29 Again

David has been attending a summer reading program at a local university, 4X a week in the AM. The class is geared for kids that need a little extra help with reading, and the goal is to bring them up to grade level (or exceed, which most of them do by the end of the clinic). The program is one of the best in the region where I live, and it's not that easy to get into it.

To get David in, I basically had the program's secretary on speed-dial from February onwards, and literally hand-delivered forms to ensure our paperwork was first in. Once accepted, the children are tested, and then separated into small groups (not more than 2 kids per tutor). The tutors are graduate students, mostly, and they work under several professors.

You may be wondering, "hey Shelli, how are you working if you are taking David to this class?"  Let me tell you, it puts a serious dent in my working schedule. I am basically M.I.A. from 8:30am to 11:15am. I'm sure my co-workers think I am working on a tan in the mornings.   Bonus! Major university.. no public wifi. That's right, no Internet connection. The closest wifi is at McDonald's about 4 miles away. Thank goodness I have a boss who understands and likes me.  Maybe she won't after this summer.

So I download my e-mail before we leave in the AM, and just spend the time doing what I can do offline while I wait.

The reality... I'll do whatever it takes to ensure David is successful in school. He had a rough year academically, and we are just catching up to grade level with the help of this course.  I am grateful every day I walk onto campus that David has this opportunity.

So, it's been three weeks into this course, and I am getting to know and talk to the other parents that are there.  Mostly moms, a sprinkling of dads.

Some observations:
1. Most of the moms that wait with me in the waiting area are teachers themselves, that is perplexing to me, somewhat, but I do get that they are hooked into the latest and greatest, and this is it. I guess even Moms who teach have their limits. lol.

2. The other moms are SAHM's and bored to tears. They are there because they just want their child in an activity that is learning focused. They make me jealous talking about their large swimming pools.

3. The tiger moms. I say "tiger" because, if I said "cougar" you might think they were there to troll for hot male grad students. But no, these are not older women (like me?) they are simply barracudas when it comes to their kids. By "barracuda" I mean, their kids already have reading skills above average... but they want their child to be THE BEST. IN. THE. UNIVERSE!!

That last observation sets me off. I mean, there are people who COULDN'T get in the program because these jack-o-lanterns (that's Mom speak for jackasses) push their kids way beyond center.  Argh, they are on the soccer field AND here too!!  groan.............

I am just so perturbed by that.

Annoyed.

So, here's a funny story about today in the waiting room. A dad sat down next to me... I thought he was a student, but he's like 30, with 4 kids.... hmmmmm.... did I mention he was extremely good looking? Anyway... we got to talking about what we do for a living, he saw my laptop, and eye-rolling commenced. I thought he was aiming at me (what did I do NOW?!), but he was actually eye-rolling the barracuda mom on the other side of the room PAINTING HER NAILS IN THE PUBLIC WAITING ROOM. To which he whispered, "are you the only normal mom here?" LOL.

It gets better.

He asked me about David, and then the loaded question... "do you have any more kids?"

Oh, no he didn't!  I was just starting to like this guy.

I evaded... no I didn't really... I think I just said... "no, but we wanted more." Then he started talking about someone he knew that just had twins and added "get this, can you believe she is 44 years old????"

I smiled (ok, I laughed in my head and almost peed myself). The I said, "well, I wished that had happened to me!"

To which he replied, "well, gosh your so young, you have time!"

bwahahahaha!

OMG. What did he just say???

This guy has NO FLIPPIN' IDEA that I am 42 years old.

Dude, you made my day....

BLESS YOU.

Failure is not an option

I was extremely efficient last week.

Remember that list of a million things I talked about? I was knocking them off one by one.

Here's the thing about lists that is no surprise to anyone- after one list is done another one takes its place. I used to be a woman of few lists. I was so adept at getting crap done, by the time I sat down to make a list I didn't need to write it down.

Then, over the last few years, I started to morph into a person with multiple lists and post-it notes. It is maddening. Especially when I know I used to be good at it.

I was watching a show on cable not long ago... well, let me digress for a little background... I upgraded my cable at home and now I get e-v-e-r-y channel on earth- even all the pay channels (for a promotional period of course). So when I am wide awake and stressed at night I watch TV, specifically movies and reruns of "Top Chef" and "Say Yes to the Dress"... ummm, yeah...don't ask about that second one. I got married 15 years ago and yet I still love looking at wedding dresses. Don't judge me.

Anyway..I had been watching a movie (can't remember which) and one of the lines from a character in it resonated with me:

"I don't try anymore, because I am afraid. It is much easier to not try at all. If I don't bother, I don't have to worry about being a failure."

Boom.

It was as if a giant arrow virtually appeared above my head pointing down at me... THIS IS YOU STUPID.

...Well, damn! No wonder I am procrastinating lately. It was as if that one line was written expressly to me.

(mental note, mention this to Dr. Anne)

The next day I was wandering around the house and looked at projects that were unfinished or never started at all. And it dawned on me that I am my own roadblock to ever being that person from years ago that went missing during infertility treatment. I am letting my failures beat me every single day.  Still.

I won't try because I am afraid. Every friggin' day.

Therefore, nothing gets done. And the list grows longer.  And I get mad at myself.

The cycle is never-ending.

Hell, I have a project (related to my biggest failure) that I am not even blogging about here. Why? Because if I commit to it here, in THIS place, it's as if I am setting myself up to fail.

Finally, it all becomes clear. The tragic part?  My greatest relief, writing, has been a victim of my own crazy neuroses. Somehow I have grown to expect that bad luck is hiding in the shadows, just lurking and waiting to jump out and tear my heart to pieces.

The monster that I blogged about during my egg donor cycle has exacted its final blow.

It seems that I myself have become the monster I always dreaded.

How's that for self-realization???

I had a dream last night, like many of the ones before it, but this one was different. In this dream I wasn't running or hiding. I was happy. A person I've never met told me a secret, and it was the best news ever. It felt real. I woke up feeling elated. Positive, and with new purpose. Determined to make my dream a reality.

If I can change, I can stop making lists and start focusing on today.

Perhaps I can escape the sense that I am a victim, and start acting victorious.

It's a tall order, but something I need to do.

I'm adding it to my list, pronto.