Did you hear the reverberation of the starter's gun going off? It happens every single Monday around 7am...the marathon race to the end of the week has begun. Going back to school full time and working two part time jobs, at times I feel in over my head. Way in over my head. I have not been in a classroom for 21 years! In fact, the last time I was in a classroom I was typing my papers on my handy electric typewriter.I remember towards the end of my sophomore year we were introduced to the computer lab and the "word processing programs!" It seemed incredible. Now, as I sit in class, and they bring up the power point presentations that are linked to our on-line blackboards, and they tell us our quiz will be online and timed, I feel completely overwhelmed. I want to finish school, so badly. I know that I owe to myself to see it through. I promised my mom 21 years ago before I got married that I would finish school, and that is a promise I intend to keep to her. But more importantly I want to keep that promise to myself. I dropped out when I was a junior. I had given birth to this incredible human being that we named Jessica. She was weeks early, and a little bit of nothing in your arms, but to me she was all of a sudden the entire world. I just could not see leaving her in daycare while I went to classes. So I stayed home, and I never regretted it for a single second. I loved being home with all of my kids. There is not a second of their lives that I could see missing in order to have done anything differently. They were the greatest education I ever received and I learned what I needed to learn at that time in my life. They taught me to love unconditionally, to be patient, to appreciate little accomplishments, to laugh at myself, to cry out of exhaustion, and to ignore the mess in order to play. These were the classes I aced and graduated during their childhood. However now, through a combination of events, life and timing, I find myself at a turning point. So I go. I walk into the lectures, and click on to the online classes, I take those timed tests, and I put one foot in front of the other. I am sure that I will begin, a step at a time, to feel more comfortable in the classroom again. I am sure my brain can learn to function again. It can learn to comprehend a Criminal Law book, and learn to churn out research papers. It may even be taught how to memorize and retain facts and dates again. "I think I can" will be my mantra. Each and every day I doubt myself. Each day I tell myself to forget it, and just go and get some waitressing job and call it good. But I know that I can do more, be more, achieve more. I recently called my oldest on a particularly stressful day. I told her that I missed being with them day in and day out way too much. I told her I was just going to come back to our home town and figure something out. She told me no! She told me she would be disappointed in me. She asked me what I would be showing them if I just gave up and quit. She told me she was proud of me. She told me she was proud of me... This first child, this child that turned me from college student into mom in the blink of an eye, is now giving the gift back. She is telling me not to choose anymore. That I can be mom, and be the college student, and that she is proud. I can't wait for class tonight. I know I can do this.