Time-Bound
Children mentioned…
No Barren Advice today. Perhaps, instead, you have advice for me.
I am admitting all of this here for two reasons even though this embarrasses me tremendously. (1) It could help someone else who is going through the same thing and (2) I want to reflect one day how far I’ve come because I do have a lot of hope that things will change.
I have been conducting my life out of the preschool library. By this point, I consider the end seat at the table my own and if need be, I would pee on it like a squirrel monkey to mark my territory. I spent the morning writing notes to my niece and friends on my new pink stationary. I read a book. Made some phone calls. And told myself that tomorrow would be the day I’d leave the building. And then I promptly felt ill and decided I would wait until the morning to make a concrete decisions.
I have not actually left the twins at preschool yet.
The first day of school, I was the only parent crying. The children were not crying, their parents were not crying. But I was sobbing–and not just for the initial drop off. I sat in the library by myself and cried long after every other parent had left the building.
The next day, I was again the only parent crying. And while people were sympathetic on the first day, they seemed a tad confused by the second day. This week, I have not admitted to anyone that I’m remaining in the building. I drop off the kids and walk down the hallway as if I am going to use the main door to the school. And then I veer down another hallway and go to my library space in a lesser traveled part of the building. I come back out close to pick up time and pretend that I just arrived from errands. No one asks me what I did and I don’t admit that I have been standing on a chair in the library, trying to see the playground from my perch.
I am embarrassed that I can’t bring myself to leave the building. This is really not how I want to conduct my life. I have a ton of things I’d like to get done–both workwise and homewise. I would love to be going forward with new projects and instead, I am frozen. I am completely frozen. I can’t bring myself to leave the building. And it’s not that I don’t trust the school or their teachers. I love the school and their teachers are fantastic. I can’t really put into words what it is. Maybe that if I walk out the door, it will be an admittance that my children are now four years old and moving away from me. Growing apart from me.
And even if I get to have a third child, this will all happen again. I will not be able to keep them at home with me forever.
This is a problem that can’t really be solved.
I thought I’d write out this long entry and come to this perfect peace that would enable me to walk out the door tomorrow. But I have erased the end of this post numerous times because I don’t really think I can say what I want to say. Meaning, I can’t find the words. I can’t tell if I’m grateful for the fact that I don’t have deadlines this week. On one hand, it enables me to sit there. On the other hand, there is no impetus to work through this beyond my own shame.
I wrote out small goals for myself–Stop crying. Move outside to the car. Walk over to the post office. Drive over to McDonald’s for an iced coffee. Go in the house to get something and come back immediately to the school. Go home and stay there, writing out the LFCA. Go home and begin work on something creative again.
I have not accomplished much.
It all boils down to time. As a child, I would horde candy and never eat it because if I ate it, I didn’t have it to look forward to anymore. The sad part, of course, is that we ended up tossing a lot of candy I could have enjoyed. As a college student, I would start mourning the end of the trip on the first day. I was so sad to have vacations start because it would mean that I was closer to the end. And now, I am just so incredibly sad with this idea of people aging–of myself aging and Josh aging and the twins aging. Having them moving apart from me is just a reminder of the passing of time.
This post probably doesn’t fill you with confidence to submit a question to me for next week’s Barren Advice. But know that I have a lot of time on my hands, a quiet library, and a good deal of neuroses of my own.
A gift for the comment (well, to the commentor) that triggers my ability to at least run local errands. Send your best advice and I will let you know the first one that works.
0 comments
I had a hard time leaving Noah at daycare for the first few weeks. I warned the women there that I would be calling A LOT. And I did. For the first few days I think I called every 2 hours. They dealt with it, because really….what choice do they have?
You have to force yourself to leave. Staying there and disrupting YOUR day isnt going to fix anything. It isnt going to make the fact that your babies are growing up, any less painful. You must make yourself leave. Go do something for you. Go get your nails painted. Or do that errand that is difficult to do with kids in tow. You cant spend the entire school year hiding out.
Hugs!!
Hope it gets easier really soon.
PS…how do THEY like school?
Perhaps if you set up an appointment or made a date with a friend for a time directly after you drop them off, you can convince yourself you have to leave because you have made a commitment. And once you leave it will seem silly to try and sneak back to sit in the library. So you will magically go and be productive.
Or at least you’ll have some coffee and be able to dream about being productive.
It all boils down to time. As a child, I would horde candy and never eat it because if I ate it, I didn’t have it to look forward to anymore. The sad part, of course, is that we ended up tossing a lot of candy I could have enjoyed. As a college student, I would start mourning the end of the trip on the first day. I was so sad to have vacations start because it would mean that I was closer to the end. And now, I am just so incredibly sad with this idea of people aging–of myself aging and Josh aging and the twins aging. Having them moving apart from me is just a reminder of the passing of time.
I could have written this myself. And every now and then (not often) along this bumpy road to parenthood, I find myself wondering, if it’s going to make me sad, should I try so hard?
(of course.)
Do they have to bring anything to school? A snack, perhaps? Something THEY would be upset to not have by say .. 10 AM?
You could “realize” you forgot it as you dropped them off and promise to be back with it in time for .. whatever, and then you HAVE TO go home (or at least to the car, where you stashed it) because it’s FOR THEM.
It’s only a partial solution – it gets you out the door, but it brings you back again. But maybe after that first time leaving, you’d be able to do it easier after that.
And most of all, realize that their going to school and not needing you to stay is a testament to your good parenting. And a good parent deserves a nice trip to McDonalds in the morning!
I vote for making an appointment for a pedicure. Maybe if you break the spell once, it will be easier next time.
I wish you didn’t feel shame. I am probably the unpopular one here but I see nothing wrong with it. To be frank I could not leave Bliss either.
I feel very strongly that I am in no rush for my child to grow older and be more independent. I am not activeky hampering but I do not believe in pushing him. I don’t ever use terms like “be a big boy” or that sort. I am not in a rush for him to hit milestones that are age related. I have him a short time and am thrilled he still loves to be with me most of all. I have friends whose 10 year olds still like to be with their parents best and I strive for that.
So I wish you peace and love and I think you are just fine exactly as you are.
I really thought I’d be a mess, especially with it coming roughly 6 months after Maddy’s death, but I watched Bella’s back as she trotted in, quickly absorbed herself in something, and realized that she was just fine. I walked out, nary a tear, and went for a run.
Having said that: our director stresses that kids and parents need all the time that they need. She says the record for a mom staying at school with the child is two months. Everyone giggles nervously. Everyone understands if it takes your child — or you — two weeks, that it’s still normal, and you’re still fine.
I’m actually with Bleu here. Don’t leave until you’re ready. You’ll know the day you are.
FWIW, Bella had this insane freakout in April where suddenly she was a crying screaming mess when I dropped her off. Clinging to my pant-leg, howling “Mommmmmy!” with enormous tears. Her teachers shrugged and said things happen, even eight months into the school year, not to worry, she’ll be fine. And May 1, without warning, she pecked me on the cheek and said “bye mom!” like she did on the first day in september.
This whole process is just confounding.
Do you have a local, supportive friend who could come along with you one morning? Someone who could take that difficult walk away from the building alongside you and not judge you for crying.
Seeing our kids grow up and start moving away from us is so difficult, isn’t it? Yet giving them that independent space is one of our gifts to them as we parent. Hang in there. It will get easier.
I ditto the above advice – it all sounds good! Remember . . . baby steps.
I still have the utmost confidence in you. Even the advice giver needs advice of their own sometimes.
Huge hugs!
OK, here is the thing, if you want to stay, stay. They are children and you have the right to handle this the way you need to. However, I would suggest that you don’t sneak around. Tell the director that you are overwhelmed by the change and that while you try to get used to the idea you would like to spend the days in the library. You don’t want them to see you as deceptive. That would not be a good start.
If you decide you are ready to leave them, what you really need is to have Josh take them and drop them off. Then, you need to just try and pretend they are on a playdate or with your usual babysitters, whatever makes you the most comfortable.
First off, Can i tell you that I am crying with you. This just breaks my heart.
I second (or third) the suggestion for a pedicure.
I really love the idea about the friend.
Go one better than a pedicure. Schedule an hour long massage. That will get you away for a substantial period of time and you will feel divine when you are done.
Maybe you can offer to volunteer in the classroom a little? I was a daycare teacher and I would have loved to have a parent come in to do a special craft or snack. It might be easier to leave after you’ve seen them comfortable in their environment a little.
(If you decide to do that, I have plenty of fun craft and snack ideas for that age group.)
By the way, I totally understand. It seems perfectly logical to me to stay at the daycare all day. When I was small and attending daycare, my dad had to drop me off because my mom couldn’t do it. She picked me up instead. Don’t be embarrassed. You aren’t the first and you certainly won’t be the last.
Or, can you have a friend go with you one morning? If I were there, I’d be happy to sit in the library with you until you felt ready to sit in the car instead. Or maybe have a friend that you trust sit in the library for you one day? Then you will know someone is there, but you could leave?
You are missing out on enjoying the present by worrying about the future. They are not growing away from you: they are growing up, which they are supposed to be doing. I like much of the advice others have given here, but you really need to think about dealing with this issue within yourself. Sorry if this sounds harsh.
I won’t have to deal with this till next year but if it makes you feel better I read it and thought, “That sounds like a great idea.”
What about running an errand for them? Shopping for them makes me feel better on the rare occasions we’re apart.
You are you and you have to respect yourself whatever you feel “ready” or “not ready” to do.
But, the really weird part is that each child is different, even yours I imagine. Three weeks ago I sent my second born (but first to stay here with me) to Kindergarten. I had to be strong because SHE was a mess. As described before the whole clinging to my leg and crying thing with a touch of flailing and wailing thrown in. It was torture and I had to curb my urge to call every ten minutes! (They kinda frown on that in public school)
So, with that as my recent experience I brought my youngest for her first day of preschool yesterday. Would you believe she hung up her coat, put on her nametag and turned to me saying, “Mama, can I go now?”. That day, I cried! Go figure.
I know this wasn’t very “adviceful” but sometimes other peoples experiences can be just as helpful, or at the very least, give you a good laugh!
All the above advice sounds good, but I’m with Bleu, too. This is your process just as much as it is the twins’. So you just take all the time you need. Wishing you peace and reassurance that your connection with Wolvog and ChickieNob is way stronger than preschool, distance, or the march of time.
When I was in 7th grade, we got to watch “The Lord of the Rings” cartoon in my English class at the end of the year. I thought it was AMAZING. I wasn’t familiar with the story, and had never seen that kind of awesome animation before. I was completely entranced. I loved it SO much that I kept turning around to look at the clock to see how much longer I had to watch it. I knew we wouldn’t finish the movie that first day, and I loathed the thought of it ending abruptly, and my shuffling off to the next class (which was sure to be nothing as incredible as watching this movie.) I remembering looking at the clock and thinking, “Crap. Only 20 minutes left.” Then, again moments later, “Only 16 minutes left……Only 12 minutes left….” At one point, my teacher even came over and whispered in my ear, “Are you okay? You look so worried and keep checking the clock. Is everything alright?” I could only reply, “I’m fine. I just don’t want it to end.” I turned around so many times to eagle-eye the clock that I actually started losing the plotline of the movie. I got confused about the characters and lost track of what was happening. My initial joy turned into frustration, and I couldn’t very well ask the teacher to rewind it just for my sake. I had missed it, and there was no going back. (And, my family didn’t own a VCR, so there was no option to rent it later on.) Rather than enjoy every minute of the movie, I spent every minute dreading its passage, which of course did nothing to stop or slow the passage, and only served to ultimately ruin my experience.
My advice is to think long and hard about all that you are losing by living in so much fear and reluctance, and decide whether it’s worth trading for all the joy you could be experiencing instead.
Sending you lots of **hugs**
No advice from me on this I’m afraid. But don’t beat yourself up too much. At least you are going down the hall and not staying in the room with the twins. They are still getting the opportunity to go to school and learn independence. I’m sure with everyone’s suggestions you’ll find a way to get yourself to leave the building soon.
Oh you..You remind me so much of my mum. My mum used to wait outside the classroom, look at me through the windows, every single day for almost 3 months, I think. She didn’t stop until my dad had to force her to go home after dropping me off. Though she has never experienced infertility before, but I guess it’s because she was a SAHM and we used to be around each other the whole day. I think she couldn’t let me go, and she felt all alone when I wasn’t around.
Then, when she passed away when I was about 8 years old, I started to look out for her in the classroom. In a way, I was missing her.
Step by step. You’ll find your own way to let go.
(((((hugs))))
I don’t really have any advice. Sending you a hug though.
Bring a friend with you when you do the drop off — someone who will be able to help to get you out of the building (and distract you afterwards). You need someone who is both very strong and very comforting….
I will meet you for coffee/conversation (and you can even hold and feed you-know-who if you want) to keep you distracted. I don’t care if you cry or if you’re totally distracted because you’re worried about getting back. We can do it any Monday or this Friday before music class starts. No choice here. If you reject my invitation I am going to take it personally 🙂 We can meet near the school so you feel better. Maybe we can make it a regular thing and keep meeting a little farther and farther from the school each time? Call me.
I just started back to work a couple of weeks ago and have been trying to compose a post about my realizations on leaving him. Today was the first day he went to day care but I didn’t have to leave him. But I could have. Most days he is with my MIL. I despise this even while I count my blessings. I actually found the idea of day care strangely easier today.
My realization was that it requires this very disgusting and unnatural shutting off of your brain. The mom brain. The deep animal mom brain. It has to shut up. It requires pretending that you, perhaps, don’t have children. I have a lovely day at work now. I don’t feel guilty. But at the end of the day, that last 30 minutes or so, I start to feel like I am going to throw up. Mom brain is switching back on. And I almost sprint home. And there he is, fine with MIL even though I spend the 20 block walk dreaming up all the terrible things that have surely occurred.
All this is not to say you should hurry up and try this. You should take your time. I am just sharing my mindset, since you asked. My issue is definitely not time like yours. I don’t have a growing up thing so much. I have a ridiculous paranoia thing instead. Maybe that’s easier to get around.
Forgive me if I repeat, I haven’t yet read the other comments.
First a huge hug.
Second, some tough love. The more days that this goes on the harder it’s going to be. You’ve built this up into this big monumental, insurmountable thing and with each day that things grows larger and larger. You need to quick take of the bandaid and get it over with. Drop them tomorrow, don’t think and get out of that building. Even if you just sit in the car sobbing the entire time at least you are out. I had a similiar experience when I lost my baby, I didn’t want to return to work b/c they all knew what happened, I called off for weeks and weeks and built it up into my head into this huge thing, it was huge and it was hard, but nothing like I had built it up to be. And once I was there 5 minutes I was ok and able to move on.
And third, a big hug b/c this is such a hard and scary thing.
Leave
Leave
Leave
Just do it
I’ve done it in daycare, preschool, elementary kindergarten, and high school. It never gets any better.
But right now, you need to leave. Make yourself.
Start with getting in the car to wait. Do that for one day. Then start the car and turn it off. Do that for one day.
Then drive to one errand place close by and right back for one day.
Then drive to two errand places and right back for one day.
You get the idea? Babysteps.
If necessary, get Josh to come with you for drop off and get him to make you leave with him. Sometimes, we need husbands. This is why.
And after reading Bleu’s comment, can I just say that I agree, but I assumed that if you were that into attachment parenting, that you would not have registered them for preschool.
I think you will be fine, because if you really weren’t ready to leave them, you would never have registered them in the first place.
my lame advice is go somewhere BESIDES mc’ds for that iced coffee.
maybe treat yourself to something special, something grounding, something indulgent. do something kind for yourself that will allow you to appreciate the wonderfulness that is you. I’d say a massage if they weren’t so expensive. or something at a craft store. meet a friend for a nice walk. bake something fabulous. anything.
just breathe your way through it, and feel no shame.
Make plans with a friend during preschool hours one day and make sure that friend knows that you need this help. This will keep you accountable. Make it a short coffee date or something similar so you don’t have to be with your friend the whole time the twins are at preschool.
I didn’t read all your advisors, but I did see that I am about to copy Luna.
You are having trouble with flow. Which is hilarious to me because on so many levels, you are one of the most “in the flow” people I know.
When you start to feel the horde response, breathe through it and think of flow. A gentle river, a lilting melody, graceful body movements, effortless writing.
Oh, Sweetie. I wish I were there to have coffee with you. And that really good vegan food you took me to. We’d go there right after yoga.
The comments above are so good there really is nothing better to add!!
Good luck, though!! The fact that they are doing ok at school means you’re doing it right!! 🙂
It's hard, but it does get better. Maybe you could start smaller. Make yourself walk out the door to the end of the sidewalk if they have one and then head back in. It's like that song from the movie from Christmas time where they teach the snow monster to walk.."Just put one foot in front of the other, and soon you'll be walking out the door" It might help to hum as you sing the words in your head.
I used to send a picture of me & my then husband to school with my son when he started pre-school. It was laminated and he could pull it out to look at it when he missed us, honestly I think it was more for me, a way to leave a part of me with him. I did the same thing with my daugther 5 years later. He is now 15 and she is almost 11, and they still wont go off without giving me a kiss goodbye. Whew…I didn't mean to run on this long. Good luck, I'm sure you will do great:)
Not being a parent perhaps disqualifies me but I’m commenting anyway. I think someone else said this but why not make a coffee date with a friend somewhere nearby? Not for the whole time they’re in school at first but maybe for an hour? Then you can go back to the library. Just give yourself something else to look forward to…mani/pedi/massage. Perhaps this is a good time to go buy that new bra you were talking about. 😉
Hang in there. I can’t imagine how hard it is watching them grow up. My granny used to tell my mom “If they weren’t growing up then something would be wrong.”
No real advice, as I've not been through it before. All of the suggestions you've gotten seem great, and I'm sure that something will click for you!
ok, I lied, 1 suggestion… maybe drop them off & then go prep some activity (craft? cooking?) to do with them when they get home?
I don't know what will work, but I DO know that you will figure it out! Hugs darlin'!
Big hugs.
Go buy the twins something after you drop them off. Make it a “great job at preschool” present. Get them a book they’ve always wanted, a new t-shirt, stickers, anything. If you have an errand that continues to focus on the twins (and one which you know will make them exceedingly happy if you do it), maybe you’ll be able to leave the building.
But if you don’t want to, don’t. Life is too short, Mel. Just as our babies adjust to spending time without us soon enough, we adjust to time away from them, soon enough, as well.
ok, maybe I am weird, and I know this isn’t practical forever – BUT, there is something in this story that just makes my heart melt.
Watching your children take that step, knowing it is a first in many they will take into a world without you, is HUGE. And I don’t know if we give ourselves enough opportunity to acknowledge these transitions in our lives. There is grieving to be done and your heart is awake and aware and alive enough to know it needs to do it.
In situations like these, I am a big fan of creating a ritual or ceremony, something to honor what is happening so that I can feel like I have truly paid attention to it, and allowed it the space it needs. I have no idea what that would look like here.
I keep thinking that though when you your kids are teens and hear this story they will simply roll their eyes at you, when they are older – this story will be just one more piece of your heart you have given them that will send them into the world knowing they were loved deeply by their momma.
That being said, I know you will have to leave that library eventually and my hope will be that rather than doing it in shame or forcefulness, that you will find a way to make the transition meaningful and memorable and honoring to your sensitive heart.
First of all, I think that you’re very brave to have shared this with all of us, and to have asked for our help in dealing with it, Mel.
Although I’m not a parent myself, I was very moved by this post. My heart goes out to you as you struggle to deal with these profound feelings of loss.
Having read over other people’s comments, I think you’ve been offered lots of really good, practical advice as to how you might begin to break this cycle. But I think you also need to work out why it is that you are experiencing such profound separation anxiety. Do you think that a few sessions with a therapist might help in this respect?
One thing that I’ve always found helpful is to ask myself the question, “what’s the worst that can happen?” I’ve found that it helps me to begin to rationalise my fears and anxieties.
If you were leave the school and pop over the road to the post office, what’s the worst that could happen in the time that you’re gone? How likely is that worst case scenario to happen?
well I didn’t read all the comments and so I don’t know if I’m going one way or the other with PP, but here goes.
I am crying with you, mostly out of my own shame that I never call daycare and I drop my kiddos off and kiss them and hope beyond hope that I will see them at 5pm. My neurosis lately is me not coming back, not them.
Here is how I deal with the things that you are, I shop AND I think about what it will be like when I see the kiddos again. In fact if I am having a day like you are having and I can’t bear to leave them then what I do is obsess on the “hello time”. Yesterday one of my offices told me that her little girl was crying when she left her and didn’t want to say “goodbye” I wrote back and told her as much as I hate “goodbye” …it always means that I get to say “hello” again later and see the smile it brings. (now I’m making MYSELF cry) but it works for me. I just meditate and shop and play that moment over and over until it’s time to get back to my kids and of course it’s NEVER like I envisioned it BUT it takes the sting away. I do get the smile, I do get the Hello and I do get the HUGS…
hope the next few days are a whole lot easier sweetie, it makes me sad to hear you sad. But I totally get it, as a mom, time is always going to be an enemy now. Sweet and sour…that’s motherhood.
*Hug*
I feel utterly unqualified to offer any advice. Especially since I can’t seem to get any of my embryos to stick around more than a couple months or so.
However, with most things, that doesn’t stop me from experiencing a reaction to your brave sharing.
It’s funny, so many people wonder what their baby(ies) will look like. And I do, too. At first, I had an egg sac. Gee, hello, errr, beautiful black blob of baby! And then I actually got to see arms and legs and a too-slow heartbeat. Insert unspeakable emotions of your choice.
What came along at some point in this miserable experience of ttc was something I hadn’t thought would come so early. Wondering what my child(ren)’s voice would sound like. I can get a fair sense of hoping for his father’s blondish hair. And maybe a daughter would have my hands. But what would that voice be like? The voice that would carry all the loving, demanding, irrational (again from his father’s side), passionate, articulate thoughts and emotions out into the world.
And so while it’s still all make-believe to me, I think I’d want to try to hear my child’s voice. That voice that is singly their’s, telling me what I (and you) already know deep down inside.
I’m okay, momma. I’ll be right here, and I know you’ll be back. I love you, momma. Always, momma, always.
I went through an “adjustment” period when my two sons started daycare, we all do. It’s tough to let go and preschool is the another step of multiple “lettings go”, the first time they walk to school alone, meet their friends for a movie at the mall, it’s a Mitzvah. My sons are 13 and 10 years old and still like to hang out with mom and dad, yet are very self sufficient. We can’t settle their playground spats or take their spelling quizzes and to not let go is a form of hobbling your child. It might send the message, hey, despite all my teachings, kids, I don’t think you learned anything. My sister is a helicopter parent, I understand. You asked for A$$vice, well, you got it, girlfriend! I’m giving you ((Hugs)), tissues, and the reassurance it gets easier. I have a different perspective than most, I work with medically fragile children whose parents want nothing more than to leave them alone at preschool for a few hours to share in a normal childhood joy, playing with ones’ peers.
I cried when I first left the babies at nursery. Cried and cried. To this day I still count the hours to when I get to go fetch them.
My advice: You need to be that person they race home to, the one they can’t wait to tell their adventures to, the one they can’t wait to share their day with. If you’re there, hiding, waiting for them, you’re not being that person. Open the door and be the one that they fling themselves into at the end of the day while they talk excitedly to each other. You get to be just as overjoyed to hear their stories, completely new to you, as they are to tell you what’s happened in the hours you’ve been apart.
If that’s not good enough advice, if you keep hiding in the library I’m going to instruct people to refer to you as the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, because I’m on a bit of a Ghostbusters kick right now.
I love your blog! I just started my own and if anyone would like to check it out go here… http://myexperiencewithinfertility.blogspot.com/
Here’s a simple suggestion you can try:
Step 1. Bring just 1 paper with you with the realistic local errands listed. Put them in your bag or pocket.
Step 2. After dropping off the kids, Stop in front of the library door.
Step 3. Bring out the paper and read it.
Step 4. Decide NOT TO go in the Library. Decide TO go do the first errand on the list.
See if it works!
i didn’t read every comment, but i was about to write the exact same thing aurelia did. go to the car and write your notes, etc. (you might even catch a glimpse of them on the playground and their happy little faces will make you feel better already.) each day take it a step further.
hope it gets better for you, whatever you decide!
You love your children so much – that’s always been clear in your posts. It’s so hard to move to this next phase of their life were loving them means letting them grow up a little on their own.
Try some of the other tips – making an appointment, leaving and coming back after short times – I think you’ll be able to do it and it will get easier.
Oh, hugs. I am so sorry this is hurting you so much.
my assvice: I just think you need to give yourself permission to stay. You seem to feel like you’re “supposed” to leave the kids without a problem, but you’re not. That might be exactly what is holding you back. (I am never good at doing what I am supposed to do–I like to challenge things apparently) Anyway, I wonder how strong that pull to stay would be if you tell yourself it is okay to feel that way AND stay if you want. (because it is okay you know)
No matter what you do, I hope you know that I am here to support you.
Lots and lots of hugs Mel.
I know the prize is already gone. I was going to bribe you by offering to post a present if you make it to the post office. I know, it’s not exactly straight from the therapists’ mouth, getting you to work through the problem emotionally, etc etc etc, but sometimes that can come later, after you’ve gone to buy stamps because hey – cool present!
Did anyone suggest that? Do you want a present anyway? C’mon, it’s a tough week. I could send the present in such a way that it had to be held at the office for pickup? (Couldn’t I? I have no idea how to arrange that on purpose.)
Bea