It’s hard, but the paycheck is a nice perk

This is my 322nd post. That doesn't mean much but I thought I'd tell you since it's news to me.  If you look at the number of posts from last year you would think this number should be much higher.  I can't pinpoint exactly what's been going on that has made my posting wane.  I used to think about all kinds of blog posts to write and sometimes had a hard time narrowing down what to say which often resulted in insanely long posts that I bet no one could finish reading.  You all probably skipped the words and went straight to the pictures didn't you?  Don't lie.  I do the same thing.

I'm in a really weird place right now I guess.  School is over.  That’s weird.  Work has begun.  Weird.  I am now thought competent to practice nursing and people look at and talk to me in the hospital like I know all the answers and will be able to work wonders on their kid.  Uber weird.  News flash: I do not have all the answers.  Most nights, er mornings, I drive home thinking about you and your kids and how I wish I would have remembered to say just one more thing that might have been helpful to you.  In the middle of thinking about what I forgot to do for you and your kid I try to focus on the image of my perfectly healthy, roly poly, ball of wonder waiting for me to walk through the door.  I think about those things and about NOT falling asleep at the wheel and also please-for-the-love-of-God-do-I-really-have-to-go-back-to-work-tonight-say-it-ain’t-so.

Anyway.  I think the biggest reason I haven’t been posting is because – here comes the honest truth – I am totally, completely, 100% overwhelmed.  Ta da!  Not in the “I need help before I have a mental breakdown” kind of overwhelmed, just

OVER
(freaking)
whelmed

at the sheer amount of things I have to keep track of these days.  I’ll tell you what folks -- Working is hard.  Being a real nurse is hard.  Being a real working-mom nurse working 12-hour night shifts and having 12-hour class days in the daytime whose husband is away for the summer is really freaking hard.  I’ve already been reamed out because I forgot to do some online evaluations for the Nurse Residency Program.  Oops.  I’ve also filled out my first Medication Error report.  (Shits and giggles!?!) Oops.  Also, truth be told -- I don’t love it as much as I thought I would.  I don’t know if it’s because everything is new and I’m out of my element or if this unit just isn’t the right fit for me or because Kevin is gone and I stress every minute about who will take care of Avelyn and how some of them just will NOT do it right no matter what I say… not that I think about that A LOT or anything.  I’m just not sure.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate it.  When I’m there I work really hard, try to absorb anything and everything I can, practice new skills every night and I enjoy my job.  I just don’t love it and I thought, or at least hoped that, I would.  Naive I guess but still, is it too much to ask? 

I keep telling everyone I’m not totally surprised I feel this way because it’s the ER.  The pediatric ER.  Does anyone really wake up in the morning thinking, “Say! I’d like to go to work tonight and stick IV’s and catheters into every little kid and tiny baby that walks in tonight!”  Well I don’t, but that’s a lot of what I do when I go there.  Argh.  Also, I had an abuse case each of the last two nights I worked.  One was a definite, no doubt in anyone’s mind abuse case and the other was suspected.  Either way it takes up your whole night and the cops come and CPS and it’s just miserable.  Those are really hard.  Those make your stomach churn and your mind race and your heart sink into the floor.  Those and the cancer kids.  How I ever thought I might want to do Pediatric Oncology is beyond me.  When those kids pop up on the intake screen I scan really fast hoping they are NOT in my room.  It’s too much.  It’s too sad.  Kids shouldn’t get cancer, especially little kids, especially especially babies.  It’s not right and I hate hate hate it.

Man, I didn’t intend for this to be such a downer post so I hope you read it carefully and don’t think I’m freaking out having a midlife crisis or anything.  This is just all new, and I have to get the hang of it.  Also, like I said, IT’S REALLY FREAKING HARD.  New jobs are never easy and it doesn’t help that I have been sick with a virus for the last three weeks and everyone in my Nurse Residency group treated me like I had the plague so now I have no friends.  Whatev.  I need some working mom friends.  Why do you all live in OTHER STATES?  What’s so great about your state?  I’d say move here but I can’t wait to move away from here.  Anyway, read this with caution.  I keep wanting this blog to be the outlet I want it to be, where I can write about the actual goings on in my life with my stellar and world renowned sarcasm without a bandwagon of friends and family going ape shit crazy.  But then I write something and someone, somewhere, goes ape shit crazy and I back off again.  Gah!  It’s 10:32pm and the Hobo slept terribly in Chicago so I am going to take advantage of my night and try to be in bed by midnight so I get at least 6 hours sleep. 

Since I’m back in Texas I’ll end with ‘Night folks! Y’all come back now, ya here! because in Texas we all ride horses to work and sleep outside and end our conversations like that.  So, ‘night!

(Coming soon… much more delightful post about our Fun Fab Fabulous few days in Chicago!  Need a teaser?)

Back in the sad(dle)

Last night I had a mini meltdown.  I lay in bed for what seemed like hours thinking about all the things I was doing wrong, all the things I wanted to do but wasn’t, everything I was screwing up.

Avelyn has to go back to daycare tomorrow after staying home sick Thursday and Friday.  She is supposed to start in the walkers room.  I don’t want her to go.  I know she has to go so I can get some studying done, because if I don’t study I will not pass this test and if I do not pass this test I lose my job and all that I worked and sacrificed for will be a waste.  So she has to go to daycare.  But I feel like such a crap mom sending her there!  Look at all the fun things we do here at home!  We go to the pool, for walks in the morning, to the park, she is old enough to start doing some art projects, and I want to work with her to start saying words.  Why isn’t she saying any words!  She calls everything ki-tee (kitty) and da-dee (Daddy) or ugh (ugh!).  Shouldn’t she be saying words?  What’s wrong with me?  Why did it take me this long to get through school?  Why do we owe so much money?  Why can’t I stay home with her?  She has fallen so much this week, I don’t think I can take it if she gets hurt.  She doesn’t get hurt at daycare.  Is it me?  What if she falls on the concrete outside?  What if she cracks her head open??  Why am I having this conversation with myself again?!?  AAAGGGHHH!!!

Then I felt the overwhelming sense of anxiety, that heart pounding, impending doom, I’m-going-to-die feeling and I couldn’t stand it. 

It is midnight.  Do not go pick up Avelyn just to make yourself feel better.  Do not.  Oh screw it, go pick up Avelyn.  It will make you feel better, she will sleep in your arms, something she won’t do forever.  Go.

I went.  I picked up that great big thirty two inch, twenty seven pound thirteen month old and held her tight while we rocked back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.  I cried, just a little, and stroked her hair and smelled her skin while she slept in my arms.  I took a deep breath and thought about my favorite Bible verse, I think it was my Dad’s favorite verse too. 

“He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.  Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength.  They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” – Isaiah 40:29-31

I placed Avelyn back in her crib and just watched her sleep for a few minutes.  She is so beautiful.  So precious and fragile.  I thought about all the things that could happen to her, all the things I want to protect her from, and how little control I have over most of them.  I fell asleep trying to concentrate on that Bible verse, feeling sad and out of control.

She woke up at 6:22 am today.  I lay in bed listening to her talk herself awake for about 20 minutes.  The sound of her voice in the morning just kills me, it is so beautiful and pure.  She was smiling ear to ear when I went to pick her up.  While making her bottles for the day she fell on the kitchen floor and busted her lip.  More blood, more tears.  (From her too).  She fell again in the bathroom while I was getting dressed.  More tears, a bad bump, a terrible scratch and it’s only 8am.  I just cried while I held her, hating that she hurt, hating myself that I couldn’t protect her from everything.  Hating her sick ears for making her so dizzy and unbalanced.  (Her poor little ears.  At her two week post op ear tube checkup Avelyn had a few drops of fluid in her right ear that we were “waiting and seeing” about.  The next week she had dried hard stuff coming out and the week after that runny pussy discharge.  She’s been on an antibiotic for almost a week now and it still has not gone away.  In fact it’s gotten worse.  We go back to the ENT tomorrow.)

She calmed down way before I did and I took her to school.  Since she was feeling bad her teachers in the baby room said she could stay with them today and they would take her over to the orange room for a visit and she could start there full time tomorrow.  When I got home I just got back in bed.  I felt like a giant, fat, horrible loser.  A tired loser.  A loser that just wanted to sleep.  But what kind of a mother took her kid to daycare and came home to sleep?  How terrible am I?!  Here I was, lying in bed while my kid was at daycare and fell asleep.  I got up at 11 and felt okay.  I did some laundry, picked up the house and read a message from a friend I needed to hear.  Just take it hour by hour.  Be a student when Avelyn is at school, and a mom when she’s at home.  Just get it done.  And I did. 

Tonight I’m doing okay.  I’m worried about her ears but hopefully we will get them fixed and she will feel better soon.  I did some NCLEX practice tests today so I am making progress.  I stuck to my plan.  I will repeat this plan tomorrow, that’s all I can do. 

I know all I can do is do my best to protect and provide for her.  Teach her how to live and be the most amazing person she can be.  I can do that.  I am doing it.  I’m just having a hard couple of days.  Thank God she is here, making my life a better one, opening my heart to make me a better person, a better woman, a more compassionate nurse.  I would be lost without her.

[UPDATE: Avelyn’s ear is just not getting better.  We have an appointment next week with an immunologist to test her immune system which the ENT suspect’s is just not mature enough to fight the infection.  I hope they find the cause so we can just give her a booster and be done with it!]

And the birds keep singing

My dad’s been gone for 15 years now.  It feels strange.  I was so busy caring for Avelyn yesterday that I didn’t realize what day it was until the afternoon.  It was easier this year than any year previous, I think because I have a family of my own, a reason to get up every day and think about the future rather than the past.  Not that it means in any way that I am over his death, or don’t miss him everyday or have moments of such sincere grief that I think my heart might break all over again.  It just means that I have an idea now of how he must have felt at some point about our family.   

I remember after my dad passed away my mom would talk about seeing cardinals, and how she thought about it like it was him, showing her signs and pointing her in the right direction.  I thought it was crazy when I was young but at some point I started seeing them too.  And I only saw them at moments I really needed to see him.  Moments when I missed him something awful, or felt totally helpless or had no idea what to do.  Out of nowhere a bright red, beautiful cardinal would show up. 

One appeared on Thursday, the day before “the day”.  It flew all around our backyard.  I saw it while we were eating lunch, just the three of us, at our kitchen table.  It was beautiful and flittering around the tree outside the window.  I smiled and told Kevin to look.  I asked if he knew what day it was, what tomorrow was and he said yes and smiled too.  Sure it could be a coincidence, it’s possible there are swarms of cardinals flying around me all the time and I just don’t see them until I need to see them.  Even so I can’t help but feel like his presence was there, giving me the peace I felt all day Friday.  Giving me peace when I miss him most. 

I miss you, Dad. 

Bruce Robert Norman, 1955-1994

A lot, a little late

It’s OVER! I am
DONE with nursing school,
DONE with working for free,
DONE with living away from my family,
DONE with living in apartments and with other people!
DONE! DONE ! DONE!

Where to begin? The past two weeks (Seriously? Two weeks? I can’t believe I’ve gone two weeks without blogging. It’s like I actually utilized my time wisely. Glad that’s over.) have been a roller coaster. I’m not really sure how much detail to go into, out of sheer exhaustion and pure peace that it is all over.

To make a very long story short, I almost did not graduate. I passed both of my classes, but due to a technicality in the grading system I was told that even though my final grade was passing, I would fail one class and thus be unable to graduate. Me and two other people. I would have to come back in the fall and take the entire class and clinical over again. Don’t even ask, the whole thing makes no sense. The grading policy made no sense, the syllabus was not clear. A million things were wrong with this situation. I cried, no sobbed, for two days. I could not imagine going through this separation from Kevin and Avelyn again. I felt myself falling into a dark hole of depression and just could not imagine that this was really happening. It was awful. But I fought hard to make it right. Kevin fought hard, writing letters which thankfully I never had to send, and breaking it all down in an easy to argue argument. I took it to my advisor who fought hard for all of us – and we won! The grading policy was changed, our whole class graduated and IT IS ALL OVER!!!!!!!!!

Monday, May 4th: Take my first final. Get an 84 on it. Get an 86 final average in the class. On the way home I get a phone call that I FAILED THE CLASS BECAUSE OF ANOTHER AVERAGE (that I won’t bore you with here) AND WILL NOT GRADUATE. Have mini breakdown. Freak out. Sob. Wail. Sink into deep anxiety laden depression. Still have to go home and study for the final on Tuesday. Nice.

Tuesday, May 5th: Take second final (that I pass with an 80 and get an 86 in the class even in the middle of this “you will not graduate you big fatty loser” sh*t). Walk out of the classroom and am met with a giant fat crazy b*tch of a human being all up in my face asking if I passed because she heard I had failed. Thanks giant fat crazy b*tch. Thanks a lot for making my sh*tty last day of school even sh*ttier. Guess I’ll just creep out this side door and avoid saying (possibly my last) goodbye to all my friends so my giant puffy crying face doesn’t bring them down on what should be a great last day of class. Crazy b*tch, I hate you. Go make out with another ho ho.

Wednesday, May 6th: Phone is off so I sleep until after 10am. Well needed rest. Wake up to 13 missed calls and 4 voicemails. Call back the only person who could give me the news I want. It’s official! They all agreed the syllabus was unclear and changed the grading policy! We all graduate! I have used my Crap Community Health nurse lobbying lecture and lobbied for change! I GET TO FREAKING GRADUATE! Call my fantastic friends who had been fighting just as hard and are just as excited about the news. Have a fabulous lunch with Darci and go home to relax until the end of year party later that day. Go to end of year party later that day and have a FAB-FAB-FABULOUS time. Have several drinks and lots of good conversation. Pull into the driveway around 12am just as Kevin and Avelyn pull up. Great day.

Thursday, May 7th: Wake up with a totally worth it hangover. We attend my pinning ceremony, a nursing school tradition. Kevin pins me and Avelyn does not scream watches in the back row with my grandparents. Afterward we take a few pictures with some Hobo stalkers friends and my advisor, Dr. Yu, who fought hard for me to graduate. I owe her something big :)

Friday, May 8th: Kevin, Avelyn and I have lunch with my childhood best friend Shannon and her son Cooper AKA Avelyn’s boy toy. They were born twelve days apart. You may remember him from tandem spit up days or the freaking cutest Halloween costume duo ever.

[Giant brackets as I segway into an interesting tidbit that just popped into my head. At the end of our 4th grade year Shannon and I both liked a boy named Robert McKeon. He called me on the phone one day (OMG! A BOY called ME on the PHONE!!!!!!!!!) and told me he liked me too and asked if I wanted to go out with him, or whatever fourth grade boys in 1991 might have said. My fourth grade self reallllllllllllllly wanted to but I was afraid to hurt Shannon’s feelings so I told him I would have to call him back. I called Shannon to make sure it was okay. She said it was but I could tell at school the next week she was not cool with it. I think Robert McKeon and I might have held hands maybe once, then I moved to a different school for fifth grade and we “broke up”. Well, I guess we broke up. Shannon told me during fifth grade year that he was dating some other girl from the FOURTH grade. WHORE! What a skanky loser, that Robert McKeon. Dumping me for a FOURTH grader just because I moved schools, hmph! I went back that year for their talent show to see my friends and his new girlfriend sang “My Favorite Things” from the Sound of Music. I swear to you I hate that song to this day. Below is Robert, top row, 2nd from the left. I’m on the 2nd row, far right and Shannon is wearing that kickin’ visor and sitting next to some girl I clearly did not like as evidenced by her scratched out face.]

Back to reality. Friday night is graduation. Pretty uneventful except for you know, the whole being totally done with nursing school and GRADUATING thing. I should have got more pictures with my homies.

Avelyn behaves swimmingly if you consider graduation didn’t start until 7pm and she usually goes to bed around 8pm. When all is said and done we are OUT of here, and we hit the road for San Antonio. Pull in around 2am. Too tired to feel anything.

Saturday, May 9th: Woke up to an amazing sensation of being home when a really cute little girl toddled in to say hello. We moved the big stuff from storage to the new house and I mowed and edged the front yard while Avelyn napped. Don’t remember much after that. Must have spent the evening recovering from Houston hell.

Sunday, May 10th: For Mother’s Day Kevin gave me a fantastic card and Avelyn gave me some beautiful dish towels, a book so I can pretend she likes me to read to her, and a card with some flower seeds for us to plant in our new garden this fall. I gave her a pony tail. I was really happy with my gifts. She was not so happy with hers.

Monday, May 11th: Spent allllllll day painting Avelyn’s room pink. Due to an unfortunate incident involving Kevin using the crapper and me accidently walking in on him only to be shooed away I was not able to get a pair of painting shorts out of the closet and ruined one of my two pairs of jeans that fit. Yes, I could have gone back for the shorts after he finished but I was flustered and forgot. Note to self – don’t walk in on Hubby in the crapper. It will mess you up for days.

Uncle Pennybags arrives Monday afternoon. Unfortunately we are not yet ready to move into our house. Unless I don’t mind retarding Hobo’s brain with paint fumes, which I do. Oh – and I also come down with the WORSTCOLDEVERRRRRR.

Tuesday-Wednesday: Spend time organizing, setting up, cleaning the new house and feeling really, really crappy. Contemplate slicing my nose off to relieve pressure and push myself too hard to get everything done. It’s worth it. We spend Wednesday night in OUR house.

Thursday, May 14th: Our FIRST day to wake up in our new house. Avelyn spends time getting the hang of having her own cabinet and leaving the rest of mine alone. She can do whatever she wants with the stuff in her cabinet. I am looking forward to the day I open the door and find her sitting in it. You know it’s coming. You also know five thousand pictures will be taken.

Friday, May 15th: I have no recollection of this day. I will assume it was the day I was prepared to die from the WORSTCOLDEVERRRRRR.

Saturday, May 16th: The washer that came with the house broke the first time we used it, which was not unexpected but annoying none the less. We buy a washer on Saturday, our very FIRST major appliance purchase ever. It’s really lame how excited I am about it. To celebrate this milestone we also buy Guitar Hero World Tour as a mutual Kevin/Jennifer belated birthday present to each other. Uncle Pennybags and Avelyn shared a paci high five to show their approval of this decision.

Sunday, May 17th: We drive to Rudy’s for the Worst Barbeque in Texas. It’s realllllly good. We drive back home and break out the monster bubble machine while Pennybags and Kevin rock the World Tour. The monster bubble machine is supposed to make bubbles. Big bubbles. Big bubbles with little bubbles inside them. It works on a sliding scale I think. When it works it’s really cool. And Avelyn looks amazingly beautiful. No surprise here.

Monday, May 18th: Called the store back about getting a delivery date for the washer I’m so excited about since the computers were down over the weekend and they couldn’t schedule a date. Was told the computer says it’s scheduled for delivery June 8th. JUNE 8th. Like THREE weeks away JUNE 8th. This is not acceptable. Grrrrr.

Dropped Avelyn off at school. She is being transitioned from the blue (infant) room to the orange (1-2’s) room this week. One of the many bittersweet moments I am getting used to. I’m so excited for her and all the things she has learned. I love her teachers and they have loved her and I hate she will have to leave them but I’m so excited for all that she will learn in the next room. They have dance class day and karate day and play outside… she is going to have so many fun experiences.

The house is coming together. We have a lot of space to fill, so many empty walls, a lonely dining room that holds six new chairs and one old ugly table begging to be refinished. I think I’m going to go buy Avelyn a swing to hang in the tree in the backyard. It’s shaded and she loves to swing so much. That should be nice.

I scheduled my test date for the NCLEX this morning. Thursday, June 4 at 12:15 I will be sitting down to start a 4 hour exam that will allow me to become Jennifer Welch, BSN, RN… hopefully. Guess I better get to studying this week.

Dropped Pennybags off at the airport. His sister-in-law has been diagnosed with cancer and had a biopsy today. She is pregnant with their second baby. Please pray for their family.

Picked Avelyn up from school and had a fantastic time chasing her around the house. She is getting so big and is so fast! Had dinner with Kevin’s parents at Luby’s where I gave Avelyn mashed potatoes for the third time. She finally decided they were tasty. Smart girl. Oh, and she is THIRTEEN months old today!

So that’s (briefly) what’s been going on around here. My Google Reader was so full when I finally checked in with you guys. Guess I better get back to reading what YOU’VE been up to!

PPS

I feel much better now.  Just needed to get that off my chest, you know, not having a therapist anymore and all. 

May is always a hard month and the weeks leading up to May 22 leave me anxious, teary eyed, emotionally unstable and probably not too fun to be around.  Add to that the stress of finals, graduation, moving, prepping for NCLEX, starting a new job… I just get overwhelmed.  When I get overwhelmed I get really anxious and start having panic attacks about every little thing.  Especially things that make me angry, like being told what to do, who to see, what to say, how to feel, blah, blah, blah.

So I’m not going to do any of those things.  I’m gonna do my own thing.  I’m gonna stand my ground, even if it means giving in just to keep peace (even though I know that doesn’t totally mean standing my ground).  Because what am I if not a gentle natured, peace loving, angel?  Ha ha ha ha. 

I told Kevin today I want to wake up in our house on Mother’s Day.  I don’t want to be at his parents place one more day.  It will be tough but I think we can make it happen.  If you’re in San Antonio next weekend and have some muscle would you please help me move in the afternoon on Saturday, May 9th?  We just have to load up a kind size bed, a dresser, a crib, a couch and maybe a TV.  All the little stuff is moved in.  I would be indebted to you.  And probably buy you dinner. 

I need peace.  I need freedom.  I need the solitude of MY home with MY family.  I LOVE my in laws, please don’t get me wrong, I am blessed with WONDERFUL M & FIL’s but we ALL need some space.

Just one more week.  Just one more week…

Thanks to all of you for being such great friends, and such a great support.  I can’t tell you how much better I feel to hear your typed words voice!  I love it.  Thanks for the kind words.

WARNING: Major vent session follows

I’m feeling down today, stressed out, and anxious.  There is too much going on and I don’t like it.  And honestly I am tired of pretending I’m okay about it.

I am so sick of feeling guilty for the way I feel.  Especially about things that should be wonderful times in my life.  Take this stupid graduation for example.  I went back to school for something I believed in, even though I have tens of thousands of dollars in loans I will be paying from the previous worthless degree until the day I die.  I had a baby in the middle of school, and didn’t drop out.  I did it while my husband lived 200 miles away.  I made the awful decision to part with my daughter so I could finish.  And now I’m about to graduate, on time.  This graduation isn’t stupid, but I sure am starting to hate it.

I know she won’t remember or even understand what’s going on, but Avelyn will be there and that means so much to me.  I don’t need anyone else but her.  (And Kevin of course.)  I don’t need any gifts, I don’t want a big show.  I have said this time after time after time and I mean it.  Why doesn’t anyone get it?  Why won’t they respect my wishes?  I don’t want a big graduation dinner.  I don’t want cards or gifts.  I don’t want people there who I have said I DON’T WANT TO BE THERE.  I just want a low key hey-thanks-for-coming-I’ll-see-you-after-the-ceremony kind of thing.  If you feel like I owe you time or something for coming to this then you shouldn’t be there.  This isn’t a celebration of you taking time to be there.  It’s a celebration of me and my fellow students somehow surviving long enough to make it out of this hell called nursing school. 

I know this sounds like I’m being ungrateful but it wouldn’t be like that if you people would listen to me and hear what I am saying.  Is it crazy to want to be surrounded by people I want to be there?  People that make me feel good?  People that don’t stress me out to the point I want to call the whole thing off, crawl into a hole and down a bottle of antidepressants?  Because that’s how I’m feeling about this whole stupid thing now.  Think anyone would notice if I didn’t even show?  Probably not because clearly it’s not about me.

Also, this is my second graduation.  The first one was bad enough.  I have invited my mom, my grandparents, Kevin’s parents and my sister.  That is it.  That is all.  And my sister probably won’t come because a) she lives far away and b) she and my mom are feuding again because they are essentially the same person and neither will back down.  And I said it was stupid, but this graduation isn’t stupid, it’s great.  I hate that I am hating it.  I just want to pass my finals next Monday and Tuesday and get the hello out of town. I want to move in to MY house with MY husband and MY daughter and get on with MY life. I want a vacation from everyone and everything that is going on. 

I say all these things and they sound horrible.  But why does it have to get to this point?  Why does it have to sound horrible?  I just want people to respect me.  I’m not an idiot.  I am me, take it or leave it.  We don’t have to like each other, but I deserve the same respect as everyone else in the family.  I’m the oldest on my side and the youngest on Kevin’s side.  In age, that is. 

So that’s my [if you can believe it, very edited] rant.  I don’t care anymore.  I’m done trying to pretend like I’m okay with everything and I’m done caring about this whole thing.  You guys just do what you want to do.  I don’t care who comes or what we do.  I.JUST.DON’T.CARE.  I am stressed out, worn out, tired, annoyed, peeved, and ready to have my family back.  We are done living with his parents.  We are done being treated like kids.  We have our own kid(s).  We are not borrowing any more money and we are not doing what the rest of them want to do just because the rest of them have lots of money and make all the plans.  We are starting our traditions.  We are going on our vacations.  We are starting our lives.  Our independent, don’t need no help, don’t want no help, we’ll tell you if we want your opinion, lives.

Big.  Long.  Sigh. 

Hi, I am Jennifer.  I am a wife.  I am a mother.  I’m a daughter, a sister, a granddaughter, a friend, an enemy, a nurse, a loony tune.  A person.  I don’t like unsolicited advice, especially about how I should feel and especially about how to parent or deal with my child.  I love freedom of speech and opinions, unless you don’t respect mine and try to impress yours.  If you can’t respect our differences don’t talk to me.

I am here.  I matter.  And right now I need to start protecting myself and mine.

PS – May 22 marks 15 years since my Dad passed away.  It sucks.  And it’s not helping my mood right now.

**Regular light hearted posting to return imminently when I read this post later and feel incredibly embarrassed that I wrote it, and incredibly angry I just didn’t say what I wanted to say.  Tootles!

28th birthy-day

A few really great things happened today:

1. I turned 28, an age nine year old Me was certain was a very grown up and sophisticated age to be. 
2. I FINISHED clinicals.  No more Jennifer Welch, UTSN (student nurse).  Soon it will be Jennifer Welch, RN.  How freaking cool!
3. Our lease officially began.  We have the keys and enough furniture to fill up one room in this place.   Sounds like a challenge to me.
4. I finished finalizing my group Community Health Paper.  I’ve worked way too much on this.  Officially emailed it to everyone at 11:59 pm but hey, it’s done.
5. No one died while under my care today.  Given the CRAZINESS that appeared to take over Houston as evidenced by everyone who walked into the hospital, this is a great accomplishment and a nice way to end my student nurse career.

Since Avelyn was born three days after my birthday and three days before Kevin’s birthday, we sort of glossed over our birthday’s last year.  It’s taken me a whole 12 months to not say I’m 26 when asked how old I am.  Last year we celebrated with a joint cake on Kevin’s birthday and we looked like [OMG-I-can’t-believe-I’m-showing-this-hideous-picture-but-at-least-it’s-not-the-worst-I-looked-that-week] this.  Yeah that’s right, we look like two hollow eyed, dead on their feet, walking zombie new parents.  I won’t even tell you how long it took me to walk down the stairs to pose for this picture and eat two bites of that damn cheese cake.  What is behind those hollow zombie eyes you ask?  Pain.  Pain is behind them.  And pure hatred for whoever is taking this photograph.

No big celebrations were had today but hey, at least I didn’t have my cervix checked this year.  A birthday without a hand up your hoo-hoo is a birthday celebrated right.

Here’s to a great 28th year of life.

Today was a good day…

Today was one of those days, not SUPER DUPER GREAT! not ughhhhh, not bad.  Just really good.  And looooong.  It was clinical 9 of 12 for this semester and my last day working with the nurse I’ve been working with since January.  She has been an amazing preceptor and I am thankful for such a good clinical. 

I have gotten to see a lot and DO a lot more.  We’ve had some very interesting patients, some really great patients, a precipitous delivery (the baby’s HEAD was between her legs when we pulled back the covers), lots of IV’s, foley caths, SVE’s, and lots and lots and lots of fetal monitoring.  I learned how to read strips, identify bad situations and what to do with the patient, how to assess and care for the baby after birth, how to care for the family after birth, saw a placental abruption at 31 weeks, a cerclage placement for a bulging back at 17 weeks, briefly cared for a mom after a miscarriage, and took care of many wonderful women week after week.  I loved it.  I have three more days to work this week (with the nurse who delivered Avelyn last year!) and then I am finished.  My “Student Nurse” job will be OVER.  I will never have to work in a hospital for FREE again.  The next time I put on scrubs will be as a Graduate Nurse when I start my job in June.  And I will be making money.  Lots and lots of money.  Well, lots and lots in comparison to making NOTHING for the last year and half.  Wow.

The highlight of my day, well my whole clinical actually, was getting a visit from a patient we delivered about three weeks ago, a wonderful couple who had a beautiful baby girl.  (By the way Heather – the mom is the spitting image of you, only taller and not named Heather.)  I had a particularly great time taking care of this family.  After a birth plan that didn’t go so well (NOTE TO READERS: DON’T go to the hospital with a birth plan in writing, you are only setting yourself up for great disappointment if/when it doesn’t work out) I tried so very hard to care for them in the way I wanted to be cared for at my birth.  The doctor who delivered her was kind of an ass and I just rolled with the punches to try and give the patient what she wanted. 

We only got to talk for a minute or two before we had to get back to work but I was so taken aback and appreciative that they remembered me.  I can’t tell you how amazing it is to be present for a baby’s birth, to watch as that baby enters this world and see pure JOY wash over the parents faces.  Especially with first time parents.  I tear up at every birth and have to try really hard not to cry every time.  This couple was so sweet and thanked my nurse and I repeatedly for our care.  I don’t need to hear that from patients, I treat everyone the same regardless, but it really makes me feel good and let’s me know I’m doing something right.  And I try so hard to do something right.

Anyway, they wrote my nurse and I the sweetest notes and brought us a fabulous and thoughtful thank you gift.  I think I will keep that note tucked away for a long, long time.  It was a great day.

(Mmm, chocolates.  And do you see that?  That’s right, it’s MONOGRAMMED.  And has a zipper so my stuff won’t fly around everywhere in my bag.  How cool is that?  And how did they know?  I LOVE it!)

PS - in case you were wondering, I accepted the Pediatric ER job and not because more people voted for PICU.  But because I think I will learn a lot, do a lot, see a lot and hope to make a difference in somebody’s life.

PPS – did anyone else notice how close that little avatar baby under the header is to the ONE YEAR MARK?  7 days, 15 hours and 52 minutes until you-know-who’s FIRST BIRTHDAY!!

Last but not least - - -

Congratulations to Wendellynn for winning the family 4-pack to Disney on Ice!! 

I’ll contact you with the details this weekend.  Thank you to everyone for entering!

Movin’ on up

Oh my, what a week.  I’m feeling whelmed in both the good and bad sense of the word.  Did you know we found a house to rent in San Antonio?  Well, we found a house to rent in San Antonio!  It’s wonderful, huge, in a great GATED neighborhood.  It has a backyard, an Avelyn room, a Mom and Dad room, a guest room (this term used loosely since we have no extra mattress and I’m not a huge fan of house guests), a playroom (or dining room), an office, a big kitchen, a huge pantry, a 2 car garage, 2 bathrooms, a washer, dryer and lawn mower, a HUGE master closet, dozens of other closets, a covered patio, a fireplace… I’m leaving something important out.  Oh, it doesn’t have an entryway.  It has a “gallery”.  That’s what it’s called on the floor plan, a gallery.  Don’t that soun’ all sofistikated y’all?  “Oh Visitor Friend!  SO nice of you to stop by!  Won’t you please make your way through the GALLERY and join me on the settee in the parlour.”  Adding the ‘u’ to a word really makes it sparkle.  It’s like living in some exotic land like Wales or Canada. 

So that’s the first piece of good news.  The second is I PASSED THE HESI!  I didn’t blow it out of the water but I scored above what I needed to score to pass and am now eligible to graduate.  Whew!  What a load off.  Of course there are still papers to write, exams to pass, clinicals to finish, asses to kiss…  Also the fact that I never ordered my graduation “regalia” (who comes up with these words!?) because a) I forgot and then b) I didn’t want to on principle.  Why should I pay that much money for something I will wear for 2 hours?  Why don’t you have a rental plan???  Sigh.  I’m thisclose to purchasing another one online and hoping it won’t stand out to much.  Although even if it does I’m toying with the idea of waltzing across the stage, grabbing my diploma and then doing the Michael Jackson crotch pull while yelling at the top of my lungs “Suck it SON!  I bought this here regalia for a third of what you paid.  Shut yo’ FACE!”  Still haven’t decided, too much maybe?

Oy.  The bad part about graduation is it’s elevated level of importance.  I don’t like the attention a graduation ceremony entails.  I am not an attention whore. I  don’t get turned on or revved up by people fawning over me or my accomplishments, droning on and on, asking question after question, giving me gifts I didn’t want or ask for… I don’t need any of that.  I need Kevin and Avelyn to be there.  That’s pretty much it although I would like for our parents and my grandparents and my brother or sister if they wanted to come.  (That’s right Stephanie, because I have been too busy to call or write but since I know you read this blog even though you NEVER COMMENT YOU BAD BLOG READER! You should know you are invited to come if you want to.)  We’re planning on early dinner, graduation and HOME since Hobo needs her beauty rest.

And that’s it, just those people mentioned above.  Nobody else.  Nobody.  I wonder if that’s too subtle.  And no I will not remove this statement because if you will recall an earlier post from a mere two weeks ago (just two weeks!?) this is my blog and I can say whatever I want on my blog.  Even though out of respect for my husband and THE REST OF MY MARRIED LIFE I usually don’t.  See, I’m not even saying it now.  Anyway, if you will recall:

“…My therapist and friendapist both said the same thing – I should quit feeling guilty about my FEELINGS.  They’re MY feelings and it’s how I FEEL so I am allowed to FEEL this way dammit.”

Well, my FEELINGS are feeling like they don’t want anyone else to ruin MY day.  So I get to set the rules.  (Please stay tuned for the post-graduation post where I will proceed to angrily relive the inevitable breaking of these rules in order to keep family peace.  Because clearly my feelings do not matter much of the time.)

A very dramatic ANYWAY… Tonight I sit here thinking how freaking scared I am to graduate from nursing school with the implication I somehow know what to do to take care of people.  I mean I just spent two years in nursing school, shouldn’t I know more about how to nurse?!  (Hmm, note to Self: Look into whether being unable to successfully nurse your first born child is related to being unable to be a good nurse.  Kidding, Self.  Get a sense of humor already.)  Out of the 160 questions on the HESI I must have stared dumbfounded at 155 of them wondering in what universe I was supposed to have been taught this.  Whaaaaaa?  H-E-A-R-T?  What is a heart?  Do I have it?  Am I coming down with ‘heart’? IS THERE A CURE?  AAAAGGGGHHHHHH!!!!  Oh wait, that heart?

I am leaving for San Antonio first thing after Community Hellth clinical tomorrow.  We are getting Avelyn’s first birthday pictures and our first family pictures on Saturday.  We’re just going to the cruddy ol’ portrait studio for now because we don’t have the money to get the kind of pictures I want but we will do it sometime this year.  Hopefully we will have good weather and can get out of the house and have a family day at the park or something.  That reminds me, I can’t wait for April 15th when our lease starts and we can start the slow move in.  Do you understand the significance of this move?  Do you?  It means a house, not an apartment that shares walls with noisy neighbors.  It means living together, just the three of us for the FIRST time in twenty one months.  It means walking around in our underwear if we want to, just because.  It means freedom, independence, the ability to raise my daughter without being questioned and lectured about every cough, sneeze, out of place hair follicle, no matter how well meaning it may be.  It means not having to watch Fox News, heck not having the TV on 56 hours a day, being able to wake up at 7:30am with my baby and spend time alone with her, just me and her.  Above all it means all the mistakes, decisions, sacrifices and prayers have been worth it and we can start being the family I want us to be.

Topic Tuesday (on Friday)

Truth #1,247 – I’m jealous of stay at home moms. Like, a lot. And I have a ton of questions that I would love to hear your opinions on. If you’re a working parent, a SAH parent, a part time working/SAH, or don’t have kids at all I want to hear from you.

For one, I don’t understand how these families do it. What must their husbands do to support a growing family, especially in today’s economy? Who are these men that fully support and even encourage their wives staying home? Do any of them secretly wish it were 1950 and think it’s the woman’s “responsibility”? Kevin never supported the idea of me staying at home when we had kids. It was one of my biggest anxiety inducing discussions because growing up, in between wanting to be a doctor, a nurse and a professional Sonic roller girl, I always wanted to be at home with my kids.

Our particular situation evolved from a million different circumstances. For one, all the women in Kevin’s family have college educations, many of them at the graduate level and he could not imagine his wife not being educated and working too. Second, neither of my parents had a college education and pushed it’s importance from a very young age. Third, my dad died when I was thirteen and without an education and no work experience (having stayed home with 3 kids) my mother was virtually unemployable. I never, ever want to be in a situation where I cannot support myself and I NEVER want to depend on someone else to support me.

When Kevin and I got married we made decisions (not every one of those decisions were together I would say) that resulted in a big mess of financial burdens. It started like this: getting married in TX-moving to Chicago-incurring Chicago cost of living via student loans and financial death (credit cards)-moving to home of financial death and unemployment (NY)-moving back to TX-starting school all over again-incurring more student loans-living in different cities-having a baby. Now more than ever there is no way I could stay home.

There is also no way for me to accurately describe how I feel about working/not working because it’s the never ending picket fence I straddle every day. I LOVE that I’m going to be a nurse because I love the nursing profession. I am passionate about caring for people who are sick, especially children; it’s not just a job for me. But, I LOVE Avelyn more than anything and I hate that I don’t stay home with her. So before we get to the part where I’m looking forward to hearing from you, here is something I’ve wanted to say about my situation for a long time…

It’s hard for me to talk about my life and be really honest about it. Because when I talk about my life (making the decision to move Avelyn 200 miles away, or putting her in daycare, or starting my career) and people say things like “I don’t know how you do that… I could NEVER do that… I could NEVER let someone else watch my kids… I would DIE if I had to work and let a stranger watch my kids…” what you’re saying can sometimes make us working moms feel like you think you’re a better mom, that you love your child more because you stay home. And I know you don’t mean to imply that, but that’s how it came come across. To me anyway. It doesn’t help that those feelings are already at the surface because no one makes me feel more guilty than myself. That’s what I love about blogging, I find people all over the world that I can relate to, something I can’t always find in real life. Amanda, Sarah, Stefany, do you guys ever feel this way?

Well now that I’m off my soapbox let’s get back to the juicy stuff. I want to hear from you! Before you comment, keep in mind that there is no way any of us can understand each other’s situations and there is definitely no room to judge. That being said, let’s dish!

First, let us know who you are - working mom/dad, SAHM/SAHD, childfree, single, married?

For the stay at home crowd:

Is your staying at home a choice? (AKA did you decide or does your partner insist on you staying home?)

Does it cause any tension between you and your partner, not bringing in your “own” money?

How do you do it?

Are you ever jealous of the other side?

Do you have to pinch your pennies or do you make enough to keep afloat without living month-to-month?

Even if you love your situation are there days when you just can’t take it anymore? What do you do?

When do you get a break?

Do any of you husbands ever resent the fact that your wife stays home or doesn’t bring home a paycheck?

If you were able to live on the other side of the work/home fence for a month, what would you love to do?

If you’re a SAH mom or dad, when did you have the discussion to make this decision? Was your partner supportive from the get go or did it take some time?

Do you ever regret your decision? Do you secretly think your partner does?

And for all you working parents out there:

Which one of you works and what do you do?

How do you do it everyday?

Who watches your children?

Is your decision to work based on finances, fulfillment (you don’t have to work but you love it), sole providership?

Does your working outside the home cause tension? (does your partner think you should stay at home)

When did you two discuss your work/at home options? Before/after the birth of your child?

How do you really feel about the other side? (the stay at home parents)

How do you feel when your SAH friends say things like “I don’t know how you do that… I could NEVER let someone else watch my kids…”

Anything else you want to say…?

I hope you find this topic interesting and will be honest and let us all in on your daily life. This is a controversial topic and there is NO right or wrong answer. I just want it to be informative, eye opening and fun.

**Update** Always nice to know other people are thinking the same things you are!

If he only had a brain, a heart, a….

8:55 pm :: Avelyn is 11 months old today. I’ve missed her 10 and 11 month “birthdays” now. I know in the grand scheme of things it’s not that big of a deal but I hate missing it! It feels like yet another tiny failure. Oy. I can’t be blogging. I have an exam Tuesday that I have to do well on. The first one didn’t go so hot. Kevin took pictures of Avelyn today and should be sending some soon! I’ll take a break then and try not to think about them while I work or I’ll never finish.

10:35pm :: I don’t understand men. Why are they so freaking clueless? Avelyn doesn’t live with me anymore. I don’t get to cradle her while she eats or rock her to sleep or wake up to that soft sweet baby smell everyday. I don’t see her smile when I talk to her on the phone. He does. And he didn’t remember to send me pictures of her 11 month birthday. He remembered to take them, but he couldn’t remember to send them. To me, her mother. Who doesn’t live with her anymore.

We clearly live in different worlds and speak different languages. I thought when he said “I think the best ones are probably the ones from this morning. Those are probably the ones I’ll send you” that he would be sending me pictures. Evidently I misunderstood. I guess my complex multi-tasking woman brain allowed me to make logical assumptions that a silly putty-esque man brain wouldn’t put together on his own.

Man, I have SO much training to do.

Courtesy Google Images

**UPDATE** Maybe I don't always come across as funny as I think I am being when I write pretty much every post I write. I guess that's the problem with words on paper, or a screen in this case but for the record, 99% of the time I (think I) write things in a way that tries to make light. Even things I'm totally serious about, it's usually with a sarcastic twist. So stop your worrying and your fussing and don't hurt your lily white knees dropping to the floor to pray for my soul. I'm okay. We're okay. I'm a good person with a skewed view of the world just trying to find my way. If it makes you feel better you can trust in the fact that I pretty much never say what I really want to say because your heads would all explode and I'd lose my readers and I don't want to do that. Also I don't deal well with confrontation and I like my psyche to be in one piece.

I quit Prozac.

In January.  And the old me finally came RAGING back.  I’m refamiliarizing myself with this person on a day-to-day minute-by-minute basis.  I like her.  I missed her and her funny sense of pissed-offness.  I want to try to “integrate” her with Prozac Jenn.  Prozac Jenn was too subdued, too emotionally leveled, too buried all by herself.  She needs Angsty Jenn.  Together they could make a really confident, balanced, amazing woman.

I would like to write about the emotional roller coaster of real honest to goodness feelings I’m having again, something you don’t have often on antidepressants.  But I don’t have the time and I don’t feel like writing a super sappy sounding post.  I’m busy APA formatting a paper on Autism/Asperger’s.  (Can’t you tell?)  So instead I will summarize my experience as follows:

I had Post Partum Depression.  I cried a lot.  I thought I might die.  I imagined Avelyn dying.  I thought I was letting her down.  I knew I was letting myself down.  I knew I had a problem.  I got help.  Therapy + Drugs = Saving.  I started feeling better.  I learned I’m not to blame.  I learned it’s not my fault.  I learned I’m not responsible for anyone but me and her.  At some point I started feeling nothing.  I didn’t like feeling nothing.  I wanted to cry if I felt sad and yell if I felt angry and feel happy if I was happy.  I didn’t want to live in a dense fog of nothingness and not be able to form thoughts about what I wanted to say.  I wasn’t depressed anymore so I weaned off the drugs.  It was weird.  Now I’m feeling a lot.

So anyway, that drug saved me and if you’ll recall I am a nurse which means I believe in drugs when they are medically necessary and used judiciously.  But now the old me is back.  With gusto and angst, a pinch of sarcasm and a sprinkle of sardonicism.  Just regular old me.  I wonder if my Post Prozac (new) friends will like the old me as much as my Pre Prozac (old) friends do.  Hmm…

With that I leave you with a few tidbits that roll around up there on a some-more-regular-than-others basis:

The sound of you chewing is making me want to throw your food on the floor and rip your hair out.  Not necessarily in that order.

I can’t stand listening to you breathe.  My chest tightens, my hands clench and my heart races and I want to jump out of my chair and scream in your face “STOP BREATHING LOUDLY OR DON’T BREATHE AT ALL!!!!! EITHER LOSE SOME EFFING WEIGHT AND/OR STOP SMOKING SO YOU DON’T WHEEZE LIKE A FATASS COW!!!!!”  (My fake apologies to any of you [non-baby] loud breathers out there.)

Why are you here?  I clearly don’t want you here.  Don’t you see me tensing up and cringing in an involuntary defensive emotional response to your presence?   I’m trying to control it but it’s not working because I am having a visceral response to you.  My therapist and friendapist both said the same thing – I should quit feeling guilty about my FEELINGS.  They’re MY feelings and it’s how I FEEL so I am allowed to FEEL this way dammit. 

Dumbass*.

More and more I find myself shutting my eyes tight and breathing deeply to avoid screaming and embarking on a murderous rampage since this particular behavior could be potentially hazardous, especially while driving.

Sometimes the sound of that voice makes me hate you.

Wow.  That feels good to get off my chest.  I feel like a weight has been lifted.  Welcome back Me. 

(“Now maybe back off the “Angsty” part a tad until these nice folks get to know you better.”  “Shut yo’ face!”)

*For Richey.  Even though he doesn’t read this blog.

Highlights/Lowlights

Whew.  This week has been a whirlwind.  I want to tell you about all the wild and crazy fun family things we did this week but we didn’t really do any of those.  We did have some regular fun family things we did a lot of.  Like playing on the floor, going out to eat, [window] shopping, me getting a job, making practice birthday cakes.  Oh yeah, I’ve been DEAD TO BLOGGING this week but ta da!

I GOT A JOB!

My interview on Monday went really well (clearly).  The Nurse Manager I interviewed with told me he had a few more candidates to talk to but that I sounded like I had all the qualities he was looking for and I really impressed him during the interview.  I was all, Uh duh Dude, but I bet you say that to all the interviewees and he was all, no way man, you totally rocked it so then I was like yeah, I know, I am FREAKING BAD ASS and he was like yeah, yeah you are.  Then he said HR would be contacting me in the coming weeks.  Exactly 3 hours and 21 minutes after I left the building HR called and told me the job was mine.  IN YO’ FACE all you other [alleged] interviewees!

So I’m supposed to wait for the head HR lady to call me on Monday with all the details.  I need to find out what the deadline to accept is, since I am still hoping to hear from a few more hospitals.  I would like to have a few offers and be able to choose the best one for me but honestly, all I wanted was ONE and I got it.  I think I would really love working in the Pedi ER and I would get to see a lot of stuff I might not see elsewhere.  I’m a little proud of myself so I’ll go ahead and say it,

GO ME!

We were supposed to go to the zoo with some friends on Wednesday but wouldn’t you know we got rained/winded/COLLLLLDED out.  What the hell Weather?  Every freaking year, huh?  Well at least you’re consistent.  The rest of our week went nice and slow and perfect but somehow it’s turned into Saturday and I don’t like it one bit.  Booooooo urns. 

Yesterday we took advantage of my cousin’s loaner house key and hung out at her place while she was out of town.  We needed to get out of the house.  Unfortunately it was 61 degrees inside since she was gone and we nearly froze our patooties off --- until we discovered the heart pounding, sweat inducing Holy Grail of my kind of video games AKA Guitar Hero.

Why had I never played this before?  Why am I always the last to come around and finally try something everyone else has been raving about and playing for years?  Sweet Mary’s Little Lamb that game is fun and might I most humbly say

I. AM. AWESOME. AT. IT.

No, really I am.  I kicked Weezer’s “My Name Is Jonas” ass and have a burning desire to play this game continuously until I hold top rank on every song on the playlist.  Granted we started on Easy level but if memory serves I did outplay Kevin pretty consistently.  He did better on a few songs but I think I totally rule overall.  (Dear Hubby, I so rarely win at anything please let me continue to believe this even if it is a totally false memory.  Thank you.)

A few of you on Facebook have already let me know that Rock Band should be played next and bought soon and very soon because, uh, it rocks.  I am looking forward to it.

Since I’ve been MIA for a while and I like to believe a few of you obsessively check the site bi-hourly for updates I thought I would pay you back with a Super Hobo fix and provide a teeniny glimpse of our week.

  

 

55 days to Momma’s graduation! 

(HOLY FREAKING COW!)

Quickies

Avelyn got her third tooth Tuesday, the upper left front tooth. You can't see it by just looking at her but she's tonguing it a lot.

I have a jobinterview on Monday. For a real job. A real nursing job. Moment of silence for Keanu... whoa.

I've settled on a theme for Avelyn's first birthday party! I'm not telling you yet, ANY of you, so don't ask. I don't want to spoil the surprise and I don't want any help! I have waited my whole life to plan my child's birthday party and it will be fantastic.  Oh, and I didn’t even steal ideas from Annalee or Carla’s fantastic first birthday bashes :)

I'm living at my grandparents house now until I graduate. It's hot here because they don't have central air and the window units don't blow cool air because it's too "cool" outside. Also if I opened the window to get some of this so-called "cool" air I risk two things: being arrested for the brutal murder of the damn wienie dog next door that won't shut up or being violated by a passing rapist in the night. This is Pasadena. It's almost a ghetto.

I'm on spring break next week and get to see Hobo for a full week! I also get to study for Community Health, study for High Acuity, study for the HESI exit exam so I can graduate, apply for more jobs and finish a ton of BS case studies.  Doesn’t my break sound fun?  At least it’s in keeping with every spring break I can remember since I had the ability to remember.  I’ve never done anything fun.  SPRING BREAKS BLOW.

I’m starting to exercise and eat healthier.  As of yesterday.  But I didn’t do either today.  Oops.  Guess we’ll start over again next week.

63 days to this! [again]

Poking them with needles wasn’t that bad

Friday
My first day working one-on-one with my preceptor on the Labor and Delivery unit.  It. Was. Awesome. I wished and hoped and prayed my preceptor would be nice and she is.  I hoped and prayed and wished I would get to see some births and practice some skills, and I did!  I prayed, wished and hoped I wouldn’t feel like a total nincompoop idiot and I didn’t… well maybe once or twice I did.  I’ll say it again in case you weren’t sure.  It. Was. AWESOME.

Birthdays: 1 female
Skills: 1 FC placement, 1 FC d/c, 1 blood draw, IVPB’s, 1 SVE and everyone’s favorite… learning Leopold’s maneuvers
Best line of the day: “Breastfeeding women everywhere would kill to have your nipples!”

Monday
Worked in triage hoping to get some skills under my belt.  I did.  Had a great time with my preceptor, another nurse friend from school I didn’t know well before today and the nurse who delivered Avelyn!

Birthdays: no precipitous births in triage!
Skills: 3 IV’s (my 1st!), 2 blood draws, setting up and reading fetal monitor strips, got to see ferning and other random stuff
Best line of the day: “Just be really careful, you don’t want that to squirt all over you.”

That’s about all I have to write about tonight.  I am so tired from working all day, feeling guilty about not studying, freaking out about packing this whole place by myself by Friday (while having all day class Tuesday and Thursday) and missing Avelyn. 

I’m really, really, really, really tired tonight.

In a nutshell, L&D is awesome.  I love it.  I want to work here.  Forever and forever.  Did I mention I also love hospitals?  Always have, I’m a freak.  This is where I’m meant to be.

Also, if you are in Houston I might be willing to provide sustenance and libations in exchange for help packing this week and/or loading a moving truck on Friday.

73 days until

Momma’s graduation!

Tell her about it

I will be the first to admit that in the past I have stood in plenty of lines rolling my eyes thinking God, lady. Can’t you do this some other time? I could have been through this line 4 times already. You’ve got all day to run your stupid errands and I’m on a 30 minute lunch break. Don’t even think about denying that you haven’t done it. We’ve all been there. We’ve all wondered what those mothers do and judged them accordingly. Then, some of us had kids.

I want to you close your eyes (well, keep one eye cracked so you can read the next few lines) and think back. Back to a time before you had children. Can you remember that far back? Can you remember a time of deadlines and paychecks and meetings and real world jobs? Beds that get slept in for longer than 3 hour stretches? Saturday mornings that involved sleeping and only sleeping at 6:30am? I have a vague recollection of life BC (Before Children). Heck, some of you are still there.

While catching up on one of my favorite bloggers, I came across a great post today. I think it applies to mothers everywhere, not only SAHM’s. When I’m on break I’m a SAHM. I don’t do anything but focus on Avelyn. When I’m in school I have to split my time between her and school and work/clinical. Trust me, neither situation is easier than the other and they both demand the same amount of time. For me personally, the only difference is the amount of guilt involved.

Well, as I was reading this article from a post, my mind was racing. I was getting all up on my high horse wanting to punch Ms. Child-Free from Tacoma, WA in the kisser and tell her to stick it where the sun don’t shine. I was cheering on Newspaper Lady screaming Yes! Yes! You tell her Newspaper Lady! I had so many emotions I didn’t know what to do. Should I email it to all my mom friends? Should I post it to Facebook? Nah, I will blog it of course!

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I just loved Newspaper Lady’s description of a mother’s life. Any mother’s life. Work inside or outside the home, it doesn’t matter. When you become a mother your entire life changes. Justlikethat. And nobody, nobody, but another mother, can ever understand that change.

I guess I said all that to say this – let’s all put down our Hammer o’ Judgment. Next time you feel compelled to ask yourself what in the world your mom friends could possibly do with all that “free time” just take a deep breath… and then reach alllllllll the way around and kick yourself in the ass. Kidding. Just remember that we’re all different. We are (mostly) all working hard at whatever we’ve chosen to do no matter what or where that takes place. I have never met anyone who appreciates assumptions being made about their life. That being said I will be so bold as to assume you don’t appreciate that either.

Now, with all of that being said, isn’t my Hobo and her guardian angel amazing?

75 days to Mommas graduation!