Lorelle issued a Blog Challenge: Blog About Being Big – aka Successful. Specifically, to write about a moment when I felt “big”, or to write “what it would look like if I were big”.
When I first read her post yesterday, I was all prepared to pick and choose between conquering anxiety attacks, restarting college as an adult, being a single mom to three, writing this blog, being promoted at work, losing weight, and teaching computer skills classes. Dating again (though I daresay that hasn’t been as successful as I’d like). All perfectly good examples of “when I felt big”.
Then I went to look at apartments with The Teen ™ and got the great joy of hearing about how I need a new vehicle (I really do), she needs new clothes (what teen doesn’t?), and I need to find her a job so she can start saving up for her own car (she can find her own damn job). And how she’s going to live her life differently so she doesn’t have to live the way I do. In my daughter’s eyes, I’m a hard-done-by loser. (She wouldn’t necessarily use the word “loser” though).
After that wonderfully uplifting discussion, I got to come home and listen to My Sainted Mother. Why in the WORLD would I want to live in an apartment when I can live in her Doublewide Paradise.
(Yes, I’m serious.)
And then I felt really really small and alone. And the see-saw started. Quitting school would meet my daughter’s immediate need for a vehicle “she can be seen in” and a house “she can invite people to”. Oh, and we can’t forget “shopping at the Mall!” Quitting school is not an option; I categorically refuse to be a retail and/or pink-collar zombie again. I don’t want to live with my parents anymore, but if I moved out I would have to add regular, frequent visits to check up on them. How would we handle scheduling? We, hell. How am *I* supposed to fit all that in?
And yet, right now, I feel more BIG than I ever have before. School is challenging and wonderful, work is routine but enjoyable. The Folks ™ and I have established a mostly-functional relationship. My children are happy and healthy (shallow teen-living aside). Writing is only more difficult because I’m waiting for that whole “time to write” thing to resolve itself.
What would it look like if I were BIG? Exactly the same as it does now, only with a partner and a house with in-law quarters 1/2 acre away. Oh, and I’d be an at-home mom again.
