As an aspiring physician, I was focused, goal-directed and hard working. There were times that things didn’t go my way but I found hunkering down, working harder, working different, staying focused on my goal was enough to get me where I needed to go. As a resident, I find myself surrounded by hard working, focused people with similar temperaments who like to solve problems and who work really damn hard. The road we are on is an Interstate, speed limit 75, no sleep til Brooklyn.
As a parent, putting my shoulder to the grindstone doesn’t yield quite the same result. Working harder as a parent doesn’t necessarily get you anything. And it isn’t just your work that matters. As my kids get older, I have less and less control over anything. And that is so frustrating for the hard-working, goal-directed Interstate driver in me. This is more like being on a city bus that’s going to the general part of town I want to be in but maybe not exactly where I want to go and makes who knows how many stops! I don’t always know what the right thing to do is, I can simply do my best and LOVE my children through whatever life throws at us.
According to my plans, this second year in Asheville was supposed to be an easier year for our family. The kids were going back to a school they’d been to before, they had made it ALL school year last year without missing the bus, now it would be even easier. This would leave space for me to be more focused on my residency, which would be harder than last year.
Make plans and the Gods laugh, right?
This year has NOT been an easier year for my kids. They’ve both had some problems that many of my friends probably already know about but I’m not putting on the internet. Teens have their own stories that they control and my blog isn’t the place for me to talk about them.
In my residency program there are only 11 other people who can do my job. At home there’s only one. And that job has become a job that cannot be done by the many surrogates and supporters I have. It can’t be outsourced, it can’t be done over the phone or by text. I have to be here, putting in the face time, navigating daily life with them. There are good days, where they are doing well and don’t seem to need me much, but there are bad days too, where a high-touch parenting approach is needed.
The unpredictable nature of good days vs bad days, and the crucialness of my presence on those bad days, makes me a terrible team member for those other 11 people (and the 4 interns who do important work, just not my job yet). They deserve to have a reliable team. I’ve been working very hard to try to be all things to all people but I just can’t do it.
I can’t do it. As much as I want to. As hard as I’ve tried. Some things can’t be accomplished with grit and hard work.
So, for the next little while, I’m going to stop pulling myself apart. I'm going to stop being a resident, for just a little while. I have the most amazingly supportive residency program, they are going to hire me to use my MPH and my clinical skills together to do research. As a single mother, I need my salary and working a 40 hour work week will seem like half a job (it will be about half the hours I was working before!). With flexibility to work from home sometimes and no nights or weekends, I can be the parent I need to be right now.
One of the people I sought advice from this week while figuring all this stuff out gave me some great advice: Think about what difference this choice will make in 5 days, 5 months and 5 years. In just the last few days of being more accessible, I can see my kids unfolding and coping better. In 5 months I hope that their lives will be stable again. Maybe I’ll be able to use this time to take care of myself as well - to exercise, socialize and get some regular therapy. I still have a bit of healing from my divorce and resettlement process that could benefit from some time to reflect. In 5 years, everyone I’m inconveniencing will be finished with residency, so will I. They will have made it through the Larissa-sized hole I’m putting in their lives. It won’t matter as much to me that I didn’t get to graduate with the class I started with, that my residency will be finished in October or November instead of July like nearly all residents everywhere. My little ego bumps and their big scheduling nightmares will be over.
Sometimes the road of life has unexpected curves in it. It still gets you where you are going, but you’re going to have to slow down, take the corners carefully, maybe stop and get gas or a bite to eat off the beaten path.
Life is more than a destination.
This year has NOT been an easier year for my kids. They’ve both had some problems that many of my friends probably already know about but I’m not putting on the internet. Teens have their own stories that they control and my blog isn’t the place for me to talk about them.
In my residency program there are only 11 other people who can do my job. At home there’s only one. And that job has become a job that cannot be done by the many surrogates and supporters I have. It can’t be outsourced, it can’t be done over the phone or by text. I have to be here, putting in the face time, navigating daily life with them. There are good days, where they are doing well and don’t seem to need me much, but there are bad days too, where a high-touch parenting approach is needed.
The unpredictable nature of good days vs bad days, and the crucialness of my presence on those bad days, makes me a terrible team member for those other 11 people (and the 4 interns who do important work, just not my job yet). They deserve to have a reliable team. I’ve been working very hard to try to be all things to all people but I just can’t do it.
I can’t do it. As much as I want to. As hard as I’ve tried. Some things can’t be accomplished with grit and hard work.
So, for the next little while, I’m going to stop pulling myself apart. I'm going to stop being a resident, for just a little while. I have the most amazingly supportive residency program, they are going to hire me to use my MPH and my clinical skills together to do research. As a single mother, I need my salary and working a 40 hour work week will seem like half a job (it will be about half the hours I was working before!). With flexibility to work from home sometimes and no nights or weekends, I can be the parent I need to be right now.
One of the people I sought advice from this week while figuring all this stuff out gave me some great advice: Think about what difference this choice will make in 5 days, 5 months and 5 years. In just the last few days of being more accessible, I can see my kids unfolding and coping better. In 5 months I hope that their lives will be stable again. Maybe I’ll be able to use this time to take care of myself as well - to exercise, socialize and get some regular therapy. I still have a bit of healing from my divorce and resettlement process that could benefit from some time to reflect. In 5 years, everyone I’m inconveniencing will be finished with residency, so will I. They will have made it through the Larissa-sized hole I’m putting in their lives. It won’t matter as much to me that I didn’t get to graduate with the class I started with, that my residency will be finished in October or November instead of July like nearly all residents everywhere. My little ego bumps and their big scheduling nightmares will be over.
Sometimes the road of life has unexpected curves in it. It still gets you where you are going, but you’re going to have to slow down, take the corners carefully, maybe stop and get gas or a bite to eat off the beaten path.
Life is more than a destination.
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