First Day Back

I’m back, and it’s like I never left. Now that I’m not teaching high school (more on that in a bit) I can be my online-self again.

My kids started school this week, and it couldn’t come fast enough. It’ll be nice to be back on a schedule, so I don’t draw a blank when their dad asks, “When was the last time they took a bath?”

I thought swimming counts as one.

In a couple weeks, we’ll find ourselves in those uncomfortable parent-teacher conferences, and after the deconditioning over this unstructured summer, I’m already anxious. I admit, parent-teacher conferences have improved each year. My daughter’s about to turn eight, and she still might be working some of that delivery Pitocin out of her system. It pains me that her teachers don’t use my preferred label, Indigo Child. When I walk into these meetings, I’m prepared for the teacher to change into her doctor costume, and it’s not the slutty kind, but the serious kind. Then listen to her diagnose my kid with a slew of mental afflictions.

Last year’s wasn’t bad. In fact, it was the best one yet. My daughter’s teacher started with, “Were all different, and that’s ok!”

After the teacher opened up the floor, my ex, told us at length how his parents say he was just like our daughter as a kid; a clumsy little girl with her head in the clouds. When he wrapped that up, they both looked at me for insight, how my parents perceived me as a kid. I’m the middle child of 5 kids, all born within 6 years. My parents didn’t know shit about me till I was 25.

My ex and I Co-parent, which basically means we can’t let our kids feel any added stress from living in two households because when they get more stress, it makes us ALL look bad. Like by getting so angry their eraser ripped through their paper, they throw their kindergarten chair. That is not a fun parent-teacher conference either, but at least I can add insight. “My children get their emotional range from me, and that’s why I can’t drink hard alcohol.”

After hearing that, the teacher pulls out her medical chart and makes a notation, and she wasn't even in costume.

I’m back to primarily teaching college students because the Mercury Retrograde in July took me on a wild ride! I was offered a job, quit a job, and then unoffered the job I quit the job for. Sounds confusing, but it turned out to unfold into exactly what I needed.

In the beginning of July I received a message on LinkedIn about a position. I applied and had an interview soon after, that was followed up by a second interview. It moved quickly, and I felt good about it, so I wasn’t surprised when they emailed, offering me a position. I immediately told the high school I was teaching at that I would not be returning for the upcoming school year. I jumped the gun, but felt it was necessary because they needed time to find a replacement.

            I replied to the job offer, stating my excitement, and also inquiring about a slight increase in the pay they offered. Two days of radio silence. During this time in limbo, my mom calls me every couple hours to see if they’ve written back, adding to the stress, but it was like she knew this shit wasn’t happening. She might be on the spectrum too, but the psychic spectrum.

And those feelings were confirmed after receiving an email that started with, we’ve decided to go in a different direction. I nearly choked on my tongue and felt dreadfully unemployed for a quick minute. It dawned on me, the last year I had insurance and I failed to get new glasses, go to the dentist and have another baby. For the first time, all those things seemed really important.

A friend was over when I read the email, and it was hard to digest all this change with a witness. My initial reaction would be to go take a nap for three days, but I managed to keep all my thoughts in a positive direction. With a nudge to be proactive, I wrote my other boss, asking for available classes at the college. Seven am the next morning, he emailed, and sure enough gave me more classes, so I’m totally sitting pretty, and after that roller coaster ride, I understand why all this happened.

            There are couple reasons I needed to leave my job. The first, a classic case of inner-office romance gone thumbs-down. The second, I let my gutter mind vent on stage too often to not get caught, and I’d hate for my foul mouth to cause an unnecessary drama, where I’m left feeling like I’m a bad person. The shame game can be strong amongst some groups, and they don’t give a shit about all of Brené Brown’s research. 

            I’m grateful for the flexibility of being an adjunct, now I get to volunteer at my kids’ school. Their dad sent me the drop off picture from the first day. The temperature was predicted to be 107 degrees, and my daughter was wearing a long sleeve shirt. When I picked them up at the end of the day, my daughter let me know she had fun, and then asks, “Why’d you pack me a freaking long-sleeve shirt?”

            I looked around, to assess the scene. I think only one person heard. I whispered, “You can’t say freaking!”

            Obviously, she has been hanging out with my mother.

            Then she said, “You need to sign the permission slip for me to see Miss Tracy.”

            Miss Tracy is the school counselor, and my daughter would prefer to spend her entire school day sitting cross-legged on Miss Tracy’s couch, drinking lemonade, and gossiping about everyone in her life. This completely innate behavior can’t be blamed on my mother, her father, or too much delivery Pitocin. She probably just likes the audience, getting all the trash out of her head, and I’m glad she has a safe space to be herself. I get it.

Note: I plan on publishing old posts, but as I go through them I actually seize from embarrassment. It’s mostly the post-divorce stuff. As I read some of it, I feel like maybe I should have seen a therapist instead of my keyboard after eight cups of coffee. I like the stories about raising my babes. It used to piss me off when my brother called my blog a mom-blog, but fuck it, it’s a mom-blog, and I’m happy to be back!