Friday, March 15, 2013

The light at the end of the tunnel

Hi.

I haven't been here for a really long time. I'm not even going to look to see how long; there's no point.

The job has been a complete roller coaster. I am exhausted. The job on its own is challenging, frustrating, some days too much than I can take, and then adding in driving an hour each way to work, the effect my being gone so much has effected Fry, my general insecurities, my penchant for caring too much and laying awake in the middle of the night stressing about work... it's been a bad time. Bad enough that we decided that, in the case that Stéphane didn't get his transfer, I would quit, because the stress on our family is just. too. much.

Poor Fry. He's four now, in his second year of pre-school, and acting out all the time. It took us a little while to realize that he was acting out because I was suddenly gone from his life. I was always the one that brought him to school, picked him up for lunch, brought him back, and got him at the end of the day, most of the time. Now I barely see him in the morning (sometimes he's still asleep when I leave!) and we only have a couple of hours together when I get home, including making dinner and getting him to bed.

We knew this was going to be hard, but in my mind it would be a temporary sacrifice for making a better life for our family - moving to a bigger town, both of us making decent salaries so that we can travel, save for future projects, giving Fry bigger and better opportunities for his future as well. But this morning was hard - so hard. I'm home sick, his teacher has been out for two weeks (another stable adult who has been a super calming and focusing influence in his life), and Stéphane had to take him to school kicking and screaming. It completely broke my heart and I'm crying just thinking about it.

We got the good news this week that Stéphane got his transfer. This weekend he'll ask for the schools where he would like to be placed (he'll be targeting the Greater Reims area) and in June we'll know where to hunt down an apartment. In the meantime we need to start figuring out what we're going to do with this apartment and preparing to move. And I need to figure out a way to explain to my darling boy that all this upheaval and change will be good for us, that Mommy being gone all the time is temporary, that soon we'll be the close-knit family we've always been.

In four/five more months, we'll get our lives back. Summer can't come fast enough. 

8 comments:

La Rêveuse said...

Oh, Sweetie. I'm so sorry you're in this sucky situation. I hope this all works out for you. Glad you know when things are just not OK and can step away. (((((Vivi))))))

Vivi said...

Thanks dear. xoxo I keep telling myself that after such n such everything will be better, but the goal posts keep changing. We'll get there...

Anonymous said...

***BIG HUG*** It'll get better from here, girlie! Just hang in there! The fact that Stephane has received the transfer is a good indication that the universe has a plan of action. All will be well! I decree it! So let it be written. So let it be done. ~Dana

Lisa, a.k.a. The Bold Soul said...

If it helps alleviate at least some of the anxiety about how all the change might be affecting Fry in the long term, I just wanted to share that when I first met G and his kids, the Little Guy was the one who was the most drastically impacted by all the change. He was 6. His parents, who had had a rocky relationship, had split up. His mother (the reason it was rocky) had moved into an apartment across the street, so the boy was changing houses every 2 or 3 days. Then I came along, and he liked me, but I was yet another "change" in his life (fortunately one that proved to be a good, stabilizing influence). Then after 2 years, G and his ex agreed to sell the house, so WE moved and the boy had another "new" place to live with us. Then his mother moved again, buying an apt with her share of the house sale. A lot of change, and even though it was all for the best, even GOOD change can cause stress. For the most part the boy handled it well and on those occasions where he was unhappy about it, G just continued to talk calmly to him and explain that change happens in our lives, and that the one thing that would NEVER change was how much he was loved by all three of his parents.

Last year, we moved AGAIN so as to get the boy into the right collège and lycée. And you know what? He handled this latest transition -- which included him going to a new school where he knew NO ONE -- like a champ. We don't intend to make a habit out of uprooting his life but there are reasons why we've had to move, and it probably won't be the last time (although the next time he'll be a lot older, well into his teens, and it won't matter as much to him then). What we now observe is that he has learned some important, if difficult, lessons and now he is so much less afraid of change than he used to be. He is learning how to go more with the flow, and we provide enough structure elsewhere in his life that he feels secure. (Even though his mother is perhaps the weak link in all this, but she does love her child.)

What I guess I'm trying to say is, life is all about change and making the decisions that you feel are best at the time. Fry may be having a hard time with it right now, but I am certain you will help him cope and learn how to roll with it over time, and in the end it will give him some life skills he might not have had the chance to develop otherwise. With two parents who love him so much, he really can't go wrong. Don't beat yourselves up too much. You're doing your best, and it's enough.

Sophie said...

Sorry to hear the daily grind is getting you down. The summer will soon come dont worry! : )

Stella said...

Hang in there, darls. It'll all come good in the end. x

William said...

Bon Courage! I hope everything works out for you guys!

Jadie said...

Ack, so tough on you! Hard to believe when you're embroiled in this that all will resolve as time goes on..you will find new ways, adjust, and Fry will be fine. Hang in there, girl