I usually call Mom on Sundays to chat about how our respective weeks went. She is retired and living the life of Riley with lots of friends and activities, and the ability to slow down and relax whenever she wants to.
Today is Sunday, so I called her after dinner. Mom sounded relaxed and upbeat in spite of the fact that the city made her prune her corner bushes with a nasty letter, and her accountant screwed up the numbers and informed her this week that she owes $5,000 in back taxes. Wow, what a week.
When it was my turn to relay our week's events, I chirped merrily about my new very part time job at Skinny's Pub. I mentioned that I'm enjoying myself and it's only about 4-5 hours per week. I might even decide to work one evening a week when the school year begins, which will be just enough. Most of all, the money is nice to have in my pocket.
Silence on the other end of the phone. "I see. Hmmmm, I see," she replied. Skepticism, surprise maybe, doubt that my choice to work more is a good idea. I don't know. What I gathered was that she is worried for me. She thinks I'm overworked as a single mother as it is. This probably isn't good news to her, but she's trying to hide her concern.
I guess she has a point, but these kinds of conversations with Mom can become uncomfortable quickly. They occasionally lead up to her inevitable question, "Do you need me to send you money?"
No, I don't need her to send me any unearned money. I'm not in dire straits. That's not what this is about. It's about being self sufficient, of righting my own wrongs of racking up too much debt, of not learning my financial lessons earlier in life. I'm not looking for pity, sympathy, or a hand out. At all. But a little praise and moral support would be nice.
I tried to reassure her that all is well, that I'm only handling what I can manage, and that it's only a temporary arrangement. The hours are short, the money is helpful, and the kids are fine. I'm fine, we're fine. It's all good.
I realized upon hanging up the phone that my diligence in writing this journal, keeping myself accountable in front of other readers, and planning my future better are part of my M.O. I think I just need to prove something to myself. I need to come out of the other end with the satisfaction that I didn't stay in a dysfunctional, debt ridden marriage, but rather made some positive changes on behalf of the welfare of me and my family. I want Mom, Dad, brothers and their families, friends, and my own kids to see me as the gal that took the reins and didn't give up. I want to be "the resilient one". That's all.
My kids got up from the dinner table tonight as they always do....full and unable to eat another bite. We had more than enough good food on the table tonight, and every night. That makes a mother like me feel happy. I did good. I will continue to do well.
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