Better Late Than Never

One week ago today, I was sitting at home in a near panic and close to tears. Why? Because of a decision I made on the fly last April after a routine phone call with Bill, who was at work. I don't remember what we talked about, not even a little. I just remember getting off the phone and thinking I should apply to the University of Utah and just go back to school. It was with that much thought that I got online, figured out how to apply, how to order my transcripts be sent to the U and paid my admission fee. That was it. I didn't even call Bill to tell him I had applied and decided to go back. I didn't tell anyone other than Bill for months. I met with my advisor and picked out my classes and still didn't tell anyone. Why? That would make it too real. But sitting at home the night before my classes started and it felt incredibly "real". And the question again was "WHY!?" Why was I doing this again at the age of 38? Why didn't I put more thought into it? Why did I think I could balance family and school? Why did I want to give up the parts of my cushy life I love most-namely the ability to do whatever I want, whenever I want?

I don't know. I guess it has to do with keeping promises, setting an example and a slight case of masochism.

The first day of classes Bill drove me up to campus and picked me up to take the whole "stress" of finding a parking spot. I think one more minor stressor and I would have lost it. Ok, even without the minor stressor I lost it a few times over the course of the day. Any time I thought about it, tears fell, questioning happened and the "reality" of what I had done back in April, with that spur of the moment decision. Day two, the intermittent tears dried up. I spent the entire day on campus, trying to read the first of many, many assigned articles. It took me 2 hours. I felt defeated. The major break down arrived at the end of the long day on campus. Big alligator tears and sobbing on Bill's shoulder before pulling myself together and just hitting the books. The rest of the week, the tears abated and I got the reading under control. I turned in my first assignments and got good scores and mapped out my plan of attack for each week of the semester and I am feeling like this is "do-able".

The best part of my going back so far is what I was worried would be the worst- the effect on the boys. I actually have a chance to miss them. We have had great conversations about what college life is like and about where they would want to go and what they might like to study. Romney has taken great pleasure in helping me design a collage magazine cover for an assignment about the Beatles. William has taken pride in lending me his Marvel Comics expertise with a Race, Equality, Gender and Class paper I wrote about different "groups found in media". Not only do they enjoy helping but from these assignments, think college looks like so much fun. (Of course, they missed out on the 12+ academic articles I had to read this week, those not as much fun.)