No Barren Advice today. Perhaps, instead, you have advice for me.
I am admitting all of this here for two reasons even though this embarrasses me tremendously. (1) It could help someone else who is going through the same thing and (2) I want to reflect one day how far I've come because I do have a lot of hope that things will change.
I have been conducting my life out of the preschool library. By this point, I consider the end seat at the table my own and if need be, I would pee on it like a squirrel monkey to mark my territory. I spent the morning writing notes to my niece and friends on my new pink stationary. I read a book. Made some phone calls. And told myself that tomorrow would be the day I'd leave the building. And then I promptly felt ill and decided I would wait until the morning to make a concrete decisions.
I have not actually left the twins at preschool yet.
The first day of school, I was the only parent crying. The children were not crying, their parents were not crying. But I was sobbing--and not just for the initial drop off. I sat in the library by myself and cried long after every other parent had left the building.
The next day, I was again the only parent crying. And while people were sympathetic on the first day, they seemed a tad confused by the second day. This week, I have not admitted to anyone that I'm remaining in the building. I drop off the kids and walk down the hallway as if I am going to use the main door to the school. And then I veer down another hallway and go to my library space in a lesser traveled part of the building. I come back out close to pick up time and pretend that I just arrived from errands. No one asks me what I did and I don't admit that I have been standing on a chair in the library, trying to see the playground from my perch.
I am embarrassed that I can't bring myself to leave the building. This is really not how I want to conduct my life. I have a ton of things I'd like to get done--both workwise and homewise. I would love to be going forward with new projects and instead, I am frozen. I am completely frozen. I can't bring myself to leave the building. And it's not that I don't trust the school or their teachers. I love the school and their teachers are fantastic. I can't really put into words what it is. Maybe that if I walk out the door, it will be an admittance that my children are now four years old and moving away from me. Growing apart from me.
And even if I get to have a third child, this will all happen again. I will not be able to keep them at home with me forever.
This is a problem that can't really be solved.
I thought I'd write out this long entry and come to this perfect peace that would enable me to walk out the door tomorrow. But I have erased the end of this post numerous times because I don't really think I can say what I want to say. Meaning, I can't find the words. I can't tell if I'm grateful for the fact that I don't have deadlines this week. On one hand, it enables me to sit there. On the other hand, there is no impetus to work through this beyond my own shame.
I wrote out small goals for myself--Stop crying. Move outside to the car. Walk over to the post office. Drive over to McDonald's for an iced coffee. Go in the house to get something and come back immediately to the school. Go home and stay there, writing out the LFCA. Go home and begin work on something creative again.
I have not accomplished much.
It all boils down to time. As a child, I would horde candy and never eat it because if I ate it, I didn't have it to look forward to anymore. The sad part, of course, is that we ended up tossing a lot of candy I could have enjoyed. As a college student, I would start mourning the end of the trip on the first day. I was so sad to have vacations start because it would mean that I was closer to the end. And now, I am just so incredibly sad with this idea of people aging--of myself aging and Josh aging and the twins aging. Having them moving apart from me is just a reminder of the passing of time.
This post probably doesn't fill you with confidence to submit a question to me for next week's Barren Advice. But know that I have a lot of time on my hands, a quiet library, and a good deal of neuroses of my own.
A gift for the comment (well, to the commentor) that triggers my ability to at least run local errands. Send your best advice and I will let you know the first one that works.