Sunday, October 16, 2011

don't talk to me

This school year has been full of changes. For the first time in many years, I only have to get me dressed, fed, and out the door. I didn't feel guilty that I never made it to teachers' rooms during open house; I only have to remember my homework at the end of the day; and for parent-me, progress report night was a stress free evening. And for these first two months of school, Lovey hasn't had any chickens. For those of you who don't chicken farm, this might not mean much. But I tell you, it changes everything.

Each morning I have gotten up and dressed in complete silence. Well, except for maybe talking to the dogs, but even they haven't gotten up many times. No one to rush along. No one to bump around. I make my coffee, take my shower, gather my things, and don't have to say a word until I'm ready to walk out the door.

But my morning paradise is coming to an end. Lovey gets chickens back in just over a week. Then he will be getting up early again. He won't think at all that I have been doing things at the same time now for over two months. Even after 21 years, he won't consider that I don't care what the temperature is outside; I don't want to discuss this week's weather forecast; and I am not going to wear a jacket to walk 10 feet to my car, drive to school, and then walk 20 feet to the door. And while there are two sinks in our bathroom - I'd rather not use mine while he uses his. I don't want to get dressed while he puts on his socks. And no, I don't want to brush my teeth while he pees.

Through the years I have explained to him that I need my quiet time in the mornings. I have told him that growing up, I sat in the kitchen alone to eat my breakfast. I have huffed at him. Ignored him. Rolled my eyes. Closed the door in his face. And been down right mean. He just doesn't get it.

I need my own bathroom. By next week.

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