Where does the time go? Each day, I wake up and have all of these wonderful Waldorf-inspired ideas about activities to do with Dylan and Addi. We'll read some fairy tales, recite some daily verses...maybe I'll print out some coloring pages to go with the fairy tales, or maybe we'll do a craft. We can dress up with the play silks and costumes and act out the fairy tale, and maybe we can play a game, too!
Then I start doing my schoolwork, to get it out of the way so I can devote the rest of the morning to the kids. :::sigh::: By then, we're lucky to get through reading the fairy tales before it's time for lunch and then time to pick Connor up from school. I give Connor some downtime, then let him read to me and try to decide if it's worth the battle to get him to do his daily 15 minutes of writing (but they tell me he doesn't qualify for OT...yeah, whatever). Time for dinner, baths, and bed, and I realize I never got around to that craft project.
I try to assuage my guilt by telling myself that I'm doing this for them, that we'll all be better off after I graduate. But I still feel like I've let them down, a little. I fantasize about homeschooling, then I head off to bed, grabbing a little precious sleep before I get up and do it all over again.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Thursday, April 17, 2008
A dream...
I've been thinking too much lately about the life I didn't choose. Now those thoughts are even seeping into my subconscious. I dreamed last night that I was at a karaoke bar with Jessica and ran into someone I knew in high school, someone who was kind of a mentor to me when I was involved in theater. I listened with envy as she told me about her life; when it was my turn to share with her the direction my life has taken, the disappointment was evident upon her face. She verbally chided me: "You had so much potential, you really could have been something." Now I know this person would never say such things to me in real life—I'm sure that in my dream, she's symbolic of the life I didn't choose. Why can't I be content? Why do I always feel that something is missing from my life?
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Weird Dream
I had a very strange dream last night, and I have this nagging feeling that it means something, but I can't quite figure it out. I was in this arena-type setting, and I was anxious because I didn't have a ticket. That was my goal in the dream, to purchase a ticket. But I couldn't find the ticket office. I rushed around the arena, looking for the ticket office. I'd ask strangers where it was, but when they would give me directions, they led to nowhere.
Just about everyone I've ever known was there, in various seats spread out through the arena. I saw people I knew in high school, but I wasn't interested in talking to them. Nienna and Jessica were sitting together, on the other side of the arena from where I was, and they waved at me. Christina and Sandy were sitting together, in another section, but they didn't notice me. Mom and Jimi were together, with one seat separating them. Aunt Darlene, Uncle John, and Aunt Lindy were together, near Mom and Jimi but not close enough to talk to each other. A boy I was good friends with in high school and a guy I had a crush on when I was 19 were also there, not together, but I saw each of them and couldn't decide whether or not to talk to them.
I passed Aunt Darlene, Uncle John, and Aunt Lindy and promised to sit with them after I purchased my ticket. Then from out of nowhere a woman handed me what she said was a ticket, claiming that she had to leave. Suddenly I was with Mom and Jimi, and I told Mom to give the woman a dollar for her ticket. Mom started stammering that she didn't have a dollar. I rolled my eyes and told the woman I had a dollar in my car, but the woman interrupted me and told me to "keep the damn money." When I looked down at the ticket, it turned into a dollar bill. So I still had to purchase a ticket.
I continued in my hasty pursuit of a ticket, fretting that I was running out of time. I went this way and that, but still couldn't find the ticket office. Then as I was turning a corner, I saw Michael. He was young, like he was when we first met at the skating rink. I called his name and asked what he was doing there. He looked at me blankly and said, "I don't know you."
It was then that the damn alarm clock woke me up, and the dream ended. Weird, huh?
Just about everyone I've ever known was there, in various seats spread out through the arena. I saw people I knew in high school, but I wasn't interested in talking to them. Nienna and Jessica were sitting together, on the other side of the arena from where I was, and they waved at me. Christina and Sandy were sitting together, in another section, but they didn't notice me. Mom and Jimi were together, with one seat separating them. Aunt Darlene, Uncle John, and Aunt Lindy were together, near Mom and Jimi but not close enough to talk to each other. A boy I was good friends with in high school and a guy I had a crush on when I was 19 were also there, not together, but I saw each of them and couldn't decide whether or not to talk to them.
I passed Aunt Darlene, Uncle John, and Aunt Lindy and promised to sit with them after I purchased my ticket. Then from out of nowhere a woman handed me what she said was a ticket, claiming that she had to leave. Suddenly I was with Mom and Jimi, and I told Mom to give the woman a dollar for her ticket. Mom started stammering that she didn't have a dollar. I rolled my eyes and told the woman I had a dollar in my car, but the woman interrupted me and told me to "keep the damn money." When I looked down at the ticket, it turned into a dollar bill. So I still had to purchase a ticket.
I continued in my hasty pursuit of a ticket, fretting that I was running out of time. I went this way and that, but still couldn't find the ticket office. Then as I was turning a corner, I saw Michael. He was young, like he was when we first met at the skating rink. I called his name and asked what he was doing there. He looked at me blankly and said, "I don't know you."
It was then that the damn alarm clock woke me up, and the dream ended. Weird, huh?
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