I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas.  I feel like I've been in a blender, going 100 miles an hour since  this time last week. It's hard to believe that Christmas 2005 is behind us and we're getting ready to start a brand new year.

I think I've mentioned before how much joy Austin has brought into my life since his birth in 1998. When I learned that I was pregnant with him I thought my life was over. He was definitely unplanned! Many times people have remarked to me that he must have been a mistake. Sadly, I must admit that when I learned of his existence, I, too, thought of him as a mistake. All I could do was cry when I got the news. I cried and I cried and then I cried some more. I could not understand why God had thought it a good thing for me to have another baby at my age and my stage of life.  I guess I cried for about 4 months. Then, on ultrasound, I saw this little miracle of life growing inside of me and I saw that tiny little heart beating and I fell in love. Then, and don't ask me why this was one of my first thoughts, but I thought of how much fun Christmas would be again! My kids were all grown up and for the most part the "magic" had gone out of Christmas. Here was a fresh little believer and I was happy about that. From the moment of his birth, he's been a true blessing in my life. He has been the reminder of what is truly important in life. He was the very thing I needed and didn't know that I needed. So, when people say to me now, "He must have been a mistake". I just smile and say, "No, he wasn't a mistake. A mistake is something that you wish had never happened. He was a surprise! A surprise is a gift you receive that you didn't even know that you wanted." And that is exactly what he has been for me.  Which leads me to some reflections on this Christmas...

I get into Christmas in a big way. I love the shopping, even though I grumble about the stress of it all. I wouldn't trade shopping for my kids at Christmas for anything. I shop until I think I'm done, and then I shop some more. I go overboard, I admit, but I love surprising my kids with things that I know they want or need but never ask for.  I have always wrapped everything that "Santa" brings. I wrap for hours after everyone is in bed. Then I stash it carefully!  I make sure to use different wrapping paper for "Santa" than I do for the other Christmas gifts. My husband usually goes to bed before I do on Christmas Eve. I love being the only one up in a quiet house with the tree glowing in all it's glory. The joy I get from bringing in all those  wrapped Santa gifts and putting them under the tree is a joy that I wouldn't trade for all the tea in China.  It's one of the true pleasures in my life. The kids have usually slept like logs on Christmas Eve, but not me! I'm the most excited of the group. I just simply can't wait for morning, when I can put the Christmas morning breakfast casserole in the oven, make the coffee and wait for the sleepy faces to show up under the tree. To me, it's one of the greatest things about being a parent; that deal that I have with Santa Claus!

My older kids have found a new enthusiasm for Christmas because of Austin. They are so into it with him. They love spoiling him and surprising him. They tell me that their Christmas is made by watching him and remembering how it felt when they were his age. They don't care if they get a thing from Santa anymore. His joy has become their joy as well. But as long as I have breath in my body, Santa will bring their Christmas gifts on Christmas Eve while they're sleeping, even if they're sleeping in their own homes!

I finally had to wake Austin up this year at 9:30!! I couldn't contain myself any longer. The look on that child's face as he walked into the family room and saw the spectacle of red and white striped paper was absolutely priceless. We all sat watching him open his gifts with the goofiest smiles on our faces. Everyone elses presents went unopend. This will most probably be the last year that Austin totally believes in Santa. We reveled in the magic that is Christmas.

Patrick got Austin his own set of golf clubs. To play with him a little, Patrick got a little box and wrapped up about 8 of his old dirty golf balls. Patrick thought he would think it was a dirty trick and it would be funny. But just to show you how appreciative Austin is he opend those dirty old balls and said with such sweetness, "Thanks, Patrick!". So much for trickery. He was truly thankful for the golf balls! Imagine his face when Patrick brought in his own golf bag with golf clubs! It was priceless. After opening all of his gifts, which took quite a while, he stood in the middle of the wrapping paper and toys and said, "I wasn't THIS good!". My heart melted and ran down my cheeks. Yes, this child,this surprise, is one of the most wonderful gifts I've ever received. There was someone missing around our tree this year, it hurt, and it hurt deeply, but I have to believe that one day she will be back and Christmas can once again be complete. But, on a bright note, we had a new official family member this year in Bennie, my daughter Sarah's husband. He's been around for a long time, but this year he is officially one of us. I couldn't love him more if he were my own child. And then Patrick has Amber this year. What a gift she has been. I dearly love this girl. She feels like one of us already. He is madly in love with her and vice versa. To see this wonderful girl making my son so happy and so obviously in love with him has been my favorite gift this Christmas. (maybe next Christmas there will be a diamond ring!!!).

And now we get ready to start a brand new year. May it be filled with hope for everyone.  I have to believe that it will.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I have just enough energy left to wish you all a Merry Christmas.

May you find, at least for a fleeting moment, that child within you that believes with your whole heart.

  Patrick and Austin had taken off for Grandma's. Jimmy was upstairs getting ready to go Christmas shopping with me (there was some odd lineup of planets yesterday!), and I was quietly going over my shopping list. Tucker, my beautiful, devoted furry Golden was lying at my feet asleep.The house was so quiet that you could have heard a mouse peeing on cotton.  That's when I heard it and felt the world come to a screeching halt.

  What did I hear? I heard the jingle bells on my Christmas tree jingle. Then I heard pine needles falling on wrapped gifts under the tree. OH MY GOSH!!!! WHAT IN THE WORLD MADE THOSE JINGLE BELLS JINGLE?  Jimmy walked into the room less than one second after this happened and I asked, "Did you hear THAT? Well, of course, he didn't! He asked me what I heard. When I told him, I got that look that parents get on their faces when their children tell them about aliens that abducted them in the middle of the  night while we were sleeping. He walked over and touched my forehead to see if I had a fever, patted me on my shoulder like one would do with a demented old maid Aunt and asked me if I was ready to go.  

 Now, I guess this is where I should tell you that I have an inordinate fear of mice. I have never met another person in my life that is more afraid of a mouse than I am. To me there is no distinction at all between being thrown into a room of lions or tigers, or bears, or mice. They are all just the same to me. Is this silly and unreasonable as I've been told? Hell NO!  

 So, Jimmy looks up at me where I'm standing on the chair and asks calmly if I'm ready to go!

I mean it people, the man was just going to walk out of our house and leave that vile specimen of wildlife to have it's way in MY HOUSE! Well, let me tell you, that was NOT going to happen! I instructed him that he must go into the garage and get mouse traps. I told him that he must set every mouse trap we had in the family room and kitchen. He laughed at me! Yes, he laughed at me. He tried to convince me that I had not heard what I knew that I had heard. He asked me when I had ever heard of a mouse being in a Christmas tree making jingle bells jingle. As calmly as I could, with my voice cracking and my eyes filled with tears I described again exactly what I had heard. He still didn't believe me but he knew that I wasn't coming down off of that chair unless and until he did something that involved mousetraps. So, he did what any sane man with a hysterical wife standing  on a chair would do, he went into the garage and got a mouse trap. He prepared it with peanut butter and set it behind the Christmas tree. He then put Tucker in the kennel so he wouldn't get caught in the trap while we were gone. I ran, and I do mean RAN out of the house.  

 It took me an hour of shopping to forget about the wild creature ravaging my home. Every time I mentioned it, he would give me that sympathetic pat on my shoulder and mutter something very patronizing. He still didn't believe me.   Four hours later we returned home. I, of course, made him come in the house first and make sure it was safe. I stood in the hallway scared to death. He came back with this funny look on his face and said, "You were right, there was something in the tree. The trap was set off but it got away." IT GOT AWAY? IT GOT AWAY? How can this be happening?  I have to LIVE in this house!! I cannot LIVE in this house with wild creatures inside! Jimmy  let Tucker out of his kennel and he immediately ran to the tree, nose to the ground sniffing. He sniffed all over the hearth and around several pieces of furniture. Then he meandered to the kitchen and settled himself on the floor for a nap (the dog, not Jimmy). He reset the trap and went to change his clothes. And where was I while he was doing this? Standing in the hallway with my coat still on and packages still in my arms, with tears in my eyes, wondering how I was  going to sell this house and be in a new mouse-free one by Christmas.  

 It's now 14 hours later. Jimmy and Patrick had the nerve to go to work today and leave me here.  Tucker and I are the only ones in the house. Well, I guess that's not entirely true, we are the only ones in the house that are supposed to be here. I stayed in bed till noon, not sleeping!  I have to work today, thank goodness! I would really love to have lunch and something to drink before I leave, but since that would involve going to the back half of the house, that's not going to happen.  

I will be forever traumatized by the sound of jingle bells. Dammit!

So true it's scary!

I received the following in a nursing newsletter I get. I think it's hilarious and it's so true that it's scary. Enjoy.

Introduction:

Ah, such mysterious, wondrous creatures are nurses.  What treasures lurk
beneath those crisp white  uniforms  and what young man doesn't have
fantasies of discovering  those secrets for himself.

SCREEEEEECH.  Reality Check!

I've been married to a nurse for going on a quarter of  a century and
let me tell you nurses are not what you
expect and I don't even care what you expect because you  are wrong! 
Let's begin by tearing down some of the more  famous assumptions about
nurses right off the top.

The Nurse as Sex Kitten:

Anyone who lived through the early seventies or has made it a point to
rent such famous videos as "Night Duty Nurses" or "Student Nurses" or
"Night Duty Student Nurses" or any one of several dozen nurse-centric
skin flicks will be immediately struck by the fact that all nurses have
heaving bosoms, just millimeters away from popping out of skin tight
white uniforms. You will also learn that nurses always wear white
garters and hose and high heels.  This of course is a handy dress code
because movie nurses spend a lot of time hopping in and out of patient's
beds.
The reality is that most nurses wear scrubs, shapeless draping hunks of
cotton that could cause you to breeze past Pamela Anderson without a
second look.  Shoes are white clunky nursing shoes or sneakers with
blobs of things on them better left un-described.  Socks replace white
hose and garters and when is the last time anyone saw a nursing cap? 
Graduation perhaps?

Now as far as a nurse hopping into your bed to relieve your "problem." 
Get a life Bub!  If you aren't sick they don't have time to mess with
you and if you are sick, you probably look, feel and smell sick not to
mention, they have seen better.  I don't care how good looking you are,
they have seen better and it was probably a doctor making lots of money
or at least someone who didn't smell bad.

The Nurse as an Angel:

If you want to hear the latest gross jokes, just find a nurse.  Some
uninformed males seem to think of nurses as angelic creatures, demure
and loving... a cross between a nun and their Mom.  Well, hate to bust
your bubble, guy, but as a group nurses are some of the rawest gals you
will run into.  I don't care how sweet and demure they may look on the
outside, inside is someone who has seen things that would gag a maggot,
break your heart or drive a normal person nuts, so most nurses get a
very wicked sense of humor squarely lodged in the black to sick side of
the scale.  As I said above, nurses have almost always seen better and
that includes personal anatomy.  Any male foolish enough to think that
he ranks among the Gods when it comes to endowments will be quickly
dismayed to learn that his sweet little dear has seen MUCH better! 

Just bring the subject up and you will most likely hear about the head
injury case she saw in nursing school while holding up her arm and
grabbing her elbow with her hand to put things into scale.  If you think
your little Willie was king, well you're wrong!  In fact I've never met
a nurse that didn't have a BIG WILLIE story, so be forewarned.  Also, in
case you are looking for sympathy for the little boo-boo you had in the
shop, forget it!  Lets say as a typical male klutz you manage to saw
your finger off.  You go running to your nurse wife or girlfriend who is
on the  phone with a nurse friend of hers.  As she continues to talk to
her friend, she slaps a towel on your finger after giving the stub a
good eyeballing, takes out a baggy to put
the severed digit in, tells you to get some ice while she is explaining
to her friend that her dummy S/O just sawed his finger off.  As you
stand there for 15 minutes she  calmly finishes her conversation as
though nothing is going on until finally she says, "Well I guess I
better get Fred to the hospital."  She hangs up the phone, looks at you,
sighs and says, "Let's go."

You have just learned an important lesson.  On the nurse scale of
emergencies, yours is like a minus 9!  As my wife has told me, "when you
are on a ventilator, with six meds running and 10 minute vitals, then
you're sick.  Anything less than that isn't worth getting excited over!"


The Nurses Mutual Benefit Network:

As a male either dating or married to a nurse you should realize one
important thing.  There are nurses everywhere.  That in itself is nobig
deal, but the fact is that every
nurse knows other nurses who know more nurses so that by the time you
are finished, a nurse on the Island nation of Chuuk who observes you
doing something you shouldn't has the immediate capability of getting
word to your wife or girlfriend.   

This system is way more reliable and efficient than the Internet and has
existed for a much longer time.  Take it for granted that your nurse S/O
will know about anything you have done, good or bad, before you get
home!

Your Social Life with Nurses:

Nurses hang out with other nurses and soon you may find that all your
friends are married to nurses.  The reason this happens is because in
situations where nurses mingle with nonmedical folks things can get
ugly.  For example, you are out to dinner with your nurse S/O another
nurse couple and two civilian couples.  The nurses sit and chat,
discussing fun things like bleeding bowels, open sores, how much fat was
sucked out of some patient, projectile vomiting, traumatic amputations
all over a nice pasta dinner.  The nurses carry on talking as the
civilian couples
turn funny colors, make faces and suppress their gag reflex and this is
if the nurses don't have any really gross things to share like the
homeless guy with maggots in his bleeding sores!  After several dinners
and gatherings like this you will soon find your circle of friends has
shrunk significantly.  The key to avoiding this is to do the following:
Never go out in mixed groups with more than one nurse.  A lone nurse is
OK, the trouble starts when you have more than one and when that
happens, keep the regular folks away.  Also, if you are going to be
around a group of nurses in a social gathering, be sure to sit with the
non nurses.  You might as well because the nurses will be so busy
talking among themselves about work that you and any other non nurse
will be totally ignored.  Also get used to the idea that some friends
and neighbors will take advantage of your S/O being a nurse by calling
at all hours of the day and night for advice.  This may include male
friends dropping trousers to show your sweetie his rash.  Best advice I
can give is to just deal with it and hope it isn't contagious.

The Health Ramifications of being with a Nurse:

Most nurses have the constitution of a horse, which isn't true because
I've been around horses and they get sick more often. The reason for
this is pretty simple.  After about 3-5 years on the job, nurses have
been exposed to so many bugs that
they either end up dead or full of every antibody known to mankind.  If
you want the ultimate booster shot, just get a blood transfusion from a
nurse who's worked in a hospital for 20 years!  That said though, you
don't have all these antibodies so when she comes home with the
sniffles, a week later you're flat on your back with the worse case of
the flu in your life! Oh and if you are the least bit squeamish, don't
even think about the bugs she brings home on her clothes.  It will mess
with your mind as she talks about her Resistant TB patient!

Conclusion:

Ah such mysterious, wondrous creatures are nurses.  You know, they
really are and I thank God every day for my nurse!

Author: Rick Williams

I had no idea!!!

Mother's Day before last, my son, Patrick gave me a gift certificate for a hot stone massage. I was thrilled. I've never had a massage before and had always thought it would be wonderful to have one.

I have saved that certificate for "someday". You know how when you have something  very special and you don't want to use it up. You know that once you've used it, it's just gone and you don't want that to happen. Well, that's how I have been with this gift certificate. It was comforting  just to know that I had it. It was mine, kind of like my ace in the hole. I loved having  the potential to get a massage. I'm weird like that I guess.

Well, he's been asking me when I was going to use it. I kept saying the same thing over and over..."I don't want to use it up." To which he would reply, "I'll get you another one."  Well, the stress in my life finally got the best of me and I decided that it was time to use my certificate.

His best friend Todd's wife is the  massage therapist. She is one of the sweetest girls I've ever met in my life. When this girl hugs you, you can feel her soul in her hug. She's very "other worldish" if that makes any sense. I love Jenny. In fact I've often wished that she had a twin sister for Patrick (not necessary now, the Amber-Patrick thing is going wonderfully). Anyway, I just got back from my hot stone massage at Jenny's.

It was the most wonderful thing I've ever done. I know that sounds like an exaggeration. Trust me, it's not. She has this wonderful table with the most luxurious flannel sheets. There was soft music  playing in the background, very calming flute music. The room smelled like what I imagine heaven must smell like, I can't name it, but it was divine.  I undressed and got on the table and it was the beginning of the most wonderful hour of my entire life. I didn't know that something could feel that good. I didn't know that one could be pampered quite like that. Why in the world didn't I do this before?

If you've never done this, do yourself a favor and book one for yourself. If you need a gift idea, this is the perfect gift for anyone! Oh, and if you happen to give one to someone  like me. Don't let them put it on a shelf and save it! Book the appointment for them.

Out of the mouths of babes

I just stepped on one of Austin's Matchbox cars  with my bare foot.It's a common occurrence  around here and it usually makes we want to say something that I shouldn't say. But today it reminded me of one of those "gems" that Austin came up with a couple of years ago. I just have to share it with you.

Three years ago when Austin was four years old, we were on our way to take him to day care when I remembered that he had to take a $5.00 gift for a boy to the Christmas gift exchange that day. I decided to run into Kroger, figuring I could find something in that price range in their little toy aisle. We found a card of five Matchbox cars for $5.00 and quickly snatched it up along with a little gift bag to put them in. When we got back to the car I buckled him into the back seat and put the cars and bag in the front seat beside me. Before we even got out of the parking lot Austin asked to look at the cars again. I handed him the cars and told him not to open them. He promised that he wouldn't. "I just want to look at them while we drive, Mommy." A couple of miles down the road and I hear this sweet, winsome little voice saying, to no one in particular, "These sure are cools cars. I really love this red car. I sure wish I had cars just like these. These are the neatest cars I've ever seen."  This little dialog went on for about three minutes. I said nothing for a while. Now mind you, he wasn't coming right out and asking me  if he could keep the cars for himself, he was using the subliminal method! Finally, when my heart strings had been tugged on sufficiently, I said to him, "Austin, it's a lot more fun to give a gift than it is to get a gift." He immediately said that he didn't think so and asked me why I thought so. "When you give someone a gift, it makes your heart warm. It makes you feel good to know that you've done something for someone  else. It just makes your heart grow. It's good for your heart to give rather than get." He thought for a minute, saying nothing. Just when I thought that I must have convinced him of this wisdom I hear the sweetest little voice I've ever heard say, "Mommy, I think my heart will be OK if I keep them".

Post script:  Soft touch that I am, I bet your thinking that I let him keep them . Wrong!!  But guess what was in his Christmas stocking that year.

COMFORT FOOD

  When I was a child I was a very picky eater. I was forever spending the night with one friend or another and my mother  was afraid that I wouldn't like what they had for supper and would go to bed hungry. So, she taught me the pure joy of bread and butter, reasoning that if I didn't like anything else that was served I could make it through the night if I had a couple of pieces of bread and butter. I wish she'd never taught me this. I absolutely love bread and butter. Some girls drown their sorrows in Ben & Jerry's. I drown mine in bread and butter. Doesn't matter what kind of bread it is, and margarine will do when there is no real butter. I judge every restaurant on their bread and butter. I cannot ever, for any reason, NOT have the bread and butter. Diets be dammed. Don't get between me and my bread and butter.  

 I was scheduled to work this evening. I had my shower and was getting dressed for work today when they called and told me that our census was down and I was being put on call (we take turns taking call) until 7 pm. I asked, as I always do what the odds are that I would be called in. I was told slim to none. So, I decided to start baking cookies. Wouldn't you know, at 3:30 they call me in. Grrrr! Not that I minded working today, I was all set to go when they called me off. But when I got interested in something else and had to stop in the middle and get myself to work, well, it just messed up my aura! I got to work and was told I had three admissions coming up from the ER and a vascular post op patient coming. Admissions are a lot of work. One admission a night can really screw you up and here I was getting four of them. Suffice it to say, work was not fun tonight. But do you know what got me through the last 2 hours of my shift? The thought of the bread and butter I could have when I got home.   I've just finished eating my bread and butter. I'm almost Zen-like now. I know that I could be almost in a pleasure coma if I go back to the kitchen and fix myself one more piece of bread and butter.  

 Never let it be said that I don't have any self control!

BLUE CHRISTMAS

  The tree is up and decorated. The ingredients for the annual cookie bake are  bought .  I've made a dent in the  Christmas shopping.  I have "Believe" signs all over the house.    I've played my favorite Christmas music for a week. We've had the annual viewing of PRANCER (one of my all time favorite Christmas movies.) We've watched POLAR EXPRESS and read Christmas stories. I've worn  Christmas sweaters and Christmas scrubs. I've opened several Christmas cards already.  I'm trying. I'm really trying to get myself in the right frame of mind for Christmas. I'm not doing so well at it though.  

 I have always loved Christmas. I've  loved everything about it, even down to the mind numbing stress of it all.  But this year, I just wish we could skip the whole extravaganza.  

 Last year was the worst Christmas I've ever spent in my entire life.  A Grinch was in my house last year and I do mean a real live Grinch. He managed to ruin my most favorite day of the year, and many hours of every day since then. His behavior was so horrid that it overshadowed every sweet and good thing that the day has always represented to me.   He left our home , taking with him one of the people I treasure most in this world, my daughter. It doesn't seem possible to me that a whole year has passed. It feels like it was yesterday. The feelings are just as raw and exposed today as they were then.  I've done everything I know to do to undo the damage he has done to my family. It has all been for naught. He ended up getting exactly what he wanted., and is perfectly happy with the carnage he has left in his wake. I harbor feelings for this person that no one should have towards anyone. It has poisoned me.  It has done something to my heart that I can't find a way to repair. And it hangs over my Christmas like an anvil.  

 Children grow up. It's a wonderful thing.  I've often commented to people how cool it is to have adult children. I enjoy my adult children so much.   We never stop being parents, but it's so nice when you realize that you've raised these neat people  and they finally become your friends. I enjoy my daughter, Sarah Kate and son, Patrick.  They  make me smile all the time. I love them fiercely and know that they love me. They try so hard to make up for the heartache of last Christmas, a heartache that they've suffered as well and had no part in causing. One child cannot replace another. I don't know how to enjoy Christmas when  one of my children is so obviously absent from us.  She was my Christmas baby.  She is my Christmas baby. My heart needs her. Not just at Christmas, but every day of the year. 

This is probably Austin's last year to be a complete believer in the magic that  surrounds Christmas. His friends (darn them) are intent upon  ridding him of his innocence.  I want this Christmas to be a very memorable one for him. I want this  to be a very good and memorable Christmas for us all. But when we all wake up on Christmas morning this year and gather around the tree and begin the multiple  little traditions we have  been performing for years around here on Christmas mornings, there will be an empty place.  That empty place  looms large in front of me. I don't want to see it. I don't want to feel the feelings that go with it. I want my Christmas baby back. I want that precious  girl to see what love really is and I want her out of the clutches of the Grinch. Santa, bring my baby back to me.

Chaotic

My mind is everywhere today. I've found it hard to focus on anything. I had an emotional night at work last night working with a favorite patient that is dying and her family that I've  come to love. This dear, sweet lady is 92 years old. She has breast cancer that they've chosen not to treat. She is now in atrial fibrillation which is causing  renal failure. They can't treat her with Heparin (standard treatment for A-fib) because she has a GI bleed. This little lady is like the LITTLE ENGINE THAT COULD, she just simply refuses to give up the  fight. She is completely alert and oriented. Still trying to be the strong mother and grandmother that she's always been. Her only child is a son. To watch this man with his mother is a true blessing. He absolutely adores her, as she does him. They are so comfortable with each other. His children, all daughters are beautiful girls with the most loving hearts. Her son, in a moment of sadness, outside of her room last night asked me to tell him the truth. He asked me point blank, "Is Mom going to die tonight?" I get asked this question so many times. If only we knew. He has accepted that his mother is dying. He doesn't want her to suffer. And yet, in his eyes, I see a glimpse of the little boy he once was and he can't bear the thought of losing his mother. I told him that death didn't seem to be imminent at that time, but we can never say for certain. He broke down, and my heart absolutely broke in a million pieces for him, this devoted son, strong father and proud grandfather. He said to me in that moment, "I don't know how you all do it, watch people die all the time." Through my own tears, I squeezed his hand back and said, simply, "To share someone's dying moment is a gift."

I'm not sure if he understood what I meant, but I think he did. He didn't ask me to explain it. I've  had many people ask me a similar question many times. My own son, Patrick often wonders out loud how I can stand it. My answer is always the same. "It's a gift to share that moment with a dying person". I don't know exactly how to explain it. I know that I've experienced it many times now and I always feel grateful that I've been there. Truly grateful that I could offer some comfort to the families, often times without a single word being spoken. But mostly, I'm thankful for the privilege of being in the room  at the moment of death, that time when the soul leaves the body. I can literally feel the presence of angels, many of them, unseen, unheard, but oh so present at that moment of death.  It can't be explained, it can only be felt. The dying give you gifts of the soul that no one else can give you. Please don't misunderstand what I'm saying here. I don't look forward to people dying. Rather, I don't fear it. I know a lot of people run from it. There are nurses that I work with that absolutely hate it, and they will purposely stay out of a room when they know that death is moments away. I feel sorry for them. I feel sorry for the families that need a silent, comforting hand on their shoulder, a reassuring presence in the room. I feel sorry for these nurses because they cheat themselves out of an experience  where the art of our profession becomes more important than the science of it.

There are many times that a patient dies completely alone in a room. No family by the bedside, no nurse to hold their hand. This makes me so sad. No one should have to die alone. No one.

I hated to leave work last night. In fact I stayed for an extra hour. I know that the night shift nurse I reported off to is a very compassionate and loving nurse and I knew that if something were to happen last night that they were in good hands. I didn't want to leave for my own selfish reasons. I have come to love this dear lady. I have taken care of her so many times that she has come to feel like my own family. I gave the night shift nurse my phone number and asked her to call me if she thought her death was imminent. She promised she would call. No call came. I called the nurses station today and she will still alive. I am off again tomorrow and won't be back in until Friday night. I've requested to have her as my patient again on Friday.

I guess I'm not finished learning from this dear soul. Last night, as sick as she was she told me how to make tomato gravy. She asked about my little boy. She is so present. So dear. I am not anxious for her death, no, not at all. It's just that I've shared in her love and been blessed by her loving spirit. I want to be there when the angels come for her.

Who dey?

I don't think I've talked about my beloved Bengals here. I have been a huge Bengals fan for years and years. I was a Bengals fan when it wasn't cool to be a Bengals fan. I used to dress my kids up in Bengals "stuff" on Sundays when they were losing every game. I stuck with them through allll the lean years. I declined every Sunday afternoon invitation during football season. I sat and cheered and cried and "waited till next week" for many many years. I called sports radio shows and defended them when no one else did. I was ridiculed and laughed at with abandon. But I stood strong and kept the faith.

This year, (Thank you Marvin, Carson, Chad, Rudy, and TJ) my boys are back!! We're playing Pittsburgh today. Good game going on right now, no, GREAT game going on right now. And wouldn't ya know, I have to leave in 15 minutes for work. I swear, sometimes life just ain't one bit fair.

So, would someone please watch this game for me and cheer them on in my absence. I'm hoping to find an empty room at work and turn on the game, but that's not bloody likely.

 

Last night was the annual Cardiology Christmas party. One of the cardiology groups that come to our hospital throws this bash every year for the nurses and and doctors from area hospitals. I've never gone before. I've always worked for others so they could go. After hearing all the stories of the past several years, I decided that I wanted to go and see the carnage for myself.

It was very nice. Good food and a free flowing bar. Good music and a large dance floor. It's amazing how different people are outside of the work invironment. I've never seen most of these people in regular clothes. I'm amazed at how different people look when we're not wearing those lovely shapeless scrubs we seem to live in. And when the ever flowing coffee is replaced by everflowing wine, beer and vodka concoctions the conversation takes  on a whole different tone as well.

The youngest group from our unit (monitor watcher and unit secretaries),full of liquid courage left around 10 o'clock to go ride a mechanical bull at a local bar. I wonder how many of them will show up for work tonight and how many bones were broken. Several of them were supposed to be at work at 7'oclock this morning. I'll bet at least half of them called in. My best friend from work just called me to tell me that she won't be at work tonight. Something about throwing up all night and a migraine headache that has rendered her unable to sit upright for any extended period of time. Yes, work should be a blast tonight.

We have one token male that works on our unit as a monitor watcher. I saw him several times in corners working his questionable charm on some surprising people. My mind has worked overtime wondering if he was at all successful in wooing someone to go home with him and what the fall-out will be in terms of working relationships.

Our charge nurse was led out of the place  at around 10:30. She had that "zombie" look. I don't think she will even remember being there. She couldn't have had a good time, she looked pretty miserable. I imagine she will feel even more miserable today and she will probably  be a little sheepish about coming to work on Monday.

And I know you're all wondering about "moi"! Well, I was a happy little thing! My husband got me a pretty little drink when we got there. I asked what it was and he said, "just drink it". So, being the obedient little thing that I am, I did. What he didn't tell me  was that I should have  stirred it first. It was vodka and cranberry juice, but the vodka was sitting on top so I got most of the vodka in the first gulp. Whoa! Potent! I should say here that I'm not much of a drinker. I maybe have five drinks a year. So I'm a cheap date.  For the whole night, I only had three drinks. I was appropriately buzzed but able to enjoy it and laugh a lot.

Not being much of a drinker, I'm always amazed at  how different I feel when I do drink. What is it that makes all those inhibitions go way. Well, ok, not all of the inhibitions, but some of them anyway. I think I had my husband a little scared when I whispered one of my fantasies in his ear (something about being under a table  and trying to ruffle his feathers). He smiled, like he thought it sounded like fun, but he immediately told me he wouldn't be getting me any more of those little  vodka/cranberry thingies. We've been married for 27 years and the man was so shocked by my idea that he actually blushed. I say he has no spirit of adventure. It was his  one shot in life at seeing me take a walk on the wild side and he blew it! LOL Actually, I probably wouldn't have done it, but it sure was fun to imagine!

So, anyway, that was the cardiology party. Tonight it's back to the scrubs and coffee. Back to being straight-laced me. As for my husband, he asked me this morning, "So how long have you had that little fantasy?" I just smiled. Something tells me that he's a little sorry that he didn't call my bluff. I bet he won't be calling me Donna Reed again in the very near future.

Happy Birthday Emily,

Twenty four years ago this  very morning you were placed in my arms for the very first time and you moved straight into my heart. The spot that you occupied there has always been yours and always will be. I watched in awe as you grew into a fiercely independent little girl with big dreams and the vision and fortitude to make them happen. You were never afraid to say exactly what was on your mind and go after whatever you set your sights on with a dogged determination and "can do" attitude that often made me wonder how any of my DNA could have anything whatsoever to do  with you being born. Contrary to what you think, it is one  of the things I love and admire most about you.

I think it will not be until or unless you have a daughter of your own that you could ever understand the depth of my love for you. I love you unconditionally and I miss you with a longing that I cannot even begin to describe with mere words.

Happy Birthday, my dear Emily, may your day be filled with love and all things good.

Love,

Mom

Wouldn't you know!! It's snowing! I cleaned all day yesterday. My house is immaculate, my laundry is done. I could spend the whole day just reading by the fire and enjoying the beautiful falling snow in solitude. But I have to get ready for work. I'm just not holding my mouth right, I guess.

Out of the mouths of babes

I was just getting out the Christmas lights and it reminded me of this story about Austin:

I have always thought that less was more when it came to Christmas decorating outside. I love the understated look of  single  white candles in the windows, and a pretty evergreen wreath on the door. It looks calm to me. Inviting. Elegant.

Austin, on the other hand, thinks the more wattage used, the merrier the Christmas. He began lobbying for blue Christmas lights as soon as he was old enough to talk. He loved to drive around at night and look at all the Christmas lights. He begged us to put up blue Christmas lights. I decided that maybe we were depriving him of some basic need that he would grow up to resent us for. So, I began negotiations with him. I figured I could stand the little white icicle lights. So, I told him we would get some white lights for our house. This didn't satisfy him. He wanted blue lights and nothing but blue lights...and lots of them! We had this discussion for two years. No compromise was reached, so I continued to do my candles in the windows, wreath on the front door routine. He was less than impressed.

The year he was five, we were driving home from the mall at night and he was strapped in the back seat looking at all the brightly lit houses we passed. I heard this coming from the back seat in such a defeated little voice: "Oh, look, they have blue lights. Oh, wow, aren't their blue lights so pretty. I sure do love blue lights." I was saying nothing. Hoping that he would get over his lust for blue lights. After a few minutes of silence, I hear this: "(insert big sigh), Santa Claus is coming to my house in four more days, there are no blue lights on my house, how sad is that"?

I think that is when it hit me just how important these blue lights were to my little guy. Have I mentioned that I hate blue Christmas lights? I didn't know what to do. I really did NOT want to put blue lights on my house. But how can a mother hear what I'd heard and not find some way to give him what he wanted so badly.

While shopping last year I discovered icicle lights that were both blue AND white. I thought it would be a compromise. I thought he would be thrilled. He would get some blue lights on the house , and I could still have my simple white ones.  I bought enough of those  stupid things to light up Trump Tower. We  put them up last year while he was at his Grandma's. I was so excited for him to see them. When he came home that night and saw them he was less than overwhelmed. "Too many white ones", was his analysis. I was thinking, "Too many blue ones". 

We will hang them up again this year. And, I've already decided that if he still isn't thrilled with them. Next year, I will get him the blue lights he's coveted. He is so quickly coming to the end of his childhood innocence  regarding Christmas. The magic will soon be gone for him regarding Santa Claus. His friends are  telling him there is no such thing. I would hang whatever it took on my house to keep him believing. If only blue lights would do it.

 

The Best Gift

I was anxious to get some Christmas shopping done today. I headed to town  and was busy checking things off my list when I remembered that I had promised Austin on Saturday that I would come to his school and have lunch with him on Tuesday. He didn't mention it this morning before he left for school and I had forgotten about it as well. While standing in line to check out at one of the department stores I remembered it. I would have just enough time to make it to his school when his class goes to lunch. I stood there debating with myself about what to do. I figured that he had forgotten it, since he hadn't mentioned it this morning. I could stay in town and get some more shopping done or I could honor my promise to him and go have lunch with him. The evil Mommy in me reasoned that he'd forgotten about it, so I'd probably be off the hook if I didn't go. But the nice Mommy in me didn't want to let him down in case he'd remembered. I really wanted to stay and do more shopping. I got in my car to leave, still not sure which direction I was going to head in. Last minute decision coming out of the parking lot was to go to school.

I walked to the cafeteria and realized that his class was already in cafeteria line. I went to the  table designated for his class (I've eaten with him before) and waited for him to come  out. The look on that child's face when he saw me was worth more than all the money in the world. Right there, in front of all of his friends, he yelled, "Mommy! You came!",  and I got a big bear hug right in front of everyone. 

He told me as he ate that he had forgotten that I was supposed to come today. I could have stayed and shopped and he wouldn't have held it against me. But ya know what? If I'd done that, I would be the one that had been let down most of all. I would have felt guilty the rest of the day. But more importantly, I would not have had the gift of  the look on his face when he realized that Mommy remembered even if he had forgotten.

I just tucked him in a few minutes ago and do you know what he said to me? He said, "Mommy, thank you for coming to have lunch with me today, lunch is more fun when you're there."

I got my Christmas gift early this year. I don't need another thing.

Happy Thanksgiving

I worked tonight (last night), since it's 5:39 AM Thursday and I haven't been to bed yet, I'm not sure  what to call it. So, let's  just call it CRAZY! I feel like I've been wrestling all  day. At work I wrestled with a little old lady to keep her in bed. I wrestled with a little old man to keep him on the unit (he was convinced that he'd forgotten to lock the front door, bless his heart). Let's just say that work was a challenge tonight. Then I come home and I wrestled with the darn turkey.  We are deep frying a turkey at my daughter's for Thanksgiving, but I also wanted to bake  (or is it roast) one. The one that we're going to deep-fry is at Sarah's house  awaiting the  master of turkey frying. I was planning to get up very early and take this turkey to Sarah's in the morning to bake  (roast) it. But the thought of waking up early is so vile to me that I decided I'd rather stay up late (I think I got a tad carried away, however), and bake it here . Anyway, it took me a good 30 minutes to wrestle the neck out of that darn bird. You know that little bag that they stick the neck and giblets in before they tuck it inside the bird? Well, the bag inside my turkey was in upside down, so when I tried to pull it out the neck slipped out the other end and stayed in the turkey. I tried every which way to get the neck out of that cavity and it just wasn't coming. I could have untucked the drumsticks from that neat little pocket they fashion and gotten the neck out pretty easily I suppose, but I've done that before and then was unable to do that little leg-tuck thing they do (how DO they do that anyway?). So, I wrestled the neck for thirty minutes. I used every gadget I could find in my drawers to pull it out, no luck. I finally stood there in my kitchen laughing hysterically at myself thinking what a picture it must have made. I was alone, however, because the sane people that live in this house were all asleep hours ago. Then, I got my hand stuck inside the turkey. Finally, I got it out. Turkey is in the roasting bag, in the oven. Now, my problem is that if I lie down for a bit, I know I'll not wake up when the oven timer goes off. So, I have to stay awake until the turkey is done. Of course, by then, I'll be so exhausted I won't be worth a nickle. I've decided it would have been much easier to have cooked this meal here at my house instead of taking it to my daughter's and doing it. But, it's too late to change that now. And besides, she is very excited to have her first "holiday" in her new home. So, I'll load up and drag all the ingredients to her house and smile while I do it. All of this probably makes no sense, as I'm slap-happy and sleep deprived, but I had to do somehthing while the bird is cooking.

I love Thanksgiving. It's not about gifts. It's the one holiday that they haven't managed to commercialize. It's about being with people you love and eating.  What could be better than that? Plus, think of all those wonderful turkey and mayonaise sandwiches all weekend. Yum!

May you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving. Mine will probably end abruptly as I collapse in the mashed potato's.

I love being a Mom!

This is in my morning email:  Too funny!

Although it might be a celebration day for many people, you Crabs could be the ones who have to hold down the fort. Normally you enjoy being part of the cooking team for Thanksgiving, but today it might seem like more of a chore than usual. Don't waste energy complaining. If you do what is expected, you can experience joy from the closeness of family and friends.

 

 

Feeling Guilty!

My phone rang a few minutes ago. I've learned to check caller ID before answering. It was the hospital calling. I debated with myself about answering. I decided to wait and see what message they would leave  instead of answering. Well, guess what. They wanted to know if I would work Thanksgiving evening. We work  every other holiday. Last year was my Thanksgiving to work. When I got to work last year they came  to me and asked me if I would work a double shift. I figured since I was already there  and my holiday was already screwed up, why not. They gushed about how grateful they were and told me that since I was doing them such a huge favor that they would do everything within their power to give me Christmas Eve  off. Well, Christmas Eve came  and  they didn't call me  off. 

 My newly married daughter and her husband are  having Thanksgiving at their house. I'm doing the cooking, but it's at their house.  We're planning to eat around 1:00, so realistically I could work at 3:00 I suppose. But, darn it, I don't want to!!! 

In the middle of typing the above, the hospital called back. I again didn't answer, this time it was my manager, I dearly love her and she knows this. Her message was more pleading than the staffing clerk that called earlier. I hate it when they do this to me. If  I say I'll work, my family will be very upset with me. But, if I don't work, then I feel like I'm letting  a lot of people down . 

 I have to work Christmas Day evening this year  and New Years Eve.  I know, wha -wha! But darn it, I don't want to work Thanksgiving too!  They call me because they know I always cave in and agree to work. There are those that I work with that never ever work an extra shift for any reason. I always feel guilty because I know the patients don't want to be there on a holiday either, and someone has to take care of them. I don't know what to do.

I have to call them and give them some kind of answer. I'm going to go take a walk, maybe if I walk around the block a few times and keep chanting, No, No, No, No, No, No, it will be easier to say no when I call them back.  Yeah, riiiiight!

Storytime

I love this picture. Doesn't it make you feel serene and calm just to look at it? I had the night off tonight. I looked forward all day to putting a fire in the fireplace and snuggling on the couch to read to Austin. While going through some things in the basement a few weeks ago, I came across an old box of books that had belonged to my first litter (remember, raising Austin isn't my first tumble in the dryer). I found a little chapter book, SOUNDER by William H. Armstrong (Newberry Medal Winner). I don't remember ever reading it before, in fact I wasn't familiar with this
book at all. I guess one of the girls bought it a long time ago and read it alone.

Austin and I were curled up in the corner of the couch with a blanket and the fire crackling. Such a sweet place to be. The story starts out about a little black boy a long time ago. His father was a sharecropper. It was winter time and there were no crops to work for money. The weather had been bad for coon hunting and in the winter they relied on coon skins for money and food. He wakes up one morning to smell pork sausage frying and ham boiling in water on the wood cook stove. His mother, he notices, is very nervous. I had deduced that his father had done something illegal to get this food for his family and I was worried about how all this was going to turn out. But, I had no idea the conversation that I was going to be forced into when I sat down and snuggled in with my son for a peaceful storytime.

Now, imagine this scene; I'm reading along when out of the blue I find myself in the middle of the following sentences after the local sheriff has burst through the door of their cabin. "There are two things I can smell a mile," the first man said in a loud voice. "One's a ham cookin' and the other's a thievin' (insert n word here)."

I stopped right after saying "thievin'" and said, "Austin, I can't read this word to you." I don't think this child has ever heard that word. He certainly has never heard it from me. I stammered for a bit. I was mad! I was furious that this word had crept into our peaceful little world there on the couch during what was supposed to be a peaceful evening of reading to my little boy. I thought that this book was going to be about a little boy and his dog, Sounder. Now, don't misunderstand me here. It wasn't that I was going to have to explain about ugliness in the world. I don't ever shy away from that. I was angry that I had not been able to choose the time. But, there it was, and explaining it was mine to do. So, I did. Or at least I tried to. I didn't know how to answer his questions about why some people hate some people just because their skin is a different color. This was an entirely new concept to him. He's never seen or heard anyone treat his friends, Chellen, Vanessa, and Bre badly because their skin happens to be black.It had never occured to him that there was anyting different about his friends. They were just Chellen, Vanessa, and Bre. No different than Megan, Trevor, and Daniel. This is what I was so mad about. He was so innocent. So ignorant of such ignorance. What should have been a pleasant moment between mother and son had turned into a life lesson that I didn't think was necessary at this moment in his life.

So, we discussed it. I told him that he sould never ever use that word. That it was a disgusting word that mean and ignorant people used. I told him that if he ever heard that word again that he should recognize what it meant and should stand up for his friends if it were ever directed at them. By the indignation and shock that he expressed, I have no doubt that he wouldn't tolerate it.

As I said, I was very upset by the whole incident. I put him to bed, listened to his prayers, kissed him goodnight and turned out the light. As I closed his door my heart was heavy that our evening had been tarnished. I've thought about it a lot since then, and I'm ashamed of myself. What was wrong with me!! I have now decided that I'm grateful that I was the one that was right there beside him the first time this ugly word entered his world. I'm glad I was there to explain ignorance and bigotry to him. I'm not happy that these are things that any child has to learn about. But I'm glad he didn't hear it for the first time on a playground where he wouldn't have a frame of reference to filter it through. And you know, it came to me as I was folding clothes in the laundry room after he was asleep, wouldn't the world be better off if every child could learn of the evilness in the world from the comfort of a parent's lap who could then go on to explain that it was up to them and other's like them to see that those kinds of words and deeds didn't continue.

Yes, our "comfortable" little scene was disturbed tonight. But, I'm glad now. My little boy went to bed having learned a lesson that I hope he never forgets. Wouldn't it be wonderful if there were a million other littleboys and girls that had their "comfortable" little scenes disturbed also.

Sweet dreams, my little Austin.

Well, I set up a space on blogger. I posted a couple of times over there and to tell you the truth, my heart just isn't in it. I'm not sure why, it just isn't.

Everyone has to do what they feel is the best for them. I have those that I read and I will read them no matter where they set up shop. I'm loyal like that. I may post on both for a while until I feel more at peace about a decision. But for now, I'm going to continue with my journal here.  Do I like the ads? No, I don't at all. But, in the grand scheme of things, they don't affect my life or thoughts one iota. I respect everyone's right to choose otherwise, and I hope that those that are leaving J-land will not hold it against those of us that choose not to. I read the journals that I read because I enjoy them. They inspire and entertain me. I don't not read a journal because I don't like the graphics or ads. I won't give those ads the power to determine what I read. I will simply ignore them.

While going through pictures tonight, I came upon this one....it's one of my favorites. It was taken three years ago. It's my oldest son, Patrick and my youngest child, Austin. They were both in my nieces wedding. I think it looks like an advertisement for tuxedos.

Update on my matchmaking!!!

I swear if I jinx this I'll shoot myself. Remember when I wrote about the matchmaking that my friend, Michelle and I were doing with my son, Patrick and her cousin Amber? Well, it will be four weeks ago this Sunday. They are still dating. And they're seeing one another more every week. They went out last night and tonight.  Do you all have any idea the restraint I am using not to  bombard him with questions? Of course you don't, but trust me I have to literally bite my tongue. I so love her. She's perfect for him. She confided in Michelle that she really, really, really likes him. She likes him so much she's scared. I think he's feeling the same way. I'm so tickled about this I can't stand it. He's such a loving guy. He's such a good son to me. Everyone that knows him loves him. But he's been sooooo reluctant to get serious with anyone since his high school romance. He's always seemed to end up dating these bimbo type girls that end up being drama queens. They smother him, make demands and push way to hard. Amber isn't at all like any of them. The comment he keeps making  is "she's so easy to be with". I think he's afraid to believe she's for real. I think he's waiting for the drama to appear. From everything Michelle has told me about Amber, that is not going to happen. She's the real McCoy and this is truly how she is. I'll keep ya posted!!!

I Really Do LOVE My Job!

  I am a kind of tired that I haven't been in a long time. My two week work schedule usually is as follows: Monday, Thursday, Saturday,Sunday,Wednesday, and Friday. You'll notice that the only two days I work in a row are every other weekend. My other days are spaced apart. I do this for a reason. You see, more likely than not work is CRAZY. From a few entries ago you'll see why. So, when I have one of those nights I can get myself through them by telling myself, "You're off tomorrow, you can get through this". And it works, for the most part. I have time to remind myself why I love my job on my days off and I am able to go in and handle those rough nights. Well, these past two weeks have been waaaay off the norm. It started when I requested to be off on Halloween so I could be home with Austin for trick or treating. My boss said, "Sure I'll give you that night off, but could you work Friday for me instead?" Sure, I said. Well, that made my schedule Th, Fri, Sat, and Sun. It was worth it, I told myself. When I got to work that Friday, my boss asked me if I could work Tuesday (she had a hole in the schedule), instead of my normal Friday this week. Sure, I said! Oh my gosh, had I just said YES? By agreeing to that I had scheduled myself for 6 out of 7 nights.On Tuesday when I got to work, this same boss (who I truly liked before this week) came up to me all smiley and lovey like and said, "Melissa, Shalane has to attend the stroke class tomorrow, could you come in and relieve her at Noon? (I work the 3-11:30 shift)  Before I even knew what I was saying I heard myself say, "Sure!". It was official, I'd  lost all sense. People, I don't work full time....and now I know why!!!

 

  As more proof of my loss of good sense, I offer this: I wore a new pair of shoes to work that lovely 12 hour shift last night! I know better than that, I truly do. I got a new pair of those ugly Croc shoes...you know the rubber thingys that are lightweight and UGLY! But they are so comfortable! Well, they are comfortable if you're not planning on walking 500 miles nonstop. They have no support. I drug myself home at 1:00 this morning dreading each time my croc'd feet would touch the floor. Won't do THAT again!  

 

 Oh, and I got a flu shot before starting work on Tuesday. Felt great Tuesday. Last night I had this vague ache all over my body and I swear I think I had a low grade temp.   I literally drug myself home. Fell in a chair and died! I woke up in that chair at 11:00 this morning. My husband and son got Austin on the bus this morning, bless them. I didn't hear a thing.  

 

So now I have 4 days off. Guess what I'm doing today? As I was typing this, the phone rang. Caller ID says it's work. Not for any amount of money would I have answered that phone. I know that within 30 seconds I would have been saying, "Sure!". They can hold the fort down without me today.   I gleaned some pretty funny stories from these six days. If I weren't so spent I'd tell them to you right now. But I think the couch is looking for a potato and I'm good potato material today.

I've worked the past four nights. I did my volunteer duties with Austin's first grade class this morning. I have to work tomorrow night and Wednesday night. Can you imagine what my laundry room looks like right now? Don't even try. You'll never come close.

  I love gardening. I spend so much time (and money) on flowers. I baby them, I water them, I talk to them (yes, I talk to them, so what?). It's such good therapy to work outside in the dirt. I plant and weed and nurture and love every minute of it. My soul breathes in my garden. It makes me giddy to have my hands dirty and smell the dirt. I get mad when I have to stop working in the yard and come in to fix supper. I'd rather not eat if it means I have to leave the yard.   So, now it's fall. I love fall for the colors and the feeling in the air. I love the smells of fall and the crispness you can feel in the air. BUT....this means that my flowers look like pitiful, neglected orphans. It breaks my heart to see my flowers dying. This is the time to pull them up (annuals) and throw them on the compost pile. I HATE this job. It's almost physically painful for me to do this. Last fall, I just left them planted, thinking this might be less painful, but it didn't. It made it worse. I would look out on the back yard and see them brown and withered in their spots and it was a worse reminder than it would have been to just pull them up and put them to rest. I finally just did the dirty deed and got rid of them.   This year I found the most perfect hot pink geraniums I had ever seen. They were glorious all summer. They were even more glorious as we went into fall. I can't part with them. I have decided to pull them up and try to save them over the winter in my basement. I've read that you can pull them up, knock off all the dirt and hang them upside down in the basement and they will come back in the spring. I'm crossing my fingers and giving this a try. I've spent a small fortune on all my flowers and this should save me some money next spring. HA! who am I kidding. I will just have more flowers, not more money.   There is a little house that I pass quite often. A sweet little lady lives there. She has artificial flowers in her flower beds. ALL OF HER FLOWER BEDS. It's so funny to drive by her house in the winter and still see the bright colors of her "garden". Bless her heart, I guess she couldn't stand to see them die in the fall either. I won't do that, don't worry.

My Horoscope for today....

Intense effort may be required at work today, and you might feel frustrated by how much you have to do. Consider taking a look at deeper issues such as your motivation, for maybe this isn't the right job for you. Perhaps a different approach would make you more efficient. Don't push yourself too far. Although your production will be appreciated, it's not worth jeopardizing your physical well-being.

Well, now, let me tell you, this sure makes me excited to go to work today. Remember the post from the other day about my night at work? Well, last night was twice as bad.  Looks like tonight won't be any better. 

I must not forget to take my bag of hugs with me.

The Queen of Procrastination!

If there is a medal for it....I win hands down. Every year it's my New Year's Resolution to stop procrastinating. Why do I do it? There has to be some deep convuluted reason deep down in the recesses of my mind for it. When I don't procrastinate, things go so much smoother. I know this. I know this to be so true and yet, time after time I procrastinate.

October 31 was the deadline for renewing my nursing license. I only work three evenings a week. This week my scheduled days were Monday, Thursday and Saturday. Since Monday was Halloween I had arranged to be off to be home with Austin and to work Friday instead. I knew that proof of my license renewal had to be turned in to the nursing office at work before I could work. Last week, somehow, October 31 (although I knew differently, I honestly did!) seemed like an eternity away  to me. PLUS the fact that I wasn't working on the 31st and would have until November 3 to get my proof into the right hands, I procrastinated myself into a nailbiting trip to the mailbox yesterday afternoon. I have to work today. If I don't have my license turned in by 3:00, I can't work.  I had asked several people that I work with how long it had taken them to get their license in the mail after renewing online. Everyone said, 2 to 3 days. So what did I do? I waited until last Thursday to renew online. In my addled brain, I imagined going to the mailbox on Monday (a day I didn't have to work mind you) and pulling out my renewed license. It wasn't there. It wasn't there Tuesday, it wasn't there yesterday. I am scheduled to work today. My license isn't here yet. I am supposed to be at work at 3:00. My mail will come today at 3:00. Why do I do this to myself?

There has to be some deep rooted self defeating evil alter ego here.  I can't blame this on anyone but myself.  It's a major character flaw and I have got to stop it. I think I will put signs up all over my house that say, "Just do it NOW".  I'm so mad at myself.

But you know, all of my problems today pale in comparison to what my friend Pam (Just One Girls Head Noise )is dealing with. I wish I had a magic wand to wave over her life and turn it right side up again. Please say a prayer for her.

UPDATE: I was saved! While nosing around on the Board of Nursing site, I found a place you could pay to get verification. I paid, the measley buck and printed verification that I am, indeed, licensed to practice. Yippee. I guess we'll see how much I learned from this next year. I will say, right here, right now. The very day that I get my papers for renewal in the mail next year, I'm sending them back in immediately!

  Nothing is ever lost by courtesy. It is the cheapest of pleasures,
costs nothing, and conveys much.

-- Erastus Wiman  

 Isn't this the beautiful truth!! It seems like such a simple no-brainer to me and yet every day we see evidence of people who have forgotten or never learned this simple rule.

I think we sometimes get so busy with "stuff" that we forget that we are not lone travelers in the universe. We forget that the way we treat others even by just passing them in a hallway or on a sidewalk can have a profound affect on them and eventually everyone they meet that day. Think back to a time when a stranger smiled at you, or had a kind word. Didn't it instantly lighten your load just a little bit. I know it has mine. I think we often think that it takes a grand gesture or a big production to "do something for someone". But ya know what, it doesn't.

Try a little experiment tomorrow and just give a genuine smile and a friendly "hello" to people you come in contact with in passing. Crown yourself the King or Queen of Cheer for one day. Go out of your way to do something nice for someone. It doesn't have to be a big thing. Be really corny and buy a bag of hugs....give hugs out tomorrow. I'm going to do this also. I bet we will be amazed at how much better our days go and how our own outlooks will improve.

You might think that what I've said here isn't really about courtesy, that it's just about being happy and smiling at people. But, isn't that the greatest courtesy we can grant? I know that I count it as a courtesy when someone acknowledges me in a  kind way. Come on...."out courtesy" everyone tomorrow.

Oh, and let me know how it turns out. ;)

Don't tell him, but this is still "cute"!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here's my little  resident blood sucker. He thinks he looks very scary. I played along. To me, he's just darn cute. And we'll continue to get along just fine as long as he gives me all of the Almond Joys he collected tonight.

After coming back to the street after leaving one house his grandmother asked, "Did you remember to say thank-you?". He looked at her with big eyes and said, "Yes, Grandma, I did, but that man forgot to say you're welcome!". Adults these days!!!

BOOFEST

We took Austin and his little friend Danny to  Boofest tonight. We went on a hayride to a pumpkin patch (a very picked over pumpkin patch, I might add!) and picked a pumpkin. We played hide and seek in a corn field maze, jumped and played in a big 'ol pile of leaves, and got to pet some ponies. It's fun to see things through the eyes of children. They show us how to giggle and abandon the seriousness of adulthood.

When our older kids were little  they didn't get to take friends very often because the three of them took up all the room in the car. It's strange having this little guy all by himself. He'd be bored to tears with just his Dad and I along on these adventures, so we usually take a friend. It's a whole different dynamic than taking siblings. Don't know how to explain it really, but I was struck by it tonight; how different things are this time around with him than it was when his brother and sisters were little. I think I watch with different eyes this time around too. Older eyes. Eyes that know that I'd better squeeze out all the juice this time because I know how quickly these times will be gone. How quickly he'll be too old for pumpkin patches and hay rides with  Mommy and Daddy.  I want to slow down time.  Freeze these moments of his childhood innocence and wonder.

His first five Halloweens I got to choose his costumes. I dressed him in cute  costumes. I dressed him as cows and bears and puppy dogs. Last year when it came time to get a costume he informed me, "I'm not being something "cute" this year Mommy". I kind of bit my lip and asked him what he wanted to be. I was so disappointed when he informed me he wanted to be a Ninja. I, of course, didn't let on that it wasn't completely cool with me and I bought him a Ninja costume. So I was not looking forward to hearing what he wanted to be this year. He's decided he wants to be a Vampire. So, the Vampire make up is bought and the various components of a vampire costume are being  collected. I knew that "cute" wouldn't last very long. But as long as there is breath in my body, he'll be the cutest little Vampire on the block.

Little Boys

Austin, my seven year old, has a couple of friends in playing. I can hear them in the other room. They're playing MOUSETRAP. They are giggling. They are screeching, they are having a ball. What a beautiful soundtrack for a Saturday. I love little boys!

What's wrong with people????

Someone stole my little bag last night at work.

A few weeks ago my sister was selling Longaberger totes, bags, and purses. She had this cute little fabric bag that I just fell in love with. It was a madris plaid  with a denim pocket on front and had two little leather handles on top. It was small. It kind of looked like a fabric luch bag. It was much too small for me to use as a purse, but I instantly thought us using it at work. I had a supply of ink pens (some very cool ink pens I might add), my calipers, various medical scissors, a little emergency kit, Advil (for ME!), tape, a change purse for the vending machines when we miss dinner (which is most days), a few little touch-up make up thingies, a medical spanish translator and other little insignificant things. There are little alcoves outside our patient rooms where we sit to chart and get medications together from the overhead locked cabinet. The really weird part is that last night early in my shift I just had a feeling that my bag was going to be stolen. I just knew it!!! I usually carry it with me from patient room to patient room and always leave it sitting on the little counter of the alcove. Needless to say, when I'm being called from room to room  so often, sometimes it's left outside of a room that I am not in at the moment. About 10:00 I needed my calipers to measure and ECG strip. When I went to get it, it was gone. I looked everywhere and it just wasn't to be found. I don't think I've ever had something stolen from me and it sure isn't a nice feeling. Now granted this was not some big expensive item. But it was MINE. It was useful to me and I liked it. I was surprised at how I felt. Aside from being mad that someone would take somehthing that didn't belong to them , I felt violated. And then I was surprised that I felt violated. It was a bag for cryin-out-loud! Why did it make me feel so violated? I later realized that it also had the receipt I'd printed from the internet that proved that I'd renewed my nursing license for this year. And, it had the printed proof that I'd taken a stroke assessment test with the American Stroke Association that I needed to turn in to my manager. I bet whoever took it was surprised when they got it to their car and realized it wasn't the mother-lode that they thought they were getting.

I hope the  Bird-of Paradise flies up their nose and that they have a really rotten day today.

I need a clone of myself

Not because the world needs another me, but because I need another me. I'm a critical care nurse and I absolutely love nursing. I find a happiness and contentment when I'm taking care of patients that nothing else in my life has ever given me.

We are in a nursing shortage that appears to get worse every day. I see nurses leaving their profession all the time. Why? They are burnt out. Not because of the patients or because they don't like nursing. It's because of the demands of management to do more every day. Every couple of days we are given more documentation to do. I've been to three mandatory in-service classes in the past two weeks. They were great, I enjoyed them. I learned new things. Important things that will help me in my job. But along with every one of these in-services comes more documentation, more red tape, more time consuming tasks that take away from patient care. Administration is constantly harping on customer service. I'm a huge cheerleader for customer service. I feel like I go above and beyond when it comes to customer service. But there are times when because of the acuity of our census that the documentation  gets in the way of patient care. We have to be vigilent of CYA (cover your ass). Everyday they ask more and more of us and expect us to take care of more patients with less help from those angels called nurses aides. And all the while management is wringing their hands wondering why they can't keep good nurses. Many nights I leave work feeling defeated. I can't stand it when the clerical aspect of my job takes away from the clinical part of my job. When I know a patient needs someone to hold their hand for a few minutes and listen to their fears and concerns and I can't do that because they've just told me that I have a patient coming up from the ER with  active chest pain and  new onset atrial fib on a heparin drip. The other night I had just this situation happen: I had a patient going for a pacemaker the next morning. He was an elderly man and was very scared and needed a little tlc and reassurance. I had the ER patient coming up any minute, and the nurses' station had just called me to tell me that another of my patients was having chest pain. So I go to the patient having chest pain, get vitals, start the O2, call for a 12 lead EKG, and give the SL nitroglycerin. When you're treating chest pain you can't leave that patient. They get Nitro,you take vitals in five minutes. If they are still having the chest pain you give another Nitro (provided the Nitro hasn't knocked their pressure too low), you do this times 3, praying that their chest pain is gone by the time you get the third Nitro in them. If it isn't you go to IV Morphine. All the while I'm doing this, I'm thinking about the man in 327 that needs someone to listen to him, the ER patient coming up that will require a full admisssion that will take a good 45 minutes, and before I can get out of the room with my chest pain patient (the third Nitro relieved his pain), the nurses station has called me again to tell me that my patient in 330 (a confused, combative little lady on a dopamine drip) has pulled her IV out for the second time this shift. As if it isn't enough to be spread so thin (I also have 2 other patients that I'm silently praying won't need me any time soon), I'm already way behind in my charting, not to mention that it's 9:30 and I haven't had a thing to eat since lunch and my bladder feels like it's going to explode. The daughter that is staying with her mother in 330 is pitching a fit because I'm not in there pronto restarting the IV her mother has pulled out and I'm now dealing with the new admission from ER whose wife is frantic and upset thinking her husband is going to die right here, right now. I want to scream "I'm only human here people!!!!" But I don't. I smile and get them settled into room 326 and start asking the three pages of history question that are required for an admission, after I start the chest pain treatment protocol of Nitro x 3 which, for him also required 4mg of IV morphine. In the middle of all of this Lab is calling me (we carry hospital cell phones) to give me critical lab results on my patient in 328 that requires a call to his doctor (a doctor who, by the way, hates to be called and is beyond rude when we call him). Somehow I managed to make it through the rest of my sift. My chest pain patients are pain free for the moment, the doctor was called, orders were taken regarding the labs, my new admit is fully admitted, his wife has been calmed down and given coffee and a cookie, the scared little man is sleeping after his Ambien kicked in, the IV has been restarted and finally I get to give report to the night shift nurse coming on. It's now 11:45 and I have at least an hour of charting and paper work to do.

I really do love my job. I love nursing. I hate the hoops we have to jump through and I hate not being able to spend the time with each patient that they need and deserve. I don't wonder why nurses leave the profession. I do wonder why administration can't see what's going on and give us enough help that we need to do the job that we love .

Gotta go, it's time  to get ready for work! ;)

BASEBALL

Well, the Chicago White Sox won the wold series! I love it when underdogs win things. Of course, if the Astro's had won it would have been cool too. I would be more excited if the Cubbies had been the Chicago team to win, but oh well. Anyway, with so much baseball news in my ears lately I've been reliving my baseball memories of my son, Patrick. He was an absolutely great player. People who watched him play for years still cannot believe that he wasn't drafted by the pros. The dream of his life was to play professional baseball. He would have done it for free even. But, it wasn't meant to be for whatever reason. I went back and dug up a piece that I wrote right after his last college game three years ago. By reading it below, I hope you get a feel for him and what a neat guy he is, but mostly I think that this puts into words how very much I love him.

 

Saturday I sat bundled in layers of clothes and blankets along the fence behind third base. It was biting cold and spitting sleet and rain. I wouldn't have left my place for the warmth of the car for a million dollars. It was, what turned out to be my beloved son's last baseball game. It was the championship game of the NCAA North Central Region  Tournament- Division ll (Baseball), the winner would advance to the Division ll World Series in Alabama. Our boys had lost the first game on Thursday and had fought their way back up through the losers bracket on Friday to be here. We were #2 seed, Ashland University was #1. It was a double elimination tournament, we'd lost one already, they hadn't lost any. We would have to beat them twice that day. Without going into a boring play by play of the game, I will simply say our boys lost. They've come from behind many times to win a crucial game, I wasn't really worried. Somewhere in the eighth inning it began to dawn on me that we probably weren't going to win this time. With that realization came the gut-wrenching epiphany that I was watching my son's last game. I couldn't even breathe for a second. I watched him play third base trying to burn that picture into my mind. I wanted to catch every detail, every movement, every mannerism that makes him unique. I was trance-like, blinking away tears and praying, yes praying that he could have just one more game.This might seem silly to a lot of people. Some might argue that it's just a stupid game. They don't know my son. They don't know that his first word ever was "ball". They don't know that this child of my heart has lived, breathed, slept, and eaten baseball since he was old enough to know what a baseball was. The don't know the sacrifices he's made to play America's game. They don't know that baseball has been his life, his dream, his love. But I knew. I knew how badly he wanted to win that game. I knew how much he dreaded the last out to come in the ninth inning. I knew, and my heart was breaking for him. It wasn't to be. We lost 6-2. After the game coach took the team a little behind third base for their usual post-game huddle. We, the parents of the eight seniors on the team stood huddled, watching, tears streaming down all our faces, unified in our unspoken understanding of what this meant to these boys; to ourselves. This was it. The end of a 16 year era in our lives. The end of little boys' dreams. Coach talked to them for about 5 minutes. As he and the coaching staff turned to walk back to the dug-out they were wiping tears. The underclassmen followed close behind, dry eyed. The image of what was left of that huddle behind third base will never leave me. Eight tough-guy athletes, arms around each other, crying. Not because they'd lost a game, but because it was thier last.It seemed an eternity that they huddled there, holding on to one another, as we their parents stood helplessly watching their hearts break. Finally, they headed back to the dug-out, wiping their eyes, gathering their gear, hugging coaches. One by one the seniors headed out to where we were. I thought my heart would break as I watched sons and Dads and Moms grabbing each other and just holding on wordlessly because words weren't necessary. My Patrick was the last one out. His Dad walked up to meet him halfway, they grabbed each other, they cried, I knew my heart was breaking. I couldn't move, I could only stand there, tears silently streaming down my face, watching my son walk away for the last time from his favorite place on earth, a baseball field. He walked towards me, arms reaching and tears streaming. I couldn't find the words I wanted to say. Couldn't come up with a Momism to give him comfort. I could only squeeze him and say "I love you". I wanted to tell him how proud I was of him, what a good and loving kid he was, how much fun we'd had over the years through all of our baseball travels, what good memories he'd given us, what a good sport he'dalways been, and how very lucky  I was to be his Mom, but I couldn't talk. He held on to me for a long time, squeezing hard and just before he let go he said, "Thanks Mom, for everything". Tom Hanks was wrong. There is crying in baseball.

Happy Mom

Patrick had his first date with Amber last night. I think I was more nervous for them than I was on the night of my first date. I carefully and lovingly ironed his jeans (yes, his jeans!) and his shirt. Grilled him on where he was taking her, suggested he stop and buy her flowers on his way to pick her up (he said, "Mom, it's our FIRST date, I can't do that on our first date!). I think he was a bit nervous, and was trying very hard not to show it. He left to pick her up and I said a silent prayer that they would fall madly in love. I have a bit of a window on the goings on between these two that is just too much fun. You see, Amber's cousin Michelle works with me. Amber and Michelle are best friends (this is how these two got hooked up in the first place, Michelle and I behind the scenes!) Anyway, Michelle and I both want this to work out. We know, even if they don't yet, that this is a perfect match. I'm getting to hear everything that Amber says about Patrick and Michelle is getting to hear everything that Amber says about Patrick. Aren't we awful!!! It so much fun! I almost feel like I'm back in high school again, with all the "he said - she said" stuff. They went out to dinner and then sat and talked for a long time. She works about an hour and a half away and has to get up very early in the morning, so he didn't want to keep her out very late. I was dying for him to get home and see what he had to say. It was like pulling teeth to get anything out of him, and I was trying to be very careful not to seems too interested. He told me where they went to eat, told me that they talked about: family, friends, work, people they knew in school that the other might know (they went to different high schools in the same county (school rivals). He said he enjoyed himself. This of course was the "guy version". Michelle called me this morning and I got the "girl version", much more detailed!!! LOL  It was raining last night and Amber told Michelle that she had one regret. She said that when they came out of the restaurant Patrick said, "Hey, it's raining, we could dance in the rain", she told Michelle that she laughed, and now wishes she'd grabbed his hand and danced with him in the parking lot. Ohh, I wish she had done that, I think he would have loved that! Wouldn't that have been the cutest thing to see? Anyway, he asked what her plans were for the weekend and she said not much, so he said he'd call her Saturday. I have a good feeling about this. I think they're both the type to take it slow and cautiously. Amber told Michelle that she didn't want to get her hopes up and be hurt. Something tells me that she doesn't have to worry. I think that is exactly what he's thinking too. Silly kids....I'm already picturing what my grandchildren will look like!

I DIDN'T WIN POWERBALL

Well, I didn't win the  Powerball drawing last night. I guess all my plans are off. All the wonderful  charitable things I was planning to do will have to wait. But gosh, isn't it fun to "plan" what you'd do with the money! It was fun while it lasted.

Tonight is the night of my sons date. Somehow I think I'm way more excited about it than he is. He's such a good guy. Good looking, hard working, sweet, sweet guy. He had a girlfriend all through high school and since her he's just dated around. No one serious. That's fine. It's not like I'm trying to pawn him off on anyone. I just can see a lonliness in him that I don't think he even recognizes. He needs a someone special. He's such a sweetheart and girls are always hitting on him, but he's just not been interested in a serious relationship. I kind of think he's ready now. All of his friends are getting married and that's changed his lifestyle. His best buddies have wives now that are taking up a lot of their "guy" time. I think he's bored. This girl he's going out with tonight is so pretty and sweet. She is kind of in the same place as he is. All of her friends have gotten married and she's kind of at loose ends too. I'm crossing my fingers that some major chemistry develops tonight. She is exactly the kind of girl I've been praying for him to meet. What I'd give to be a little fly on the wall tonight.

I'm a matchmaker!!

I'm playing matchmaker, and it's not for a friend. It's for my 25 year old son. I'm trying to fix him up with the cousin of a co-worker. She was here at our house for the birthday party of my seven year old son on Sunday. She's beautiful, friendly, articulate, mature, and well, from all accounts so far, perfect. And ya know what? He liked her! She liked him! Now they have a date for tomorrow night. It will take everything in me not to grill him for details. I'm just going to sit back and wait for the chemistry to happen. And it will happen, I believe, because she is a Cancer and he is a Taurus. This is a good match. I'm so happy.

A really neat lady

Just One Girls Head Noise

Do yourself a favor, click on this link and go meet Pam. You'll find yourself inspired, I bet, as I have been by her love of  life and wonderful sense of humor. Some people just have a way of reaching out and grabbing your heart. Pam is one of those people. Keep her in your prayers, please.

 

Long time, no entry

Well, suffice it to say I kind of dropped the ball with my journal! I had the greatest of intentions when I started this...truly I did. When we got home from the wedding we went into "prepare for the reception" mode. The reception was held at our farm (we don't live there), outside, under tents. There was a lot of preparation involved! Anyway, that's what I was doing when we got home. Finally, the reception day came and went, and with it, my energy and health! I ended up sick, was totally run down and ended up in the hospital for three days. I'm fine now and disappointed in myself that I didn't keep up with this journal. I kept thinking that I couldn't just go on and talk about anything else until I'd told about the wedding. But, that's getting me nowhere. Soooo.....I'm just going to pick up and go on. I will probably tell some wedding stories along the way, but I am not going to stop writing just because the wedding story hasn't been told. Make sense? Good! Carry on.

Austin performng ring bearer duties

Is this not the most adorable little boy you've ever seen in your life? If you don't think so, you're dismissed....like NOW!  

 

 

I simply have to explain his tux: I had to work the night before we left for TN. I left the men of my household to pick up the tuxedos, with instructions to try them on and make sure they all fit. When I came home from work I specifically asked, "Do the tux's fit?" I was assured that they did. I was with the girls dressing for the wedding. All the guys dressed without  my supervision (LOL, that sounds so funny!). Anyway, I didn't see Austin at all in his tux before the wedding. Sooo...I'm seated at the wedding and I turn to watch the wedding party enter. When I saw Austin coming down the aisle in his tux I wanted to die! That tux jacket was at least 2 sizes too big for him. He looked like a little pea head with huge shoulders. His tie was not snug...and the jacket was not completely buttoned!! I'm not going to say what I want to say about this...nope, I'm not...but you know what I'm thinking!

 

The Wedding Story

There is so much to tell, I truthfully don't know where to start. A daughter's wedding day is quite a day in a woman's life. I've been told I filter everything in my life through my "feelings". I guess I do, but for the life of me, I don't know of any other way to experience things. I have never been and probably never will be a person who just witnesses things in a detached way. Maybe I would be better off if I could figure out how to do that, but since it doesn't seem to be in my realm of possibility, you're stuck with the "heart-view" of things. Sorry.

Sarah's wedding day was much anticapated and joyfully planned. She is, as I've said before a beautiful loving girl and Bennie is such a wonderful person that everyone who  knows them felt good about this wedding. It was a very happy occasion. They became engaged Christmas Eve of 2003. Bennie (a very very shy person) asked her to marry him on bended knee in front of her entire family (paternal side). Only those that know him could know what it cost him to do this! He had asked our permission to ask her three weeks before. At that time he asked if it would be alright to do it at the family Christmas gathering. I thought it was a wonderfully romantic idea and would be such a surprise for Sarah. But knowing how shy he is, I asked him if he were sure if he could do that. His answer to me was, "I can do anything for her". And do it, he did. With a wonderfully romantic flair. Her grandfather, who is not known to be an overly emotional person, said with a crack in his voice as soon as she'd said "yes", yelled out, "somebody fix that boy a drink". Her brother, Patrick, who is the world's best big brother and adores her said, as he wiped tears, "that was worse than "Old Yeller". There were not many dry eyes in the house that night. It was a celebration for sure.

The wedding was initally planned as a huge church wedding here, locally. She had always wanted an outside wedding. It was her dream since childhood. I so resisted this idea because of the threat of bad weather. I just was afraid that I'd not be able to handle the extra stress of worrying about what Mother Nature would throw into the mix of a day that was already full of stressful details. But she eventually won me over. If she wanted an outside wedding, we'd have an outside wedding. She then decided that she didn't want the big wedding that was being planned. She wanted an intimate wedding with mostly just family attending.Ok, we can do that too. It then was decided that since she and Bennie love the mountains, in particular the Great Smokey Mountains, that the wedding would be held there. Now, for those of you not familiar with The Smokey Mountains, and Gatlinburg, Tennessee, I will fill you in on a little background. Gatlinburg is very well known for it's wedding chapels and quicky weddings. You can get a marriage license and get married in a matter of hours there. It's second only to Las Vegas as the wedding capital of the world. That's a stigma that she really didn't like. She didn't want a traditional "Gatlinburg" wedding.  She didn't get married at a wedding chapel (although, there are some beautiful wedding chapels there). We went there in February and found the Park Vista Resort Hotel. It had a beautiful lawn area that was available for weddings. We fell in love with it. We booked it. We found a local florist and ordered the flowers. We searched and searched for the perfect photographer. We finally found one in North Carolina that would travel to Gatlinburg. We loved her portfolio, we booked her. We had a minister lined up to perform the ceremony. Sarah loves classical music. What could be more perfect than strings for a garden wedding. We began to search for a string tio We had one booked. All was well. We then began to book log cabins for traveling family and friends. The plans were made. Mom began to pray daily for a beatiful day with no rain. About a week before the wedding we found out that the string trio (from the Knoxville Symphony)  was not going to be available. Can you say PANIC!!! Oh my gosh, what were we going to do? The music was an integral part of the whole thing. It was absolutely necessary to have a string trio. The wedding planner that we were working with on that end set about finding us another one. She called me one day and said, "I'm not having much luck, it seems a member of the symphony is getting married on that same day and everyone from the symphony is going to her wedding. She told me that she had found a group of musicians that would be happy to play for us. But, could we change the music to Bluegrass, since that was what they played? WHAT??? NO! NO! NO! Please keep trying. She called me back a couple of days later...she had found a string trio. They could miss the symphony girl's wedding, but would have to be there for her reception. They could give us an hour tops. BUT, the price went up $150 and we were now goingto be required to provide them with  a canopy (tent). OK, whatever...book them. Wedding planner said she would arrange to have the canopy set up that day (Add an additional fee for this, of course).

We all arrived in Gatlinburg on Friday. The weather was beautiful. My prayers continued. Bennie's mom and dad hosted a wonderful rehearsal dinner at a restaurant and we then went to the Park Vista for a run through. Oh my goodness, this thing was suddenly very real to me. 

to be continued....