The inner voice

is getting stronger and gaining clarity as each day passes. One more little step (or was it a big one?) is in progress. My darling daughter decided she wants to pierce her tongue. My immediate gut reaction was: No.

She tried to win me over with the argument: “At least I don’t want to pierce my lip, eyebrow, ears, neck or nose! In my mouth, nobody would see it.” I knew that the feeling in my stomach had nothing to do with her appearance.

A couple of years ago, she bombarded me into letting her go with her grandmother (who also had a belly button and nose piercing) to get her belly button pierced. I wasn’t happy about it.

Early this year, it was a tattoo. I felt a bit funny, but agreed — and got a tattoo myself. In fact, we did it together, and took turns holding each other’s hand and popping M&M’s into each other’s mouth to bear the pain. It was nice, but even that happened too quickly for my taste.

This time she tried it again. She explained that a new classmate’s mother has a piercing studio and she could get a tongue piercing as an early birthday present. Yesterday morning, 2 minutes before she had to run out the door to school, she shoved the permission form under my nose and said I had to sign it right away. I refused, and she ran out the door. In a weak impulse, I signed it.

Yesterday afternoon we stopped by to visit her father, and she discussed it with him. During the drive there, I said I wanted his opinion as well. The piercing and tattoo I had done on my own responsibility, but I reminded her that he is also her parent and has some say in the matter. As expected, he was vehemently against it.

Meanwhile, I had crossed out my signature. She found the form and was furious, as she’d planned to fake my signature. The weeping number (“poor me”) didn’t work, so then she told me that she hated me, and said a few choice words. Remembering our little talk about hurtful statements last week, she added: “I know what I just said and I really mean it!”

I went to the movies, knowing full well that in her rage, she might be tempted to lock me out of the apartment, or go out. Earlier she had asked if she could go out in the evening with some friends, but I’d said: “No, not on a school night.” (Yup! Two “No’s” in one day — sometimes that is necessary.)

When I got home, the door was open and she was home — but still in a bad mood. I did some research on the internet about tongue piercing and possible complications, and decided to stick to my decision. That’s it.

She was still annoyed this morning. I gave her a couple of things to read that I had printed out — an article about the risks, and a first-hand bad experience. She wasn’t impressed and said she knew already. But the discussion was over.

It is clear to me that she is very stubborn and may find a way to get a new form, forge my signature, and do it this afternoon after school. I have to let go. But I know I made the right decision because it feels right inside. That’s still an unfamiliar feeling, but the more I make such decisions, the more familiar it becomes.

During the past few years I felt guilty and sad about all the child-rearing mistakes I made. Gradually I have been able to let go of that and focus on now. What happens now is what matters. I cannot change the past, nor can I deny the grief. But I definitely can determine what I do and say today.

Say “No” for a happy ending

It was a simple enough situation. A work colleague called to ask if I could take over her night shift on the spur of the moment, because her father isn’t well and she wanted to spend the time with him. I hesitated, as I have two night shifts this week anyway and had plans that evening. She said it was okay and that she would ask another colleague. If that colleague couldn’t, then it wasn’t meant to be. I told her to call me back if that colleague couldn’t and I could change my plans.

Unaware of the developments, I called her back to ask if things had worked out, still willing to change my plans if necessary. She told me the other colleague had agreed to take over the night shift. What a relief! I had to go in for a few hours that evening, so I was able to convince myself that it was truly okay.

As it turned out, our other colleague was delighted! She’d had day duty and we were in the midst of a terrible snowstorm — nearly 1 meter of snow in 24 hours. The roads were a disaster. This other colleague happens to live rather high up along a windy road on a mountain. Her sister had called her earlier to warn her that she would have to park lower down and hike home. So it was perfect for her that she could stay put in the warm building and deal with going home the next day. By then things would hopefully have calmed down somewhat.

So, it was good that I followed the inner voice and said, “No.” Of course, if push came to shove, I would have done the overnight, but only if there was no other solution. I’ve done three night shifts in one week and I can tell you, I’m out of commission for a while! On the other hand, I know someone whose father suddenly became ill and died a week later, so I would have insisted that I take over the duty if the other colleague couldn’t. She needed that precious time with her father. That certainly outweighs the drag of being tired for a week.

Oh, and as for my plans that evening. I’d been out driving in the morning and was thankful to get home safe and sound. I took the train to work that afternoon. Later on I cancelled the plans anyway and enjoyed a quiet evening at home. The roads were too treacherous to risk going out just for fun — and the train connection would not have worked.

I’m happy for this experience, as I’ve tended to say “Yes” way too often and then been grumpy, exhausted, resentful and sometimes found out that it really wouldn’t have been necessary. Thus I take this as an encouraging wink. Sure, it is important to be willing to help others out in times of need, but I also need to evaluate my own situation — and trust that if I say “No” they will find an equally good or even better solution! In addition, my colleagues know they can ask me and I will be honest. When another one was sick last month, I told her on the spot to go ahead and go home and I would take the rest of her shift. Absolutely no problem.

I am finally learning that the world will turn without me — quite well in fact! I don’t have to do everything, help everyone, save everyone — not if it means I run myself ragged in the process. I’m learning to say, “It would be too much, or rather inconvenient, or I have other plans, but if you can’t find a solution, then get back to me.” That also gives me time to rethink it and accept the fact that I just might end up changing my plans. And I follow up if she doesn’t call me. My colleague knows she can rely on me to be honest, but also to be there for her in an emergency. That’s a good thing to know.

When enough is enough

Good grief! I go out and get a job, and all of a sudden I don’t have much time to write. Over here, they don’t just say you work part-time or full-time. They go by percent. 100% is 40 hours a week, 50% is 20 hours a week, 80% is 32 hours a week, etc. My present position is 80%, but they goofed up while preparing my work contract and wrote 70%. That was in the process of being changed.

Then my boss told me I need to put in more hours, because the hours she had assigned me weren’t enough. I started to worry. I calculated the hours. I looked at how many I had to make up from the previous month — 30. The monthly paycheck is the same, it’s just up to me to get the hours right. I looked at the paycheck, I calculated how much more I would make once they corrected it to 80%. I calculated how many more hours that would require. I reflected upon the fact that my 14-year-old son started a new school this year and often doesn’t get home until after 4 pm, which is when I usually go on duty. And when I come home at night, if I see him, then only to scold him that he should be in bed. And I thought about whether or not it is worth less than $200 more a month to see my son maybe 10 days a month, run myself ragged and be stressed out.

I emailed my boss and apologized for the inconvenience, and said that I’d like to be assigned to 28 hours a week. If all the numbers and percentages have confused you, I have good news. Skip it! Forget it! All I’m basically saying is: For once in my life I looked at the situation, decided it would be too much (even though I know I could SURVIVE it), and opted for a sane solution. Sometimes more isn’t the answer. Or it is. It just depends on what you’re talking about. More consideration for my limits and energy is good. Running myself ragged for more money is not good.

True, I am in a position right now where I’m not desperate for that extra money. Of course, my situation could change tomorrow. But for today, I seek the best possible solution. And today it works.

Today I don’t need to prove that I can push beyond my limits and be superwoman. I know I can do that. In fact, I’ve done it. It is harmful to my health. Today I am listening to my heart. If you ask me, I think the universe botched up the contract on purpose and put in 70% right from the start — just to get me thinking, and demonstrate that the contract could be corrected if there were any mistakes. Thank you, stars and higher power!