Thursday, January 24, 2013

Downtime


Hey Peeps—

Have you ever been out running errands in your favorite pair of jeans, when all the sudden you realize they aren’t fitting like they used to?  I’m going to put this bluntly people, so try not to be offended.  The cold hard truth is my butt isn’t holding up like it used to.  I came home and decided to put them at the bottom of my drawer.  Then I went out and ran several miles.

I’m having a bit of an identity crisis at the moment.  At one point today, I was my own hairdresser, and trimmed my bangs. That never goes quite like I want.   Later in the day I actually pulled a recipe off the internet, as if I enjoyed cooking, and then opened an email from my mom that had cute pictures of baby animals with witty sayings.  It was at that point I think I hit rock bottom.  Wait, no, I think my lowest point was discovering I have a huge butt.

Billy’s been working from home quite a bit lately, so that’s a nice distraction when I get bored and need him to make me some coffee or replace the children’s bathroom sink.  He’s had an awful wicked bug for the last 24 hours, and without violating his HIPPA rights, all I will say is that if swimsuit season started tomorrow, he’d be ready.  I thought about trying to use my new nursing license by giving him a head to toe assessment, then finding out his pain scale, following up with questions about his hydration status.  But as I laid on the couch, I thought, “If I give him free nursing care, everyone is going to expect that”.  Sometimes you have to establish healthy boundaries right from the start.

Anyway, all that to say things are weird around here.  The kids are back in school, I’ve passed my nursing boards, and all I am doing is puttering around here while waiting around to get a job.  And that doesn’t mean I’m not looking.  Every day I spend quite a bit of time scouring the internet, looking at job opportunities, and applying wherever I can.  If I want to move to North Dakota or Pennsylvania, I’m guaranteed a job.  Billy says I’d freeze in both places, so I guess those options are out.  I’m not giving up however.  I’ve made several calls and sent emails.  I’ve tasted rejection, which in turn has led me to chocolate, which might be part of the aforementioned problem (aka: my huge butt) 

My sister and I were texting briefly this morning, and she reminded me that when she became a nurse, it took her a few months to get a job too.  It was comforting to hear that, and helped me to lower my expectations a little bit.  She also mentioned that I should think about getting a puppy to give me a purpose.  And if not a puppy, maybe a miniature pony.  Both very good ideas. 

If nothing else, this quiet season of life has given me time to be introspective.  After five minutes of solitude, I learned a valuable lesson about myself.  Sitting around thinking isn’t my thing.  I’m a doer, not a thinker.  I’ve always been that way, but especially now after two years of nursing school, my whole mind, body, and soul wants to constantly be on the go.  People keep telling me to relax, and enjoy some time off.  They’ve said “you deserve it, so just go celebrate”.   The problem is I just spent two years learning, and I’m afraid if I sit too long, I might start to forget everything I just learned.  Nursing skills are something you want to maintain, from what I hear.  You don’t want to be out of it long enough to forget what hole that the tubes go in or come out. You don’t want to forget how much oxygen a person should be on, or how to administer medications.   Nursing is precise and important, and I’m excited to be out there using my newfound knowledge, as well as gaining skills. 

But life doesn’t always give us what we want, does it?  Sometimes we have to sit on the sidelines and be patient.  This is hard to do, in a world that tells me if I don’t have a title, than I’m not very important.  It’s a lie I know I’ve bought into once or twice, or a hundred times.  So for as long as God wants, I will try to be content in the waiting, and trust that the right job will come along at the perfect time.  Until then I will run as many miles as it takes to wear my favorite jeans again.  Maybe I’ll volunteer at the kids’ school, or volunteer for hospice.  Maybe I’ll even step up and make some chicken noodle soup for my poor Billy.  No matter what I do, I will wait with anticipation knowing that story for me has already been written, and the plans for me are good. 





Friday, January 4, 2013

Lucky #13


Hey Peeps—

Listen, if you are feeling bad about yourself, I have a word of advice.  You need to watch “Hoarders, Buried Alive” at 2 am.  I’m not generally up that late, but thanks to a miserable head cold, last night was enlightening.  Watching other people hoarding things like hats, and cats, and other sundries, to the point of not being able to sleep on their own bed, reminded me that things at my house are really not all that bad.  It also got me thinking about that thimble collection my mom started for me as a kid, and made me happy that I never acquired more than 10 thimbles, unless you count multiple Monopoly games.  Then I probably had something like 12, hardly an obsession, thank you. 

No, life isn’t bad at all.  Here we are, at the cusp of a new year, 2013, and it seems we aren’t going to be falling off a fiscal cliff after all.  I’m embarrassed to say I have no idea what that even means.  Judge me if you want, but I’ve been busy being a wife, mother, and recent graduate from Nursing School.  We’ve also just come through the big holidays of the year, and having 3 kids home all day really distracts me from being an active member of society.  And this weekend marks the last big celebration of our Christmas Break—Jack’s 13th birthday!

Somehow we’ve begun a tradition a few years back where Jack invites about 8 or 9 kids to come here, have pizza, and then go to a movie.  I try to keep my involvement in the party to a minimum.  My job is to supply food, drinks, movie tickets, then send them on their way.  This is the part that involves Billy extensively.  He loads up the car with children and they drive a mile to the theater.  Then for the next three hours, he is wracked with panic and fear over topics such as, “Who just went to the bathroom, and why is the buddy system failing me?” and “How to say sorry to the elderly gentleman in front of us, for spraying root beer in his hair”.   He also counts the children constantly, as he learned that tactic the hard way, while on a kindergarten field trip. Trust me, even 13 year old children need to be counted. 

This year the big birthday bash feels different for a few reasons.  First of all, Jack is officially a teenager now.  We used to talk about this day when Jack was a baby, and laugh about how old we’d be when he was 13.  It’s not funny anymore.  He’s only 3 years away from driving and 5 years away from graduating high school—if things go as planned of course. Another reason this party feels different is simply the demographics of the group.  I’m talking girls here.  He invited 3 of them.  Fortunately they are all very sweet and innocent, but there’s definitely something brewing under that lid of his.  He’s beginning to notice the ladies, and he’s liking what he sees.  He also doesn’t seem to understand how to use AXE body spray properly.  Let’s just say he’s believes in using it liberally. 

In 13 short years, things sure have changed a lot.  I remember watching the Columbine tragedy unfold when I had barely been pregnant a month.  Jack wasn’t even 2 when 9/11 happened, and as the years have passed, our world seems to keep moving deeper and farther away from peace, harmony, and love. This is not the world I envisioned raising kids in.  I want something different, and I know I’m not alone.  I can’t change the history or events that have occurred in his short life, but I can help him to be the kind of person that loves and accepts others.  The kind of person that sees someone hurting and steps in to help.  The kind of person that has the potential to change the world for the better with his positive energy, joyful spirit, and tender heart.   Lucky for us, Jack’s already on his way to becoming the kind of person that blesses others.  He has a solid Foundation, with roots that extend into the very soul of his being.  Sure, he’s a mess, and he’s got his issues, but this mom is proud.  And today I’m thanking God for 13 life-changing years.