Rock vs Hard Place

The semester started back up today which marks exactly a year since I started my grad school work, and to be honest, I just realized that as I was typing this sentence.
It doesn't feel like a year.  I feels like three.
I started the semester off right by turning off my cell phone on the way home from class.  My class ends just as rush hour begins so I'll always have a solid 1.5 hours to contemplate life on the way home.
Contemplating life is hard work kids.

One year ago, I felt like I had life pretty much figured out.  I had just quit my job. I was going to the school I wanted to go to.  I was so much happier. And since I was so much happier, I think my family was too.

But today as I drove home, I wanted to cry. I wanted someone to curl up with that would UNDERSTAND.

I had gone over to school early in the hopes of catching three different professors, so I could have various and sundry chats with them.  One of them I just had a simple question for.  He wasn't in the office, he was in a meeting.  I had lots of personal questions for another one of them.  She was eating a late lunch with another professor in her office.  The third I was going to crawl into his office with my tail between my legs and explain WHY I was taking a course outside my degree plan and hope that he didn't blackball me for the rest of my life.  I'm not sure he was here today.

I know that part of today's emotional stress was needing to have conversations with lots of people and not getting to talk to any of them, and so the conversations continue to swirl around in my head until I have class again, and I can try to catch them again.

But it's not just the conversations that are swirling around.  I have decisions to make based off of those conversations. And oh my heavens, the decisions, they are killing me.  Some of the decisions are simple and some of them are life altering (in my current perspective).

I have this feeling that I won't be able to have a simple conversation with any of these professors, because I just want to know what they think, I want them to tell me all about their own experiences and direct me to the right path.  I want to know that getting a PhD won't kill my family or that adding to the family won't kill my career.  I want to know that other people have done what I'm doing. And I really want to know what I made on my Shakespeare paper.

But driving home today I felt like no matter who I talked to I was going to get an answer I didn't want and then I was going to have to make either a smart/safe decision or a gutsy/stupid decision.  But I feel that whether the decisions I make are gutsy or safe, they are still going to be wrong.

And I hate being wrong.

Six Years

We have a birthday girl in our house who loves dolls and pancakes and snuggling.  She looks taller.  She smiles a snaggle-tooth smile for the first time.  She can look me square in the eye and say "No" to my requests with such purpose that I fear for her older years. And mine.  She laughs more heartily.  Her favorite thing is Mommy-Daddy-JuJu dance parties.  When no one else is looking she can read and read and read.  She worries with a ferocity that worries her mother. She loves us so sweetly.  She is six years old.  We are so very proud of her.

Ending 2011 with A Conversation

JuJu is fascinated by the fact that people all over the world are celebrating the coming of 2012.  We did have to explain to her that people do not travel to Russia (or anywhere else) from the United States simply to celebrate the new year, but that people already LIVE in Russia, and THEY celebrate the new year, along with the rest of the world. They are called Russians. Blew her mind.
(In case you're wondering "why Russia?" well, she saw a picture of people celebrating near St. Basil's Cathedral, and she knows what the cathedral looks like...and well, there you are. Thank you Little Einsteins.)

I decided to start my new year off right (sarcastic) or end the old year poorly (not sarcastic) by inadvertently informing the lil' bit that she has a heart defect.   I'm not sure how I got to that point.  I know exactly how I got to that point.  She pushed me into it.  She knew she had a doctor's appointment coming up, and well, here's the run down:

JuJu: I don't want to go! I'm scared.
Me: Why are you scared?
J: I don't want a shot!
M: Well, you are in luck, because this doctor doesn't give shots
J: Why not? What is she for?
M: What is she for? Um. She's a heart doctor. She takes care of hearts, that's what she is for.
J: IS MY HEART SICK?! (gasp)
M: No. Not really.  It's just....um....she just wants to look at it!
J: Why?
M: Because it's a very special heart
J: Because there is something wrong?
M: (uuuugh) She just wants to look at it because it has a tiny little booboo. And she wants to make it better.
J: IT IS SICK!
M: NO. It's not sick.  It has a booboo.
J: Who gave me the booboo?
M: You've always had it, ever since you were born.
J: Ever since I came from heaven?! GOD GAVE ME THE BOOBOO??
M, aside: Oh. Dear. Lord.
M: JuJu, God makes every one special.  Your heart is special because it's not made like everyone else's heart.  But it works fine, right?! Didn't you go on a super long bike ride today? And you said you weren't even tired. That means you're heart is working really well!
J: GOD GAVE ME A BOOBOO!
M (defeated): Sweetpea, everyone has something about them, something that they may not like, but you have a choice to make. God didn't give you a booboo because he is unhappy with you. You have a booboo because God thought that out of all the people in this world, you were the right person for that heart. He knew your body would be strong enough to deal with it and that you are smart enough to take care of it. But you have to choose to be the person God wanted you to be when he chose that heart for you. You can choose to let it bother you every day or you can choose to simply do the things you love to do, like bike riding and playing chase, and not worry about it.

J (with a logical astuteness that was shocking): I don't want to be that person. I don't want this heart and I don't want to be that person.
M: sigh. let's go snuggle. I'll sing you to sleep, is that okay?
J: yes that's okay. But I'm still scared. And I still don't want this heart.
M: I know punkin. I know.

We did snuggle. And I did sing. She finally fell into a deep sleep to Be Thou My Vision. I know she is scared, but the thing that I can't tell her is that I am too. I'm scared she won't ever want to be that person. What if she never makes the decision to face her heart problem confidently, what then?

A DIY which was a Bad Idea

A couple of days before Christmas (literally, the day I handed in my last paper for the semester, so the 21st) the gumption insisted that I make her Christmas dress.
I laughed.
She did not.
I stared down my nose at her and said "JuJu! Do you know how much work it is to make a dress?"
She said, "Mommy, you must make my Christmas dress."
I fell into a little heap and said "okay"

Now, making JuJu's Christmas dress is on my "life list" but if I'm really honest with myself, I never thought it would happen, and I was okay with that.

But, like the obedient mother that I am, I went and bought the fabric and trim and a pattern (a real pattern! I don't even know how to READ a pattern! I had to call my mom.)

I sewed and sewed and sewed, seriously, up until about thirty minutes before the Christmas Eve service started.  It was supposed to have poofy three-quarter length sleeves, because I'm an avid believer that dresses that are to be worn in the winter should have sleeves.  I made the sleeves.  And then I tried to attach them to the bodice and well, then I had to go find my scrap fabric and cut more bodice pieces and start all over.  So! No sleeves! Instead, a cute cardigan which covers up 85% of the sewing that I had to do. Go figure.

I know it looks simple enough, but good heavens!
I actually had to READ THE DIRECTIONS.

Now that I've sewn a dress for my daughter, I can proudly cross it off my life list.  And then proudly tell you I will never do that again.

But at least she is happy as a lark.

The Perfect Christmas Song

Christmas is almost here kids. I know this song has been out for awhile but I thought I'd share it anyway. Its one of those songs that when my heart aches for someone else, it reminds me that something bigger is happening no matter what happens to us here on earth.  Listen all the way through.  I've been crying to it all night long.  You shouldn't cry. You should rejoice.  I should rejoice too.

Peace Right Here

Tomorrow is the last day of the semester, and while I still technically have projects that are unfinished, they aren't due until a little bit later.
Since I've been looking forward to the 16th, as the last day of school, for several weeks now, I'm going to go ahead and celebrate.  In the last week and a half I've written three major papers, taken three finals, and given one presentation.
My books are already starting to arrive for the spring semester.  It makes me a little bit nauseous just to think about them.
Not like I'm big on lying anyway, but, I'm not gonna lie, you guys....this semester was hard. Seriously hard.
Aside from the Latin class, the material wasn't any harder than my first semester.  In some ways, it was easier.
The difference? Oh man. JuJu's half day kindergarten very nearly killed us both.  At the beginning of the semester I thought it was going to kill us because neither one of us could get our rhythm.  As the semester wore on I started to get a little panicky about not finding a rhythm.  And by panicky I mean having to double my "let's not freak out today" meds.  That kind of panicky. It wasn't until the end of the semester that I realized that not finding a rhythm meant more than just wonky days and messed up schedules: not having a rhythm takes an emotional toll on you.
I've had to step back from the edge of "perhaps grad school isn't the right thing" more than once.  And more times than I care to count I've had to talk JuJu down from another meltdown over "Mommy has to leave for school"
It wouldn't take much more, I don't think, for me to want to do nothing but curl up in a ball in the corner and ask that everyone go away.  But as it is, tomorrow is December 16th and my head is full of things I want to do and make with my family.  I promised JuJu I would take her ice-skating.
And man oh man, I can hardly wait.

Happiness

Finals start on Saturday.  I have papers and presentations scheduled for every day this week.  

I'll let you know how I fair.  I'll be back eventually.  In the meantime, watch this.  It will make you happy.

(thanks Mighty Girl!)