It’s only been a couple of weeks of class and in order to get everything done daily I hold the mental image of juggling glass balls – if I slow down or relax at all I’ll drop one and it will shatter.

It might sound awful, but it works. I’ve been back a year and have yet to fall off the deans list. I’ll be damned if I start now.

“Supermom” seems a fitting title some days for me and my nontraditional fellows. We juggle classes, family and financial burdens that some of our traditional age classmates don’t have to deal with yet.
Our ‘arch enemy,’ the devious TUA — The Unforgiving Administration.

The TUA reared its ugly head over the summer when the new student employment rules came online – and rumors floated through the halls that one or more of the ‘powers-that-be” that regulate student employment actually said that students should make minimum wage only.
The new rules say that students, nontraditional or traditional, can work no more than 20 hours per week on campus, can only work at two positions because it would be too tough to make sure the 20 hour rule is followed, and can only make a maximum of $8 per hour. (Most students will make much less, depending on the department and the job.)

Minimum wage only eh…I really, really wanted to verbally beat whoever said that…
Just about a fourth of the student body at Western are nontraditional students, several are back at school full time and have to work to supplement their spouse’s salary. It’s not much. In essence we are one income families – as our part time paychecks go to cover gas and not much else.
In my case, because my husband works a rotating schedule and we don’t have consistent evening childcare — I’m stuck working on campus. I have no other choice. However, I wish the TUA would allow me to make my own decision about how many hours I can work.

It seemed as if it views tuition paying students as parasites, leeching extra money from the university coffers for performing food service or clerical jobs. So even though our tuition went up, our ability to get a larger paycheck went down.

Here’s a call to arms from Supermom…
Students! If you have the time, look off campus for work. Leave the offices on campus that depends on student workers for their menial tasks, empty.

A symbiotic relationship is what should be happening between the student body and the TUA.

Remind them of that….

Hang on, that was me too. I graduated from Northwest Missouri State — by the skin of my teeth.

What’s changed is that there are more nontraditionals than I ever recall there being before…I wasn’t alone. My whole perception of being back changed when I stumbled into the nontraditional lounge on campus. I’d been tense and self conscious going through classes among people who were in kindergarten when I was a senior in high school.

But I wasn’t alone.
It made all the difference in the world.

But I did make them a promise…when I give them a writing prompt, I’ll do it as well on this site. So if any of you are watching, I’ll head each entry with WORKSHOP so you know what’s what…as this has more than just my workshop stuff on it.

….read on…

I research an ancestor who grew up in an insane asylum
and I wonder if my daughter isn’t in the same situation

except in our asylum the crazy people are those in power
who play games
with our lives
and don’t give a damn how tough high gas prices make things
and how tough it is to find a job
and how tough it is to keep from keeling over in shock…only being held up by a pair of three-year-old blue eyes looking to you for her sanity.

In the asylum we rob Peter to pay Paul and keep ahead of the monthly bills. We make note of the fact that our help with her child care costs will likely disappear in a year — and have no idea what we’ll do at that point.
We try not to bite each other’s heads off, and remember why we married. And revel in the mornings where she crawls in bed with us to have some cuddle time with mommy and daddy.

In this asylum we try not to tear up at the long list of things that must be done — instead imagining a line of bowling pins…
set em up, knock em down.

Bridget is not only learning life from me, but I’m realizing that she’ll learn her body image from me as well. I am SO not the best of teachers as far as that goes. I’m not happy with the bod, like many women.
Here’s the scene, I was putting on a shirt that wasn’t as loose as I liked and commenting out load that it was too small. I was just about to use the F– word when Bruce pointed to Bridget — who was pulling at her shirt the same way I was.
“My shirt too small too mommy,” she said.

It brought back an evening out with friends at a restaurant where I overheard a thin, 10-year-old girl talking to a friend about a diet and how she was just too fat. I’d been disturbed that it was an issue at her age and I’d wanted to yell at the mom for allowing it to happen.

I think I came one step away from being that mom.

I know it’s only one pair of eyes. But when those eyes are looking to you for everything, self image, body image, life, the universe and everything — it’s exausting.

Started the independant study on Argumentation and Debate….my lord I’m in trouble. The only person I know who can answer any of my questions comes with a LOT of excess emotional baggage that I likely couldn’t avoid if I made contact. So I’m struggling through…scared out of my mind. This is the one teacher who’s seriously made me work for my grade.

Damn the pounding….

The high level English Lit class I’m in this summer started today. Yours truly was having massive trouble not dozing off. Between the weekends’ activities and all, I wasn’t able to sleep much last night. So the 5 am wake up, to get she and I both ready and out of the house, was more than a little trouble at 8am when the blinks of my eyes got longer and longer.

And she’s still wandering around the house singsonging “Bugger” to the tune of SpongeBob Squarepants.

Ah motherhood…..