I almost feel like an apology is owed here. 6 weeks of silence. Shameful and scandalous. You cannot imagine how many posts I’ve written in my absence. Pithy, poignant, witty…man. You should have seen the blogs that got away. But really, let’s go ahead and blame that largely on my new life. I’m a call it Life as MamaMrsMastersMiss. You see I’m a wife and mom, and that’s one (two?) of my favouritest things bout me, the Mama and the Mrs bits. And I’m teacher, the “Miss” bit. As in, “Hi, Miss, do we really have to do work today?” “Miss, when you say do it on folder leaf, do you mean we should WRITE it on folder leaf?” and “Miiiiissssss, she’s bullying me just because I slapped her first.” And now I’m doing my masters. It’s in Translation, but where as most translation courses focus on one foreign language, I in my infinite insanity am totes doing BOTH Spanish and French. Because why should I ever do things the easy way? Ask me 6 years ago, I would have said creating back to back major campaigns was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. 4 years ago, giving birth. 1 year ago, exclusively breastfeeding the world’s hungriest baby. Today I can quite confidently swear unto thee, that THIS is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Every second of every day, I’m trying to accomplish ten million things, each JUST AS important as the other. Unless they’re MORE important. I’m marking papers, planning lessons, creating videos and slide shows and following up with sick students, absent students, that one girl who needs a detention and the other one who needs a hug. I’m texting my husband, and sending him funny tidbits from the day and trying to read at least the headlines of the links he sends me, staying in touch with what’s on his mind. I’m cooking, prepping lunchboxes, kissing boo-boos that were BEGGING to happen (#DearJude, you cannot fly. Please stop jumping off the stairs) and singing goodnight songs slightly ahead of bedtime. Because every day just before bedtime (which was almost a deal breaker for this sad mommy) I’m running right back out the door for 2-3 hours of mind-jacking translation-learning. Then I come home to do my own homework, prep for my next day’ lessons and figure out how much marking I have managed to NOT do. Again. As the pile gets higher and higher. And higher. And higher. And that’s every day. Every. DAY. Thank GOD for a husband who is every bit as capable of and committed to bedtime stories and baths and boo boo kissing. Without that kind of solid support behind me, this would have fallen apart before Orientation day.
All this madness is happening while I also continue to wrestle with being sick, and coping with the fatigue and faintness and straight up blech-ity that it brings. You know, along with the usual bewilderment and concern. I sometimes want to cry. So I sometimes do. And then I let it go. Because underneath it all, the bone crushing exhaustion that would no longer know what to do with more than 4 hours sleep, the incoherence and tendency to nap standing up, I kinda…like it. I might maybe even love it. But will I survive it? Grab yourselves a couch and a cookie, folks, because we’re going to find out. Courage for everyone. (But tonight I’m going to go on ahead and take more than my share.) Mmmm, yes. It feels good to be back dear interwebs. Let’s see how long this sweet, sweet reunion runs. Night-night, friends!