Mirror Mirror on the Wall

"Mirror Mirror on the wall, who's exhausted and ready to bite and claw?"  No, not me, but just as that mirror of the wicked stepmother sometimes gave her news she didn't want, so has my mirror.  My mirror, or mirrors have names.  They are shorter than me, have many of my bad habits and call me Mama.  They reflect my attitude and issues back just as well as a mirror.  I would like to think a sometimes funhouse distortment, but a mirror none the less. 
The last two weeks have certainly been a good examples.  I am an introvert.  Yes, let the laughter of "tell us something we didn't know" begin.  I have heard there are those among us that are charged and invigorated by parties and big events, that the thrill of interactions with multiple people keeps them going.  Who are you nuts???  Oops.  Rephrase "outgoing delights."  We are in the middle of a redecorating project.  I love what is happening to my house.  I love the new butter yellow smiling from my walls.  I adore the way the chocolate brown paper with accents from my Longaberger dishes matches and shows off the wood and granite in my kitchen.  I am ecstatic about the ordering of my raspberry colored couch and chairs.  Now Mirror on the Wall, please send a fairy godmother with a wand to install it all.  Instead, installation has come with decorators, painters, carpet layers, as well as my usual support team of therapists and household help.  Please don't think the blessings are escaping me.  I know I am really lucky to have these things and people, but...  It is exhausting.  Even the nicest of people begin to challenge me when I don't have space to myself.  The simple joy in going to the bathroom with no one calling your name.  I asked Brianna why she was, for the upteenth time, standing in the doorway while I sat on my throne.  "It's just such a good time to talk to you."  Ahhhh.  But as days and hours with people have increased, Brianna and Lucy have, just like their Mama, begun to chaff.  The rolled eyes. The stomp up  the steps, the escape to the basement girl cave.  Okay, I may- may roll my eyes, but I do not stomp.  As my pressure and exhaustion from having to talk to people and being unable to get into my kitchen (my place of solace and stress relief)  so has Lucy's.  I think I manage pretty well, that I increase my coffee and hide in the basement with Brianna.  That we went to the zoo and to the park to get out of the house.  That less stressful Aunt Karen and cousins came to give me a buffer.  But... my mirror is screaming back "TOO MUCH!"  And since Lucy has no words or ability to stomp away, she is biting and clawing.  My attitude, my issues, made manifest in Lucy's actions. Mirrors tell no lies.  Time for me to smile back at my yellow paint and those filling the room with it.  Time for my inner attitude to be joyful and then perhaps I will find a way to speak nicely to those around me and not get caught talking to objects on my wall.