College Decision Stress

It certainly doesn't surprise me that Murphy would make this blog more difficult for me. It never fails that when I sit down I am suddenly super distracted or tired or just very unfunny. I'm witty, creative and hilarious when I'm thinking about blog stuff in the car, at the office, when I'm falling asleep but rarely when I sit down and attempt to entertain the masses (ok, the tens of people) who have somehow found my blog.

The thing that has become the biggest distraction and stress in my life is the college decision factor. There are so many things to take into account. There are the logical factors tuition, program, cost of living, etc. Then there are the more emotional issues. How much support do I really need or want with Professor's issues? What sort of experience do I want out of the next two or three years of my life?

I'm an emotional being to my core. I was recently told that it must be my most endearing quality and I hope that's true. It is also my biggest personal challenge. Not every decision can be made on instinct. Things like finances and parenthood force you to step outside of who you are and what you want. If I were not a parent my choice would be easy. I would take the risk. I would runaway and live a new and exciting life in a foreign city. I would speak bad French and maybe finally learn to enjoy wine.

The trouble is, I am a parent. I love my son and only want the best for him. That means putting the reins on my instincts and being logical for a moment. Luckily, in addition to being an emotional person I am also a researcher. I love information. So, I collect data. I make lists, award points and hope that it matches up with what my heart wants. All too often they don't match up and then I take that dream, fold it up and put it on a mental shelf, a pile of could-have-beens.

I'm not the first or last parent who has given up something for their child. The difference is I'm tired of regret and missed opportunities. Professor enriches my life, pulls me through the hard days I would rather spend in bed and continually short changing myself isn't going to make either one of us happy. I don't want him to grow up watching me endure. The two of us have endured enough. I want him to grow up watching me succeed. I want him to see me take the rotten hand life has dealt me and turn it into an opportunity. I don't really know what that means at this point but I do know that I'm going to make a change.