Self-Critical

Fair warning: This is going to be a weird process-y blog post.

As my graduation approaches, I've noticed that I go through these weird ebbs and flows of feeling super happy and proud that I'm almost done to feeling like I really shouldn't be so proud of myself. The biggest comment that my inner-voice tends to throw my way lately is "It's just a certification. It's not like you're getting a degree or anything."

This is true. I do not have, and will not have, a degree when this is over. Would I like one in the future? Sure. Absolutely. And at least I can apply these credits to a degree. But that time is not now and for the job I so desperately wanted, a degree was not required. What it did require was a certification. And darn it, I have worked my butt off for this certification while being a mom and being extremely involved in the boys' preschool for years. It has been the longest 2 1/2 years of feeling like I was never going to be done and wondering if I would ever get a Library Assistant job.

And now here I am: Twelve days from the end of classes and already employed in an adorable little library that I already love. I have kept myself on the President's List for the last year and have a 4.0 in the program. I should be so proud of myself. My inner voice needs to shut it.

I wish I knew why I feel so self-critical right now. Even after encouragement from my program advisor, I chose not to walk in commencement because it wasn't a degree and I didn't feel comfortable standing up there with everyone who was getting a degree. I've questioned that decision greatly over the last two weeks. I'm sure a therapist would have an absolute field day digging into why I'm doing this to myself. I found a quote from Susan Sontag that made some sense: "In my experience, no species of performing artist is as self-critical as a dancer". While I'm not "performing" per se, I can tell you that having critical thoughts drilled into my brain for 40+ hours a week for years on end probably didn't help.

Don't get me wrong: I am going to feel SO excited when I submit my last assignment. So, so excited. While I'm not walking in commencement, I am going to make sure John and I schedule some sort of celebratory dinner or something to recognize all the hard work I've put into this. And hopefully my inner-criticisms will find something else to gnaw on after a while.

More Growing Up

Tonight at bedtime, Aiden came into my room and said, "Mom, we need to talk. PRIVATELY." You can imagine the many, many scenarios going through my head as to what he could possibly need to talk about privately. But I calmly agreed to speak to him and we went into his room.

He sat down on the bed and says, "Look, I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but.....no more themed underwear, alright? I'm really trying to be cool here and you're not helping."

I somehow kept a straight face.

He continued, "And I mean no patterns either. Just solid colors. And no tighty whiteys anymore. It has to be boxer briefs. Also, I'm not very comfortable wearing themed shirts anymore."

I asked, "Are you ok with themed PJs?".

He narrowed his eyes and responded, "Barely."

So I agreed to go through his clothes and go shopping. He reminded me that he wanted to be involved in all of it. Of course. I would be a fool if I went shopping for his "cool clothes" without him.

It's just been a day of my children grumbling about their clothes. Nathan came home from school and took off his pants, saying that he doesn't like bootcut jeans anymore and will only wear skinny jeans from now on. Oy.

Growing Up

I was reading a blog post about a summer reading list for tweens, mainly because I wanted to see what was on the list. But then I noticed that "tween" is a child between 9-12. Um....Aiden will be 9 in October. Oh my word, I nearly have a tween. I think I almost threw up when that occurred to me.

I don't know why that realization shocked me. Over the past few weeks, he's been asking for less "kid" stuff. He got upset at the messy state of his room, then proceeded to organize his desk and ended up filling two garbage bags full of things he didn't need anymore. How adult of him. Once that happened, he looked around at his walls and requested that we re-decorate to make his room look less kid-like. What he wants isn't exactly "grown up" decor, but definitely more on the tween/teen side of things.

We were in the library on Friday and I asked him if he wanted to look for some new chapter books. He said, "Yes, but I want to make sure they're not for little kids. I want older, deeper, challenging books." As he browsed, he came across The War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells and proclaimed, "This is what I'm talking about!" So that's what he's reading.

I'm not quite sure where along the way my chubby-faced first born turned into a less chubby, taller, intellectual non-baby. He hates when I bring it up but I try to explain that in a way I'm kind of sad, but I'm also very proud of him, and watching him grow is one of the greatest joys I've ever experienced.

I expect more "no little kid stuff" comments over the summer, and I can deal with that. I might even be able to keep quiet as I feel the mixture of pride rising up inside me and a part of me dying a little. Raising a person is a strange, emotional experience.

The Final Countdown

I just received my graduation approval notice from PCC, and submitted the form to receive my hard copy certification! SQUEAL!! Three weeks to go!!