On Stress and Civility

Posting has been light, but with good reason.  The kids’ school play was this past weekend, wherein E was one of the leads, and J was an adorable little singer & dancer.  I, meanwhile, was on the “production team,” and ended up spending every spare moment - both at work and at home - dealing with various play-related issues.

Because of the play, and the importance of it to E, we had a few other things going on this weekend –The Ex was in town; my parents came for the day; and I, in my infinite wisdom, decided to schedule E’s parent-teacher conference for Friday, thinking that I would be at the school all day anyway.

But uh, Zuska?  Did you forget?  You have a job.  It’s sort of full time.

This whole thing worked to force my firm to live up to their oft-stated promises of being a place where work-life balance can be achieved.  I will find out tomorrow (maybe) if there is any fall out to my proclamation of unavailability.

The balancing of the two universes in my life gave me great stress.  It was very uncomfortable, and tense for me.  I did not have uncomfortable interactions (well, sort of one, but I think it was okay), but I had stress and guilt emanating from my very soul.  I am so glad it’s behind me.  (Although I still have a twinge of bad-feelings due to the fact that I am taking the week after next as a vacation week.)

Once that was all folded up into its work box, I was able to shift my stresses to the personal realm.

And how.

In order of events:

1. I have my first ever negative parent-teacher conference about E;
2. The ex shows up and drops a summer-related bomb on me during the intermission of the kids’ show - and would not let it go despite several repetitions of “i don’t want to talk about this right now.”
3. My parents came for the day, bringing all their accouterments and noise;
4. E woke up on the day of her second show with a scratchy voice, stuffy nose, and persistent cough;
5. My parents and the Ex and his wife, and Beloved all had to wait in line for the play together for an HOUR, standing no more than 3 feet away from each other.  (That’s where the civility came in - thank you to all.)
6. Beloved was assigned (by me) a play-related job that required us to partner in dealing with the actors and the cues and such - it didn’t work out so well, and we had the great pleasure of having an in-public argument.  I think people noticed.
7. I was recognized publicly for my work on the play, with a spotlight on my face.  I hate being in front of a crowd.  Ptooey.
8. My work at the play included being sure that people weren’t sneaking in to “save seats” and keeping the right people in the right places.  SEVERAL people now refer to me as “that bitch over there,” because unless someone was blind (there were two of them) or otherwise impaired, they were waiting in the fucking line with the rest of the universe (including my family and my children).

It is no small feat that my parents and the Ex managed to stay civil.  I was very worried.  Wanna know how worried?  Here is a funny story.

I told my mom on the phone about the Ex’s stunt re: the summer, while she was driving here from Connecticut.  She was lamenting the fact that she had to see him, and was promising me that she would not even acknowledge his existence.  Which I knew could be very awkward, since I knew they both wanted to be first in line (the line that other people felt too special to go into) so they could have good seats in a sold-out show to see their daughter/granddaughter.

While the parents were finishing their drive, I was e-mailing the ex about the fact that he dropped the fact that tickets to a cruise have been bought by his mother for a week that he does not have the kids, and for a week that Beloved and I planned on taking them to Maine for vacation.

Then the parents arrived.  Mom asked me for a book.  I gave her “The Memory Keeper’s Daughter,” which I must say I didn’t like so very much, and found quite UNremarkable, but thought she would like.  She doesn’t like my favorite books.  She finds them “too hard.”  So I’ve learned to give her books that I find to be a bit …. thin.  She read the back of the book outloud.  It’s about a doctor, who because of a blizzard ends up delivering his own children.  One is born a perfectly normal boy, the other a girl with Downs Syndrome (This is all on the back of the book, I’m giving nothing away)  He turns to his nurse (tiny little sole practitioner office, his nurse his only employee) and tells her to take the baby to a home.  His wife is unconscious.  The nurse instead keeps the baby and moves to another city to raise her.

A beat goes by.  Perhaps other topics discussed.  Then:

Mom:  I am mad at him already

Me:  Mom, please don’t talk about this right now (because I just know she’s talking about the Ex, despite the fact that J is curled up on the couch with her).

Mom:  What?  I’m entitled to my feelings.  Maybe I’ll change my mind, but right now, I’m mad.

Me:  MOM!  I am serious, I need you to not discuss this right now.

Mom:  [sticks her tongue out at me]

Me:  I am NOT kidding!  If you don’t stop right now, I am going to need to talk to you in the other room.

Mom:  You are being very unfair.  I’m not saying anything but my own feelings and I’m entitled to my feelings.

Me:  RIGHT now, you need to come with me in to the other room.

[she gets up with me and comes into my bedroom]

Me:  The girls do NOT need to know that anything is going on, I don’t want you to …..   [her perplexed expression causes my brain to click into gear.]  oh.  You were talking about the doctor, weren’t you?

Mom:  What ELSE would I be talking about?

Me:   I am sooooo sorry!  I thought you were talking about the Ex!!

Mom:  NO!!

Nice one, Zuska.

J later said that she knew we must have been talking about different things, because she knew I would never get so mad about her just talking about a BOOK.  At least she knows that about me.  And is not thinking that she has an irrational control-freak bitch of a mother.

Like I said to my mother - I guess we now know what’s at the forefront of MY mind.