My meltdown was impressive — my 13-year old could have learned a few tricks from it. On Thursday I go back to work — at the college, I mean. (I’m supposed to be working now, my real work, which is writing.) I can’t bear the thought of the start of a new quarter teaching full-time: 26 composition students, 25 literature students, 16 (so far) creative nonfiction students. I called my mom and told her she should pay me to stay home this fall. (She laughed.) I called a friend and told her I was abandoning the novel rewrite. I emailed friends (several) and whined, whined, whined…
The only advice that ever worked for me when my daughters threw tantrums was to lie down on the floor with them. To be fully there in all the maelstrom and torment. I didn’t have to cry and kick my feet–in fact, throwing my own tantrum was counter-productive. I just had to be there. I had to let her know that she was fully heard.
So I’m trying to be there for me.
I know, I know. Bethany! It’s not that bad! It’s not that many students! They will be wonderful students! You’ll be talking about books and writing! What a great job!