Personal growth while pursuing my goals

I finished my first semester back in college taking a full load of classes-- five classes, actually. Last spring, I was nervous signing up for that class load. We were getting ready to make a cross country move. My husband was deployed. We were in the process of building our house at our new duty station. It felt like it would end being a lot of work transitioning our children and settling into our new home. I wasn't sure how that would workload would translate onto my schedule. Would I be able to support all of the needs of my family as well as support a full load in college?

As a sort of compromise, I signed up for online classes. While I knew we would want childcare for our two toddlers, we would be able to take a flexible approach to how that childcare would look. We were able to find a less expensive preschool for them, giving our four-year old four full days at preschool and our two-year old two half days at preschool. Any extra hours I needed for our two-year old could be given at our gym, which had WiFi and included two hours of childcare each day. It felt like we were able to find a childcare option that accommodated our schedule but also was more in line with our budget, as compared to tuition for two toddlers in daycare full time.

I had doubts about a full load leading up to the semester and strongly considered dropping one or two classes for my first semester back. I felt like it would end up being a lot for me. I kept thinking that-- can I handle acclimating five kids to new schools? Can I handle living in an AirBnB and then a hotel while we wait for our house to be built? Can I handle moving into a new home and unpacking a new home? Can I handle my homework load with all those moving parts? That was when it dawned on me that somehow all those responsibilities became mine. Not through any words or actions of my husband, but maybe because the universe said it is My Job As The Mother. 

My husband was also going to school this past semester, although he is in a master's program while I am finishing my bachelor's degree. He did not have to work; his only job was going to school, just like mine. Yet, when anyone asked us about going to college, they congratulated him and asked me what I was doing for childcare. They would tell him what a great school he was attending and what an excellent opportunity he had, while raising their eyebrows and widening their eyes to me-- "How will you handle all that?" No one asked him if he should drop a class. No one insinuated it would be a big change for our kids going into childcare while he pursued his degree. No one suggested he should slow his pace slightly. They only did that to me.

There also have been questions as to why I'm getting my degree. "What do you actually want to do with it?" As though the ship has sailed and I am too late to try and board. My years as a stay-at-home parent on their minds, though I can only guess what they are implying. Do they think I am too old? Do they think I am not valuable? Do they think I belong continuing to serve my family in the home? Do they think as a military spouse I won't be able to achieve my dreams? Do they think I'm letting my kids down by putting my goals first? Or do they think I am quitter since I turned thirty without getting my degree, that maybe I don't have it in me to follow through with a task this big?

The implications of this kind of questioning get in my head and make me doubt myself. I don't want my kids to have a hard time. I don't want to be selfish. I don't know if I can achieve all of my dreams. I don't know how hard it will be. It is hard not to let the questions swirl in my brain until I think, "Why isn't anyone asking my husband why he is getting his degree? How his family feels when he puts his career first? How he will support a work/life balance? Why am I walking into this situation with the expectation that I will not drop any of my responsibilities and that I will achieve the work/life balance immediately, without burdening my family?" Needless to say, I kept my class load.

I found during the semester that I had guilt when my school became a bigger priority than home for me. I felt bad when dinner didn't happen until seven pm. I felt bad when I forgot to fill out forms or when I didn't have time to go on field trips. I felt bad when I missed personal obligations, when I wasn't as available to my friends and family. I felt they were all disappointed in how I was selfishly spending my time, making my goals my priority, regardless of how other people may have wanted me to spend my time. It felt like I was constantly disappointing someone. I disappointed my kids for always saying, "I have to do homework." I disappointed my friends for being too busy to hang out and we rarely saw each other. I disappointed my spouse when I didn't hold up my end of the responsibilities. I disappointed myself that I was working so hard and achieving so little. I felt stretched. My house was a mess. My dinners were unhealthy. I wasn't hitting the gym. I always felt like I was rushing against the clock to get my homework done on time.

On top of that, my spouse was getting his master's degree and under an even more intense load of homework and deadlines. It felt like we were constantly battling each other over who would be getting the kids to bed. Whose turn it was to drive the school pick ups. Who would take care of the two-year old. It started slowly, but I started feeling like I needed to "make up" the time I took from him. If I spent half a day locked in the bedroom doing homework, leaving him to take care of the responsibilities, I wanted to give him the same equal time as soon as possible-- pay off my time debt. I wanted to show that I was equal and willing to carry my weight around the house, so I would spend the child-free hours I had cleaning, grocery shopping, and prepping dinner, only to feel extremely overwhelmed and in a time crunch later when all the children were home and I was struggling to get assignments done.

It started to feel extremely unfair. Why did my spouse not feel the need to apologize to me when he didn't get any vacuuming done? Why did he use all his child-free hours for his homework-- his things, his priorities? Why did I feel that was fine? Why did I feel it was acceptable for him to set his own priorities and that I needed to set my priorities and the priorities of our household and our children? I didn't even realize I was doing that and I couldn't put my finger on why it felt normal to divide our loads in this way.

The concept of invisible work began to take root. I felt that the work I was putting upon myself was the invisible work of the household. I was the one who kept the living room tidied, the kitchen clean, the dining table unburied and ready for the next project or meal. I was the one moving laundry and cleaning the bathrooms. I was the one organizing where everything went in our AirBnb and at our hotel. I was the one figuring out what we would eat at mealtimes and where our groceries were coming from. I was the one adjusting my homework schedule around our family schedule. I was the one blocking out time for my spouse to get his homework done and making my schedule work around that level of support. Why though? Why was I doing all of this? Why did I take this on? Why did I feel this was normal and acceptable? And, more so, why wasn't my spouse doing this for me?

The problem with invisible work is that it isn't seen. These are tasks that are only noticed when they aren't done. These jobs are important in that they help a household run smoothly but they are often menial and as such can be undervalued. Over the course of the semester, through much communication and teamwork, my spouse and I were able to find a better balance of this invisible work. We were able to actually divide the household labor and I made the move to actually prioritize my goals. I, of course, was mindful of our household calendar, but I also put myself on the calendar without prioritizing everyone else first.

Dividing the invisible work was not an easy task or a smooth transition. At first it felt like that to fully let go of the mental load of the invisible work was to entirely separate myself from it and allow the tasks to be accomplished or not-- let the pieces fall where they may. This was extremely frustrating and left me feeling more angry than just doing the jobs myself. I didn't want the role of the taskmaster. I didn't want to pester or nag my spouse. I wanted the jobs to just be done and for him to take ownership of them.

Prat of that process was figuring out exactly what jobs should be done. What did he feel was important? What did I feel was important? What were some of the invisible jobs that he didn't know about (or I didn't know about)? Were we able to have an open conversation about this without accusing each other of work we felt the other should be doing? Or, perhaps, disappointment we felt in the division of labor? Our feelings of being overwhelmed or alone in the tasks?

Dividing that invisible work was, without a doubt, the biggest feat accomplished this semester. There is a noticeable difference between the amount of invisible work I was doing at the end of the semester compared to the invisible work I was doing at the start of the semester. The mental load of that invisible work is nearly gone and I do feel that I have an equal partner in our household responsibilities. I don't have the desire to make up time that I take from our family calendar and I don't feel the need to prove to my spouse or my family that my goals aren't taking away from the support I offer them. Instead of me pouring myself into them, I feel that it is much more equal in that I support them as much as they support me.

I cannot say the guilt has completely gone away. I feel like the guilt arises from feeling like there aren't enough hours in the day and that, sometimes, I drop the ball. I felt bad when we missed Parent Day at school. I felt bad when I forgot I had signed up to volunteer in my kid's classroom. I felt bad when I haven't seen my friends for a couple weeks and we aren't able to schedule time except for weeks out. I think the guilt stems from being a busy adult trying to keep up with my obligations and responsibilities and having to accept that I cannot do it all. I don't like feeling that I've let people down, like with my friends, or that I've left people in a bind, like with my son's teacher. I want to own the tasks I take on and complete them to the best of my abilities. It is disappointing when I discover something slipped my mind.

For instance, the other night, I forgot I had homework. I wasn't busy. I didn't have anything else going on. I have no idea what I looked at in my planner when I decided I didn't have homework, but I spent the evening painting my nails, reading blogs, and catching up on recreational reading. It wasn't until the next morning that I realized I hadn't done several hours of homework that was due that day. I spent the day doing catch up, canceling all my other plans. I know that I am only human, but it was a disappointing mistake.

The feeling I had when I finished this semester was unexpected. I have already taken a couple classes since I decided to go back to school and, at the end of each semester, I felt that I was working towards my goals. I was proud of myself, but it felt like a slow and steady approach. When I finished this semester with a 4.0, I felt like my goals were closer. I felt like I had challenged myself with a full class load and rose to the occasion. It felt like my goals weren't so far away and unreachable, but concrete things I was actively working towards. It humbled me to think about my trepidation before the semester started and how much I had changed and grown over the course of the semester.

As for our children, they have done well this semester. It has been a change of pace for our whole family. Our four-year old does after care at his preschool. Our two-year old is starting at a daycare two full days a week for the spring semester alongside her two half days at preschool, as I now also have a paid internship. Next year, for the fall 2019 semester, she will go to daycare full time and our four oldest children will be in elementary school. The burden of caring for all the children and getting them where they need to be has been shared between me and my spouse. The evenings and bedtime routines have been shared. It hasn't been one person tasking the other; we have ownership over these jobs and actively work to make sure our spouse isn't overwhelmed. The entire approach has felt different than how we went into the fall semester. The changes have made home life less stressful and chaotic and more like we are a team and can focus on the areas we do enjoy.

Heading into the spring semester with another full class load and a paid internship, I have heard the comments again about how I will manage the house, where our kids will be, how I feel about daycare, how supportive my husband must be for me to do this, and what exactly I plan on doing with this degree. After getting through last semester successfully with a 4.0 and more communication with my spouse resulting in real support on both of our parts, I know not to internalize the comments or to let them cast doubt on my goals or drive. I know not to expect perfection. I know to keep an open dialogue with my spouse. I know that we will make mistakes and we will have to adapt and grow. I know that I can be an asset to my family even while making myself a priority. Most importantly, I've learned that it isn't selfish to pursue my goals. I have learned that there are times that I do need to be selfish with my time and that is okay-- even necessary.

It was scary heading into last semester. As I get ready to dive into the spring semester, I feel confident and excited about the challenges ahead. That difference alone shows me the growth I've had over this semester.

Have you faced a challenge and overcome it? How have you pursued your own personal or professional goals? Do you struggle to make yourself a priority and what do you do to counterbalance that?