Does anyone else find worrying gets worse as you get older? Here is a short list, in order they present themselves, of a few of the things that keep me up at night. It goes something like this:
– How the hell am I going to get my daughter to practice on Monday?
Yes – this beats out all other worries as my number one worry. Because, lets see… I don’t get home until —, and my husband doesn’t get home until —, and both children have adamantly spoken about not wanting a sitter any more despite my attempts to redefine said sitter as a “driver.” It also doesn’t help that coaches announce the date and time of practice at most two weeks prior to the first practice. I have a vague recollection of an instance, when my daughter was really young, of receiving an e mail asking me to list my top three choices of dates/times for practice. (This had to have been the obligatory soccer venture of every young parent.) This courtesy seems so implausible, however, that I’m wondering if I dreamt it. Further annoying is that despite what I thought was a generation of two working parents, all others seem to be getting their kids to their respective extra-curriculars with no problem. Who are these families that have at least one parent with complete flexibility – that one parent who is “working from home.”
– Speaking of practice, what else am I remiss in doing in helping my (5’1″) daughter achieve her club volleyball ambitions?
What brilliant person (uh – that’d be me) thought it would be a good idea to encourage my young daughter to take up this sport when I myself am only 5 feet tall, so via the natural law of genetics (on both sides actually, mother in law is shorter than I am), and according to the American Pediatric Association, she’s projected to be at most 5’4”, suggesting this is going to be a monumental (but doable, dammit!) task , or require an act of miracle growth. For more of my worries about being a volleyball parent (I’ll spare you here, this list is a long one) refer to Blog #1, Confessions of a Bad Volleyball Mom. If you’re disinclined however, trust me to say that dear daughter’s volleyball career has been the culprit of many rough nights.
– Speaking of extra-curriculars…Shit! I forgot to sign my son up for – – (insert whatever sport/club/activity he asked me about this month).
Sigh. He really should do something in addition to piano. I really need to put more effort into his life. But alas, unlike with his older sister, I don’t know the parents in his class, didn’t get around to signing him up for the obligatory soccer until he nagged me into it (or maybe husband made that one happen?), don’t know the names of more than three of his classmates (’cause those are the ones he has over), and only once volunteered to be his room parent. And I only have two. I don’t have an excuse for this younger child fatigue considering only two, especially since I see my counterparts with four kids effortlessly juggling it all. Still, Second Child Fatigue – and Guilt – should be a recognized phenomena.
– Speaking of piano, why hasn’t my son’s piano teacher texted me to reschedule his lesson?
I wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that he practices a total of 10 minutes at a sitting, a couple times a week at best, and at every lesson I explain to his teacher again (like I’m saying it for the first time), “Oh, it’s been a busy one! This week he’ll have a lot of time!” I should call her… should I call her? I definitely want him to keep playing, but then again when the heck can I fit this in and how and when am I going to get him there? (See worry #1, and add another dose of bad-parent guilt here too.)
The panic I experience trying to figure out how I’m going to get my kids where they need to go (let alone on time) is tantamount to the same panic one feels when waiting on the results of potentially dire blood work. I kid you not. And what tomorrow’s schedule is, is the only topic of conversation I seem to be able to initiate with my husband. I otherwise seem to be at a loss for conversation. Now, for those thinking this girl should be grateful if these are in fact her greatest worries, make no mistake. I have all the worries of the average middle class American too! (Money, death, great harm to the kids, global warming, terrorism, disease, Trump…). In fact my psyche has developed an efficient system so that if the anxieties of the common every day have been alleviated (carpool now in place, kids are – thank god – back to school after most logistically challenging summer), then life’s greater concerns may surface, so that I can now toss and turn about them! Imagine if you will an ocean, with the top layer of water (the “Mixed Layer” – I just looked this up), representing the every day worries, parting so that the lower layer (the “Thermocline” – just looked this one up too), representing the more profound worries, may rise and spread out to replace it. It’s very efficient! Actually, I learned there’s an even deeper layer of ocean water (appropriately called “Deep Water”), which may, say, represent the existential worries. This is very convenient because I have them too! So the Deep Water may rise if both the Mixed Layer and Thermocline have parted!! Anyway, the bottom line is that I’m increasingly guaranteed sleepless nights, and I’m convinced it’s not age or caffeine or menopause that makes it harder to sleep as we get older, but the cumulative layers of worry we’ve acquired with life’s great parenting responsibilities.
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