I told myself that once my children were in school, I would concentrate on a career. I am aware now that I made my youngest, learning disabled child the excuse for my reluctance to do so. In truth, at some subconscious level, I was probably grateful for the limits he placed on me. I now believe in a mental thermostat which sets a comfort level for the choices we make. Even the turmoil that raged inside, which I believed would not have been raging had my son s demands on me been less great, was seductive.
Turmoil can be a creative place.
I wrote poetry. I taught with passion. And oh, that saving sense of the ridiculous. I was going to throw up with the baby s bottle wedged under my armpit. I remember leaning my throbbing head against the wall For this I went to college.