End of one chapter and the beginning of another...

I pouted, whined and dragged my way through my final days of school. I've been on lock down for three and a half years, trading fun for homework. A month ago I compared it to my final month of pregnancy when I was evil and saying, I can’t take much more of this. Two totally different circumstances with the some of the same symptoms – mostly being evil and having acne, wondering how some people can love this. I didn’t love being pregnant and I didn’t love going to school. But with both I knew when it was over – what a blessing it would be! However, I don’t have a second child and the way I am feeling right now, there may not be a second degree. Funny, I also went through a “nesting” phase.  On the day I would finish everything, I woke up at 2 a.m. to wash my hair. For two inches of hair my routine is wash, rinse, wash (5 minutes shampoo stays on hair). Rinse, and wash with another shampoo. Rinse again, put in conditioner and put on plastic cap. I take off all seven of my earrings and put them in ammonia to soak. Then I put some facial stuff on my face. It won’t get rid of the bumps on my face but it will make me feel better about them. I bring all the laundry in the bathroom to sort and start washing. By the time the mask is good and crispy I get in the shower to wash it off and rinse my hair.  While in the shower I have a scrub brush and cleanser to clean the shower walls and tub.  I get out, proceed to put on clothes and wrap hair (prep for sitting under the dryer), then I clean the toilet. I put everything away sitting on the countertop and clean the sinks.  I go and get under the hairdryer (I moved it into another room to be quiet) even though my husband has yet to notice I’m MIA. I’m wondering how the fumes of ammonia haven’t choked him awake.  Laptop in my ‘lap’, I begin working on my school work, finally seeing the light.  On the way back to the bedroom to rub some shine on my hair, I grab the Windex and a couple paper towels to clean the mirrors, come back with another load of clothes to put in the washer. I go back in the bedroom to put the hairdryer back and stop by the other bathroom to clean the mirror, sink and countertop. It’s about 4 a.m. I wake up my son to use the bathroom.  I’ve learned if I get him up to pee then he sleeps a little later.  If he wakes up because he has to pee and he sees the sun, then my quiet time is over.  After he is back in bed, I clean his toilet and head back to the front to continue school work, clothes are in the washer and a load is in the dryer. I’m a multi-tasking fool.  By 5:21 a.m., I’m snarling – I’ve got a headache in my eye.  I make some tea; it’s too early for coffee.  By 6:00 a.m. my husband is up tinkering with his airplanes.  I go and take our sheets off, and put some clean ones on.  He asks, “What time did you get up?”  I flatly respond, “Two.” “TWO O’CLOCK??” he asked.  I am too spent to reply with sarcasm.  I just say, “Yeah”. He knows to leave me alone.  He’s gone by 6:45 a.m. to fly his planes. That’ll take half the day – good I don’t have to fix breakfast.  7:46 a.m., my son calls “Mom is it time to get up yet?” I’ve jinxed myself hoping he would sleep later with an empty bladder. I set him up with a dry breakfast and cartoons and get back to work. I go take off his sheets and make his bed. I then go take the shower curtain and liner off in our bathroom to wash.  Did I have to do this today? No. I have periods of anxiety cleaning; it’s an affliction with benefits.  By 11:47 a.m., the weight is lifting. Two assignments down, one to go. By 12:30 dinner is cooked and all the dry laundry is piled on my bed needing to be folded.  My son is asking can I play with him and wondering when is daddy going to be home – I’m just in a zone – tunnel vision for the finish line. I’m getting ready to have this baby!  By 1:06 p.m. my eyes are getting heavy but I can’t stop. I can’t take anymore breaks.   2:00 p.m. I just turned everything in. I feel hot behind my eyes like I am getting ready to cry. I feel the vein down the middle of my forehead bulge because I’m trying to hold it in.  I let it go. I cry with my hand over my mouth for a good ten seconds and suck it up – my son is in the other room and he’s never seen me cry.  I’m a zombie now, not knowing how to feel about this.  I go to fold the clothes like nothing has happened. In my daze my husband comes home, everybody eats and they are gone. It’s just me and the house.  I realize I’ve done everything so that I would have NOTHING to do when I finally turned in my work.  The house is quiet. I sweep the kitchen floor just because.  It’s 3:27 p.m. I contemplate whether or not it’s too early for a glass of wine - while I am already pouring it.  I head to the bedroom.  I look at the neat bed and say I can’t get in it without a shower. When I get in the bathroom, I look in the mirror and decide I need a haircut.  Yeah, I cut my own hair. And I did a good job considering I’ve been up for over 12 hours and I’m drinking a glass of wine.  I touch up my eyebrows with a razor, and then get in the shower.  I used my lavender stuff hoping it will calm me down.  I get out; put in all my earrings, put on my pj’s, get another glass of wine and curl my hair.  NOW everything is done.  I get in the bed and dream that I am not really sleep. When I wake up three hours later I am still home alone and feeling like I’ve had a massage during my three hour power nap.  Now I don’t have anything to do. What now? I feel my face and notice that the bumps are smaller than they were at 2: am.  I’ve had the baby!!! Yesterday at 2: am and many days before that I hated school.  Today, I think what a privilege it was that I could even go. I am proud of myself for finishing, honored to say ‘I have a degree” and just like with my son, I hope that I do everything right by what I worked so hard to get.

And just a plug in for my school, as the ad says "I am Phoenix!"