When I was a tween and through my teenage years, I was perfectly content to spend long periods of time alone. Some of my strongest memories involve me sitting by myself reading a book or writing. In fact, when I went on vacation with my family, I was often referred to as “The Mole” because I would separate myself from my family, again, usually to read or write. Part of why I wanted to be alone, of course, was that much of my life was spent in the presence of others–at school, at the dinner table, etc. I think if I had been an only child, I might have felt differently.

I still have the same longing for time to myself. I usually get plenty of it, thanks to my new semi-private office and my own discipline to sequester myself there for at least an hour after the kids have gone to bed.

Still, it seems that my time alone is being constantly infringed upon and worse, time alone with Mr. Geeky. I get up at 6:30 in the morning in order to have an hour to myself to drink coffee, read blogs and generally get my mind around the day. Well, my children have taken to getting up at 7:00 now, which wouldn’t be an issue if it were just Geeky Boy, who I think has my same privacy needs, but it’s Geeky Girl too. And, gosh, I love her, but she has the need to tell you every last detail of what’s going on in her head. It’s pretty funny if you’re in the mood for it, but if you haven’t had enough coffee, well, you get the picture.

So there’s one area of alone time that’s been cut off. And last night, I wanted to have a private conversation with Mr. Geeky, so I went into his office and closed the door. Not ten seconds later, Geeky Girl bursts in, grabs a piece of paper and pencil and plants herself at the little table.

“Can you take that downstairs? I need to talk to Dad for a minute.”
“But Geeky Boy is watching a show I don’t like.”
“So, you can ignore it. Can you please just go downstairs for a minute?”
“No,” she said in a horrible whiney voice.

I gave up. I went and changed the sheets on the bed. Later, I tried again. Geeky Girl again burst into the room. This time I didn’t even try. I simply said to Mr. Geeky, “It would be nice if I could get more than 30 seconds alone with you.”

Sigh. And there were other incidents yesterday and over the last few days as well. Part of me wants to yell, “Just leave me alone! For five minutes! Please! I can’t take it any more!”

But I don’t. I try to politely suggest that she go do something else or that I need some time to myself. I know that in ten years, she probably won’t even talk to me, so I’d better cherish the constant flow of information now. Even now, as I type this, she’s getting dressed and there’s a constant narrative flowing out of her and there are bulletins from Geeky Boy upstairs. I have no need for a telescreen. I have the children.