Michael told me yesterday that school is already starting to feel "overwhelming." He has a cold, which I'm sure doesn't help, but the remark worried me.
I pondered how to help.
He has 4 impacted wisdom teeth and I had to pull him out of school at 2, to get across town to the oral surgeon's office in Marietta. So we had time to talk, in the car.
I told him when I get anxious I pray about it, and it calms me down. "Mom, God won't do my homework," was his solemn reply. I had to not laugh. It was hard, but I didn't.
"Mom and Google can usually get your homework done, Dude."
Wish I had had Google when I was his age.
When I was a sophomore in high school I was too busy to sit around moping or being terribly anxious. I was in chorus, on the newspaper staff, taking voice lessons, in drama club, and lord knows what else. I was always busy.
Most schoolwork was a piece of cake, except for math. I didn't like French class because I didn't want to memorize anything and that makes studying a new language well... impossible. I liked everything to come easy. Most things did, so the exceptions pissed me off.
Socially, I was a total washout. Short, chubby, myopic.... not a recipe for Homecoming Queen. I also had pimples and weird hair, and issues with gas sometimes because I liked to eat oatmeal every morning. Add to that a lot of shyness and a tendency to be very sarcastic when under stress, and I wouldn't have ever won a Miss Personality contest.
Now that I really think about it, I don't even want to remember those 4 years. I much preferred college. I liked being independent.I actually learned how to study and think critically those 4 years.
Michael has the issue that he is so smart, when he doesn't automatically understand something, he gets very anxious.
We are working on the issue.
I also told him that spending 20 minutes in the morning scouring his room for clean socks is not acceptable. He HAS to do laundry. I won't do it for him. He's old enough to do it himself. I will help him fold, since that's pretty time-consuming for him.
Running out of socks and undies is the last straw, the final thing before he does laundry.
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I was thinking the other day, I am finally feeling normal. I found myself writing this to a neighbor/friend I haven't seen in a couple of months:
Yes, the hysterectomy was really easy. The only significant pain I had was a bad headache because I couldn't have any caffeine the day of surgery. I have a phobia about stitches, but even the 5 small incisions [robotic requires 5; don't ask me why] were no big deal. I was in the hospital 24 hours, and the day I got home was Michael's birthday, and I made him a batch of homemade brownies. Takes all of 5 minutes to make them, from our recipe. You should've seen the surgeon's face when I told her I had done that. LOL
Most women hear "hysterectomy" and shudder in revulsion. It sounds like something done with very sharp knives by very sadistic surgeons who hate women and like to listen to death metal. My mother had a wicked incision, I remember well, because I asked to see it when I was 5, shortly after her surgery.
Yesterday morning we had monsoon rains. My backyard turned into a pond, for the second time this summer. The water was up to the hydrangeas just outside Mom's bedroom window, and that's scary.
I cannot even express how much I hate rain right now.
It's only good for one thing: making my flowers bloom.This rose hasn't bloomed all summer and I was afraid I was going to lose it. Then I saw this yesterday:
