It's that time of the semester where I have no more reading to do, very little class prep to complete, just some homework grades to tally and evaluations to give, which means I finally have some time to breathe. I need this time desperately.
Hannah, as a result of instigating a conflict on the bus, got into her first fight a couple weeks ago. Her problems with impulse control led to an outburst at a "friend's" house, which led to lots of drama at school the next day, and resulted in Hannah letting others bait her into mouthing off and taunting a girl, who ultimately felt threatened enough to start throwing punches. Apparently, Hannah has no fight instinct. She didn't throw a single punch. She simply covered her face and waited for it to stop. Since she didn't fight back, the other girl stopped relatively quickly. Needless to say, it was a very long week at our house, as we went through the appropriate channels to report the incident, made sure Hannah attended group counseling with her regular counselor, and dealt with the aftermath that accompanies teen drama such as this.
It's also a particular time in my life. I know it sounds cliche, but I think I'm having some sort of mid-life crisis. I'm not sure if crisis is the right word, but I'm definitely in a weird space, a limbo of sorts. I find myself, at 35-years old, not knowing if I'll have career in my chosen field, whether I'll live in my home for another year (or two, or five). I find myself questioning what kind of person I am and what I need to be a good mother, wife, daughter, and sister. I am drowning in self-loathing and there's little I can do about it. As much as I'd love to see a therapist, daycare isn't cheap, and I can't simply ask the girls to wait outside while Mommy talks to the shrink, now can I?
It's about time that I think about what I want to do with this writing space. There is a good deal of material that I'd like to write about, but I can't share it with people I know. I worry about being judged and criticized, and I worry about whether such writing would truly be cathartic.
It's time for me to see my friends, and I feel horribly guilty about that. Hubby never expresses any sort of need for friendships outside of our marriage. He doesn't feel compelled to make friends or have any sort of social life with his colleagues, though he is collegial with them and gets along with them very well. Me, on the other hand, I'm dying here. Right now, I want nothing more than to whip out a credit card, charge a round-trip ticket to DFW, and take a road trip to visit my closest friends from graduate school. I want to escape...to go away, alone, listening to whatever I choose on the radio (as opposed to hearing a Disney princess movie on the DVD player in the minivan), drinking myself silly, eating in peace and quiet while the food is still hot, and talking to my friends until late in the night. But, this is clearly irresponsible, foolish, and impossible. Instead, I'll just continue to keep myself busy with the demands and needs of everyone else, the watering of my flowers, the grocery shopping, the anxious worrying about whether or not my summer course will make, the hopeful plans that we *might* be able to afford to drive down to the shore and see Hubby's family during our summer break, and the endless planning, prepping, and reading for my new course prep for the fall.
It's also time to stop bitching. I'm really trying to remember that. To remember everything I have to be thankful for: my healthy children, our home, Hubby's job, the fact that we live back in the States, the beauty of the world around me, my marriage, my path with God.
There's a time for everything under the sun. The problem is trying to figure out what that time is...