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Monday, April 12, 2010

I Have No Idea About The Color of My Parachute.

Joel fell out of bed last night. His bed is a mattress on the floor, so there was no damage done that a kiss and a re-tuck couldn't remedy. He was back to sleep in less than a minute. 

I wish I could say the same. I was awake in bed, listening to my mind sing its evil little song  from 2:30 to 5:30 AM. It's like getting a super-annoying song in your head, like "Who Let the Dogs Out?" or "Smooth Criminal."

By the way, I know I just did that to you. You're welcome.

When I can't sleep, I hear a nonstop, extended slow-jam of the timeless ditty, "Someday you're going to have to go back to work."Usually, this song is sung by the Chipmunks, because that adds to the madness. Just once, I wish my bedtime neurosis would be sung by John Lennon. 

The plan has always been that we will get by--somehow---until both boys are in school. Then, I'll go back to full-time employment. The most logical way to go would be to return to teaching. I would make decent money, be on the same schedules as the boys, and I'm good at it.

Yet, the thought of it, at least at the wee hours of the morning, fills me with dread. I'm tired of it. I don't want to grade stacks of essays in the evenings. I don't want to ever teach anybody about a thesis statement EVER, EVER, EVER again. I don't want to listen to a principal drone on about meeting Annual Yearly Progress in all targeted sub-groups. I just don't.

I ran through some ideas in those early hours:

1) Have another child, to prolong the inevitable. This is a terrible idea on so many levels. We have no room. I don't like babies. Paul doesn't want another baby, either.

2) Homeschool. It's fine for many. However, to steal my own comment from Tracie's blog: "Some people create learning communities with their children. If I was to homeschool, it would be something out of Apocalypse Now." The horror. The horror.

3) Try to get a job as a technical writer for the federal government. Could I? Could I seriously sit in an office all day writing memos for the Department of Agriculture?

4) Write the Great American Novel. Ah, yes, but that would involve not being lazy. 

5) Sell Mary Kay/Tupperware/Pampered Chef/Creative Memories/Sex Toys/Jewelery.... I can't. I don't have that saleswoman instinct. Bless your heart if you can, because those woman are  business moguls. Seriously.

As you can see, I found no magical answers despite my fretting. Yet, things look less dire in the morning light. After all, it is four years away. Things will be different. The boys will be different. These things always work themselves out.

Besides, in a world where beautiful things like this grow from simple brown seeds....


 ...I simply choose to believe that there is a plan for my life, and it will bloom in a surprising, delightful way.

17 comments:

blueviolet said...

I do believe the pieces will fall in place for you. I really do.

SamiJoe said...

ALL of these thoughts are mine too. Hold of till bubbas are in school fulltime.
Daycare runs about $60 a day here!!

BTW-what are you growing?? Those looks fabulous!

Aunt Becky said...

Things will work out for you. I feel the same way about mornings. Always with the dread.

Melani said...

I am sure you will figure something out, you could always babysit a kid or 2 or have them after school....

mama-face said...

Although I am no great example of living as I believe, I truly do believe that things work out as they should and we all need to take it one day at a time and let the future take care of itself.

I was up for a couple of hours worrying about new flooring. seriously. gah.

Bekah said...

To repeat others, things WILL work out. They just do. In the meantime, here is a plan B: win the lottery?

Tracie said...

I forgive you for the earworms because I lurve you.

Are you saying that blogging is not a lucrative career option?

PS Thanks for the link. Your comment still cracks me up.

June said...

Four years is a long way off... Enjoy the time now and keep planting those good seeds!

Robin said...

Yes the pieces always seem to fall into place..I mean I used to worry that my hubs was going to fall into the cesspool..he didnt...and that I wouldn't be able to afford college for the kids..well I still cant,..LOL but she went and the point is we're making it, and my older graduates BA in December, it happened all so nicely too..none of the things I spent time worrying about ever, ever happened...Peace and Joy to you..!

Mama Zen said...

I feel like I'm in the same situation, except I'm not four years away! I'm a former special ed teacher, and the thought of ever conducting another IEP meeting makes me want to hid beneath something large.

Ms. Moon said...

You can steal my dream- being a waitress at the truck stop. I could walk to work.

Cheeseboy said...

These are some amazing goals. You should go for the American novel idea. Ah, yes... the laziness. I have the same issue.

dek said...

Usually, this song is sung by the Chipmunks, because that adds to the madness. Just once, I wish my bedtime neurosis would be sung by John Lennon.

Pure poetry. Amen, sister! Err...cousin.

Cat said...

Things will fall into place. It may be messy getting there and there may be false starts along the way, but you'll find what works for you.

only a movie said...

I love that last line.
Have you considered special education? Literacy consultant?
I feel compelled to say that you'd make a wonderful Dread Pirate Roberts... :-)

Bethany said...

This made my eyes fill up for some reason.
You're right, it will be okay.
I love your mix of funny and soulful. It gets me everytime.

What are those beuaitufl green creatures you are growing? I am reading backwards, catching up, so maybe you will say? Wow.

Who let the dogs out? Woof, woof woof, woof woof.
Back atcha!

Marla said...

I'm going through the same thing right now. This post has great perspective. Thanks, Nancy!