I spent years living alone, marrying in my middle thirties after having finally getting tired of too much peace and quiet.
I can be at home when the kids are here, or when they are gone because I have flexible hours at work, and I work one day from home. But that means that there is not much of a separation between the two at times.
Plus, the children were at home all break, and EG took time off to be home, and I was not alone for one minute except when I bailed water from the laundry tub to the washer, and even then people would follow me down and stand at the other end of the room and attempt to talk to me.
Exasperated, I would yell over the water sounds, "I can't HEAR you. Can it wait until I get back upstairs?" Of course, the speaker would simply increase the volume, usually enough for me to hear something like, "I'm nogig to ughbehnk, hen then too-erk."
I would nod and go back to bailing. Whatever. The speaker wasn't waving his arms, and I didn't see blood or hear bodies falling, so I wasn't going to worry that much.
Of course, the stress of the week, including going back to work for one day and frantically meeting two deadlines, delayed because others were involved in parts of the projects, caused me a lot of stress, which I ignored but eventually acknowledged by having a panic attack in the hardware department of a superstore, and then to come home with a migraine.
When my father fell and broke his ankle, in an open fracture with exposed bones, he was asked to describe, on a scale of one to ten, the level of pain he was experiencing. "A four?" he said. "A five?" The doctor just blinked at me.
"He has a high tolerance for pain," I explained. "When he had appendicitis, he drove himself to the hospital."
"It's a four," Dad said, nodding.
"Evidently," the doctor replied, shaking his head.
What I am discovering is that I, too, tolerate pain well. I suffered "not feeling well" for all of Thursday and most of Friday, with the kids home for a snow day. When I don't feel well, I withdraw, which causes everyone to push and pull at me. Finally, Friday afternoon, I realized I had a migraine, and took medication. Within an hour, I felt so much better. Duh.
So today, EG, bless his heart, took the older two to early church, leaving Nita home with me. Nita and I relaxed her hair, which is never a pleasant experience, and then she talked to me for over an hour. She finally went upstairs, where it sounds like she is tap dancing on the hardwood floor over my head. I'm sure EG meant well, but I need peace and quiet, and I am not getting it that way.
Maybe next time he can stay home and relax Nita's hair, and I will go to church.