this new
way of talking on the Farmer, for a couple of reasons. First, he is hard of
hearing and I often have to repeat myself around him. And second, he is also in
the habit of repeating himself. So I think I have adopted his speaking style as
a subconscious way of accommodating him. I’m speakin’ his language.
I went to a friend’s place once where the woman of the house
was using this particular style of speech. If I may make yet another Looney
Tunes reference, it reminded me of Foghorn Leghorn or Elmer Fudd: “That’s a
very big rabbit, I said. I said, that rabbit is huge.” Her son joked and called
his parents “Pete and Repeat.” Now I realize I have become the second half of
that equation.
And now I am extremely self-conscious about the way that I
speak. I noticed I repeat myself by saying the same thing, two different ways
if I am giving instructions or guidance to our live-in foreign students.
“You already said that,” Tega from Nigeria smiled at me one
day. Well I know I already said that but clearly I felt it was necessary to say
it again. “It bears repeating,” I commented, and walked away. How fitting a
phrase for my predicament. Oh well, she had better get used to it. Mina from
Norway has put up with me for five months already without complaint. Whether
it’s “don’t feed the dog at the table,” or “lock the door when you leave the
house,” they are likely going to hear it twice. Probably in the same exchange.
You can never be too careful about some of these things.
I looked up repetition in conversation online, in an attempt
to self-diagnose. There are a number of possible conditions leading to my
affliction.
I don’t think it’s a matter of forgetting what I just said
and saying it again just to make sure. I do have selective memory loss (I only
seem to remember the good stuff!), and I don’t think my short-term memory is in
trouble. But I do suspect I may have a fear of not being heard. Mostly because
I do this repetition thing around my partially-deaf husband, or when I am surrounded
by a dozen or more family members at a noisy dinner gathering.
Perhaps it is a sign of insecurity that I repeat myself. But
more likely, I think, it’s just a sign of age. I have come to this conclusion because
I think I started repeating myself right around the same time I noticed that
dark circles had appeared under my eyes. The same eyes that very swiftly began
to fail me when I looked at the computer screen and attempted to read what was
printed there. Within the space of about six months, around the age of 48, I
noticed several significant signs of aging. My grey hairs are resistant to hair
dye now. My wrinkle cream no longer plumps out my wrinkles. (It isn’t a miracle
cure – it can only do so much!) I have unidentifiable aches and pains in weird
places for no apparent reason. I have hot flashes that feel as though the bed
is on fire at night.
These are all just observations. I’m not really complaining.
I think it’s kind of cool, getting acquainted with my aging self. After all, I
have almost made it to 50. I have seen one daughter married and one
granddaughter born so far. I am one of the lucky ones. Many women my age are
fighting parts of their own bodies that are trying to kill them. At this point,
knock on wood, I am able to celebrate my health and the ability to do things
that annoy others, like repeating my statements ad infinitum.
I like that phrase so I’m going to say it again. Ad
infinitum. Just to annoy my daughters.
-30-
Email: dianafisher1@gmail.com
www.theaccidentalfarmwife.blogspot.com
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