End of the Week, Beginning of English and Fear

This morning as I rushed to get ready for my first English 101 class, Braydon announced that he was not going to school today. Shocked, I stopped and picked him, then asked why. "I'm scared to leave you and I will cry at school today!" What? My fearless student has started to miss me when I'm not around. Touched and startled by the sudden change of heart I simply reminded him of the fun he's had and how nice the teachers and other children are. He was unconvinced, but got ready anyway. A million thoughts raced through my head. That teacher who sounds a little less than compassionate - was she too stern with him? The boy that accidentally kicked Bray when he was in front of his swing - was he actually a bully? The girl who had to hold his hand on the snow cone trip - Bray thought they were friends, but was she mean to him?

I had to shake it off. I know it is just the protective side of mommy that wants to analyze each little incident and make sure no one is any way hurting my child. The teacher are great and Bray said he likes all the kids. But I can't help but think of all the horror that could be. I guess this is the separation anxiety that every child goes through. He just happened to start and the end of the week, rather than the beginning of the first day.

As it turns out, there was no reason to rush this morning. I pulled into the parking lot, checked my schedule to see where the Eng101 class room is, and realized that I had been looking at the wrong class when I saw "Friday at 10:00am". Maybe if there was air conditioning in my car, it wouldn't have been a huge deal, but class isn't actually until 12:20. I was looking at something that doesn't start until September. Braydon was relieved not to have to go to school just then. Hopefully he gets over his fear before it's time to really leave. He will be at school in just enough time to play outside, take a nap and eat a snack. Nap time. Damn it.

School Supply Shopping

Standing in the school supply isle at Walmart, young children running around me, teenagers arguing with their parents about what type of pencils to buy, and college kids only slightly younger than me with carts full of dorm room items, I stared blankly at the wide verity of writing tools; my son draped over my upper body fast asleep and seeming to weight 100 lbs. I headed out to the store shortly after lunch with an energetic boy in tow thinking I'd run in and pick up a couple notebooks, a box of pens and some folders for paper handouts. My son, who outgrew naps six months ago, passed out in the cart and now that I was in front of the array of products and watching all these people purchase their education, my heart sank. I thought about going home to let him sleep, but this might be the only chance I got to school shop without a 3 year old begging for toys or new books. Overwhelmed and on the verge of a headache, I stayed and tried to determine the most necessary supplies.

I filled a corner of the cart with one 5 subject notebook, a box of pens, a small package of mechanical pencils, a few highlighters and 4 folders for handouts. “This ought to do it,” I thought and headed to the grocery side of the store to pick up a few more items. All in one shopping at Walmart – 7 years ago I despised Walmart for their corporate-ness. Now almost 25 years old with a child and quite a few years of real work experience, I love Walmart. My sleeping son was now awake and back in the cart after I shamefully bribed him in with a pack of pez I had in my purse for a few weeks.

When I returned home I decided to take a look online to see if there were any sites that discussed college school supplies and see if I missed anything. This is something I should have done before I set out on my shopping trip. I am usually overly prepared when I go shopping, but I had the urge to just get this done with so I left the house with a vague idea of what I thought I needed. As I sorted through the various blogs and Yahoo! answers, the overwhelming feeling of being in way over my head grew to new heights. I missed a lot of things on these people’s list. At first thinking the majority of these items weren’t really necessary, I read on… and on. When I realized that I hadn’t even considered the fact that I needed a stapler to bind my assignments together, I wrote out a list and resolved to go back to the store when my sister could watch her nephew.

Three days and roughly $60 later, I feel completely assured that I have everything I will need; perhaps even a few luxury items. I have set up an office area in my room and plan on buying a lap top as soon as funds allow it. I am more organized on a personal level than I have been in a long time. I rarely buy anything for myself, and never do so without also picking something up for my child. During the second shopping trip I put together a little “school” package for Braydon. Pre-school age children don’t need a whole lot and I have yet to discuss specifics with the child care director, but I figured if he didn’t need these items at school, he could use them to do his “homework”. Check out my next blog for a list of back-to-school items for college students, pre-school children and more!

So You Want to Go to School? Now What?

During the last five months, I have gone through just about all the steps in order to start school this fall. Having just missed the spring semester when I quit my job, I focused my efforts on making a plan for the fall, which is now fast approaching. I’ve been working freelance jobs and selling baked goods on the side to make some extra cash. My mother has been a huge help and I couldn’t have even started this process without her. I’ve thought, several times, about giving up and looking for another job.

I got my first job at 13 and have been buying things for myself ever since. Moving out at 17, fresh out of high school, has taught me, among other things, to be a strong and independent woman. Living with and relying on my mother at the age of 24 is not where I expected to be, nor is it easy to deal with. However, this is where I am and I am grateful to have the chance to change my life for the better.

When I graduated high school I was going to take one year off, start college, become a journalist and live the life I’d dreamt about. It didn’t happen. Rent, car payments, phone bills, food, road trips, the party girl in me and eventually a child and a grown up life: it all costs money. I worked several different jobs and never started school, despite the several times I promised myself and my family I would.

After making the decision and enlisting my mother’s help, I couldn’t back out now. This is the only way I can even think about having a real career and making a good life for my son. I applied for financial aid right away and racked my brain for months to pick a degree. Everything I have ever wanted to be, with only one exception, works with an associate degree in arts, so that is what I will work towards. Deciding what I ultimately want to be when I “grow up” was always the hardest part for me. I change my mind too often and have never wanted to be stuck with only one choice. Now that I am an adult, I need to narrow my many fantasies and the one thing I know I am good at and will be happy doing is writing; whether I become an author, journalist, editor, etc.

So here I am, financial aid applied for, degree selected, placement exams taken, classes selected, academic advisor seen, pre-school arranged, school supplies bought. Two steps away from completing the new student process. I am a nervous wreck.

Making the Decision

Five months ago, as I was standing in front of the over-sized file cabinets sorting invoices alphabetically, I was regretting quitting my executive assistant position at an innovative company in a beautiful office that overlooked the mountains. There, they used my talents and gave me my own office with my name on the window and understood when I needed to take my son to the doctor or stay home with him when he was sick. I’d worked there since I was 3 months pregnant and they knew I was a single mother. As long as I worked hard and completed my tasks, they gave me the wiggle room a single mother needs. It was the best job I had ever had and if they hadn’t cut my hours from 40/week to 20/week, without any warning, I would probably still be there.

Perhaps the stress of being overworked and underpaid was starting to seep through the hard work they were used to getting out of me, or perhaps they were really doing budget cuts as the Director of HR informed me. Regardless, there I was, working 20 hours a week, making just under $15 an hour with a work load that required 50+ hours a week and performing tasks that should have made me at least $25 and hour. I regretted going to salary.com to find out how much I should have been making doing the job I was doing. I was satisfied before I saw that figure and knew that if I kept working as hard as I was then I’d keep going up in this company. When I started to feel unappreciated, it was hard to hide.

There I was watching my potential career be slashed to 20 hours a week and less that $1000 a month. This barely covered babysitting and commuting costs. I couldn’t do it long. Because the CEO assured me the hour cut was temporary, I stayed for three months, suffering everyday, before finally giving up on the company. I quit without a plan and moved back in with my mother. It wasn’t long before I found another job as an administrative assistant at a wholesale bakery; closer to home, full time and with insurance (a benefit I wasn’t receiving at the “perfect job”). It was a little over $2 and hour less, but the extra 20 hours a week made my income higher than it was before.

I had been reduced to filing invoices and taking bakery orders over the phone after almost three years of climbing to a position where I supported two Vice Presidents of Strategic Development and a CEO. I handled international communications, helped develop products and websites, wrote franchise articles, edited a book, created full business proposals on my own (a job that typically takes a team of professionals), attended a few investor meetings, worked with the sales associates, bought advertising for our company, developed a charity organization, ran two entire departments and a long list of other duties. I did not belong in this bakery taking phone orders making $12 an hour and not needing to think for any part of my job. I lasted three months then quit with the intention of going back to school. I was 24 years old and my son was 2 ½. Spring semester had already started, but I couldn’t stay there another day, despite the desperate attempts of my supervisor, who was immensely overqualified for her position as well. I quit the same day I made the decision without a two weeks notice, which I hadn’t done since one of my high school jobs at TCBY nearly 8 years ago. With my mom’s promise to help, I decided that this would be the time I actually go back to school, instead of just talk about it for the millionth time. This time it is going to happen.