Connection

Deactivated

Posted on by noemikjames / 27 Comments

I knew March was going to kick my ass. It is doing just that.

Only four more days until my spring break. I’m digging in my heals and just trying to get through. Right now four days feels like an eternity.

I deactivated my FB account yesterday. I came to the decision suddenly, and then, surprisingly, I followed through.

I was looking at posts and feeling shitty and it suddenly occurred to me that FB no longer provides me with any positive feeling, let alone one that resembles joy. I’m not quite sure when the shift happened, but as soon as I noticed it, I resolved to shut my account down for a while.

I’m feeling more ambivalent about actually doing it than I expected. Deactivating an account isn’t such a big deal; I can always turn it back on. But it does feel weird not to be connected to others, and the world, in that way. Part of me worries I’ll feel more isolated than before, but I suppose isolation is better than what I was feeling when I was on there, and the reality is, that feeling had nothing to do with connection.

I’m not sure when I’ll reactivate my account, but my guess is I’ll stay off for at least a month. I think I need a reminder of what it’s like to live without FB, to get through a day without scrolling mindlessly, to avoid the sad, empty feeling I get in my chest most of the time that I’m on.

Without FB I’ll be opting out of almost all social media. I haven’t been on Twitter or Instagram in many years. I still read blogs but most of what shows up in my reader is of the “how to” variety these days–very few of the personal bloggers I once read still post anymore. I can always email and text people when I need some connection, and of course write here. Otherwise I’ll be kind of off the grid, as far as consuming content is concerned. I think that will be for the best.

Have you ever taken a break from social media? What was it like?

Marriage

Giving a f*ck

Posted on by noemikjames / 34 Comments

I need to find a marriage counselor and make an appointment.

I don’t really want to.

I’m so tired of working on my marriage. So, so tired. It’s just hard to give a fuck anymore, you know? I mean, how many fucks should I be expected to give.

All the fucks. I should be willing to give all the fucks when my marriage is at stake. I know this.

Honestly, if I had the name and number of someone I would call. Today. I would do the intake interview and make the appointment and tell my husband when and where to be.

But I don’t have a name, and I don’t know where to start looking for one. It’s not an easy thing to get a referral for. It’s not something you ask your friends about, you know? Not that I mind admitting we’re having problems, but it puts people in an awkward place because it assumes they have had problems themselves.

Of course my husband and I could look together, but I guarantee you if I bring it up tonight my husband will sigh deeply, participate resentfully, and communicate how frustrated he is to be spending his limited and precious free time looking for marriage counselors with everything except his actual words. Is it even worth enduring that negativity? I should just suck it up and do it myself.

Ironically, that cycle of my avoiding his negativity, doing it myself and then feeling resentful about having to do it myself is a big part of why we’re going to counseling.

We’re both so tired, it’s genuinely hard to give a fuck. Especially when we’re so good at just getting through the days without actually getting upset at each other. Things aren’t even bad right now, but the minute something starts to chafe, we’ll be back at it again.

Which is why I need to find a marriage counselor. I guess I’ll do that today.

Parenting & Family

The Answer

Posted on by noemikjames / 11 Comments

Of course the answer to my question from earlier today is obvious. What is there to love about parenting? My kids. And I do love them. Fiercely.

I can imagine you all must doubt that I feel anything positive about parenting. I will admit that some days, I don’t. But the good moments with my kids, when they happen, surpass the good of most other things in my life. They really can be a potent source of joy.

Here are just a few things I love about my children, and parenting them, right now:

The way my daughter bounces through life. When she’s happy, my daughter exudes joy and enthusiasm. She can be a bright, bright light.

Watching my daughter learn to read and thinking of all the amazing books we will share, and the movies we will watch, and the conversations about them we’ll have.

When my daughter does something for me, without me asking, just to make me smile.

Wrastling with my daughter on her bed, cracking fart jokes and laughing until our sides hurt.

When my daughter asks some incredible question that shows how much she’s thinking about the world, like: Mommy, who was the first person and how did he get here? What was here before the water and the sand?

When I see my daughter be a good friend to someone else.

When I watch my daughter learn something new.

The way my son talks, so excited just to be able to vocalize his thoughts in a way others understand.

The intense excitement of my son’s words when he asks his sister to do something or realizes she wants to play with him.

When my son yells Mommy! and runs to me when I pick him up from school, and how he always tells me, first thing, “I played with my friends!”

The way my son rubs his blankie between his fingers when he’s self-soothing after an upset.

The softness of his face when I smother my son with kisses.

The intense concentration with which my son turns to me when I ask for “a hug and a mooch.”

The weight of my son’s body on my chest when he asks for “snuggles on the big chair.”

The sound of my son’s laugh.

There is more, so much more. And these bright spots really are amazing. I just wish there were more of them in any given day, and I wish I wasn’t so exhausted from all the emotional managing to appreciate them more.

Identity/Parenting & Family

What’s to love?

Posted on by noemikjames / 23 Comments

I love my children. I really do. And I can genuinely enjoy spending time with them, one on one, especially if it’s the weekend and we have some time and we’re doing something fun.

But most days? Parenting is just hard. It’s not fun. It’s not even enjoyable. It’s tiresome and relentless, and difficult. A lot of the time I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing, and I worry I’m getting it wrong, and damaging my kids, forever.

I feel like yesterday is a good example of a day in the life of parenting for me.

TIRED: Wake up at 5:45am, exhausted because my kids were up four times and I didn’t sleep well in between. Go to the bathroom and brush my teeth. Sit down to meditate for 15 minutes. Hear my son cry out just as my meditation app signals me to take a deep breath. Get off pillow and check in with my son. Warm up some milk, change his diaper while he drinks it, acquiesce to his pleads for “snuggle time,” spend the five minutes lying next to him feeling sure that now I’m going to be late.

FRUSTRATED: Sit back down on pillow and start to meditate. Hear my husband’s alarm go off, wonder why he isn’t getting up. Try to focus on my breathing. Feel relieved when my meditation timer finally goes off. See that I’m 10 minutes late to get into my daughter’s room.

RESIGNED: Finish packing my daughter’s lunch and school bag. Wake her up for snuggle time. She’s upset to hear we don’t have as much time as usually. We listen to an audiobook to wake up. She is in a bad mood and just generally grouchy. She yells at me a lot, but I try to be nice.

PANICKED: Hurry to get dressed. Realize the shirt I picked out has a big stain. Find a new outfit. Try to get ready in the bathroom while my husband is showering. Pour myself coffee. Attempt to soothe my son, who is crying loudly. Drag my daughter out of bed to eat breakfast. Return to my son who is in full meltdown mood. Try to escape to the car, but can’t leave when my soon is screaming for cuddles. Sit with him on the couch, resigned to the fact that I’ll be late for work for sure today.

{Usually I bring my daughter to school in the morning but twice a week this month I go early and her friend’s father picks her up for school.}

REALLY PANICKED: Fly downstairs and try to pull out of my garage but realize some asshole is parked a foot into my driveway. Maneuver my car out of the small space they left for me. Wish I could leave a note on his window. Jump on the freeway. Feel thankful that the traffic isn’t too bad. Realize I’m still going to be late. Call a friend and ask her to cover my class for the first five minutes.

RELIEVED: Fight the insane traffic (it’s really bad right by my work) and arrive five minutes late. Teach one FLEX class. Teach another FLEX class. Eat lunch alone in my classroom, reading a book on my Kindle and feeling lonely.

EXASPERATED: Get a call during my third class of the day (when I’m standing in front of my class, teaching) that my son bit a kid and is being sent home. It’s his third biting offense, and the second time he bit a specific kid. Waste 7 minutes of my class’s time trying to get a hold of my husband (he never answers) and then finally get a hold of my MIL who agrees to pick up my son. Feel relieved and grateful that I don’t have to make sub plans and leave early, but also feel super frustrated that my son is biting other kids and getting sent home. Have a hard time focusing during the rest of my classes. Count the minutes until the end of the day.

FURTIVE: Sneak out of work ten minutes early to avoid the traffic from the other school getting out. Rush home, make my daughter a sandwich, pick her up from after care and take her to swimming.

SURPRISED: Talk my daughter down twice during swim lessons when she starts to panic because she’s scared. Wonder if the swim teacher is looking at me like that because she doesn’t want me to interfere or is just annoyed that my kids is hyperventilating. Decide I don’t care. Spent 10 minutes when she gets out showing empathy and reminding her that she’s not in the water anymore and no one is asking her to get the rocked from the bottom of the pool. Assure her she can wait and do it when she’s a teenager.

SUPREMELY FRUSTRATED: Reminder daughter she has to finish her sandwich before she can eat her after-swimming treat. Spend another 10 minutes getting her dressed and trying not to lose it with her while gently reminding her that if she doesn’t want to eat the sandwich, she doesn’t have to eat the sandwich, but then no treat. Spend the entire drive home gripping the steering wheel while she complains about not wanting to eat the sandwich, and that she hates sandwiches, and why does she have to eat the whole sandwich? Finally lose it and yell: You asked for a sandwich, you won’t eat any other food, just don’t eat the sandwich if you don’t want to but no treat if that’s your choice!

OVERWHELMED: Get home. Help your daughter upstairs. Greet son. Listen to MIL’s suggestions about ways to get son to stop biting. Nod head politely and bite tongue. Get pulled inside by son’s screams. Find him melting down because his sister won’t let him in her room. Try to keep him safe as he flails his arms and throws himself on the floor. Show him empathy and caring for 20+ minutes while he screams. Try not to look at watch and think about how much this is pushing back dinner, bath time and bedtime.

WORN DOWN: Set my son up in front of the TV. Turn on Thomas. Make him dinner. Help him watch dinner while he watches TV (Yes, I know, the cardinal parenting sin).

DISAPPOINTED: Try to convince daughter to play in the bath with son for 5-10 minutes because it would make him SO HAPPY. Try not to judge her when she refuses. Strip son down as you explain that big sister probably won’t be joining him. Try not to let his broken heart break my heart. Have son’s bath all ready when daughter shows up needing to go number 2. Let her go because she refuses to share the space. Forget that son is running around without a diaper. Pester daughter to finish quickly and NO BOOKS! Help her wipe. Panic as son calls out that there is a BIG POOP! Find his big poop on the carpet. Clean it up. Get him in the bath. Wash his hair while he wails that he doesn’t like it. Fill up the tub with bubbles.

GRATEFUL: Feel so happy when daughter agrees to play with her brother for a little bit. Referee their time together. Make appointment with new pediatrician to talk about daughter’s excessively restrictive eating. Get son’s room ready for bed. Pull him out and go through bedtime routine. Leave him to look at books. Wash daughter’s hair. Do a quick snuggle with son and kiss daughter goodbye. Head out to see friend who’s in town for a couple of nights.

I love my kids, and am grateful to be their mom, but most days I don’t enjoy parenting. Every minute is hurried and stressed and frustrating. I’m trying to approach this “season” with different expectations, but it’s hard when most moments with my kids involve talking them down from an emotional cliff (while trying to keep them from hitting themselves or me) or hurrying them through the next thing on the list.

This is probably a normal day in the world of the mothers of young kids. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me. I don’t know why those few moments of snuggle time, or the quick hug I sometimes get aren’t enough. And I know this is just a season, but the most common response to me vocalizing my discontent with early motherhood is Bigger kids, bigger problems! Enjoy them while they’re small! Which I’m assuming means it gets harder as your kids get older. If that is the case, I’m in serious trouble.

Things really do feel hard right now. My “easy” kid is angry and aggressive most of the time. My other kid is obstinate and quick to lose it. Most moments are spent reacting to their unexpected upsets, negotiating to get something done, or refereeing every interaction between them. It’s exhausting and not very pleasant. It wears me down. It wears my husband down. It tears at my resolve and our marriage. It’s just a really challenging place to be, and it leaves me wondering, most days, What’s to love about parenting?

Parenting & Family

The Deep Water

Posted on by noemikjames / 28 Comments

A close friend from college is due in a couple of weeks and I’ve been chatting with her a lot about the crazy transformation she’s about to experience.

Well, chatting around it, because I get the feeling she doesn’t want me to talk directly about it, at least not yet.

It’s been almost six years since I became a mother and I’m still reeling from the insanity of that life changing transition. Being a mom was something I wanted, and thought about becoming, for my entire life. All my other dreams and plans took a backseat to having children. So when motherhood didn’t end up being the life affirming panacea I was expecting, I was a little traumatized.

I also ended up with a kid who requires a little more of, well, everything. Parenting a kid like that can be isolating. I’ve found it difficult to make friends with other moms because we aren’t generally coming from a place of shared experience. We feel differently about parenting because we experience it in vastly different ways, not just because of who we are individually, but because of who our kids are.

I’ve learned to participate in conversations about parenthood without sharing my whole truth. What I portray is not a lie exactly, but a carefully considered set of omissions. I tell people what they expect to hear, and if they respond a certain way to strategically dropped hints, I might divulge more. But most of the time I stick to the fellow-parent-approved script, and we wade into the shallow water of culturally appropriate topics, staying on message as we walk carefully to avoid the messy splashing of actual truth.

I feel the need to do this even with my closer friends, most of whom are just now becoming parents. Sometimes I’ll venture out into the deeper waters of authentic experience, but I almost always find myself alone there, my friend staring blankly at my from the safety of the shore.

It’s hard for me to know what is the right thing to say, especially with my friend who is about to give birth. I know I can’t prepare her for the intensity of what is about to happen, and the last thing I want to do is add to her anxiety in any way, but I also want her to know that I’m here for her if it’s hard. That I’m prepared to dive head first into the deep water with her, if she ever needs someone to really talk to. I guess I can say that to her at least, and hope she believes me, and comes to me if she ever feels like she’s drowning among the strong currents of new motherhood.

My two friends do have each other, and they seem much more comfortable talking to one another about these things than they are talking to me about them. For that I am thankful, because I know how important it is to have someone you feel comfortable talking to. I would hate for them to have to go through it alone.

It’s been almost six years and I’m only now feeling comfortable in the deep water of motherhood. The currents are still sometimes strong, but I know how to navigate them. I have learned to float in the calm waters, instead of trying to swim to shore. And I know that if I do get pulled down in a vicious riptide, that letting it pull me is safer than flailing desperately in an attempt to get free. It may feel like I’m under forever, but eventually the current will drag me up again, and just when I think I can’t endure it any longer, I’ll reach the surface, and be able to breathe.

 

Life

Summer

Posted on by noemikjames / 8 Comments

It’s turning out to be a deliciously low key weekend. Of course, it’s not even half over, and my daughter’s been gone for all of it so far.

I will say that together my children create a certain amount of conflict that makes parenting one of them feel WAAAAY easier that it probably actually is. Not only do I only have to meet the needs of one child, which is logistically simpler, but I don’t have to keep the two of them from attacking each other while I’m attending to those needs. Parenting just one kid, when you’ve become accustomed to two feels like a vacation. You may even (GASP!) manage to get some shit done!

This morning my son and I had to stay at home until 10am so I could be at my computer at 10am for summer camp registration. By some miracle I got on the website not long after it went live (there was a lot of ERROR-SITE OVERLOAD messages and refreshing going on) and managed to get my daughter signed up for the four weeks of camp I needed at the end of her school year when I’m still teaching. My friend didn’t get on until 5 minutes after me and the first week of camp was already filled. Summer camp registration is no joke.

I also signed my daughter up for four weeks of drama and dancing camp at the end of the summer. There is a part of me that feels guilty about that–I’m off then and don’t NEED her to be in camp), but mostly I’m just really excited to have some me time to look forward to this summer. We’d both go crazy if she were home for ten weeks, I’m sure a fun camp will make those weeks more enjoyable for both of us.

I also need her in camp on of those weeks because I’m going to Colorado for five days to meet up with some blogging buddies and run a half marathon. I’m super excited for the trip, both to hang out with women who have become genuinely close friends (despite significant geographical distances, and never having met face to face) and to get away from my family for a bit.

We also have a trip planned as a family, to visit my aunts, uncles and cousins (and their kids) in St. Louis. My uncle recently bought a “farm” (basically a giant house on a ton of land) about an hour outside of the city and all of my father’s family (including my parents) will be spending 4th of July weekend there. Some of us will be staying at the farm for a whole week, including my cousin whose kids are almost exactly the same age and gender as mine. There is a quarry with water so clear you can see 60ft to the rocks below, with a pontoon boat for partying and a little row boat for fishing. There is also a creek winding through some trees, and fields of grass as far as the eye can see.

Growing up in Hong Kong we spent the entire summer in St. Louis and I am very close with my cousins. I love spending time with them and their kids, and I can’t wait for my kids to have some cousin time too. When we were young my uncle’s family (the same one who owns the farm) had a house in the Ozarks, right on the lake, and we spent a week there every summer fishing, water skiing and swimming off the dock. It was the one week my dad spent with us in the States, and the one week my aunts and uncles took off to hang out with us. Those weeks at the Ozarks hold my fondest childhood memories and I have high hopes that this new farm will be the back drop for the same happy times for my children. I really can’t wait to spend the week there, especially since it will probably be the last summer our grandmother will be with us to share in the fun.

The time has changed, the days are warmer and I definitely have summer on the brain. With the start of the third trimester we only have twelve weeks left of school. In two weeks it’s spring break and then a two month marathon to summer. Looking forward to that time, I’m thankful to have decided not to look for a new job. I’m elated that those weeks can be for me to replenish myself for the school year ahead.

What do you have planned for the summer months?

Life

Bric-a-brac

Posted on by noemikjames / 9 Comments

I’ve wanted to write this week, but by the time I get the dishes washed, lunches packed, coffee maker ready, laundry folded and clothes laid out, it’s already way past my bedtime. I’ve also had to utilize every minute of prep time at work just to stay on top of things. But now it’s Friday and there is just a little space to breathe, so I’m making the time to get a few thoughts down, before this week is over.

I did it! All by myself! I got the kids to school/daycare, and me to work, on time two mornings this week. It was chaos, and chocolate chip cookies were involved, but by gosh, we made it happen. I’m still in shock.

Springing forward totally threw us for a loop this year. My 2-year-old is still falling asleep LATER than he would have before the time change. Unfortunately he is not waking up later. I feel like I’ve been scammed. I’m not happy about it.

While I hate what it’s done to our sleep, I LOVE the lighter afternoons. Twice this week we took advantaged of the lingering sunlight to play at the park or scooter on the blacktop. The warm days after a week of grey wind and rain only added to our delight.

On a related note: my allergies are going crazy right now. A winter of decent rain fall, followed by warm sun equals crazy pollen counts. I want to rip my eyes out of my head and scratch my throat all day long. It’s miserable. My daughter has been similarly affected. Even my students have been commenting on it. It seems no one is safe.

My mother spent the night on Tuesday so she could take my son to school on Wednesday (I have to be at work earlier on Wednesdays and was worried that, with traffic, I wouldn’t make it). After she dropped him off, she went back to my house and did a big clean. It looks amazing, and I’ve been working hard all week to keep it picked up. I really do love a clean house. I hope that some day I can manage to keep our spaces neat. A girl can dream.

I don’t miss my husband yet but he’s only been gone three nights. Maybe after another two I’ll start to miss him? I’m kind of panicked that I never will miss him, and then I’ll wonder what that means.

I have not looked into marriage counseling yet; it’s on my to-do list for tonight. Nothing like cocktails, a movie and google-searching marriage counselors for a fun Friday night!

I went for a run yesterday and it ended up being one of the most unpleasant five miles of my life. I kept getting side stitches, and no amount of deep belly breathes kept them at bay. I was super tired the whole time, I actually had to work at not closing my eyes while I ran! It was the first day of my period, and my prolapse was uncomfortable. In the end my knee hurt and by the final mile my hips hurt. I never get knee or hip pain when I run so that was disconcerting. There are few times when I make myself exercise and regret it, but yesterday was definitely one of them. I am excited not to have to work out tonight though!

It was insanity getting my grades ready for Wednesday, but once that was done I road the wave of manic productivity and changed my general practitioner and my kids’ pediatrician to doctors at a new campus closer to my house. I am excited to have this excuse to ditch our pediatrician because I was not a fan, but I would have hated seeing someone else at her office (conflict averse much?!) lest I run into her in the waiting room one day. The new campus opening closer to us was a perfect excuse to switch, and I even got a recommendation from a friend for her pediatrician, who was taking on new patients!

This afternoon I’m seeing my new GP about some tendinitis/overuse pain in my pointer finger. It’s not bad, but it’s not getting better and I want to make sure I’m not doing anything to exacerbate it. I can’t decide if I’m going to ask her about this thing in my nose (I think a zit?!) that has been super painful for over a month. It’s in a weird spot that I can’t see, and it’s really bothering me, but I hate asking someone to look up my nose. Ugh. Noses are gross.

Rec and Park’s summer camp registration is this Saturday. I want to get my daughter into a really impacted camp for the first three weeks of her break because I still have school then. I will be at my computer at 10am vigorously refreshing the registration page. Crossing my fingers I get her in.

Thinking about summer camp has me thinking about summer break in general. I actually have two really fun trips planned this summer (more about them later), so I’m looking forward to July. I’m also thinking about having surgery for my pelvic organ prolapse in early August. I sent an email to my OB specialist to request an appointment to discuss the pros and cons again.

And…I guess that is it for now. I got through this insane week, and I’m still in one piece. Wonders never cease!

What are you up to these days?

Self-compassion

So why am I crying all the time?

Posted on by noemikjames / 6 Comments

I suspect some of you may be wondering why showing myself self-compassion has resulted in frequent cry-fests. Isn’t the point of being kind to myself to feel better?

I practice self-compassion when I’m in a situation that is conjuring strong emotions. Usually I’ve had a really draining altercation with my husband, or struggled to manage my kids challenging behaviors, or gotten a biting, blaming email from a parent, or identified some way in which I’ve failed to meet a goal. Before self-compassion I would either get angry, or resentful or guilt-ridden or some combination of the three, and then ultimately I would push down my negative feelings and go on my not-so-merry way.

Now, instead of getting angry or resentful or guilt-ridden, I validate the difficulty of the situation and how it makes me feel. Then I show myself kindness, assure myself that I’m worthy of love, and remember that all humans struggle. Suffering is a share human experience–the ultimate common denominator.

You might expect I could inform this little ritual and move on, but most of the time those steps are only the beginning. For some reason, validating my struggle and showing myself compassion usually touche some deep, long-ignored pain. It turns out I’ve spent a lot of years berating myself for not being the person I expect myself to be, for not sucking it up, for not being grateful enough, for not putting my suffering into perspective. I have belittled my feelings by comparing my circumstances to the truly unfortunate, found my own struggles lacking, and felt shame for my lack of emotional fortitude. Clearly I was told (or it was modeled) growing up that the acceptable course of action was to suck it up, and get over it.

All this denying my shameful feelings has led to a lot of repressed hurt. When I acknowledge my pain and disappointment, it activates similar pain and disappointment that I pushed down, and in some cases the activation is profoundly deep. Right now, showing myself love and compassion requires the lancing and irrigating old wounds. In the moment it’s an excruciating exercise, but it is also allowing deep, fester hurts to finally heal.

And healing does happen. I am starting to experience situations that always triggered a certain response in surprisingly different ways. I’m starting to see entrenched behaviors for what they are, without a bruised ego making excuses or blaming others. Hurts I didn’t know I was harboring are healing. Patterns are changing, or at least being recognized. Yes I am crying a lot, but they are ultimately productive tears, and I have faith that soon touching those old wounds won’t cause quite so much pain, and eventually practicing self-compassion won’t trigger a sob fest.

Life/Marriage/Parenting & Family/Self-compassion

Full Circle

Posted on by noemikjames / 12 Comments

{So this post started one way, and ended another. And the way it ended felt pretty profound. It may seem like I figured all this stuff out already– I’ve written all of these things before–but for some reason they came together with a kind of perfect clarity today, and instead of suspecting these truths, I suddenly knew them, deep in my bones. Like I had been looking at photographs of where I might get to be some day, and for the first time was actually seeing the place with my own eyes.}

It turns out, treating yourself with self-compassion is pretty time consuming. At least in the beginning, when doing so activates deep wells of hurt and you end up ugly crying on your bed, in your classroom, in your car.

It’s exhausting too. Emotional hangover abound.

Things with my husband are not great right now. He leaves for SXSW this coming Tuesday, so we’re just trying to get through the weekend so we can both have a break from each other. I brain farted at some point and thought he was leaving a week later than he was, and my nightmare scenario of having him gone the week grades are due is actually what’s happening. (Maybe the sheer panic of that reality forced me into denial!?) We’re both on autopilot, just trying to get through the days. Our kids need pretty much constant surveillance and micro-managing to avoid massive, screaming, physical altercations, so we’re both keeping our heads down and our mouths shut.

I know I’m the one who has to make the appointment to see a counselor if any appointment is going to be made. My husband just doesn’t do these things. His parents pestered us tirelessly about getting life insurance last year. I’ve had mine for almost 12 months–he still hasn’t taken the first step. I don’t know what kind of external pressure he needs to accomplish these things, but I don’t intend to put it on him about the counseling appointment. He expressed a willingness to participate and that is more than a lot of men would do. So now I need to put on my big girl pants and find a therapist and make the call. Of course, I don’t have the time for this shit either, but I’ll find a way to get it done, because that is what women are expected, and taught, to do.

I’ve been accessing self-compassion a lot these past few days–feeling like a failure in one’s marriage, and as a parent, can trigger some intensely negative emotions–and while I appreciate that it’s a much healthier way of dealing with these things, it can put me out of commission for a significant period, both during (see above: ugly cries) and after (see above: emotional hangovers). There are some days I start to repeat the self-compassion mantras and show myself the love and caring I need, and I have to shut it down because I know I don’t have 15 minutes to cry on the floor of the kitchen, or I don’t want my kids finding me red-eyed, with tears drying on my cheeks.

I’m sure that as I work with self-compassion more the emotions will be more manageable and the recovery time less restrictive, but right now the whole emotional ordeal of treating myself kindly is kind of prohibitive.

I’m also reading yet another book on discipline through connection (I have NOT been happy with how I’m handling my kids’ challenging behaviors and I need some reminders of what to do and why I need to do it) and while I absolutely agree with the premise and believe it’s the right method for me and my family, it requires–must like self-compassion–an abundance of time and emotional fortitude that I just don’t feel I have right now.

I am trying to find ways to carve out more time in our daily routine, so that we’re not so rushed when we get home to start bedtime and so I don’t feel quite so desperate for that last hour of quiet at the end of the night. I know a lot is going on, and tension with my husband (even if we’re successfully not engaging in negative interactions, which we’ve actually been pretty good at), is compounding the stress and emotional exhaustion I’m feeling right now. I know things are going to get better. But I am also recognizing that I need to make a lot of difficult, intentional choices about what our lives look like if I’m going to be able to show myself self-compassion, engage my husband with love and caring, and manage my children’s difficult behaviors with connection.

Looking at life through this lens, I think I would have to have find a dream job to even consider leaving my position next year. What I need to focus on right now is simplifying my life, by having less stuff and fewer commitments. I am already on this path, and even thought I’ve only taken small steps in this direction, I recognize that this is absolutely the path I need to be traveling. I think the desire to find a new job was the vestigial urge of a past self, a need to distract myself from everything I’m unhappy with, a shiny something NEW to focus on. The problem with that route is that eventually the new job won’t be new anymore, or it will be so time consuming as to override the positives of it being new, and I will be left with the same messes in my marriage and with my kids as I’m struggling with now.

I’ve written before about the emptiness I tend to feel in my life now that I’ve accomplished all my milestones. I think looking for a new job was an attempt to create a new milestone moment in my life. To have something to anticipate and look forward to. But I see now that this is not the time. Right now I need to focus my efforts on being the partner, parent and teacher that I want to be.

Have I decided this out of fear? Possibly. Honestly, even if I were, it’s okay. I truly believe staying at my job is the best thing for me right now, despite whatever might have inspired the decision. And I don’t think that is what’s going on. I came to the realization, right now, as I was writing this and lamenting how little time I have to show myself, my husband and my children, the love and care we all deserve, and suddenly it dawned on me that having a new job would mean I’d have even less time. Now I am sure that looking for a new job was not right for me, at least not right now.

And it feels good, actually, like my life has a purpose again. For the first time in a long time (maybe ever?!) I have a general understanding of where I want to go and the basic direction I should travel in to arrive there. I have spent my entire life looking for happiness outside myself, in stuff, in my circumstances. Evidently I needed to attain everything I always wanted to realize that none of it, not even all of it together could make me truly content. How ironic that I actually needed less to feel satisfied, that all that reaching for the things I thought I wanted actually added to the emotional dissonance that has forever hummed in the background.

Now I see the truth, and I know what I need to do. I really and truly know. I’m sure I’ll mess up, and take missteps, but I think it will be much easier to find my way back to the path now. I am finally on my way.

Identity/Life

Should I stay or should I go now?

Posted on by noemikjames / 6 Comments

I’m driving myself crazy thinking about my job. Do I want to stay? Do I want to leave? It’s gotten to the point that I don’t feel like I can trust my own thoughts on this stuff anymore.

The drama at work was resolved–quickly and crazily. Before they could count the official ballots for the “vote of no confidence,” we had a staff meeting. The first hour of it was business as usually. Then, without warning, our principal was at the front of the room announcing her resignation. It was a practiced and polished speech about how she needed to do this for her family and she feels drawn to working with recent immigrants, like she did when she first started teaching. It was made all the more awkward since we knew it was complete and utter bullshit–she had clearly been made aware of what was going on and saw the writing on the wall: either she resigned or had her name dragged through the mud. Understandably, she choose the former.

The speech was over in three minutes, but I couldn’t even look at her. I felt so bad. It was so awkward and horrible. I still can’t really believe it happened, even though I totally understand why it did.

Then our superintendent came to the front of the room. We didn’t even realize he had arrived. He quickly and unceremoniously announced that with our principal’s resignation he would be moving the principal from the other middle school into her position at the start of the new school year, moving up that school’s VP into the principal position, and opening their VP slot for someone new.

The best part about all this? The principal at the other middle school was our vice-principal ten years ago, and he was not particularly well-liked by much of our staff. He left our school to be principal at one of our district’s elementary schools, and then moved to the other middle school. I heard he was not well-regarded by the staff at the elementary school, but that they consider him competent enough at the middle school. He’s been there for several years now and successfully ushered them through some intense construction projects, which will being on our campus next year.

At the end of the announcement there was complete silence for an interminable amount of time. You could hear an eye blink, and it just kept going and going and going. The superintendent made some joke about how he finally knew how to get our staff to stop talking. No one even laughed nervously at that.

When he, and our vice-principal, finally left the room, two male teachers had to whip their dicks out about it, one wanting to bad mouth our new principal and the other insisting he shouldn’t try to sully the waters with his negativity. One of them left in a huff, muttering under his breath.

It was all so incredibly stressful.

With that change in leadership the staff will no longer be going after the vice-principal. She has been passed over as principal of our school twice now so I’m sure she’ll be looking for something elsewhere anyway. I’d be surprised if she were here next fall.

So that is that. I never had any problems with this man as our vice-principal, though he did seem a bit ineffectual when he was here. It sounds like he’s had ample time to grow and improve over the last decade and I’m determined to feel positively about his return. Our staff has run out the last three principals and as many vice-principals in the last decade, and the devil you know is usually safer than the devil you don’t.

All this means I don’t feel as much pressure about finding a new job for next year, which is good. I think about whether or not I actually want to leave a lot these days. I worry about all the prep time that will be needed at a new job, and the stress of learning a new school’s procedures and getting acquainted with their staff. I worry I won’t do a good job of teaching higher level Spanish, that my language skills aren’t up to par, that the pressure from parents will be intense.

This summer I will be paying for my son’s spot at day care and I intend to use it, at least some of the time. I will put my daughter in at least 4 weeks of camp as well. I had big plans to do a final push at the house, to really make some hard choices about what to get rid of and solidify habits that will ensure our space doesn’t become cluttered on a daily basis. I wanted to start cooking regularly so that I could bolster my skills during a low stress time, in the hopes that I would be able to fall back on those newly minted skills during the higher stress time of the school year. I wanted to just take some time for myself, and rediscover where my interests lie.

If I get a new job I’ll spend all summer packing my old classroom, getting acquainted with the curriculum, prepping for the first months, and setting up my new classroom. I would definitely have the time to do all of that, which is a big plus, but I wouldn’t have time to do any of what I was originally planning, which is a big minus because I’ll need the uncluttered house and the low-grade cooking skills would really help next year, when I’ll have less time, and be more stressed, than I am now.

And intriguing things are happening at my school next year too. It is clear that the district and board assume our pilot is a formality and that we will adopt a partial block schedule with FLEX times next year. I would love to teach creative writing or some other class once or twice a week. I also recognize a need for me to reinforce my classroom management skills, which I’ve let lapse out of sheer exhaustion since my son was born. Classroom management has never been my strong suit, but I do believe I could do a much better job if I had the time to focus on it. Strengthening that skill would make me a much more effective teacher.

My Spanish skills themselves have been lapsing as well. I don’t talk to my kids in Spanish nearly as much as I used to, and I listen to English books on tape much more frequently than Spanish. I need to make Spanish a priority again, especially if I want to teach higher level classes.

It may seem obvious that I’m leaning more towards staying, and I do admit that’s my current inclination. But I’m not sure if I feel that way because I’m scared of change, or failure, or both. I still plan on applying for some high school positions, but I think I’m doing so with the hopes of NOT getting the jobs, so that I can tell myself that moving right now isn’t an option and I can stop wondering what I should do. The thought of getting offered a job, and actually having to make a choice, is terrifying. It’s so terrifying that I worry I won’t put my best foot forward in the application/interview process, that I’ll subconsciously sabotage myself to ensure I’m not faced with a choice.

My thoughts are so twisted around on this topic that I don’t feel like I can trust my own inclinations right now. I’m not sure if I think one thing because I actually think it, or I’m scared or I’m avoiding some other unidentified emotion. It’s exhausting, and I have so much going on right now, I can’t burn mental energy endless dancing around all the possible what ifs? I’m driving myself crazy.