When Mommy Has Homework

And of course Mommy waits for the last possible minute because I am busy saving lives, one set of lungs at a time, for a gazillion hours a week. And if there is one thing I have learned, it is that this program I am in is definitely not for the faint of heart. As in a paper due every two days. Really, y'all, I'm not kidding. In APA format, please. Usually I manage to spit them out like crazy since I am the master of the last minute paper. When John was in school, this enabled me to be his enabler. He would wait until the last minute and I would feel bad for him and crank out a paper for him in addition to my 24 credit hours' worth of classes. And he would always get A's on my papers, and thus the bad behavior on his part was reinforced.

But these are my papers and no one is going to rescue me like I did John. And I most decidedly waited until the last minute this time. I had until 11:59 PM Colorado time to complete the paper, and I submitted it at 11:43. Well, the paper and the 2 ads I had to design for some unknown telecommunications company in North Carolina. Ask me what I know about telecomm and I will tell you I can log my ass onto the internet and hit "talk" on the cordless phone. Seriously. And I had to market a telecomm company that manages the telecomm expenses of multi-location national companies. Seriously. It is like a sick joke. And so I had to come up with this marketing plan.

Excuse me, what? A marketing plan? WTF is that?

And so I was perched at the kitchen table for hours, looking haggard in an old pair of scrubs and some reading glasses, main-lining coffee and muttering expletives under my breath in the hope that Evan, who was awake and in the adjacent room, would not hear me. And he kept coming into the room to show me something or other, or tell me some random fact he learned in school a week ago that just came to his 9-year-old brain. And I am trying to be Good Mom and act interested. I sincerely hope the "MMMM-Hmmmmm"s I kept offering up sounded like they came from the heart. I really do. But what I really wanted to say was, "Evan, Mommy has this insanely difficult farking marketing plan to write. Do you know what a marketing plan is????" But I didn't because I love him and cannot afford the extra therapy. But I must have had APA on the brain because one of the random facts he spewed in my direction was, "Mom, palm oil is killing the rainforests!" Or some shit like that. And I responded with, "That's interesting, Evan, can you cite your sources on that information?" To which John busted out laughing, asking me if I really asked that of our 9-year-old kid. And--surprise, surprise--my little smartass came back in the room and thrust his Time for Kids issue at me, exclaiming, "Here's my source, Mother." Ugh. What was supposed to happen was Evan was supposed to be stumped and try to figure out what in the hell I was asking of him. It was supposed to buy more silence, less interruptions, and at least get me through the SWOT analysis of the paper. This is what one gets when they raise a smart kid. Because then not only was he back at the kitchen table with me, but he had the magazine and he actually wanted me to read the oh-so-interesting article of how palm oil is going to kill off all of the rainforests. Seriously. So when I looked at him and said, "Yes, Evan, but how is TeleSource going to reach a bigger market segment to compete for a bigger piece of the telecommunication dollars pie???", his eyes glazed over and he finally left me alone.

And now I realized I never got a goodnight hug. But the damned paper was in on time.

This is what I get when I say I want it all. I get just that. And something or someone always suffers just a bit.

Welcome To Nerdom

Welcome to Nerdom where I am your Queen.
I have to explain and I cannot believe that I am going to admit this in black and white on the damned internet.
Tonight I went to Staples for supplies for school.
Like I am fricken starting kindergarten and my Mommy is going emblazon my name in permanent black block letters on everything from my requisite 2 boxes of tissues, all the way down to my shiny new crayons.
Except I'm not in kindergarten. And I am a grown-ass woman. Seriously.

So I get my binders and dividers, color-coded by subject. My new planner that has enough space to write assignments and exams and other details. Pens and white-out and post-its. And I feel so silly and stupid because, while nobody else knows what is going on in my head, I know.
And what is going on in my head? That I love new school supplies. And textbooks. And school in general. And I am almost giddy about it. Maybe it is because I was pretty much forced to abandon my education, not only when my mother died when I was a freshman in college, but also during pregnancy. And I want to get back to it.
Or maybe I'm just a nerd and there is no other reason than that. Because honestly, I could think of nothing more enjoyable than taking classes that interest me for the rest of my natural life. To always be learning. And so I am ready. Ready ready ready.
My first class, incidentally, is Marketing. Ha!

Going Back

My name is Andrea, and I'm a student.

Again.

Barring any complications, I head back to class on April 3rd to begin the completion of my business degree. Since everything else is good to go, all I have to do to get a Bachelors o Science in Business Admin. with an emphasis on healthcare administration is to take the actual business courses. My stuff from my other degree exempts me from the rest.

It sounds so strange. Me. A business major.

Life does funny things to us sometimes. I never saw myself doing anything other than medicine. Never wanting to do anything else. Strange how having Zachy changed me that much. But not one for stagnation, I want to ensure that I have the needed degrees to take my current career as far as I want. Years from now, I don't want to be limited because I didn't take the time to get the degrees while I had the chance.

I'm doing a program that will have it all finished within 18 months so I can hurry up and move onto my MBA in healthcare management. I'm nervous and excited. I usually perform very well academically, and you cannot convince me that these courses will be any more of a challenge, or even as much of a challenge, as graduate-level human genetics, where I actually extracted and mapped DNA, or senior-level o.chem, which just about killed me, I swear. And I did all of thesre while working 70 hours per week, while being Mom Extraordinare, John's keeper, and keeping straight A's. Can you tell I'm trying to give myself a pep talk?

Because I have officially been out of school for a year. And now I have 2 kids, one of which is a baby who wants to wreak havoc on my laptop each and everytime I open it up.

I can do this, right?

I'm both excited and nervous. The less I am doing, the more bored and stressed I get. I'm the weird one for which happiness means a bursting schedule and a to-do list as long as I am tall. So on that note, I'm ready to go back. It's just that doing so means the end of this chapter: the chapter of my pregnancy, Zach's birth, and Zach's first year of life. I gave him as much of myself as I could for this past year. We both needed it. Now it time for me to do something for myself once again.

Let the juggling begin.