I truly intended to update this blog more frequently when I started it.
I also thought that each and every post would be a mini-essay. Thoughtful, well written, representing my best self. Each with a photo I lovingly took myself.
I’m still at my job.
My job that fell from the sky and landed in my lap after I wasn’t sure if we’d ever get out of debt.
We’re debt free now, our savings are plumping up nicely, and we have wiggle room for treats.
But Little Green….
She was suspended from school last week for a day. That came after two other days where Mr. Green had to pick her up at school early for her violent tantrums. She crossed a line and she had to be home for a whole day.
As I type that, I cringe and I get choked up all over again. It’s fucking hard being in this position. Plus, now I’m working. And LG’s school is miles away from home (vs. right next door). And then there’s the “If you were a better mom, you’d fight that suspension. You’d fight all of this. You’d have already hired a lawyer AND an advocate” voice that I always hear in my head.
We met with some staff members the day after the suspension and they were thoughtful and open. I called for an IEP meeting. We all agreed plans need to be in place (and medication needs to be changed – we’d added clonidine into the mix with the ritalin, now we’ve taken it back out) so this never happens again – and one person said “Home is not the least restrictive environment.” And another person had already called the principal from LG’s old school (the Special Education teacher has left, the parapro is also gone) and got input, advice, suggestions. We’ll rebuild. We’ll work on this together. I expressed that I want to be on the same team, not walk in ready for a fight. I know parents who do that. It’s not me. It doesn’t work.
It’s exhausting and sad. I’m always on the verge of…sad.
Work feels like an eternal series of tests I cannot fail and worry I will fail and each one a challenge and each one a threat even though my boss has taken me under her wing, has made herself my mentor, guides me, praises me, tells me how well I’m doing – and she doesn’t say this lightly. There are others in the office who get the opposite treatment. But I’ve never had someone believe in me the way she does. I’ve never had someone care about where I’m going as well as where I am. I’m still a contractor, but I should be a full-time employee by January – with the salary I asked for.
The salary I asked for while my face burned and I stammered and I did my best to not apologize and I just said “This is what I want.” And she is going to give it to me.
Ask for what you’re fucking worth.
I am starting to thaw, to come back to the me at the core – the me who reads books, listens to podcasts and music, thinks about things other than my child, is building a career, is making money, has a path to walk.
Then it all crashes on my head and I can’t breathe and I can’t stop the wet eyes and the trembly voice.
That’s where I am as we crash into November.
I’ll try to update more. I need this outlet.