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Joshua Doležal's avatar

Interesting angle. I grew up on a remote acreage in Montana, and my childhood was defined by quiet. Now as a father of three children who have a double dose of Type A from their parents (my wife is Italian), I live with constant noise and chaos. I love my children with my life, but I do not love their yelling or fighting or loud negotiations. How fascinating to think that they might someday remember that cacophony differently! My favorite moments with my kids are board games, playing music together (my oldest plays violin and accompanies me on guitar), and reading before bed. All simulations of my childhood.

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Cheryl A. Ossola's avatar

I don’t remember my childhood home being particularly noisy or quiet. I do remember my mother listening to Walter Cronkite every morning and that she played Stephen Foster records a lot. We had big noisy holiday dinners, but day-to-day I think the house was fairly quiet. I wanted to be where the activity was, so I preferred to do my homework at the kitchen table. That’s probably why even now, decades later, I’d rather work in the living/dining room than in my back-of-the-house office. That feels normal to me, and I suppose it’s a form of home.

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