Life’s been moving at a rapid little clip these past few weeks. I’ve thrown back into a student’s schedule and been juggling the responsibilities of being mom and wife. I can’t complain though. I’ve been learning a lot and although some things have fallen through the cracks on the home front, I’m happy. It’s been a challenge trying to let go of the Stepford idea of what a good mom does and how she acts…difficult to accept that while I forgot our turn on snack day that the world won’t fall apart and that there are worse travesties than a classroom of five year olds missing their Goldfish fix.
Life as a student is good. My classmates are young and earnest, with a propensity for drama that can be hard to take seriously. There is an 18 year old that manages to redirect every conversation to one which revolves around her fiance. I try to avoid her and her unwarranted advice on relationships. Another really talented cheerleader type wowed us with her knowledge of the drink special rotations for the local bars in town. After a few minutes she admitted to a recent phase of cocaine experimentation that quickly shifted into daily use. It wasn’t really surprising after learning she’d started to waitress at her favorite bar and needed the energy to wake up early for school. Still I tried not be condescending as I heard an old story with new players, shaking my head as I told her to watch herself. She just laughed…I kept my stories to myself. Better that she think I’m a cloistered middle aged type. That and I don’t want to give her any ideas.
Another girl was talking about the stress that she was under and told me that she’d been seriously ill since school started. I’ve been privy to her complaints about her parents, her boss at her fast food job, and the boyfriend who got upset about her inability to text him during our limited breaks. I didn’t remember her mentioning that she hadn’t felt well, her biggest ailment being flat hair and a few blemishes. She looked at me solemnly and told me that her mother was worried that she might have cancer…or hemorrhoids. The anticlimax made me throw my head back and belly laugh. I thought of her lunches of chili cheese fries and Hot Pockets and looked over at her face, which barely hid her disgust at my inappropriate response.
I guess I’m just not that grown up after all.