Tis the Season

There is something about this time of year that has always excited me.  Not just the fact that it's the end of the school year.  Something bigger than that.  For me, this graduation season has always held a spark of promise, the possibility that RIGHT NOW you can be anything you want to be. As someone who knew without a doubt that I'd be going to college right after high school, thinking about the summer after graduation was a hobby of mine.  I dreamed about the shopping trips I'd take with a parent, the bedding I'd pick out for my dorm room, the road trip I'd take to meet my new roommate before school began, the memories I'd talk about with my mom while she helped me pack, and the final hang outs I'd plan with my friends before leaving. 

None of that happend for me.  None of that went as planned.

Yes, my life has turned out better than I could have possibly hoped.  Yes, yes, YES.  But there's still a part of me that grieves that experience I longed for and never got.  This is the time of year that I think about what could have been, and even all these years later, it still makes me sad.  Because I'm a planner, June represented the possibilities of the future, because by the time August came, everything would be set.  That's why it's now and not fall that triggers this for me. 

I was going to go to GVSU to become a physician's assistant.  Nobody talked to me about my interests, my career goals, my future possibilities.  I looked over the list of majors and picked something that I thought sounded impressive.  (Here's how little I knew about it -- I didn't realize it was a 6 year program until weeks into my first semester.)  I didn't have adults talking to me about my future, and I definitely made my own conclusions as to why.  Nobody took me shopping to buy fun stuff for my college dorm.  Nobody helped me pack for college.  Nobody talked about childhood memories and how much they were going to miss me.  I talked to my future roommate on the phone once, but she lived in Chicago and I had no money, so a roadtrip was out of the question.  I became depressed and withdrawn; I worked a ton trying to save money for college, and by the end of the summer I didn't have any plans with friends before leaving.  Nothing went as I had hoped it would. 

The ironic thing is that as this is all unfolding, I'm recognizing that it's not going as planned, and I almost tried to give myself a second chance at making it happen.  That summer I worked with a girl who was a few years older than me.  She had started working fulltime right after high school to save money to pay for college.  So even though she wasn't fresh out of high school, she was getting ready for her first "going away to colllege" experience.  By about July of that summer, when I'm seeing how much my parents are failing to do anything on my dream list, I started thinking that I 'd just delay college.  I would just do what she did, work for a few years, and try again later.  Not because I needed the money, but because I wanted to give my parents a second chance to not suck.  Even with my limited wisdom, I knew that delaying the process was not going to help anything, so I didn't go that route.

The whole situation had me set up to fail from the very beginning, so it's no wonder I only stayed at GVSU one semester.  My dad and sister dropped me off at college.  I wasn't close to either of them so it really wasn't anything special.  There weren't any encouraging words or happy memories exchanged.  At the time there wasn't any sort of system for incoming freshman to make sure they didn't't get lost in the shuffle, so that I did.  I cried most of the day for the first week or two.  Not because I was homesick.  It was more for the fact that I felt like I didn't have a home anymore.  I didn't have either of my parents talking excitedly about me coming home for Thanksgiving.  I didn't know if either of them would even come get me for the holiday.  And I sure didn't feel like I fit in there.  It was a mess.  I was a mess.  It certainly wasn't anything like what I had hoped and dreamed it would be.

Sixteen years later, this is still the season that represents so much possibility.  In this healing phase that I'm in, I'm looking for ways to use that excitement and possibilities within the context of where I am now.  For me, that doesn't come without first grieving the loss of a dream.

On The Go

I am craving some downtime!  My days off are filled with kids kids kids and more kids.  I love my boys and I want to do things with them.  I want them to have a fun summer.  But I just want to veg out and read and relax for a day!

I'm always so torn when it comes to my time with my boys.  I have this fear that I'm not doing enough with them, or for them.  I want them to have good memories of our time together.  I want them to remember that I loved being with them.  I don't want them to look back and think I was unhappy or that I didn't want to be around them.  But I can't give and give and give until I have nothing left either.  I've got to try to find the balance.  I worry about not doing enough because I felt unloved as a kid.  My parents were not nurturing or affectionate.  They were busy and I felt like I was in the way.  They did not do things with me.  I cannot remember one time of actually playing WITH one of my parents.  But if you ask them, I'm sure they'd say that they love/d me very much and I have no reason to have these issues from growing up unloved.  And when I can't quite put my finger on what the problem was, I don't know how to fix it.  I play catch with Big C everyday.  But how long is enough?  He's upset if I say I'm done after 5 minutes and he's upset if I say I'm done after 45 minutes. I'm afraid all he will remember is wanting to play longer and me telling him "no." I want to do my best with my boys.  But I want to take care of myself too, which I've never done.  I'm trying to make time to do the things I like to do, but it's difficult.  My time is split between my 3 boys, taking care of things around the house, and investing time in my marriage.  I'm so glad my baby is such a good baby. I'm afraid if he weren't that I would wish we had just stuck with 2.  Three kids is a lot!  Parenting is hard work.