Almost two weeks ago, on the drive to my daughter’s therapy appointment, I was thinking about how wild it was that just the week before, we had some of the coldest weather of the winter (below zero temps), yet that Thursday, it was in the 70s, and I had to turn on the A/C in my car. My body and mind had already blocked out the torment of the cold, and were fully rejoicing in the warmth as if winter had never happened. The next day, I was racing to be ahead of the first storm/tornado warning of the season on my way home with my oldest for spring break. Two days later, winter came back. Then warm again. Then, a few days ago, the full range in one day. Thunderstorms, hail, and then snow. Just a dusting, but still. My body is in a state of confusion. One day it’s “Ah, this is so nice! I’m so glad that winter is finally over,” and the next, it’s “Fuck. Why is it cold again? I thought we were done with this!”
The last few weeks have been a lot. I have had so much going on, and did nonstop running pretty much every day. Or nonstop sitting if I wasn’t running. 23 Parent-teacher conferences for three kids at two different schools. My youngest’s “Spring Showcase” band performance. Final grades were due in a class I was teaching (with an influx of late work up until the last minute). Incompletes to issue. Student emails to respond to. Show Choir Show Off (to see my niece play in the pit band for her high school’s show choir). IEP meeting. Kid therapy sessions, my therapy sessions. 22 nonfiction entries to read and judge for this year’s Iron Pen contest.
Two weeks ago, I was off and running from the time I got up and got the kids to school each morning. I had stuff going on during the day, they had stuff in the evening. It was run, run, run, crash.
It didn’t help that daylight savings was mixed in there as well. My body is still adjusting. My body laments that missing hour every morning when it pops up at 7:30 am and needs one more hour of sleep (and thinks, just a couple of weeks ago, it would have been 6:30). If it wasn’t a kid week, I would make myself sleep until at least 7:30 each morning.
I ran and ran until I got home from Ames with my oldest last Friday night. And we ran hard, trying to beat the storm home and not get caught up in it.
Then, last week, most days I sat around and waited. Waited for my oldest to get up (the others were with their dad for Spring Break this year). Waited for my mom to get up to see if she needed me to do anything for her. Waited to find motivation. Waited to procrastinate more. Waited until it was time to do something. Waited to see if I would get a new teaching contract since the class I was supposed to start teaching on Tuesday got canceled due to low enrollment. Spoiler alert- no new contract yet. Waited to see if my therapist, who discharged me as a client the previous week so that I could work for her (with a business idea I had told her about during a therapy session last year), would send me any information to start work. Spoiler alert- nope. She asked me to meet with her on Friday to tell me what she had done (discharging me as a patient so that I could work for her) was unethical. So, no job, and no therapy until I find a new therapist.
I’m either running, or at a standstill. Doing all the things or none of the things. There’s never a lack of things to do around the house, but, those things seem to take more energy than I have at any given moment. And after weeks of running, I need a period of rest. It always seems that before I have been able to catch my breath, here comes another week of running.
I’m taking my oldest back today. Every time I have to take him back, it makes me sad. This time even more so because he’s not doing well in his classes, and I feel like I have failed him on too many levels.
I procrastinated making breakfast/brunch to prolong his visit just a bit. The last homemade meal he’ll have for a couple of months (unless he wants to come home for a weekend before the semester is over). Comfort food: biscuits and gravy.
It’s a good day to be all in my feelings and sad. It’s a dreary rainy day. At least it’s warm enough that it’s not snow. And at least it’s just rain and not storms or severe weather. It’s a fitting mood for six-seven hours in the car.