Standing before myself, I examined my too-long hair that needs a trim. "I can't even manage to go get my hair cut." I thought.
Then a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach hit me as I thought about a dozen other things I need to manage in an adult-like fashion, but continue to procrastinate over instead. All of this washed over me in the span of a few seconds while Charlie struggled with homework in the living room and I tried to decide whether to wear makeup to my support group meeting tonight.
"I'm such a rotten parent! Why did I take his word for it when Charlie expressed his confidence in acing his latest math test? I know better, or should by now, but I honestly trusted his sheer self-assurance. That left me sitting on my sofa this afternoon staring at a too-low test grade on a test my son was positive he would ace. Onto the English test: Another too-low score. He didn't understand the directions at all. When I read the directions aloud to him he answered every single question correctly.
I find myself frustrated with his school and in the processes we must go through in order to get help for him. It seems like a never-ending trail of checklists and forms to fill out, meeting after meeting, note after note flowing out and back from his teacher and me. Still, no tangible help makes its way to my kid and I sit with these tests on my lap, feeling helpless and inadequate as a mom.
"If I managed my life better, " I thought, "I could home school my boy." Then I remember that clothes still sit in my dryer from Sunday afternoon, unfolded, not put away. I remember the full hamper in my room, I remember that car I need to sell, the bills I can't pay, the calendar for work that I still need to finish for November. None of it sounds all that difficult to accomplish, but I swear sometimes I wish I had a personal assistant to help me manage my life.
On a whim I reorganized my closets last Thursday night. I put all the winter clothes on the right and the summer clothes on the left. This morning, in the nippy autumn air, I flung open the door to my winter clothes and found lots of pants, leggings and boots--only 3 or 4 tops. So I spent the day in a sloppy green shirt and a pair of what I consider "house pants". I made myself go to the Goodwill in search of clothes for the top-half of my body, but only found a few things. In fact, I bought two short sleeved T-Shirts I didn't even need; one because it says "Marvel" on the front and I thought my boy would like it and the other because it said something inspirational, I don't remember now exactly what. This is how I manage my life--in randomness, procrastination and carefully supervised neglect.
Making big decisions is not my strength. I worry too much about making the wrong decision, so often I put off making a decision at all. For instance, I still cannot decide whether to buy this house I'm living in now. I make a list of pros and cons and it always turns out even. I figure maybe it doesn't matter one way or the other, as long as there's a roof over my head, but realistically I know that if my landlord decides to sell and I don't buy, I'll be looking at a move. The concept overwhelms me to the point that I am frozen. I hate to fall back on idiom, but I'm like a deer in headlights lately.
I know what I want. I want to help my child find learning easier and more fun. I want to see him succeed and find confidence in his ability not only to learn but to demonstrate his knowledge in the classroom. I want to be his teacher, his cheerleader, his strength. I fear I merely stand in the way of progress too often. I want to own a home again. Maybe not this home, although I enjoy fixing it up in my mind. Problem is, it's free to fix it up in my mind. In real life, it costs money, and for all I want to do, big money.
I am not a big money kind of gal.
Probably I am not a big money gal because I suck and managing my life. I always knew as a kid that someday I would make my own choices in life; but I never understood how much pressure is involved when you're the boss--or to be more accurate, when you are your own boss.
Sometimes I think "how nice would it be to have a housekeeper, or a laundry lady, or a special tutor to help my kid with homework." Sometimes I wish someone else would make the tough choices for me so I can get off the hook for a change. That's not how it works though.
When I get mad at the manager, she gets an earful. It's usually while I'm standing in the mirror putting makeup on, thinking about all the adult things I need to accomplish. I shame myself for being so lax; I kind of hate myself for not keeping up with all those pieces of paper from Medicare and Baxter and DaVita. I wish I were better at being a "good patient."
As I said before, I went to a support group meeting this evening. I facilitate this group, spent over an hour listening to caregivers talk about the tremendous burden and drain of caring for a loved on with dementia. My heart went out to them as they looked to me for tips and tricks to help manage the behaviors of their loved ones. I relayed what little I know on the subject and then carried on. My heart went out to them but I'm afraid I was not much help.
After the meeting I went to dinner with a good friend. We talked about Charlie's grades and she, being a retired teacher, talked with him a little about how he can approach tests and writing essays a different way. I am grateful for her help. When we got home Charlie finished his essay by bed time and got tucked in just at 9:30. The problem is, the essay was supposed to have been done in class. Instead of doing it, he sat staring into space for 30 minutes.
Life at home with him is not much easier. I repeat myself numerous times per day--not because he doesn't listen, but because he often only catches the tail end of whatever I say. I sometimes grow frustrated with him, then I remember that I'm the one failing here, not him. Am I the one who is clueless about what goes wrong every time he takes a test. I don't think his teacher could possibly see otherwise, but maybe I'm just insane.
It's on days like today when chaos reigns supreme that I really, really want to call the manager up and tell her that she needs to get her crap together--teach her staff some people skills, Problem is when you are the management, there's no one else to call. You just have to suck it up and do your job--like it or not.
So I'm over here, just trying my best to do my job--not checking out on life in general, just putting a whole lot of things off until...who knows when.
Maybe what I really need is a personal manager to keep my life on track. Or maybe I just need to simplify the life I already have.
Hugs. I can relate. Don't be too hard on yourself.
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