There have been a lot of "ends" this week. The end of the school year. The end of a graduate class (and with it the end of my graduate schooling). The end of my son's "infant" years. And while I'm sitting here reflecting on what it all means, the only phrase that comes to mind is, "Now what?"
I think of the next 10 weeks and I am virtually stricken with fear. How am I going to keep a 2-year old entertained? How am I going to stay semi-productive? How am I going to keep myself from taking a long walk off a short pier? What the hell am I going to do with all this time?
The writer in me says (as well as my ever-so-patient husband) that this would be a great time to really make some headway in writing the book. All throughout the school year I blamed lesson plans and grading for not having touched a single chapter. Throw on weeks and weeks of grad work and I really had no time for such frivolousness! Can't use those excuses now, can I? I suppose not, but the realist in me knows chances are it won't get touched for another 10 weeks, because LIFE happens.
Beginning next Friday, Lukasz will be home with me for the summer. He just turned 2 last weekend and I know this is such a huge milestone. My little genius (yes, I know "bragging mother" alert!) knows his ABCs and can count to 10. The kid repeats books back to me and sings the words of songs before I can get to them. Every freakin' day he amazes me with something else he's learned. So, how the hell do I keep him entertained/contained/happy all summer? Of course, the list-maker I am already has a spreadsheet of ideas (zoos, parks, yada yada yada), but I clearly cannot do those things every single day. Hubby would kill me (as he watched the bank account drain) and I just don't know how much I could take. But I also can't be Ms. Happy-to-Perfrom indoors 24/7 either. Please, someone, tell me there's a happy balance!
Oh, and not to mention that I have (stupidly) decided to (idiot!) try to potty-train (delusional!) Lukasz this summer (what is wrong with me??). Yeah, I have no clue how to do it, but my dumb-ass is going to "attempt" it (saying attempt will make me feel better about my impending failure).
Then I think about the last 2 years that I have worked and struggled and cried to finish grad school. My last class ended today and it was surprisingly bittersweet. While I am completely and utterly relieved to have finished (24 credits in 2 years - beginning when Lukasz was 2 months old!), I have always described myself as the eternal student. I have always enjoyed school and learning in general; I just love knowing things. So now that I'm done, where do I go from here? While I would love to get my PhD, my inner sensible side (she's in there, pretty deep in there, but she's there) knows that it'd be virtually impossible to juggle 1) work, 2) a toddler, 3) doctorate level studies and 4) possible baby #2 down the road. It'd be a death wish to put myself through that. Or I could just go back and get the Administration & Supervision certification - it's not a degree, but at least I could make myself eligible to be a supervisor someday. It's only 4 classes, how bad could it be? These are things I don't bring up to dear hubby...the daggers from his eyes are just too painful.
And so while I reflect on all these ends, my anxiety grows. Sometimes endless possibilities are truly gifts, but right now, not so much.
