Sustainably Single Parenting

Making the most of life's journey alongside my three!!!

Back to Basically Alright March 25, 2013

Nohra is over 11lbs at four weeks old! That's a gain of 4lbs+ since birth :)

Nohra is over 11lbs at four weeks old! That’s a gain of 4lbs+ since birth 🙂

Today is my first day of feeling good again.

I was able to use various natural remedies (warm, moist heat and massaging, increasing my Vitamin C and taking Echinacea, increasing my fluid intake and resting) to beat mastitis without antibiotics. Yay! It also helped that Nohra is going through a growth spurt and was begging to nurse almost constantly these past few days.

I was in so much pain at times, but several things helped me to push through. One was knowing that I couldn’t afford to get any worse as there wasn’t anyone to care for my daughters. Another was that if I had to take antibiotics and transfer them to Nohra by nursing her I’d feel incredibly guilty. Another was that no one was here to comfort me regardless of how much I complained so it was better to stay tough (very similar to birthing). I’m happy to have won this battle. Thank you all so much for your kindness and advice!

Terra and Amara modeling their new sunglasses and outfits courtesy of my sister :)

Terra and Amara modeling their new sunglasses and outfits courtesy of my sister 🙂

Today was spent cleaning, trying to get back on track from several days of letting the girls go off their schedule and wreck the condo. It was bad. It still isn’t perfect, but today alone I got everyone bathed, the gerbil cage cleaned, the cloth diapers and the dishes washed, the bathroom cleaned, a load of laundry folded and put away, and a draft of my Master’s Project Prospectus completed.

The plan was to stop and celebrate every small victory along the way. Every cleaned body, room, dish, diaper and whatnot. But I was too busy scurrying to clean as quickly as I could each time I was able to put Nohra down to stop and enjoy each accomplishment. I can certainly say that being a single mother of three young children has made me much more efficient. I have no time to do anything slowly anymore.

There’s still a lot of cleaning to be done. My summer semester proposals need to be finished this week, there are bills to pay and appointments to make it to and Terra’s fourth birthday on Saturday. I cannot wrap my head around it all. When I dreamed of my adult life I never saw it being like this. I thought that I’d have babies, yes, but everything else was inconceivable. I do enjoy having children, I’m just eager to reach the period of our lives when I can share so much more with them.

There’s still so much I want out of life, but days like today I am certain that we’re going to be alright.

 

Nobody Said This Was Going To Be Easy March 15, 2013

I am incredibly overwhelmed.

I put off my coursework to care for my kids.

I do my housework since I’m not doing coursework.

I put off my housework to do my coursework.

While doing my coursework my kids wreck the house.

The baby will not let me put her down.

I am constantly nursing, changing diapers, leaking milk, burping, soothing, being spit up on, peed on, pooped on.

I am constantly serving meals, washing dishes, pre-washing cloth diapers, grooming my children, educating my children, feeling guilty that I cannot find the time for educating myself, running errands, running myself into the ground.

I want to cry like my baby. Her cry is so committed, wholeheartedly unabashed.

I want someone to hold me, to rock me, to love me, to shhhhhhhh in my ear while I cry.

I want so badly for things to be alright.

 

 

I Just Forgot March 8, 2013

My little rebel - 2wks old

My little rebel – 2wks old

I forgot about the growth spurt that occurs between the first and third weeks after birth. The typically complacent baby now constantly fussy, red as a grape tomato, and clawing at my breast with small, jagged, never-before-clipped fingernails, suckling night and day to make my breasts produce enough milk to meet her daily intake needs.

I forgot how, insignificant as it seems, those tiny nails produce tiny scratches that lead to very sensitive nipples.

I forgot just how much poop can come out of a bottom the fits in my hand. While pregnant I figured, why set up the changing table? I can just change her diapers on my bed! I’ve been reminded of why changing tables are wonderful. I’d never needed to wash my linen on a daily basis before now.

I forgot that  I should have made time in my daily schedule to pump my breast milk. Even with an expensive electronic pump I’m spending up to one hour each day filling BPA Free 5oz bags. My freezer cannot hold much more.

I forgot the intensity of the nursing thirst. I feel like I can never get enough water. And the hunger, even at night I want to keep eating. I didn’t eat this much my entire pregnancy. And the cravings! Veggies are back on the menu, but for some reason corn, chocolate, and ice cream didn’t leave.

N2I forgot about the fatigue. I don’t know how I survived the majority of my pregnancy on three hours of sleep each night. Even though I go to bed shortly after putting my older girls to sleep, and even though I’m only waking to nurse and pee and change the baby’s diapies, even though we co-sleep, I still wake up low on energy. Like I haven’t slept a wink. What is wrong with me? By 1pm I’m always yawning.

I forgot how quickly the laundry accumulates when you’re cloth diapering. I’m happy to have made 35 gallons of laundry detergent before Baby’s arrival, but I’m still bewildered by the fact that I’m actually doing one load of diapers each day to keep the right sized fitteds, contours, pockets, and covers in rotation.

I forgot about the leaky breasts soaking an entire shirt in minutes. I forgot how time consuming burping a baby can be. I forgot how spit-up only comes out when you’re not protecting your clothing. I forgot how an onset of the hiccups can ruin everything.

But I also forgot how sweet those smiles can be, when they’ve fallen asleep after nursing, and they’re dreaming, but you’re hoping that they’re smiling because they’re dreaming of you.

N4

And I forgot how perfectly unscented their skin is, and how soft their hair, and how chubby their chins, and how round their bellies, and how sparkly their eyes, and how humbling their affection. I forgot how complete it feels to care for a baby. I forgot that my heart would expand and melt simultaneously.

And I never knew how incredibly cute two big sisters would be; eager to help with their baby sister, constantly wanting to hold her, kiss her, never wanting to miss anything.

I suppose there’s a reason I’ve forgotten many aspects of parenting an infant, but there are certain memories that I’ll work to keep with me from now on.

 

Back to Homeschool February 18, 2013

At Circle Time we discuss the date (and talk about holidays or special events), observe and chart the weather, then read and analyze a poem.

At Circle Time we discuss the date (and talk about holidays or special events), observe and chart the weather, then read and analyze a poem.

The girls are back to being homeschooled for the time being. I never wanted to put them in the private facility they attended while I was in school last semester, but I didn’t have many other options. After my marriage ended abruptly in May, and I found out that I was pregnant with Baby #3 two weeks later, I needed to make some big decisions right away. I was already finished with my first year of graduate school, and after much debate, figured it best to stay put in New England instead of moving back to my home in Illinois.

My Education Station - from flash cards to phonics, from body books to experiments in a box. The white container holds our most frequently used craft supplies. The tray atop is my schoolwork.

My Education Station – from flash cards to phonics, from body books to experiments in a box. The white container holds our most frequently used craft supplies.

For one thing, I was broke, and staying in school would give me loan money. It’s major debt, I know it, but I didn’t have a job, I’m still not getting child support, and with another baby on the way it seemed implausible to move back across the country expecting someone to find me a desirable employee.

There were a lot of other factors weighing into my decision to stay in New England, stay in school, and send my girls to the private preschool and private kindergarten they attended while I took classes, but more on that in another post. The school was decent enough. I loved the teachers and the way they went about teaching the kids, but it was no Montessori. My oldest, Amara, mostly got a safe place to socialize out of her time there. Terra learned to better identify her numbers and letters, and got a lot better at her drawings; the social aspect didn’t appeal to her as much, but she enjoyed the activities.

Typical weekday schedule. The girls painted the cardboard backing and helped choose the activities.

The girls’ typical weekday schedule. The girls painted the backing and helped to choose the activities.

This semester, as I was due with Baby #3 one week ago today (I am still pregnant. I don’t know when she’ll decide to come out), I opted to create a Directed Study course so that I could stay home with my girls. It’s only one class (you can follow my progress of exploring eMarketing here), but I’m able to continue getting loan money and my assignments are due on a much more flexible schedule.

The only problem with this set-up was that until a week ago the girls and I didn’t really have a set schedule. Having so much to do with little organization was getting the better of me, but we’ve finally solidified our routine.

Now, instead of simply knowing that I have to do umpteen chores, feed and bathe the girls, take them to various appointments and lessons, prep for Baby’s arrival, and between the insomnia and worry and whatnot do my homework as well, I have a schedule.

Our Job Chart. As with the schedule, I forgot to put pictures next to the words. I'm adding those today because I want Terra to feel more independent.

As with the girls’ schedule, I forgot to put pictures next to the words. I’m adding those today because I want Terra to feel more independent.

The girls have a schedule too, and they love it. I’d been working toward being this organized for quite some time, but between last semester ending, my nesting, and everything else consuming my attention, I couldn’t get around to really implementing the plan until recently.

I’d been keeping up with the girls’ homeschooling, but between teaching them and my other responsibilities I couldn’t find the time for doing my schoolwork. Creating a set schedule allowed me to find the gaps of space and time between the girls’ many activities where I could clean and work on my assignments and do some blogging. We’re so much more efficient now. Things are running smoothly, the girls feel a better sense of control over their day, and I am finally finding the time to complete everything.

There are numerous things that don’t go on their typical weekday schedule, like bath time and play dates and shopping and therapy; I made extra tabs for those things so they can be switched out with other activities when they need to go on our schedule. I love Velcro! Of course, Baby #3 will change things slightly, but I’m fairly certain she’ll quickly learn to go with the flow.

Planning their lessons ahead of time is going to be crucial to keeping our schedule on track.

Planning their lessons ahead of time is going to be crucial to keeping our schedule on track.

I also purchased a file folder thingy on clearance at Michael’s to plan out the girls’ weekly lessons. It’s perfect, it holds ten folders so I can work ahead to schedule their activities for M-F and put workbook pages and whatnot inside so that I’m not lagging when they’re due to have “learning” time.

I’m so excited to be educating my girls, and so happy that I finally have a better system for planning their activities, keeping track of their progress, and feeling capable of taking care of my household and continuing my education as well.

There are so many things I cannot determine with what will become of my life. This time next year I might not be in New England anymore. I will more than likely have to return to work directly after finishing graduate grad school. I don’t know how I will be financially capable of continuing to homeschool. But I’m trying to look at the bright side and live in the now.

For now we’ve got a good thing going. We’re at home. We’re organized. We’re learning. We’re safe. It may be a tough load to carry and difficult to balance on a daily basis, but when I really consider how much worse things could be I shouldn’t complain.

 

Due in 1 Week with Baby #3 February 4, 2013

Last week was an awfully trying week. Both of my little girls were sick and the weight of being a single parent was heavier than usual. The girls’ illnesses affected everything else. The dirty cups overran the sink, each having contained two to four ounces of a clear liquid; a multitude of cups used at once to encourage the girls to drink from the variety. The laundry kept piling up as everything was getting wet with one disgusting substance after the next. I got hardly any sleep; if no one was vomiting on me she was wide awake and wailing, having slept away the afternoon.

OverwhelmedCatI pushed through it, somehow. I really didn’t have a choice.

Maybe it’s the hormones of my impending delivery or maybe I’m just more depressed lately, but I cannot stop considering the bigger picture of my life. It looks like a catastrophe from a distance. How the hell am I going to get by? How am I supposed to manage caring for four human beings? How am I going to get through graduate school with all of these other responsibilities? How am I going to make it through these next few weeks without crumbling?

I keep finding my finger on the button with his name on it. Just one slip and I’d be calling him. I know I shouldn’t. I know it would just bring me down. What would he say if he answered? Surely nothing to ease my suffering at this point. What could he say to make this better? What could I believe from his lips even if they spoke the perfect words? What if a girl answered? Sigh.

I have more important things to consider at this time. I cannot get caught up worrying myself about his life.

Baby is still breech. I am willing to do whatever it takes to avoid having a c-section. I’m due in one week, but Baby might need more time to turn so I’ll be patient with her. These next few weeks may include hypnosis, acupuncture, a lot of time upside down, and if all else fails, a version. I’m not afraid of going past my due date, that doesn’t concern me. Getting cut open and needing weeks to heal while I’m alone taking care of three babies concerns me.

The Braxton Hicks contractions are coming on stronger and more frequently these days. My appetite is nearly non-existent. I’ve missed the past three weeks of sessions with my therapist so that’s probably another reason for the funk that I’ve been in. I just want to give Baby a happy, healthy welcome. I want to shower her with my affection, not postpartum depression. I want to be a good example for all of my girls. It’s just so hard to handle it all lately.

I cannot believe that in give-or-take one week I will have three babies. I really don’t know how I’m going to keep it together, but I suppose I do not have any other choice.

 

Negative Attention January 18, 2013

I was raised with corporal punishment, but I don’t believe in using it.SpankingECard

I never wanted my children to respect me because I am bigger than them and I can make them feel pain. I didn’t ever want them to see me as a bully. Growing up, I swore to myself that when I became a mother I would have unconditional empathy for my children. I would never forget how it felt to be a child and get “the look” from my mother or how unjust it felt every time a belt struck my backside.

Having been a mother for going on six years now, I must admit that I see why some parents decide to use spanking as a method of getting their children to behave appropriately. In the end I don’t think that inflicting pain on someone smaller and weaker than me will have the positive outcome I’m seeking, but in the moment it would certainly bring about proper behavior through a physical release.

I’d be afraid to spank my children.  I wouldn’t want to hurt them and I already hate it when they cry. If I have the urge to use corporal punishment I am already pushed past my limit of self-control and I can only imagine what could unfold were I holding a weapon. I wouldn’t chance it. I will not spank.

CalvinHobbsTantrumAmara, my oldest daughter, really thrives on negative attention. It’s extremely difficult at times to not give in, but the more I keep my cool, the more she realizes that making good choices gets her the response she’s truly looking for. Dealing with her negative behavior is the hardest to handle at bedtime; she and her sister share a room so Amara will be purposely disruptive. She’ll jump on her bed, say “Mama!” repeatedly in a loud, comical tone, get down from her bed and bounce a ball, call over to Terra to ask her questions like, “Are you asleep yet, Terra?! Terra!?”

When this happens I feel I have no other option but to move Terra to my bed so that she doesn’t have to be accosted. Though it’s unfair to make Terra leave the comfort of her own bed, the girls see my bed as a sanctuary, and the point I’m trying to get across to Amara is that if she’d behave herself she  wouldn’t have to sleep in her room alone. I hate these power struggles.

If I ask Amara to sit on her bed and use her calming methods (blowing out pretend candles -I light real ones for the major tantrums, using “buzz breath”, scribbling on a pad of paper, screaming into a pillow, etc) she’ll typically refuse and then follow me around the house making odd noises. She follows me so closely that if I stop abruptly she rams my body. I know that she wants me to scold her, so I say nothing.

I know that she wants me to hug her, but I cannot bring myself to giving her a hug while she’s being utterly disrespectful. I’m working on hugging her when I’m upset by her behavior, but it’s very hard for me to give a genuine hug when I’m repulsed by her actions. Also, at this point I’d have already offered her a hug, and possibly have given one, to deescalate the situation when I saw it starting, but she sometimes takes that as a cue to move ahead with more bad choices.

I want her to know that I love her unconditionally. That even when I want to slap her across the face to make her stop yapping and to just think about her actions for a moment, I still love her. I want so badly for her to realize the consequences of her actions because I love her. I would not try so hard to teach her things if I didn’t care.

NoSpankingZoneBut I will not give in to her pleas for negative attention. I refuse to lose my cool when she’s purposely playing me. I will practice what I preach and lead by example. We do not hit people. We do not bully people. When we are angry we do not scream or break things. When we feel bad we have ways to positively deal with things. If we need to take a minute to calm down before confronting someone about something we should find that peace. We should strive to show empathy.

I didn’t know much about handling my emotions before I had children. I was so used to being intimidated and not being validated that I didn’t know how to express myself, especially when faced with something that angered me. It is difficult to teach my children how to deal with their emotions at the same time as I am learning, but it is so rewarding to know that I am providing them with a strong foundation for self-control.This basis will help them to understand more about themselves and have positive relationships with others in the future.

Being loving, staying calm, and providing children with ample methods for handling BIG feelings is time-consuming. Much more so than spanking them. However, I believe that the benefits of teaching children to take responsibility for their actions instead of stripping them of their power will lead to well-adjusted, confident, mentally-stable young adults.

 

Nesting…or not January 7, 2013

Nesting.GlovesThere’s still so much to get done and nothing is clean enough and nothing stays clean very long around here.

I’m always doing the dishes. I’m always folding the clothes. I’m always cleaning the girls’ room for them because I’m too tired to incorporate it into their schedule.

I’m always cleaning their gerbil cage. I’m always giving the girls baths, washing, conditioning, combing, and braiding their hair. I feel like I never stop cooking.

I am so low on energy as I am still rarely sleeping, but every ounce of me is saying…MUST PREPARE FOR BABY!

I have to get the bookcase disassembled so that I can put up her swing in that corner. This entails removing the knickknacks, boxing the books and moving the boxes down to the cellar. There’s no space in the cellar for the boxes until I bring the baby gear up. There’s no place in the condo to store the baby gear except the kitchen, but I still have the Christmas stuff in the kitchen and the buckets for the laundry detergent. I need to take the Christmas boxes to my storage unit, make three batches of laundry detergent and clear the kitchen space to get the process started.

But I never have the time to make it to my storage unit or the strength and will to load the boxes in the van. I have little opportunity to be in the kitchen making laundry detergent because I cannot seem to get a break from cooking and cleaning. I just…AAUGH!!! There is so much to get done and so little time before she comes and I want everything to be perfect and I’m just not doing enough.

I am not capable of doing so much.Overwhelmed Mother

Despite my desire to get everything perfect I have to listen to my body as well. When I am low on sleep and doing everything to provide for my two little earth-side ladies it’s hard to find the time and energy to focus on Baby #3. I really want everything to be clean and organized and ready, but it’s so hard to do my nesting when I have so many other responsibilities.

School starts back up in ten days. It does not feel like I’ve had nearly one month of a break. I cannot believe that somehow I am supposed to keep up with the every day, my education, a new baby, a three-year old, a five-year old, and the aftermath of a failed marriage. What am I thinking?! How am I going to handle this?!

Keep breathing…that’s the first step. Keep doing what I can handle every day. Keep being the mother that I want my children to remember me being. Keep believing in myself. Keep refusing to quit. I can get through this. Maybe I will not make it to every nook and cranny of the condo, and maybe the baby gear assembling will take the back seat to sorting cloth diapers and infant clothing. The most important part is getting Baby here safely; I must remain confident that I will be able to sustain.

We’re going to make it through this okay. I would feel so much more relaxed though, if I could just dismantle that bookcase.

 

Resolutions December 31, 2012

2013 is going to be a very eventful year. My third daughter is due in February, my oldest will turn six, my second will turn four.

I will graduate from Emerson College with my master’s in Publishing and Writing, and possibly begin my career in the publishing industry.

I will continue coming to terms with myself; my failed marriage and the abuse I suffered throughout my eight year relationship transformed me. I do not consider every aspect of my marriage to have been negative. I do, however, realize that a lot of my identity was determined by my husband. If not directly, then by my attempts to conform to what I felt he requested of me.

Oftentimes I do not know if the thoughts I have are my own. Am I doing things because I like to do them or because I have been conditioned? Am I making decisions based on my attempts to keep him happy, or am I doing what’s best for my daughters and me? It would seem that with him out of the house, charged with a felony, over 1000 miles away, and unable to contact me due to the restraining order, I would have a better hold over my identity, but I don’t. Not yet.

I don’t know what type of music I like listening to anymore. I don’t if my political views are the same. I question my opinion of almost everything. I am not free if he still lives within me. I need to know what I believe. I need to relearn me. I used to be a pretty cool human being.

 

So even though the New Year’s Resolution thing is a little lame, the timing is perfect and there are several things I’d like to focus on in 2013:

Learning more about me – (outside of my relationship, even outside of being a mother)

Wearing my hair naturally – I haven’t used a relaxer (chemical straightener) for over eight years, and that transition was difficult, but I still feel discontent with the way I’ve styled my hair. I am still conforming. I am still blow drying and straightening, still damaging my curls. I would like to learn how to wear my hair in its most natural state. I know that it will take some time and I may feel intimidated by the newness of my appearance, but I believe it will pay off in the end.

Being confident -For so long I have internalized all of the negative things my husband said about me. It’s not worth listing those things, they are not true. I need to relearn my good qualities, redetermine my value, and let the beauty I have within me shine through. I was once the most fearless person in the room; I was bold without being brazen, confident but not cocky. I want to feel that certainty again. I want to exude self-confidence.

Meditating daily – Lately I try to meditate before getting out of bed in the morning and before going to sleep at night. Meditation is helping me to be at peace with things, to be positive about my future, to not be hindered by my past. I am enjoying the uplift that I get from each session and look forward to making meditation a habit.

Attaining physical fitness – I used to be incredibly fit. I could do 100 standard and 20 one-handed push-ups. I could run for hours. I had the body fat percentage of a body builder. It made me feel good to be strong and able-bodied. It gave me confidence to know that I was an animal who could protect herself from harm. I never showed off my six-pack, I didn’t even like to wear shorts. It wasn’t about the suitors I could attract with my body, it was about feeling powerful. I want to rebuild my strength. I know that I am due with my third child soon, and that I won’t be able to do everything I want to do right away, but I am setting my goals high for physical fitness and I will be working toward them in 2013.

Living more sustainably – We already make our own laundry detergent, bathroom cleaner, and dishwasher solution. We eat organic and local foods and shop our farmer’s market. I cloth diaper, breastfeed, and do lots of other crunchy things, but I’d like to start living even closer to nature. My main focus will be on the foods that we eat. I want to maximize our veggies, get better at gluten-free cooking and dive deeper into the paleo diet. I also want to be more frugal. I want to start making my own soap. I want to sew my own diapers or master EC. So many things really, but I am excited to be starting them all.

 

I don’t expect to fulfill every resolution as though they were items on my bucket list. I don’t see these objectives as things I can do and then be done with. These are aspects of my life that I want to focus on, get better at, and continue on with throughout the rest of my days.

I look forward to the new year and the things that I will accomplish in it. I know that every day will involve becoming a more complete me. Welcome 2013.

 

It’s Our Anniversary December 21, 2012

MayanCalendarToday marks my sixth year of marriage. A day I’ve looked forward to since we decided to wed on Winter Solstice in 2006.

At least we would be celebrating when the world came to an end, we’d joked. I’d wanted this day to mean something. I’d wanted to live through the threatened Mayan apocalypse a more unified team. But this anniversary will be quite different. This year I am alone. I don’t know where he is, but the restraining order keeps him from being able to make contact with me legally.

And tomorrow marks seven months since The Big Incident. This won’t be easy.

I’m trying to take my mind off of him today. This means more leg work for me, but it will keep the tears at bay. Every time I close my eyes I see his face. Not only in my nightmares does he haunt me, but every day. Every time I do something that he would have frowned upon, every time I feel unsure of my decisions, every time I need another adult to talk things through with, every time I wish someone could hold me in their arms, every time I am feeling weak and wishing that someone in this world needed me for their strength, his image surfaces.

Not all of my thoughts of him stem from my fears of him wanting to kill me.BrokenHearts

A lot of the time I try to figure out what I’ll do when I see him again. At some point we will have to be around one another. If not some ways down the road for the sake of our children then possibly sooner, in a courthouse, in front of a judge, and possibly jurors. Will I cave? Those beautiful blond waves of hair cascading down his statuesque face, perfectly placed over the mole that I’ve grown to know and anticipate as I’d rub the surface of his skin from his cheek to his angular chin. Those eyes that could compel me to do anything. His energy, drawing me to him effortlessly; he fills a craving, a void that I didn’t know needed filling.

Without him I feel incomplete. But with him I feel insignificant.

I never fooled myself into believing that leaving him would be painless. I did not expect, however, that after being hurt by him so many times I would still find it so hard to put my feelings for him aside. I still love him. I always will. I will always miss the fantasy of being with the perfect alpha male. I will miss the deep conversations and the times we got to play. I will miss the comfort of knowing that he would protect me from outsiders. I will miss the dream of us growing old together, of reaching double-digit anniversaries and being among the few of our peer group to stay married.

CatLionThis isn’t going to be easy.

I will always wish it didn’t have to be like this. But it is like this, and it doesn’t do much good for me to wallow in it. So I’m going to do something to put my mind at ease today. I’m not going to think about him constantly. I’m not going to wonder if he’s thinking about me. I’m not going to brood over what could have been had things occurred differently. I’m not going to cry myself to sleep. Well, maybe I’ll cry myself to sleep, but only if I think it will be beneficial to my recovery.

I need to start seeing myself differently. I am not weak, as I was made to believe. I am not worthless without him. I am not incapable of thinking for myself and making good choices for my life and my children. I am not going to be possessed by him forever, and I will regrow my self-esteem. It’s going to take patience, honesty, and a commitment to seeing myself as valuable. I’m going to work on that today. It’ll be the only gift I get this anniversary.

 

Death to the 4.0 December 19, 2012

NoB+I know that I shouldn’t be so incredibly disappointed, but I am. For the first time since graduate school began I received less than an A for my final grade. In one of my courses this semester I got a B+. For me, a B+ isn’t good enough, and I am terribly distraught.

I know that grading isn’t systematic and we’re basically relying on each teacher’s subjectivity; if I’d had a different professor I may have easily gotten an A for the same performance and the same work. That doesn’t really matter at this point, however, as I had the professor that I had and she gave me a B+.

Bummer.

I know. I should be proud of myself just for being in graduate school, trying my best, and attending classes these past 15 weeks while juggling being a single parent, being pregnant, and dealing with the mix of emotions that have surfaced since separating from my abusive husband.

I know. It’s graduate school, and I unless I’m planning on going for my PhD (which I’m contemplating) it won’t really matter what my grades were as long as I get my degree. But getting a 4.0 meant a lot to me. Maybe it’s because I didn’t try my hardest in undergrad? Maybe it was just because I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. I like challenging myself.

This feels like failure.

I know that I have excelled at so many things. I suppose the mere fact that I’m keeping my head above water lately, and surviving off of three hours of anxiety-filled sleep each night for the past seven months is…something similar to an accomplishment. But the B+ saddens me.

I know that I will still proudly walk the stage, content that I did the best job I could do in every course I studied. Ten years from now I will not think  about the B+ that I received and how much it tormented me. For the next few days, however, I will be sulking. Death to the 4.0 GPA.

The loss of another dream.