"Friday Friday, Party night, Party night" - After a week of tireless work, we indulge in a Friday night filled with singing, rocking, and devouring chicken feasts, while sipping on refreshing Coke and immersing ourselves in an epic movie marathon. It's the perfect way to recharge and reward ourselves for our top-performing efforts.
But today wasn't the right moment to celebrate the end of the workweek. Just like me, some of us feel a jumble of emotions on Fridays, especially when the pressure of deadlines and responsibilities becomes too much to handle.
For the past month, I had been tirelessly working on a project, which forced me to sacrifice my weekends. The exhaustion had taken its toll, and I woke up that morning wishing I could have slept forever. The feeling was akin to torture, and anxiety began to seep into every crevice of my being.
As I battled my own inner turmoil, I noticed my son pleading with us, "I don't want to go to school." His innocent plea caught my attention and tugged at my heartstrings. In that moment, I realized the impact of my stress was having on him.
In that moment of realization, my super-parenting instincts kicked in. I decided to turn the situation around and transform it into a positive experience for both my son and myself. So, I gently reminded him of my unwavering commitment to attending school every day, proudly mentioning my perfect 100% attendance record.
Meanwhile, my mindvoice whispered, "Ah, the Oscar-worthy performance of my stomach pain drama, a classic tactic to secure a day off from school."
But my son, in all seriousness, started pleading with earnestness in his eyes.
To lighten the mood, we made a promise to our son. We would let him go to school for only half a day and skip daycare afterward. His face lit up with joy at the prospect of an unexpected adventure. He agreed, on the condition that we only packed one snack box, instead of the usual two. When it came to daycare, he firmly believed in the mantra of two lunch boxes
With our compromise in place, I dropped him off at school, eagerly awaiting lunchtime when I would pick him up. As the clock ticked away, and when the time finally came, I rushed to pick him from school.
With a beaming smile plastered on his face, he came out of school reveled in the bliss of skipping half a day of daycare. The satisfaction on his face was simply priceless.
My thoughts turned inward. I pondered over the question, "Who can help me free my pressure?"