The Sound of Your Memory

On this chilly yet sunny day, I went for a drive and started thinking about my upcoming week.  As long as I have been teaching, my lesson plans have been written for the week ahead by Friday.  Of course, as the week passes, some assignments get carried over until the next day while others are checked off.  I teach second grade so I like to keep the routine as stable as possible so that my students know what to expect.  When they know what to expect, behavior tends to be more calm and conducive to learning.  I admit that I tend to think better and make better decisions when a "normal" (i.e. according to schedule) day can occur.  Unfortunately, this week will not have many days like that.  Tomorrow alone we will have an assembly which pushes my ELA lesson (which is to be observed by my principal) to midday when I normally run my guided reading groups.  This means I have to either cut out my math lesson and meet with a few groups before Art and a few after the ELA lesson or I need to teach math before art  and meet only with two groups after the ELA lesson.  Which way would be less disruptive to the kids? Then I have a parent conference after school along with the Monday tutoring I do for 3 of my students. I've been trying to get this family into school and didn't want to say no when the most convenient time was the time I use for tutoring.  So, I made the decision to have the kids use the reading program we have online while I talk with the family.  This week also has a book fair and a goodbye party for my student teacher scheduled to take place which will cut into more teaching time. Anything but a routine week, I feared that my students' behavior would suffer because of the multiple changes.

As I felt the sun shining on my cold hands and I began to think about how I could juggle all the disruptions, I felt my grip tighten on the steering wheel.  Instead of enjoying the sights and sounds around me, I let my preoccupation with work steal the beauty of the day.  Luckily, I was able to table this overthinking mode until I got back home.  If this was last year or the year before, I would have let the worry suck all the joy out of this beautiful Sunday.  I would procrastinate making a decision due to my anxiety freezing the part of my brain that has been dealing with these schedule disruptions for the past 26 years with ease.  Anxiety and depression were my constant companions for a long time, and I felt more comfortable not making a choice than moving forward and getting things done.  I am so thankful for the hard times and the lessons they have taught me.  The old piece of advice that says to take the time to smell the roses resonates with me in a way it never did before.  I used to swear that if I took that time that I probably get hurt by one of the pointy thorns. Now I understand that taking time for self-care and for just "being" is essential to my health.

Now several hours later I have made the decisions for tomorrow's busy day and am thinking how much I wish I could use this same process of "tabling the overthinking" for other areas of my life.  It seems like I am at a point in my life that the routines that I have established in my personal life are no longer working for me.  I have shared my ups and downs with both relationships and adoption in this blog and as I am approaching my 50th birthday, I'm realizing that I am in almost the same spot as I was 10 years ago. No closer to having a healthy relationship or being a mother.  I've started thinking that maybe it's time to start imagining a future without me being a mother.  Many people have pointed out to me that I already have served the role of mother to my own niece (who I could not love more if she was mine). Others have told me that my work as a teacher has helped countless numbers of kids in ways that I will never know.  While I do believe that my Livvie and my students have enriched my life and been the benefactors of my innate nurturing nature, it just isn't the same.  I want someone to tuck in at night.  I want to help my own child with his homework and watch as he develops into the person he wants to be.  While I know that there would be times where I would be exhausted and overwhelmed with single parenting, I would rather be exhausted from caring for my child than from doing anything else.  But I do have to face the fact that my time to be a mother may have passed.

I'm trying to sit with this version of reality and imagine if there is anything that I could do which could fill that hole that not being a mother has left in my soul. At the same time, I'm thinking about decisions I've made in the past regarding both adoption and relationships. But the only thing this familiar walk down memory lane is doing is making regret weigh heavy on my heart.   I realize that breaking out of my routines and doing something different is what I need to do to get a different result.  What that means for my future, I'm not sure.  Is there a path to motherhood I'm overlooking? Maybe.  Are there other things I want to do that will be easier without a child? Sure.  While this could lead me to more overthinking, I'm choosing to follow the actions that Willie Nelson sings about in one of his great songs:                        
                                   And ever since I met you my life's been a song
                                   A sad song, a love song with hate in between
                                  You'd be breaking my heart, it was clear from the start
                                  But my pen and my paper will keep my mind clean.

Cleaning my mind to drown out the sound of bad memories? Sounds like a plan.