Big Changes Ahead: Taking the Road Less Traveled

The Road Not Taken

 

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

 

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

 

By Robert Frost (1874–1963)

 



Well, as if Roux-en-Y Gastric Bypass isn’t a big enough change in my life this summer, I have had another big decision to make, too.   

 

When Rod and I were on our way home from my surgery consult in Toronto, in mid-June, he asked me, “Do you like your job? Would you be less stressed out if you didn’t have to work?” 

 

Of course, I was totally thrown by this unexpected question, and took a few minutes to respond. 

 

 “Yes, I do like teaching and love being a teacher,” I said, “but it definitely adds some stress to my life sometimes.” 

 

“Well,” said Rod, “I don’t want you to get have that ‘flame-out’ thing or whatever happen to you.”

 

I laughed. “I think you mean ‘care-giver burnout’,” I corrected him.

 

He said, “I just wonder of you’d have a lot less stress if you didn’t have to work.  I want you to know that if you want to, you can stop working, anytime.  My income is enough to take care of everything.”

 

Again, I took several minutes to collect my thoughts after this unexpected pronouncement.

 

"Work can be stressful,” I said. “And I have thought, and said, in my blogs and stuff, how nice it would be if I could just put all my focus on the boys’ needs. Well, the family as a whole. I have felt guilty over the past few years that I just haven’t been able to do enough for everyone, but especially in terms of Ryan’s therapies and programs.  Then again, I would also be stressed out if I wasn’t working because I would be worried about money, and plans we have. I also don’t know HOW to be a stay-at-home mom. It would be a big change, a huge adjustment in my life.”

 

So, we talked in detail about our financial status: debts, savings, RSPs, RESPs, RDSPs, insurance, medical coverage, etc.  I explained to Rod why I have fears about not having my own income.  We talked about what in our lifestyle and future plans would have to change:  what I’d do when I need to buy something for myself or the kids; how Rod will have to retire a few years later than he’d originally planned; waiting a few more years for a new car; how we won’t be able to do the major home renovations or put in the pool like we’d always planned.  Rod feels his income is sufficient to keep the family stable as it is now, with some of our luxuries cut off; and he explained that his earning potential is only going to grow in the coming years, so there are no worries on that count.

 

We talked about how our roles would change, too.  Naturally, my focus would be the home and the family.  Rod’s one big emphasis is that I would have to start cooking supper again.  I assured him that with the post-operative changes to my diet, home-made, healthy meals would become imperative anyways.  Things might be unpalatable at first, but I would have the time to learn to cook!

 

I think the timing of Rod’s proposal is interesting.  I received a letter from the school board informing me that I am a “supernumerary teacher,” meaning that due to my place on the board’s seniority list, I may be either laid off or moved to another school next year.  (In fact, half our staff of 11 got supernumerary or layoff notices.  It was mind-boggling.)   Furthermore, St. Michael’s is always under threat of closure, since the Board is not mandated by the province to run our school.  We could be closed at any time.   

 

I know I would not want to work anywhere else except with the adult students at St. Michael’s.

 

Things at St. Michael’s are changing, too.  The Board announced they are taking away our Vice Principal next year. We will not have one. Our current student secretary is also retiring, and they are replacing her with someone who will only be in 3-4 days a week.  This is outrageous.  Not to mention the possible staff layoffs as mentioned earlier, separating our wonderful, close-knit staff.

 

After running all this through my mind, I’ve decided to accept Rod’s offer. Technically, I have applied to the school board for an unpaid leave of absence for one year. I'm nervous about cutting all ties entirely until I know we can handle this major lifestyle change. However, I have yet to hear from the school board regarding the request, and if they do not honour it, I will resign my position.

 

I feel like now is the time to leave.  It will give me the time to focus on myself after surgery and the big lifestyle changes that come with that.  It will give me time to focus on Kevin, to ensure he has a smooth transition into grade 1. I also like the idea of finally being more involved in Andrea’s school experience: being able to participate in field trips, attend her concerts and assemblies, etc.

 

It will give me the time to focus on Ryan, too, as we move forward with the Summit Centre. Because, yes, we’ve had great news there!  Ryan starts their STEPS daycare program on September 3 and 5, and will be going full-time starting September 9. This program has hours that would interfere with my work hours. It also has parent participation requirements that I would not be able to take time from work to fulfill. The STEPS program has a home-day once a week—Thursdays—that I would have needed to be home for anyways.  There are also mandatory observation days where parents go in with their children for the day and watch the therapists implement the child’s program. Furthermore, I'll have more time to dedicate to doing monthly STEPS homework and implementing Ryan's ABA program at home. Unfortunately, I have seen regression in Ryan since we finished Unity, making it all too clear that he is a child who needs daily, intensive ABA therapy for continued progress.

 

Of course, I do have concerns about not working. I wonder if I will go crazy by myself, at home.  I know I will miss teaching—a lot!  I worry that I won’t live up to Rod’s expectations as “head cook and bottle washer” (although I warned him to be patient—there will be a MAJOR adjustment period!).  It will be awkward not having my “own” money.

 

One thing I also worry about is what people will think.

 

I know many people in our family are so proud of me being a teacher.  I feel like I might be disappointing them by suddenly ending my career.  I also fear that people will judge me as being weak or lazy, taking the easy way out. They might even see me as a failure, unable to handle both career and family, as so many others manage to do. Maybe I even feel a bit this way about myself.

 

Of course the legacy of Aunt Julie is on my mind, too. I’ve always marvelled at how much we’ve had in common, and tried to make her proud.  But part of me hopes she would understand what I’m going through.  If she had lived to mother her children on the Autism spectrum, I’m sure she would have done anything, made any sacrifices, to ensure they had happy lives and reached their fullest potential.  I don’t know if she would have given up teaching for them. Maybe she would have been strong enough to do it all.  I hope she wouldn’t be disappointed by my decision.

 

I guess I'm not the "Supermom" everyone thinks I am.  I'm human.

 

Thus, The Road Not Taken has suddenly become a major metaphor in my life.  I never saw this divergence coming.  I don't know what's around the bend.  I don't know what regrets I may have by choosing this unexpected path, but I also don't know what blessing may come my way.  I'll wonder what would have happened if I stayed on the one path, and I'll worry over the unfamiliar territory I'm about to explore on my new path. 

 

 

"It may be when we no longer know what to do, we have come to our real work, and that when we no longer know which way to go, we have begun our real journey."
Wendell Berry