My Guilt Trip

I’ve been feeling rather guilty lately.  I’m not sure if I can chalk it up to post-holiday blahness or actual mommy-duty neglect, but the feeling is present, ominous and kicking my ass.  

The return to school for both kids was rough.  N still cried every morning and G’s gotten in on the act, becoming clingier and clingier.  After school, N is fine but G has seemed sad.  I’m not sure if it’s a lot of the kids, but he’s definitely having some issues with a few.  Just the little comments kids make, mostly.  But he’s a sensitive kid and he takes these things to heart.  I think he’s also struggling with his writing issues.  I need to encourage him, to work with him but any help is declined immediately.   Well, I suppose that’s where the OT needs to step in.

And thus arises another source on Mommy guilt.  G needs OT- Mommy hasn’t provided it.  YET.  We just switched insurances and I need to figure out which OT’s are covered and which we be a good fit.  That’s my goal this week.   I feel as though I should have been on this earlier- I mean, any “good” mommy would have run right out and got the ball rolling as soon as OT was suggested.  But this insurance change was coming up, as were the holidays and I just wanted a break.  Just to pretend things were “normal”, easy for just a week or two.  Of course that week or two didn’t go smoothly; hellish might be a good word for certain moments.  But I got those couple of weeks off with no appointments to go to or worry about scheduling.

Once the OT is set, time to start calling about that pesky sleep study that’s been suggested.  How exactly do you do a sleep study on a 4 year old?  Oh- and allergy testing.  Something, anything to explain the horrible nights of sleep and constantly blackened eyes.  Because wouldn’t it be lovely if all of this- the behaviors, the sensitivities, everything – were just due to crappy sleep?  Hmph.  I wish.

Anyhow, when I drop the kids off in the morning, the guilt rises again, right up in my throat causing tears to well up.  It drops down into my stomach during the rest of the day- sometimes I forget it but mostly it’s there causing this unsettled feeling that I seemingly think can be quelled with mass quantities of chocolate and coffee.  Note:  it can’t.  My thighs, instead, are beneficiaries of my nutritional therapy.  

So what?  Do I quit?  The boss (and the atmosphere he creates) is a horribly challenging.    But stay at home all day?  I tried that before and it drove me batty.   And the job comes with this new, lovely health insurance that I hear so many good things about.  Hub’s options are fine, but my option (yep, just one!) is one of the best in our state. 

The kids need the socialization but I hate seeing the sadness every day before and after school.  I hate holding my breath as a walk in the door looking to see if we have a “see teacher” note on the cubby.  I hate worrying all day long…

And I hate making decisions.