Both/And

Remember back when we were wee ones job hunting and when we got a call back we immediately started planning the next six months because, you know, you have to work. But then, suddenly, you don’t get said job and somehow windows on other opportunities closed while you were planning.

Just me?

Well, Hope is going through this phase right now. She finally got a call from a store that she’s been rejected at multiple times. She is already planning her future well in advance of having even gotten through the interview. Meanwhile, just yesterday, I was reminding her that she needed to follow up with the local community college to find out why she can’t register. I am requiring she take one class–whatever topic she wanted–this summer to get her feet wet for eventually going back to school.

When I reminded her today, she wouldn’t have time since she was going to be working.

Working? Girl, where? You haven’t got the job yet. Until she has been hired, done her paperwork and literally walked out of the house for her first shift, I needed her to follow up with the community college. She went into blank stare mode. It’s one of those looks that I’m convinced is quickly smoothed onto the face to avoid rolling one’s eyes, which obviously would not be good.

I know my daughter can be overwhelmed by decisions and choices, but I need to guard against her “bird in the hand” until she *actually* has a bird in the hand. I want her to be able to think both/and sometimes. Holding space for more than a couple of things at a time can be hard, but when they drop or someone takes them–it’s bad.

If this job doesn’t pan out, I want her to have kept an option open for Basket weaving 101, otherwise she will be bummed about missing out on both. Summer classes start in a couple of weeks.

And this is the big stuff. I gently sent her a message reminding her to be strategic in telling employers her availability. Rescheduling her essential medical appointments is hard. We have times with longstanding appointments that are locked in–the possibility of moving them is nearly impossible.

Every development that comes Hope’s way, I realize there is so much to learn. She is smart, but naive in that I-know- everything-and-more-than-you-OMG-Mommy-help-me kinda way. I don’t remember so many little odds and ends. A lot of things you just literally have to DO, and hope you did it right. For someone as anxious as Hope, that must be hard. I’m realizing that the true external manifestations of my anxiety didn’t happen well into adulthood. I remember feeling like, “I can’t believe I”m really doing this!” I don’t remember being hopelessly, paralyzingly overwhelmed by life at that age.

Hope is not me, so I’m trying to be firm and loving as I try to hold her accountable through the job hunt/return to school episode. I know it will be ok, but it all just makes me pause and reflect on just how I approached similar challenges to what Hope is currently experiencing. I know she will get there; she just there right now.

I needed her to practice these skills this lap around the mountain. Wish us both luck.