Stephen, father

Last Thursday was the worst day of the year. I can't go into it: I need to press on, forget and move forward. Move forward. Move forward.

After I picked a fight with my wife for the umpteenth time on Tuesday, I realised I can do this the easy way, or I can do this the hard way. The hard way is to continue to be angry, frustrated, and immolated by this project and take all my anger and insecurity home and saddle it on my wife and kids. Or I can make my home a refuge, the place where I am not angry, where my supervisor's criticism of me (which is perfectly apt and driving me, driving me, driving me to excellence) doesn't touch me. Where I am safe because I choose to be safe, and happy because I choose to be happy. I don't want my kids to remember me as angry and short with them.

So. We went to the Monkey Forest this weekend. And I wasn't angry. I was a little bit, sometimes, but I tried hard to let it go. And it was nice. Really, really nice. Look at how much of a father I am:

Work has come through at Middlesex for the year. I start on Thursday. I have no time for anything: parent/ teacher conferences on Wednesday (as the parent not the teacher) classes Thursday, PhD writing due Friday, Lancaster proposal on Monday, Mei to the hospital on Monday, Middlesex again on Thursday (PhD analysis notes all the time I'm not sleeping), prepare for trip, flight to NYC on Monday, presentation Tuesday, meetings Wednesday, to CT and back for presentation on Thursday, to Philly on Friday, back to NYC on Sunday, back to England, Monday, writing due for PhD on Friday.

I will survive, as long as I know how to love. It will be over in 295 days.