This Mama’s Dharma

It feels so good to have made a decision and to have it over with.  The part I hate is agonizing.  Writing the pro and con-list.  Imagining worst and best-case scenarios.  Feeling like there’s a “right” and a “wrong” decision and getting all nuts about that.

I faced a situation like this recently with the whole Preschool Decision.  I feel like an ass even writing those words.  I mean, yeah, my child’s education is important, but he’s two years and eight months old.  The dude wants to be with me all the time.  No matter what school I put him in, he’s going to be pissed.  I know him.  He’s going to wail like a banshee every time I leave, for days or maybe weeks.  It’s going to suck and I’m going to feel sad and guilty and secretly relieved and then feel bad for feeling secretly relieved because I love my son more than anything, ANYTHING in this universe but I am tired, and I need a break, and I need to work and finally be an adult and make some money.  Stay at home mom life has been awesome and challenging and I wouldn’t trade a day of it, but it is time for the little man to go to school for a while so I can get my act together.

I got Sami into this kickass preschool.  It is so cool.  I think because I declared that he was half-Arab and half-Jew.  Schools dig that kind of diversity.  It is so hard to get a spot at this school.  All of my friends who applied got rejected.  Then…while I was gone this summer I found out that Sami got into this free public charter school that he was 35th on the waiting list for.  Which is also a perfectly great place and I think Sami would have been totally happy there.  And, did I mention, it was free?!  You don’t even want to know how much School A costs, even with the partial scholarship they gave me because I’m po’. 

So I spent about two days obsessing over this situation.  I didn’t have much time to make the decision because school starts next week.  I called everyone I know and everyone assured me that I would make the right decision.  I wasn’t so sure.  I wanted to talk to his dad so bad, so bad.  I used to love the way he would make these authoritative decisions.  Now, I’m an anti-authoritarian person, but I’m also an Agonizer and that’s pretty torturous so I liked how his decisiveness balanced me out.  But, the glitch was that he was traveling to his homeland when I had to make said decision. 

I decided to just try:  I called his work and asked them to call him in his homeland and tell him to call me.  I emphasized that it was not an emergency, just an important decision that affected him.  Of course he calls and the first thing he asks is “What is the emergency?”

I explained the deal to him and he was so cool.  You’d think he didn’t hate me enough to divorce me.  He asked me which school I liked better, and I said School A (which is true), but I didn’t know if I could even afford my half of School A (we are splitting the tuition as per our divorce).  He told me not to worry and if I was ever short he would take care of it.

“A keed?  A keed A keed?”  I asked him, thrice in Arabic.

Are you sure?

“Yeah.”

That was so excellent of him.  It makes me feel like he still really loves our child.

And that was the end of our conversation.  My decision-making agony was over.  No more drowning in a sea of pros and cons.  So Sami is all set for school next week.  I hit Value Village hardcore and scored him an awesome recycled back to school wardrobe.  The finds include a used Tony Hawk skater t-shirt and a totally vintage Star Wars T-Shirt with Darth Vader on the front.  Yeah!  I love dressing my little guy like the badass he is. 

I signed up for co-op days and it will be really important for me to be able to be active in Sami’s school.  Even though I am burned out, as long as I am a consultant with a flexible schedule, I should take advantage and have some fun reading books to the kids in his class or doing some kind of wacky version of yoga with them.  Maybe I’ll do a lesson on the Pyramids and Egypt?  How fun would that be?

You know, as my teacher (who doesn’t call herself a teacher because she isn’t done with her training) recommended I have finally been placing my ass on the cushion for reals.  It’s not for long periods of time, but I do it every morning.  I sit there and count my breath while Sami rambles around in his room playing with his gazillion cars and trucks.  I sit for as long as he will let me, and then when he comes to get me my meditation is over. 

I don’t feel any different, just as neurotic and wacked as ever.  But that’s ok.  If I went to the gym and lifted weights for a few minutes each day for a week, I wouldn’t expect to have muscles like Arnold Schwartzenegger either.

What I do know is this: everything works out.  It may not always work out the way we want it to, but it works out.  What I keep trying to practice is to find some equanimity, just a drop of equanimity, in the midst of the chaos.  In this case, conditions support my satisfaction and so I am satisfied.  Sami is going to school and his dad is going to help me pay for it.  My heart feels all soft and gushy towards his dad right now.  He is not rich (not that I know of) and he is going to sacrifice to pay for this absurdly expensive school when he totally doesn’t have to.  It’s touching.

Speaking of money:  I have decided I’m going to make Suze Orman my new guru.  Ever since my grandma mentioned her to me years ago, she has annoyed me.  Now I’m going to listen to what this Jewish lesbian mogul has to say.  On a whim I downloaded her book Women and Money, and I’m reading it.  It’s way better than I thought it was going to be.  I’ve just gotten to the part when she talks about the eight qualities of a wealthy woman: