It’s been in the back of my mind, and sometimes overshadows everything else. What do I do? All the work and stress that comes along with trying to please two bosses and two kids has been overwhelming me, but try as I might I couldn’t figure out what to do. I even heeded my own advice and wrote out a Pros and Cons list. But everything was coming up pretty equal. Working for the school I have health insurance and more money for fun this summer. Working for only the PR company gives me more time to be with my kids and less stress.
I felt like the responsible, grown-up, won’t-be-judged-harshly thing to do was work my arse off and let the cards fall where they may. I just wasn’t convinced that it’s what I should do.
That’s when fate stepped in.
Today at work, I found out they were calling each para-educator in, asking if they might be willing to leave our school. The option existed to be transferred to a life skills classroom in a local high school. Of the four of us, two have been there since forever, two of us are newer. One was willing to toy with the idea of moving, but instead I took the leap and volunteered to be the one to go. Not to transfer to another school, but to resign.
So that’s what happened. In a fit of tears in the principal’s office, I raised my hand and said, “I’ll go.” The other three have been there all school year, the kids love them. I have a part-time job to coast us through for a while. My daughter will be happy to not see me in the halls. We won’t argue about how embarrassing it is to have your mom work at your school. I won’t stress about having to wake at 4.30 to get work done before going to work.
I might even start writing again. And running. And my heart will stop skipping beats to make up for the stress. I can stop drinking so much caffeine.
I’ll make it a good thing, but I think tonight, I’ll cry a little––sad to not see the lovely little faces of these kids from kindergarten through high school, the ones who greet me with hugs or high-fives, the teachers who so desperately need more help in the classroom. Tonight I’ll be sad. Maybe tomorrow, too.
Monday, though… Monday will be a new start, again.