I don’t get precious over Mother’s Day things. This time of year I’m too exhausted to care. You also start to realize that for as much as motherhood has shaped and completely upended your life, there are other women in the world who are still alive and gave a strong majority of their years and energy to make sure you turned out to be a halfway decent person who had food, toilet paper, and clean clothes on most days.
For a much as I’ve learned about not having to strive to earn anybody’s approval, I can still get so offended and fall into the trap of wanting it badly. I don’t even need the celebration or praise, just don’t be mean or say something that hurts me. Back then my life and sacrifice felt so unseen. It’s not my life so much now, it’s my need and intentions. Most days I don’t blame them. I’m older, less active. I’m not the same person.
I didn’t think it’d be possible to feel any more invisible than I did in those days, but every so often I still deeply do. And that still isn’t even where the pain is from now. I don’t need to be seen. Or understood. Or admired. To stop hurting would be nice but who has control over that? There’s enough joy in my days that it needn’t depend on this one. I don’t know what I need now. I think I need it to be okay that I’m less.
It feels super good to be done with another semester. Yesterday I finished the last of my assignments and today I had my final three hours to meet my 375 hour goal. I have two clients currently who I will see over break. They can’t count as hours but it can count as volunteering. I would go for group too except that I really need the mornings for other things this coming month which is somehow already basically a third over.
Josh left this morning to pick up Ethan from school. His Twilight meet this year was only two days past the end of his semester and he was hoping to run and get his first sub 2 in the open 800 (he’s done it in relay splits). He’s caught the 400 bug from his younger brother and so was going to run that too. He actually ran about 100 meters of it before he suddenly started hopping and slowing down and I couldn’t see anymore than that.
He got a hamstring cramp which has never happened to him before. So he stopped right away and the coach ended up telling him not to run the 800. He wasn’t happy about having to end the season on a bad note but he still has a lot to be proud of and grateful for this season. Dad is going to stay overnight in his room and their plan is to leave tomorrow morning early to drive all the way to Pana where the kids have a meet.
The best runners in college can have sub 1:50 800’s. It’s pretty crazy. It’s about as crazy as the pace of life can be at times. Today in group we watched this video about a younger man who died from a heroin overdose. It was a hopeful story about redemption, hope, and forgiveness. It made me think about the people in high school who were considered the druggies and I wished I and others had been kinder to them.
The whole thing was pretty emotional. The kids and I went to ice deli this evening which is this place that opens in summer season and sells snow cones. I had absolutely no desire to try one. Zorro started barking from the van so I went and sat with him. There were a few other camp kids hanging around so they talked at the picnic tables for a while. Zorro was fine once someone was in there. It was a nice evening out together.
I’ve been struggling with my ability to write and then leave it which is why this is going to be my third attempt at saying something. They say you can only take people as deep as the healing that you have personally gone through and I feel like the same applies to writing and interacting. I watch a video and someone points out how the client mentions at least two different feeling words which I proceed to gloss right over.
Where it’s kind of like, yeah, okay, it makes sense that you’re feeling that but what’s the point of exploring it? It does all seem terribly self-absorbed and repetitive. There is that element to which we become numb to our feelings or anyone else’s to the point that we do not even realize they’re there. Am I saying I’m numb right now, no, but you can just be so caught up with life that there isn’t the luxury of sitting down to process things.
I’m at the point with my house where the solution seems none other than to move or burn it down. To spend any more time cleaning it seems like a most unproductive use of my time. And yet that is what I am turning to do, somewhere wanting and looking forward to even. I could blame every cat, creature, and human for this state and I would not be wrong. But why the tears now? It’s because I know somewhere I have no choice.
I haven’t had much time to write. When I do have the time I haven’t had the energy. We had our social justice class today and were supposed to finish up with speaking a little about our projects. We ran out of time before I had a chance to go and so I told the teacher I could stay after class but she couldn’t. So I got her number and said I would text about setting up a time to meet via Zoom or on campus.
We also had this 10-page policy paper we were supposed to write if we were unable to attend Counselor Day on the Hill which was something I couldn’t go to because it happened when I was in Gulf Shores. I told her about this and that they were long standing plans that couldn’t be changed. She said she’d put a link in Canvas where we could turn them in but I have seen anywhere to turn it in.
Wouldn’t it be wild if I just didn’t end up having to do either one? I told her when I talked to her that ten pages seemed like maybe too much and that I would gladly do five. At this point I’m going to make sure I at least turn in something so I have the email that shows that I sent it. There is a homeschooling bill getting a lot of press around here and so I thought I’d write about that. They say she won’t even read it.
Elianna had her senior prom this evening. She left around 9 to be at Clara’s by 9:30. The girls were doing their own nails. She came home for a short time and at 11:45 the two of us left to head back into town. She had an appointment for makeup and hair, one at noon and the other at 1. I’m feeling more and more inspired whenever I’m around these hair and makeup places. These girls always look so glam and put together.
Like it wouldn’t be that hard to just put in some effort, to make it part of your routine. Her makeup girl did a beautiful job. The hair person was running behind with another client so they asked another girl to stay past her shift and do her hair. I felt bad for the worker girl but was glad that she stayed. They use pictures on their phones that the clients bring in and then try to copy what they see. I thought she did a good job too.
We drove home. I went back to bed because I was tired and had given up on it being my homework/paper writing day. It has to be close enough to the due date for that to happen. Instead I focused on simple chores like laundry and sweeping. I have these plans that in the month of May when I’m not in any classes I will get the house put back together. I will have that time to focus and direct my energies toward the cleaning.
Elianna left to meet up with Miles. He was able to leave early from helping with the tear down after graduation. A little while later I left too to meet up with the parents for pictures. They took them at a church downtown that had possible rain coverage. The girls looked absolutely stunning in their makeup and dresses. Another mom and I started to tear up but we choked it back and let them stay behind the eyes for now.
Next was the senior walk. Dad and I left home around 6:45 to be there in time for 7:15. I’d never been to one of these. Josh’s sister was there since she’s in town helping my mother-in-law after her knee replacement surgery. Elianna’s dress was the dress she wore for her own senior prom. So that was kind of fun and it was interesting seeing everyone’s dresses and hearing about everybody’s post-high school college plans.
The baseball team was standing behind us. They decided to all take each other as dates so the upper classman paired up and brought all the younger ones. I thought about taking a picture and sending it to Ethan but then I was like “no, stay in the present, stay in the present…” and turned around and forgot about them. They have a new coach this year and their team has over 10 wins this season so far. They are 2nd in conference.
So that’s pretty cool. Josh and I hugged Elianna goodbye and I cried once we both had gotten back in the car. It was just such a beautiful night and she looked so pretty. Some of these kids are really great people. Earlier in the week Elianna saw a rainbow while out getting earrings. She texted me and told me about it but when I went outside to see if I could see it I couldn’t. She’s told me at times that I am wrong and I know she is right.
I’ve really enjoyed group the past couple of times. It’s becoming more comfortable to say things when I think of them. I think about things so much and feel like I have a good understanding, but the difficulty I can have when it comes to moving it from my head to my mouth has been kind of eye opening for me. I guess the only way to change it is to keep doing it, hopefully. The people in group are becoming endearing.
You get to know them and become familiar with their problems, lives, and quirks. There are those hang ups that people have and their personal looping ruminations where you wonder why they can’t get past it and you think you know what would help if they’d do it. But everyone is moving at an individual pace and the point isn’t usually to speed them up. The point is to use and honor the time that they took to show up.
The kids had a track meet in Carlinville. This is another one I’d never been to. It was nice because we all rode together for the 43 mile drive. Zorro came too and did well in the car. Ethan had his conference meet and at one point I was watching two different races in two different states. The sophomore boys formed a 4×4 relay over this past week so we stayed for that. I like the track meets for the races and family times.
How it is May already God only knows. Laura’s mom and I met for lunch this afternoon and at some point I asked her if she ever looks back on the earlier mom days and wonder? She said she does, and we both agree that they some of the hardest days of our life, and at the same time gave us some of the best memories. This is something my kids don’t get, and felt like something my class didn’t get when I was talking.
But she did. I will look back and think sometimes, “This was my life’s work. Nothing will ever top this.” I mean in the joy. And I don’t mean it so much as a sad thing as in it’s something that I’m losing. The joy is something that is lasting and grows, and you think to yourself, “How does this happen?” How does a memory produce tears, but this time the tears are not bitter. They are honoring the love that changed my heart.
The tears have been more lately. When I placed a picture in my project that I later took down because it felt like a brag. So many of those pictures were mostly for me. They were my way of staying present and whole when time would’ve crushed me and blew me away. That’s what it’s like, like I’m blowing away, and somehow becoming one with the earth, to keep on nourishing and keep on feeding, to keep on loving in ways.
“The elder to the beloved Gauis, whom I love in truth.” ~3 John1~
The good news is that I finished my grid. The news that I was much less happy about is when I handed my teacher the packet full of all the required parts, she showed me the grading checklist and said she actually didn’t need this part since I was only doing it for practice. The look on my face had to have been something like, “Uhhhh, excuse me???” I didn’t just spent the last two days working to get this done for it to only be practice.
There was some verbal exchange for clarification, in front of the class, where I am calculating now what will have to be redone. A new video. A new critique form. A new multiple page case summary. She said she thought she knew it was practice because I’d also said that I’d do it in the summer. She thought it be nice for the new, non-graduating students to see. I said I’d be happy to show it to them as an example.
But ultimately, if I could, I wanted to get the thing done and out of the way. That was a previous conversation we’d had, along with another where she had told me she’d gone to the faculty and asked about what the situation was with me and my grid. Long story short there was a misunderstanding and I have to do my final grid in the semester that I am graduating. I had thought that if I did it now then it’d be one less thing to do later.
It’s times like this that make me question my own mind. I was so sure this is what she’d said yet I had spent the whole past week with my actions dictated by a false understanding. To be fair, it was not my best work, and having a great presentation was not the goal I had for this grid. It was to check the box and get it done. It was to come out of my shell a little more and let the girls in my class see another part of my life.
I’d cut a corner on the reference page. Have I already said that I went ahead and just showed it? I came to the part about my grandma’s description of how she talked about her five different lives that were broken up in twenty year increments. I told the class that the part I was focusing on had mostly to do with my second set of 20 years, my second life. Almost immediately there was the voice to add, “Well that’s presumptuous.”
But I kept going. I felt good while I was doing, like it was resonating and making sense. I love my feminist RCT theory. But then the feedback wasn’t even great, and I’d wondered somehow if I’d made them uncomfortable, if it that moment of finding out the truth that the frustrated, angry eye look had leaked too much from my face. The first two sections, they unanimously agreed, seemed instead to be purely educational.
It was missing me in those parts. This was actually something I’d prided myself on and thought I was doing right and better. I would actually get slightly annoyed and judgy every time I saw the presentation words “I believe…”. Like, this wasn’t about what you believe, it’s about teaching us about the theory and showing you actually understand it. So now I’m already thinking about how I’m going to fix and make it better for next time.
I’ll feel like I’ve kicked this part of me out, then something happens and it’s obvious, “Oh. You’re still there”. The pride that I want nothing to do with. The cockiness and arrogance that isolates others and blinds me with a smug satisfaction when I think I’ve got the advantage. I would’ve been happy with a 3, “Proficient”. But now I’m going to go to my professor and say I’m settling for nothing less. I’m getting the 4, the “Exemplary”.
“I thought you said you slept well last night”, he said, peeking in the bedroom door while taking a break from the mowing. “I did”, I said back, “but I’m completely depleted.” We said nothing more as he continued into the bathroom and I turned back over in my cocoon of blankets. I worked a nine hour shift on Sunday and was home by 8PM.
The day before I’d worked the evening shift. All of that combined with the care of Zorro plus the track meet had sent to the place where I am tingling all over. It’s the weirdest thing and I can’t describe it. It’s like my body is holding a charge but somehow needs to release it, and does with this shaking and twitching in my shoulders, hips, and legs.
The chiropractor used to try and pull some of it out–the energy. He never made me weird when I told him these things. Zorro is doing better and I don’t mean care of him physically, rather the stress of this giant animal being impaired and the worry. He wants to act like he’s normal but we’re supposed to be discouraging much use of his leg.
So I am glad he’s feeling better. I rested for a couple of hours until it was time to go into Thrive. I have one new client who I’ve been seeing a few weeks. The other person I saw is currently struggling with a cocaine addiction and did not show up today to finish her assessment. I had my doubts when she was jittery and had previously cancelled twice.
I want to just tell him that I’m staying for good. Unless there is some major thing I’m not seeing this feels like the place where I am wanting to learn from. I don’t get the client thing, not after hearing so many stories of all these waiting lists and this supposed mental health crisis. I thought people would be like lining up in droves to be counseled.
Alexis landed a position at a private practice in town. They supposedly have this wait list where she gets to go through it and call people and set up appointments. I told my supervisor about this waitlist and asked him if we could somehow network with them to get them to send clients here. Kyle’s two people stopped coming and he’s 2 hours short.
He said the woman who owns that business used to work here and stole his name. I tell you, you stay at a place long enough and you learn all kinds of crazy things. Nothing happened with the chiropractor, I just outgrew the appointments both in need and in cost. You pay $110 for hopefully ten minutes of his time. It was technically 12 but still.
I want to do bodywork in my office, with a yoga ball in the corner, and a dream catcher dangling from the ceiling. The boys told me on the way to Nebraska I was going too far with the YouTube chakra sound frequencies. When you’re desperate you truly will try anything and I don’t know if I believe them. It’s what I listened to and played for hours.
I was reminded from a post on Instagram that Laura had a bridal shower in Texas. She had her college friends there, plus her grandmother and mother and sister and aunts and local cousins. It was one of those humanizing moments where you see something and somewhere in you’re mind it registers that “Oh my gosh, you’re a real person.”
Like this is actually happening. I admit to being so wrapped up in my own mind at times that I completely forget about things like my future daughter-in-law having a shower. Someone gave her a pillow with her future last name and an s that said “Est. 2025”. In the same picture she wore a baby blue baseball cap that said Mrs. her future last name.
So that was…cute?…I don’t know. Her mom and I are supposed to get together when she gets back and I told her once the semester is over I will have more time. We haven’t finalized rehearsal dinner plans yet but I was thinking we should probably figure that out. I think we’re doing it at camp. The basement too is still waiting for me to change it.
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