And today, a second termite extermination company guy came over to inspect my house. He also confirmed termite activity and a rotting patio covering.
“It’s not an emergency,” he said.
It’s not an emergency.
My across-the-street neighbor told me the other day that his dad told him that a problem that can be fixed with money is not really a problem. (Or something like that.)
Really, anything that can be solved with money is not the end of the world. A rebellious child, a fatal disease, a killer mudslide, a vicious avalanche, a broken heart . . . none of these things can be prevented with money. (Can they?) Those are Problems.
So it’s all perspective, right?
I’m just trying to do the right thing and make the right choices–which is pretty much the story of my life. It’s disorienting, though, to have your actions as a parent questioned by the very people you are doing your best to raise and protect. (I’m so tired of this.)
Having your intentions misunderstood or misinterpreted by your kids is a special type of pain that you can’t really imagine before you have kids. (Utterly exhausted.)
Balancing freedom and safety . . . granting permission or just saying no . . . it’s just exhausting some days, isn’t it? (I need a vacation.)
Today, one of my sons texted me to let me know he forgot to tell me he was going out of town for a conference and that he needed to pack business-casual clothes and could I help him? And, by the way, some of the clothes were dirty. So, I helped him out because I’m nice like that. I also bought him two new pairs of pants at Costco because college students don’t usually have enough “business casual” outfits to last four days. At least my college students don’t.
Between that, the termite inspector, giving a different child bad news (“you can’t go”) and having that child furious with me . . . and then making an appearance in a class my husband was teaching . . . I had another one of those crazy busy days. I did get my walk in and I did clean up my kitchen, so there’s that.
And so far, the sky is not falling, nor is the deck cover. (But there’s always tomorrow.)