The Time When My Computer Died

Alternatively Titled: I Realized How Having Both Kids in School Was Like My Freshman Year of College

Last week, my computer unexpectedly died.  There I was, cleaning the desktop and trash bin, when I decided to install the latest software update. 

That moment at 12:15am when you realize your meltdown over a broken computer symbolizes something much deeper. #sadmac #allthetears #speedbump #sendchocolate #sendwine

A photo posted by Erin (@erin_mommyonthespot) on May 21, 2015 at 6:11am PDT

There were scary screen twitches. The info at the top of the screen was a dark red color covered with black and gray etches.  It was very Carole Ann and the snowy TV screen from Poltergeist.

Sometime around 12:15am, I gave up googling triage options and made an appointment at the Genius Bar. 

And then I cried. Not silent tears of defeat. No, these tears were more like from toddler tantrum meltdown. I was irrational. I had no words. 

I felt helpless. 

I couldn't write my blog post. I couldn't work on some other essays I wanted to submit. School is almost out for the summer and I barely accomplished anything!

HOW WAS I GOING TO REACH MY GOALS WITH A BROKEN COMPUTER?!

And then that's when it hit me: this was so much more than a broken computer. 

For months, I've had this underlying feeling of discontent.  I always fantasized that when both kids were in school full time, I would rule the world.

 Write!

Work!

Take care of the house!

Exercise!

Have lunch with friends!

Volunteer at school!

I would do all of the things and still feel refreshed when I skipped on down to the bus stop and started the after school/dinner grind.   

At first it was awesome.  I exercised during normal daylight hours instead of waking up at before dawn.

I went out to lunch almost every day. This was glorious!  When I was a junior high teacher, I only had 20 minutes to eat AND go to the bathroom. When I was home with babies and toddlers, it was just enough to go to Target for diapers let alone sit in a restaurant to eat a meal.  Eating food that I did not prepare nor having to clean up felt like I! Had! Arrived!

Turns out that once I worked out and had lunch, I didn't have as much time as I thought to do all of the things.  Honest Mom totally articulates my feelings here.

I spent most of this year rearranging my blocks of time in various orders to try and fit it all in. And I couldn't. I was constantly falling short of my expectations.

This totally reminded me of my freshman year of college. I thought it would be this party and I would be besties with my roommates as we giggled through all-nighters and ate soft serve ice cream in between classes. 

Freshman year was the opposite of that, actually. It was a lot of hard work, and I hated my roommates.  Plus, there was no unlimited soft serve ice cream.  (That along with endless nacho cheese came during sophomore year at a different school – which is a story for another time).

So during this breakdown, I had a breakthrough.  I have a tendency to build something up in my mind and create standards that are impossible to meet. 

Freshman year was just one example.

There was that time I though seventh grade would be like the Sweet Valley Twins series.  (Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.  These were, in fact, the worst years of my life).

Or when my flowery image of natural childbirth courtesy of TLC’s Baby Story did not match up to my unplanned C-section.

And then the time I thought teaching junior high in an upper middle class school would somehow be a mix between Dead Poets Society and Mr. Holland’s Opus.  (It ended up being more like Mean Girls).

This constant feeling of letting myself down because I can’t reach my unattainable expectations chips away at my happiness and self-worth. 

And I don’t want to live like that anymore.

I’m not sure how to stop this since it’s clear that I’ve been doing this my entire life.  I’m a doer; I believe I can *DO* anything.  I just need to manage my expectations.  Upon writing this post, I also think it’s imperative to reexamine how much I let media infiltrate my visions of success.

I didn’t expect to have a broken computer fix my perspective, but I am grateful (and grateful for Neil at the Genius Bar for not only installing my new hard drive, but being very gentle with this fragile soul).

Have you had a recent breakthrough?  How do you deal with reality vs. your expectations?

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So excited that my post about the moment I realized I was no longer a full-time stay-at-home mom was picked up by Huffington Post Parents. I would love it if you clicked on over and let me know what you think!