It’s been a dreary many months. It’s been cold and wet and cloudy. I, for one, have been in need of some sunshine.
It’s been a dreary many months. It’s been cold and wet and cloudy. I, for one, have been in need of some sunshine.
Anxiety.
It’s no joke. It can squeeze the life right out of you. It’s an invisible battle that no one knows you are fighting unless you clue them in. Longtime sufferers may be able to disguise it with chatter of busyness and being tired from said busyness. They may even plaster a smile on their face and toss a little more on their already overfilled plate to throw off the scent.
She insisted on looking at her list before bed last night. We had already planned on going to the children’s museum but she just wanted to make sure.
Yes. The moose-um would be fun.
Spring Break officially began today…as in today was the first day we were able to turn off the alarm. We have been talking about what we wanted to do over our week long vacation from school when McK decided that we needed to come up with a plan. So here it is…an almost 4 year old’s spring break bucket list.
G wet through his overnight diaper. Again. I strip the bed and gather all the laundry from his room. I walk to McK’s room and grab hers along with all visible yellows. Those things need to be cleaned. It all gets tossed into our giant front loader washing machine. It’s 9:30 AM.
It’s rare that my husband and I get to go out on a really real date. Between classes and homework, kid and homeowner responsibilities we are too busy or tired to fit it into our already overfilled schedules.
I wasn’t always nearly as type A as I am now. Something happened somewhere post college to make me need to micromanage most parts of my life (just don’t look in my purse). I became an organizer and planner. Not having a plan gave me super high anxiety.
It’s the end of the day. One child is in bed and the other is stalling with requests for the bathroom, her song, and just one more hug. I am emotionally exhausted. This last push before spring break has taken its toll on me. My house looks like a tornado went through it. G-man has discovered the joys of the Tupperware drawer and McK has every doll she’s ever played with on the floor.
Every mom needs a tribe. I have several I turn to for different reasons. My BFF is practically my sister. My sisters have been stand-ins for my mom as I learn how to navigate parenting. The PTA is always ready to grab sushi while we gab about our children, jobs, and the next kids’ event we are planning. My fake friends know my deepest, darkest secrets. My classmates keep me sane through the most insane of semesters. My Mac pals are always up for a girls’ night out even if we can manage it a few nights a year.
I teach students with multiple disabilities. Some are more complex than others. Today I was working with a 6th grader I’ll call Jessie. He’s a cool kid who uses a wheelchair to move about the building. Jessie has a lot to say but has difficulty actually saying it. You see, even though he is very vocal, his actual voice doesn’t work the same as yours or mine.