I Made It -- Graduated And Licensed!
I don't know where to start writing about all that's happened since my last post in April. For starters, I'm done with graduate school -- for the moment, at least, and am officially licensed (hallelujah). Events leading up to my graduation on June 1st were intense. Between classes, finishing my internship at the middle school, working, job-seeking and holding things together for the end of our son's first year in public school, the last weeks of the academic year for both my son and I were harder than the last three years combined.
Was It Worth The Sacrifice?
A part of me says, "Absolutely." That's the goal-seeking, self-actualization side of Ezzy that wants to continue to learn and grow. However, the mother-wife in me often contemplates the time I took away from my family, especially my eleven-year-old son, to accomplish this goal. I felt guilty the week of graduation, too, because he'd been selected to participate in a little league competition taking place the same day. You see, this was his first year playing baseball, and considering he'd never played before, never mind pitched, he'd done pretty darn well. My husband had assistant coached and I attended every game. Seeing his developing grit, pride and ganas to play baseball made this mom happy. I didn't want to rob him of his opportunity to compete in something he felt passionate about.
Our Son Was Given A Choice
So we gave him the option. He could either accompany my mother and husband to an over three hour ceremony on a hot day, where he'd most likely be bored, or he could play baseball. I told him the decision was his to make and that as much as I wanted him to see me receive my diploma, I also didn't want him to miss out on something important to him. I was only sorry that I wouldn't get to see him compete. He could let me know.
|Our son pitching.|
A couple of days before my graduation, as he sat across from me in the living room playing Minecraft, while I caught up on one of my favorite shows, I casually asked him if he'd made a decision about what he wanted to do. His response was, "Mom, your graduation is way more important than baseball. It's not, like, you graduate every day. I can play baseball anytime." He said this wearing a look of disbelief -- disbelief that I'd ask him such a question.
The doubts, worries, and insecurities that had plagued me about my decision to pursue graduate school evaporated at that moment.
This mom had done something right