and so I'm a nurse

I woke up this morning a nurse. 

"What an accomplishment," so many have said to me in reference to passing my boards.  I feel a little funny about that.  Deciding to go to nursing school was probably the most selfish decision I've ever made.  My family suffered, my marriage was stressed, my children were probably borderline neglected, my Miss Tammie (daycare) was used and abused.  I was a less productive employee, a short tempered mom and a self centered wife while in the program.  So, thanks for the compliment, but in true Grammy style, this compliment really goes out to those poor unfortunate souls who had to endure my wrath while I trudged through the nursing program.

Thank You Scott for allowing me to pursue something that took up so much of my time and our money and required you to own the laundry and dishes and the mop.  You have been an incredible driving force.  Even when it would have been easier and better for all of us, you never let me quit.  You ignored the mess in my van that comes with living life between the classroom and clinicals and the hospital seven days a week.  I would have never made it through this without you.  Thank you.

Thank You Miss Tammie for opening your front door at 4:45 am and inviting us in and helping me build nests for the boys on your sofa.  You were my saving grace last semester when I was pulled into the office and warned that if I missed more than 6 minutes of class I would be dismissed form the program.  You took my boys through step throat, twice and once with pink eye.  I also recall dropping off Tommy one day with a gaping wound on his forehead.  "Call me if you can't get the bleeding to stop."  We would have been kicked out of a traditional daycare long ago.  The entire time you were going through a complicated pregnancy yourself and dealing with far more drama than you ever deserve.  Who was that woman that dropped off her kids just so she could go to some stupid class everyday?  Yeah sorry, that was me.

Employer who will remain nameless.  Thank you for looking the other way when I had my text books out studying the stupid endocrine system.  Thank you for allowing me to study while on the clock every day.  I even recall a certain charge nurse who shut down an ICU room for the day in order to allow me to glitter and glue my ADHD project.  I owe you printer toner and paper and probably a glue stick or two.  There were many days when my dinner was a left over patient tray because I was far to busy to cook.  I would have never passed a test if I didn't have real patients to play with or real nurses brains to pick or real doctors willing to let me assist them a the bedside.  In spite of my lack of productiveness some days you hung on to me and looked the other way all in hopes of me finally graduating and coming full circle to become a nurse. 

Thank you Father Mac for excusing me from mass each Sunday.  I was racked with guilt until one day you saw me in the ICU and said to me, "Don't feel guilty for a minute about not being at church on Sundays.  While we are there at mass talking about GOD's work, you are here doing GOD's work."  You're excused.  Thank you.  Also thank you little communion ladies who came to the ICU every Sunday to bring communion to the patients.  You would seek me out and administer my weekly dose of communion and insist that I pray with you (in the hallway, or patient room or nurse's lounge).  I have no doubt that you played a part in my surviving the program.  GOD probably listens to the prayers of little ladies like you.  Thank you for including me in some of them.

Thank you Mom for picking up your phone sometimes three times a day to allow me to vent, being my ethical sounding board, patting my back and laughing at my latest class pranks.  Even from 1,200 hundred miles away, I still wanted nothing more than to get off the school bus and pull a report card full of A's out of my backpack.  Thank you for holding me accountable.  Without your perseverance, the boys would still be behind on their immunizations and Finn wouldn't have been screened and signed up for speech therapy yet.  For the record, Miss Hewitt did not call today with his busing schedule, I will follow up with her this afternoon, because I know you're gonna ask me.  Even though you may not understand the Kreb's cycle or the care about metabolic acidosis, you were sympathetic when I complained about having to learn them them.  I love knowing that I can call you and tell you it was a bad day.  No details required, I only had to talk about it if I want to.  Scott wants details and plans and resolutions and analysis and sometimes I don't have the energy to rehash it or any desire to.  You take what I give and don't demand answers.  Many of our conversations involved me talking BLAH BLAH BLAH and you just listening.  I think I would have stabbed my eye out with my tuberculin syringe if I didn't know that no matter how awful this clinical day was, at the end I could walk out to my van and dial you up and dump it on you.  If you ever need to vent, call me, I think I owe you a few hundred hours.

Thank you co-students for putting up with my endless sense of humor.  Laughter is one of my favorite coping mechanisms.  For those of you who may have found yourself urinating in the men's bathroom when suddenly all lights were shut off,  I apologize.   The thought of you in there alongside a perfect stranger with you pants undone groping around to find your way out...  The giggles I got from that were therapeutic.  If you ever arrived home and opened your backpack only to find the classroom clock or part of the colon mannequin, again, sorry. 
You were all so encouraging when I hit the wall, we all took our turns.  Most of you were accepting when I laid down the disclaimer that I was a terrible friend too.  I'm not a reliable texter of facebooker, I will only show up to roughly one out of every ten invites and I lose touch really quickly.  But you all put up with me despite my numerous faults including allowing me to compete with you even though you didn't really want to compete with me.  I am a better nurse because of all you. 

To my nursing instructors:  I would like to thank you, but I'm not really ready for that.  I'm still suffering from a little post traumatic stress disorder.  I'm a nurse now and for that I'm thankful, but quite frankly, you were less than understanding and more than a little frustrating. 
My boys, my dear sweet boys.  Thank you for.....  Hmmmmm.... I can't thank you for allowing me to become a nurse, because you would have stopped me if you could have.  I guess I really want to say sorry.  You all suffered to a certain extent and I'm sorry mommy didn't decide to be a traditional college student and graduate before I got married and brought all of you into this world.  But that would have required planning and if I was a real planner, you probably wouldn't even exist.  So I'm just sorry.  You all seem to have made it through OK even though there were some close calls. 

A short list of items that I had to Forgo during the nursing program include but are not limited to the following:  Immunizations, PTA meetings, 1 parent teacher conference, the Seder dinner at church (count your blessings, parsley does not taste good), the occasional signing of the student planner, countless birthday party invites, career day, the Turkey Trot, yearly physicals, one dental cleaning. 

I didn't always chose to skip those things, but was required by a program that I did chose to enter.  It's your time now.  Mommy is not going to go to school for ANYTHING in the near future.  It's your turn now to be my priority again and believe me I'm paying for it.  Swim practice five nights a week, meets on the weekends, a birthday party for a friend this weekend and lots of quality time at the cottage. 

Elliott my dear old orange cat.  On several occasions you got a bit hungry and went for some periods with no water.  But do understand that is is difficult to water you often when you will only drink running water.  Also in my defense, the toilet is always open and I know I've seen you drink from it so don't pretend that you were ever actually that dehydrated.  I also let your shots slip by and for that I apologize.  I will try to fit you in here one of these days.  Thank you for being my late night study buddy and for keeping my lap warm everytime I sat down to study.  We spend many dark nights at the kitchen table making drug cards.  Thanks.

To all those innocent bystanders who endured my short temper and lack of patience.  This will include but again not be limited to:

Chatty bus stop girl
Chatty bus stop girl's mother
The school choice office
The IRS
The local Sheriffs department
Over zealous seven eleven employee
School bookkeeper Miss Bell (although you know you weren't actually innocent either)
Crabby little aggressive woman in Target who snapped at my boys


And anyone else that I may have lost my temper with or failed to give the utmost respect to:
I apologize.

You have all suffered over the last year, and so this morning I wake up as a nurse.

blessed

 

I could have wound up with a man that smothered me with his blanket of jealously…

Instead, I wound up with a man that trusts me completely and is even able to laugh and shake his head at the incredibly inappropriate text conversations that go one between myself and some of my male co workers with similar senses of humor. 

Complete trust and confidence in his position as my husband

 

I could be on this parenting journey with a man that is distanced around my children…

Instead, I am on this journey with a man that will willingly dive into any poopy situation and isn’t too busy to lay on his belly and play Matchbox cars.

Involved and interested in our little creations

 

I could easily find myself shacked up with a business partner sort of relationship resulting from the strains of parenting and working and living life…

Instead, I find myself in the arms of a man who is more in love with me than that October day I met him at the alter.

His love grows more and more each day, instead of a fading spark it’s a regular bon fire these days

 

I could be paired up with a dream crusher…

Instead, GOD has placed me with a complimenting partner that will quietly rein me back down to earth when the dreams get a little to far fetched.

Common sense and a gentle persuasiveness

 

I imagined I would be the wife to a man’s man, the kind that only mows the lawn and pounds nails and watches football and drinks beer.

Instead, I am the wife of a man who is owns an edger and a tractor and a blower but is well versed in the proper use of the lingerie bag that must be used when he washes my over priced Victoria Secret bras and is able to bath four boys with efficiency and who makes a bed far better than I could ever dream of.  He is willing to tear up during a country song that touches him.

A scratchy five o’clock shadow but soft enough to rock an exhausted toddler to sleep

 

How did I make such an incredible choice at 19 years old?

Why did GOD feel it appropriate to put a man of this caliber in my life when I could have married a multitude of disappointments around me?

How did my boys get so lucky to have a father that would do anything for them, even in the middle of the night or on a Thursday night after an exhausting day of delivering packages in a Fed Ex truck with no air conditioning on a sweltering summer day?

 

 

Blessed.

napping

Every time we idle of our channel in the boat on another excursion we find something different or something new.  Somethings however remain consistent.  Like the fact that every time we head out the little boys pass out.  

Maybe it’s the squinting in the sun or the constant droning hum of the motor.

 

They get snuggly and in no time are drooling and dreaming.

 

It’s not uncommon for them to fall asleep before we even reach the end of our canal, sleep the entire excursion away and then wake up just in time to watch Daddy park the boat back on the lift.  I can’t even recall the last nap they took inside the cottage in their little makeshift cottage beds.  Fresh air and sunshine does this to little boys and I love it.  

arrival

 

 

 

When we finally spent our first weekend at the cottage I realized, we have finally arrived.  This is why families have cottages.  I get it.  Soon after I lazed in my repurposed Craigslist hammock and I thought, “Wow, I’ve really arrived now!  Why have I never owned a hammock before?”  These last two weeks as we sped through the inter coastal waterways with my floppy green hat and my super tan legs I realized we have definitely arrived.  Arrived in the way a motorcycle enthusiast must feel as he cruises down the back country roads on his new Harley for the first time.  This is the lifestyle I’ve always watched from a distance and now am a part of and it’s incredible.

It’s really deeper than that though.  All the material things that have some how worked out and come our way over the last few months are really just a set of tools being used to bring us together.  Not that a boat or hammock alone will change one’s life, but the opportunity to spend time at the cottage every weekend or spend lazy Sundays in the two person hammock buried underneath four little men or trapped in a boat for six hours sitting in close proximity to each other.  Miles from wi fi access and cell service.  Just our family and the ocean breeze and the islands and the mangroves. 

Our family is tighter and tighter after each weekend we get away.  The boys are eating up the wholesome country lifestyle that we slip into every Saturday.  I now have a habit of leaving my cell phone in the drink holder in the van.  It’s useless to me on the island and not because the cell service on the island is less than desirable, but because I am already with my family.  I’m surrounded by all those who matter to me.  Except for my mom up north whom receives an ongoing and off going island phone call updating her on the sunburns and dolphins and quirky cottage issues. 

I woke up last Sunday morning and started mentally preparing excuses for missing church.  Sunday church would better fit in my schedule Monday through Friday when I have my date book out and am actually setting the alarm clock.  Weekends at the cottage are designed to be relaxing with no commitments.  Church however was designed for Sunday and GOD doesn’t live on island time like I do.  It’s never a question for Scott.  He wakes and rounds up boys and searches the cottage dresser for appropriate church clothes.  We have two drawers in the dresser.  The top drawer contains clothes for Scott and I.  This is where I retire my holey (not church holy, actually full of holes) before they meet their maker in the trash can.  The bottom drawer contains clothes for the boys.  Yes, they all share one drawer. 

I rolled over and looked at Scott, no excuse ready.  “We are all going to church,” he announced in his voice of reason.  I sighed but didn’t argue.  I knew he was right.  Since our weekends are just wholesome family time now, church is even more important and needs to play a priority.  Our children are watching and I want them to know how important church is for our family.  Scott’s mom and dad brought him to church every Sunday and since I was about 19, Scott has insisted that we go every week.  I want my boys to grow up knowing that this is a priority and feel confident in requiring that their own families attend as well.  I recall on vacation in Mexico finding a church and sitting through a mass.  Even though they didn’t speak English, they spoke Catholic.  It was comforting to see how a religion can span the country and how much I actually understood through the music and the tradition that originally seemed so intimidating as a non-Catholic. 

As I was shooing the boys toward the van we heard some splashing down by the dock.  We raced down to find a dolphin fishing in our canal.  We stood in silence watching his powerful body create a wake as he surfaced and dove below chasing schools of fish past our dock.  Incredible. I feel a bit like the girls in seventh grade with their colorful Lisa Frank dolphin notebooks.  Imagine a bunch of middle school girls in Northern Wisconsin obsessed with dolphins and unicorns and Persian cats.  I was too poor to own Lisa Frank notebooks and therefore declared that they were ridiculous.  But, maybe they were actually on to something with the dolphins.  They are stunning.  Majestic and powerful and captivating.  We were graced by this dolphin’s presence Sunday morning.   A little reward for doing the right thing and going to church.  Thank you. 

The minute I sat down in the pew and knelt to say my prayers I was reminded that this is just where I need to be.  Each time I hesitate to go to church and then end up going the message seems even more personal than usual.  I swear sometimes GOD plants a message in the priest's mouth that is to be delivered to me and me alone.  Several points that have been weighing heavily on my mind were addressed.  It clarified some things that Scott and I really needed to hear right now, however, Scott was conveniently in the bathroom with a little boy during said message.  I’m not sure he actually believed me when I reiterated the point.  Figures!

As we drove back to the cottage I issued the citations.  “Gavin, you lose 7 minutes of fishing for sitting your butt on the pew while kneeling, twice, and also for poking Finn and making him squeal during communion.  Tommy, you lose 15 minutes of fishing for leaving the pew to get a drink, twice, and for sitting while we stood during the Lord’s prayer and for offering to bring Finn back by Dad and then never returning.”  Punishments were served and the tide came in sun was received and bikes were ridden and mosquitoes were swatted and PBJ sandwiches were wolfed down at an alarming rate and then the tide went out and then the sun started to fall.

An evening dolphin/sunset cruise is quickly becoming one of my favorite times to be out on the boat.  The boys have full bellies and are exhausted from hours of playing in the sun and the surf and we take a mellow cruise while slowly chasing the sunset.  We are joined on all sides of the boat sometimes by the playful dolphins and I am reminded that all the technology in the world can’t match the great vastness of the ocean and the wonder of all creatures and the closeness it can bring a family immersing themselves in it each weekend. 

 

We’ve arrived.  How do I make sure we stay?

 

 

hand in hand

We spent last Sunday on the new boat that goes hand in hand with the new cottage…

 

We hit the water early and headed out for Picnic island which goes hand in hand with picnics of course…

 

 

We meandered through the mangroves which go hand in hand with any waterfront FL land…

 

We used the primitive island bathroom which go hand in hand with most uninhabited islands…

 

Not surprisingly, I took lots of photos which go hand in hand with all island adventures…

 

We posed for photos in our new required attire which goes hand in hand with our new boating lifestyle…

 

We enjoyed the sea gulls land that go hand in hand with any beach…

 

We enjoyed the private bay that went hand in hand with the private island…

 

Then we finally climbed aboard our boat and headed home to find the aloe that goes hand in hand with the sunburn.