I have one child whose only volume seems to be Loud.
I am an introvert--outgoing (I like time with folks) but still, an introvert.
And of necessity, I have homeschooled said uni-volumed child. For three years.
The saving grace for me has been said child's love of musicals. If you have to listen to a rap song over and over and over and over and over and over and a thousand times over, at least let it be one glowing with empathy and intelligence, like Lin Manuel Miranda's Hamilton, or The Heights.
Or, said child can be exploring the career of, say, Jerry Bock and Sheldon Harnick (Fiorello! Fiddler on the Roof, She Loves Me, The Apple Tree, The Tenderloin, The Rothschilds) so I can listen, ad nauseum, to the glorious mittle european, French horn tinged sounds of She Loves Me and never get nauseous. (Full disclosure; my great-uncle played French horn in the pit orchestra of the original production.)
And frankly, I could listen to those songs forever.
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