at ease

Twas the day before Thanksgiving, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, except for my spouse. The esteemed one has been having sinus headaches. Often. It makes him cranky and restless. I'm sitting here in my office, with Simon the cat soundly asleep beneath my desk, and the spouse is rattling, banging, rustling, and making all sorts of racket. I am reminded yet again of my father. Daddy always woke up early, and once he was awake, everyone else had to be awake. He'd been fussed at often enough that he'd finally stopped just going from bed to bed to wake everyone up. Instead, he became passive/aggressive, making just enough noise that no one else could sleep.

In most ways, my husband is nothing like my father, but in some ways, he is, and this is one of them. I'm not trying to sleep at the moment, of course, but if I'm trying to concentrate, that's when he suddenly has to hammer something or rearrange something. No one in the world can make more noise being "helpful." I've given up trying to get him to unload the dishwasher quietly. It's like he's saying, "I'M BEING HELPFUL!!! CAN'T YOU HEAR ME?!!!" Yes, of course I'm happy that he loads and unloads the dishwasher. He takes out the trash. He is everything a good husband should be. Except quiet. Unless, of course, I'm trying to have a conversation with him. Then he's quiet enough to qualify for any self-respecting mouse. I'd say it's because he's a good listener, but that's only partly true. He very well may be a good listener, but generally, listeners remember a bit of what they heard. Because he later has no recall of the conversation, I suspect that his active mind is elsewhere when I'm trying to talk with him.

It sounds like I'm dissing on him, doesn't it? I'm not. I adore the man, and right now, I'm really worried about these headaches. His doctor's appointment is next week, but he probably won't tell Dr. H. about the headaches. I can't go with him, unfortunately, and we haven't yet gotten old enough that we have to accompany each other into the examining room anyway, but I wish I could make a list for him to hand to the doctor.

It felt so good this morning to sleep as long as I needed, to get up and have coffee and breakfast leisurely, and to not have a sense of heart-stopping urgency--Do this!! Do that!! Now!! You're late!! Hurry up!! Instead, I'm sitting here in my robe, the last few minutes of the Today Show winding down, the forecast of snow feeling more like a promise than a threat. I very well may return to bed, just for the sense of luxury of unscheduled time. That sense of urgency will return by the end of the day tomorrow, if I know myself. But for the moment, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow. Dr. S.