My husband was laid off about a month ago. This has sent me into a serious, very long lasting, anxiety attack. We've been here before. I don't like it.
I could probably say a lot about it. A lot of bad, scary stuff.
I think today I will say a quick little bright side about his layoff.
One of the bright sides is that he is now in charge of fourth grade math homework.
This might be worth having him unemployed.
Not really, but it is a wonderful thing.
I was not meant to help children with math homework. Math is not D11's best subject (that's putting it mildly). It has not been helped with my assistance during homework. I have a hard time pushing him to be neat and to concentrate and to think. Instead I get really impatient and annoyed (as I write this they are having a lovely discussion about neat handwriting and I am, oh thank any higher power out there, not the one having that conversation).
I have tried. I really have. I either lose my patience (OK, temper, fine, we'll call it temper) or just blow it off and let him get away with crappy work.
I don't like this about myself. I do make an effort, I have tried to change. I do manage the rest of homework and D11 and I do just fine. But math had truly become unbearable.
So today I am grateful I am not managing math homework anymore. That's how I'm handling this layoff. Trying not to worry about the future and trying to find some things to appreciate and be grateful for.
Monday, April 15, 2013
I really want to start blogging/writing again. I've just had such a hard time jumping back in. So I'm just starting with nothing this morning. I'm just posting to post. I've been struggling with what I can talk about or should talk about. What should be public and what should be private. Do I sound whiny? Or do I have legitimate complaints? Why am I still talking/complaining about the same things I did a year ago or two years ago or five years ago?
Am I ever going to change?
Do I need to change as much as I think I do?
Pretty sure it's more.
Am I ready to be myself on-line and not worry about what certain population segments of my life think? Why do I care what other people think? How does that happen? Is that genetic? Is that environmental? Why did my birth mother give me up for adoption? Honestly, what is up with that?
I still think that is a valid question 46 years after my birth. I honestly do.
So that's it. I'm going to stop worrying so much about what I say or how I say it or who sees it. It's time.
The question is, what is it time for?