Summer, a magical time when the sun stays out past 8 p.m., and you convince yourself you're going to “rest and recharge,” even though that really means forgetting what day it is and surviving on iced coffee and denial.
But now? School has started back for myself and my daughter and I’ve made the brilliant or maybe not so brilliant decision to take two master’s classes at once. That’s right. Two. As in double the reading, double the deadlines, and absolutely none of the chill that the fall will bring.
Two Classes, One Brain Cell…maybe
Here’s the weekly juggling act I’ve got going on:
- Class #1: Requires essays, group projects, and reading dense academic texts that may or may not be written in another language disguised as English.
- Class #2: Basically the same. Just... with more slides and fewer brain cells left to process them.
And while I’m trying to analyze theories and synthesize information, I’m also:
- Teaching my daughter to drive — because nothing says "calm learning environment" like gripping the passenger door handle for dear life while shouting “BRAKE! BRAAAAAKE!” My favorite is when we get home, she looks at me and says “but did you die” and walks in the house. I swear she has shaved years off of my life.
- Playing Sunday softball — where I try to remember what it feels like to relax and hang out with other Baller Moms without mentally drafting my next assignment.
- Submitting homework by 11:59 p.m. on Sundays, which is conveniently right after the softball games and inconveniently right before I have a breakdown because I forgot to do the peer responses.
While everyone else is picking apples, visiting pumpkin patches, and living their best lives, I’m will be trying to decide whether I have time to shower or just mist myself with pumpkin spice air freshener and hope for the best.
But Honestly...
As much as I joke (and cry, and stare blankly at my screen), there’s something rewarding about it all. The chaos means I’m growing, pushing myself, and modeling what hard work looks like—for my daughter, my classmates, and sometimes the people at the coffee shop who watch me write a paper in my softball jersey.
So here’s to the madness: to the car rides, the coffee-fueled weekends, and the deadlines I totally didn’t forget about until 10 minutes ago. Catch me in December—hopefully still standing, most likely over caffeinated, and maybe even caught up on my reading (but we all know the answer to that).
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