Lately advice has been coming from two different types of people. Those that have kids. And those who don’t. The ones who do are sympathetic to my heavy workload. Most of them can’t believe I’m determined to go back to school. They often offer to help where they can and tease me over my lack of sleep and my lofty goals. Those who don’t have kids are perplexed that I’m not buckling down to study and write, that I can’t get my other friends (mostly other moms) out for dinner, that I don’t have enough time to get things done. They don’t know that every year I write down goals and try to accomplish them.
Every year I set goals. I set them here. It’s a safe place for me to put them down, and it’s easy to find last year’s and think “Hmmmm.” I look back at the year and see what was good and what was bad.
Since I’m a pessimist, I’ll start with the bad. The marriage is over. It has been over for a long time. It was over last year at this time, but I wasn’t willing to admit it. They cut a piece of me out, and I got to look like the undead for a week. My battle plan has not stayed on schedule. I have recently learned that I haven’t set good boundaries and stuck by them when it comes to their father. I still tangle myself trying to make him a better father. I may always be the main parent, no matter what he thinks or says. I need to learn to work with that. I didn’t work on my writing as I promised myself to do.
I still did work on my writing and sent in articles. I have pushed, pulled, begged, and nagged my friends into going out with me more. I took a few weekends off. I have this pretty awesome rental, and I am more organized than I have ever been. We’re starting to do more crafts because of Boy Scouts and that I’ve stopped being a snob about packaged craft projects. My mom is cancer-free, even if she’s off her meds. I now visualize how I would talk to my inner circle when I talk to the boys’ father or my mother, when I’m pissed off. Apparently hurts heal, and broken hearts mend. I guess I shouldn’t have secretly sworn off manhandling. That didn’t work. But that turned out to be a good thing. I may not be perfectly balanced, but I’m getting there.
This year’s goals
- I will go back to school.
- I will carve out time to write.
- I will stick to the battle plan. Get mentally healthy. Get the information I need for the future. Get prepared for a career.
- I will find a better balanced between family, life, friends, and me.
Oh and what’s more. I’ve got a plan.
As soon as their father is back in town doing his visitation thing (sounds bad; it’s not; he just doesn’t live in a child-safe environment.), I will lock myself in my bedroom and study. Every Saturday I will take a couple of hours to lock myself away and work on my writing.
I also have realized I will need to hire a babysitter when I do enroll in classes.
I will continue to see the therapist. Though next time I go, I’m handing her a bunch of reports on how I spend my day. I don’t get the things like studying, writing, and finding a new hobby done because I have stuff to do and being a full-time parent without help means everything takes longer and I do everything.
I will become more efficient with my time so I can read my favorite blogs and add more.
This month I want to arm myself with information on divorce as well as seeing if I qualify for grants.
I have already set a date for a mom’s night out. For the next year. The third Thursday of every month. I’ll go out by myself if I have to.
Sundays are going to be baking AND craft day.
I’m going to restart movie night with my brother.
And I’m going to go on more trips by myself.
Maybe it’s ambitious, but I want to get all the ducks in a row to start school in the next couple of months.
So there. The highlights and beginnings of a plan of attack. I should write this down for the therapist. And probably on a calender so I can see it. And maybe hang it on the wall. I should probably come up with a better, snappier way to phrase it all.