A new school term - yay!

Sometimes I write posts that I don’t feel comfortable posting because they reveal the personal imperfections of my life. That life isn’t always roses and chocolates and that as much as I love him sometimes I want to brain my spouse with the nearest lamp. Things always sound harsher when written out. When I’m feeling vulnerable I just can’t put a post up like that and often I accomplish the mental exercise that blogging is for me by writing these posts and not posting them. Today I’ve written one of those posts and I will post it because I feel comfortable letting people know my life and my marriage isn’t perfect. I think I feel comfortable posting it because as imperfect as it is, I know it’s all right and that things are really fine.

Daniel started back to school yesterday. I thought I was dreading it. Last term seemed awful. For me, it was lonely and exhausting. I never saw him. I juggled almost all the kid and household responsibilities on my own. I felt like a shrew and a nag every time I had to ask him to do something that he should have been doing without prompting. I felt like I had three children. I only wanted two. The worst part was I don’t think he noticed what the rest of his family was enduring; he was too caught up in his own private hell.

Admittedly I’ve put A LOT of pressure on him. I didn’t agree with his decision to go back to school (for numerous good reasons) and in the middle of a nasty argument I told him so (I had kept that nugget bottled up for far to long as a result it could have been handled MUCH better). My parting words of “support” were something along the lines of “if you’re going to do this don’t screw it up… again (his extensive history with education – this is the 5th time he’s been to college - is less than stellar).”

Daniel isn’t a good student – although he did very well last term. He’s smart enough but he procrastinates terribly and he plans badly (when he plans at all). He’s up until 3 am every morning studying but then he spends what alone time he does have at home (golden time in my humble opinion) sleeping because he was up all night studying – duh! He has a bizarre moral code (i.e. they are allowed a “cheat” sheet for an exam but he doesn’t think its fair so he doesn’t prepare one? What’s that all about?). As an example of his planning skills – each week last term he had a test to complete before midnight on Sundays. So when would he start that test? 9 or 10 o’clock Sunday night at the very earliest; then he had to prep for his lab the next day. I have no idea what time he’d get to bed but never before 2 am. He had to be at school on Monday mornings for 8 which meant leaving the house no later that 5:45. It hurts my body to even think about. I don’t get it.

Yes, I was a procrastinator as a student to so maybe I shouldn’t be calling the kettle black but I also had no other responsibilities. I could afford to just do whatever I wanted. Who cared if I slept until noon and went to bed at 4 am? I don’t think Daniel can afford to follow these habits – I don’t think he realizes this… still… even after having completed an entire term. But he passed his classes last term and after my oh so helpful counsel last summer I’ve said VERY little about how he is choosing to go about this. It’s not my money (he has a job training grant that covers his tuition and books) and he’s a grown adult.

Still I have a demanding job. I’m doing that job as a single parent and I can get a little resentful. This term Daniel gets home after 7 pm a minimum of three nights a week (he rarely starts before noon). I’m almost positive that will slide to 4 nights a week with the odd 5th night where he NEEDS to go back to campus for x. I’ll pick the kids up from my parents’ house after work; feed them dinner; get piano practice, swimming lessons, homework, and/or hockey practice taken care of. I’ll do the bedtime routine. I’ll read stories. I’ll take care of all the forms and notes they bring home from school. I’ll organize lunch boxes. I’ll collapse into bed and then I’ll hear the rattle of the front door being opened. Last term it was mind numbing.

But last night, I picked the kids up; grabbed some almond guy ding and rice for dinner from the local Chinese take-out place. Fed the kids. Got homework and piano practice done and was washing the dishes when Daniel arrived home “early” at about 7:00 pm. I wasn’t expecting him. I was happy to see him but kind of disappointed because I was “in the zone.” Things were under control. I had developed a rhythm and I was content. I had a plan. Kid’s to bed – me to bed with a little TV. Ummm…. easier without him around? Yikes. Anyway it was the first time all day when I hadn’t dreaded the coming 16 weeks. Hmmmm…

My parents – my support last term, are leaving for 6 weeks in the Caribbean. They are our only source of childcare. The kids take the school bus to their house afterschool. I will need to shift my hours on Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursdays to be home to meet the school bus. I’m hoping it stays quiet enough at work to make this doable. I will try to work 7:30 am – 300 pm and I have a very lovely blackberry (as my boss reminded me; yuck!). The 7:30 start will be hard to adjust to (means leaving home at 6:30 am in the cold dark dead of winter) but I’m looking forward to ALL that extra time in the afternoon. I’m looking forward to being home at 4:00 pm and cooking dinner and handling piano and homework in a normal and relaxed way.

Daniel’s class schedule means that my one night to myself a week – practice with our community concert band – may have to be sacrificed because we don’t have any other childcare. I’m not sure I mind. While, I enjoy those outings (and think they are good for me) after a long day at work it is always an effort to go. Still I might just go a little late each week (so that I put the kids to bed before leaving the house) and hire the twins across the street to watch the kids for a few hours.

I’ve planned for this term. I’ve planned to handle things on my own. I’ve planned to fill my own time with my own activities. I’ve planned not to rely on my husband for anything. I take incredible amounts of comfort in planning and after all that planning I guess there isn’t much to dread.