One hour

Sixty minutes. 3600 seconds.

Doesn't seem like much, does it?

But every mom knows the value of one hour.

A cranky baby down for a one hour nap.

One hour spent alone, whether it's at a grocery store or in your car on your way to work.

All your offspring playing together happily for an entire hour.  (Especially if they're in another room and you get to sit in a chair and read a good book while they're getting along so well!)

This time of year, the power of an hour is quite obvious to mothers.

Yep, I'm talking about Daylight Savings Time.

I like the idea of Daylight Savings.  I like it being lighter later in the evening.  I love knowing that warmer weather is just around the corner.

But the actual process of losing an hour of sleep?  Nope, I don't like that at all.  Especially when it comes to the kids.

How is it that one tiny hour has the power to mess up naps, bedtime, and the general mood of kids everywhere?

It will take my kids a good two weeks to get used to the time change.  When they were smaller, even longer.  And when my kids' sleep schedules are screwed up, the crank monster emerges, making them unrecognizable.

How do you feel about Daylight Savings?  Does it affect your kids?  What would you do with an hour to yourself today?

Growing up.

And no, I don't mean the kids.

I mean me.

Growing up, I heard from my teachers and my parents how I could be anything I wanted to be.  I was smart and full of potential.  Great encouraging words, but do you really believe them when you're seven years old and you just want to play Barbies forever?

I wanted to be a doctor.  A teacher.  A vet.  An architect.  A teacher (again).  A nurse.  Above all, I wanted to be a mom.  So I wanted a career that went well with mommyhood.

"Nurse" won.

I entered nursing school at the age of eighteen.  I really had no idea what I was getting myself into, except that I knew I liked to "help people".  If I would've known then what is included in "helping people", I may have chickened out.  Of course, if we knew what we would have to do as mommies, alot of us would've chickened out of that, too...

I was twenty when I graduated nursing school.  I went straight into a critical care internship program, and began training to be an intensive care nurse.

I was scared to death the morning of my first shift in the ICU, when I was "on my own".  My patients survived, I survived, and got up enough courage to return the next day.

Thirty-six hours a week, sometimes more.  Day shift for three weeks, then night shift for three weeks.  And so it went.

I got close to my patients and their families, sometimes.  I made friends with some of the nurses and doctors I worked with.  I grew up.  I became confident at doing a job I loved and that I was good at.

Some patients died.  Some were healed.  Some got better for awhile, then returned time and again, becoming "frequent flyers" in the ICU.

During this time, I got married and had babies.  When Elijah and Isabel were little, I was still working thirty-two hours a week.  By the time Gabe was born, I was able to cut back to two twelve-hour night shifts a week, which was perfect.  I was home five days/nights a week with my kids, but I had two nights to be with adults doing a job I loved.  Perfect complement to each other.

After fifteen years, my body grew tired of all the heavy physical labor involved in caring for the critically ill. Last spring I was given the opportunity to be a nursing supervisor, responsible for the 450-bed hospital, the patients and employees, and still able to be there only two nights a week.  I am no longer in direct patient care, but I work closely with the nurses and doctors who are, and I help the families when there is a problem or critical emergency.  I oversee the staffing on each nursing unit (eighteen different units in all) and make sure there are enough (but not too many) nurses.  I answer my phone at least a hundred times a shift, fielding questions and complaints from staff and customers alike.  I get to wear dress clothes instead of scrubs.  I have a lot of responsibility.  I love it.  But I must admit to missing the bedside part of taking care of patients.  Sometimes.

I don't know that I will stay in this position forever.  I am only thirty-six.  I just started working on my Bachelor's degree, which I will obtain in Summer 2012.  I am liking being back in college.  Sometimes I think of getting an Advanced Practice degree, once the kids are all in school.

My niece, Danielle, is almost done with her senior year of high school, and will be starting nursing school in the fall.  She was a baby when I started college; it's awesome to see her starting off on the path that I began exactly eighteen years ago.  I hope she loves it as much as I have.

It can be so difficult to find a career that is rewarding but doesn't require you to sacrifice your other dreams in the process.  Being a nurse has been that career for me.  I have been able to mesh motherhood and nursing into a great life for me and for my family.  I am so grateful to the people who told me I could do anything I wanted to do; I want to be that same person to my kids.  I want them to find their "perfect" career someday, one that is a good fit with their abilities, their personalities and the lives they want to lead.

I can't wait to see what they become when they grow up.

Heck, I can't wait to see what I become when I grow up...

I am blessed

Having three children is a blessing beyond measure.

Having a mix of boys and girl(s) makes it even better.

Having a daughter like Isabel is a gift like none other.

This girl is amazing.

She is mature beyond her years.

She helps me with household chores (laundry, dishes, taking care of Gabe) voluntarily, often cleaning the house unasked, "just to make things easier for you, Mom".

She is beautiful, but hates her freckles and the un-straightness of her teeth.  She doesn't see the beauty that I see so clearly (does any girl?).  Her kindness, her caring heart, her sense of humor, her intellect, and yes, even her freckles make her the most perfect daughter I could ever have asked for.

Isabel Nadine, I love you so much.  Thank you for every single little thing you do, but mostly, thank you for being my daughter and making me feel like the most-loved mom in the world.  You ARE the most wonderful girl I know.

Oh, Happy Day!

With Isabel and Elijah being the ages they are (10 and almost 12), they don't much like to be the center of attention on my blog.  An occasional tribute to their accomplishments is fine, but sharing a funny story or mishap from their lives?  Notsomuch.

Gabe was three when I started blogging.  Not only can he not read, he also doesn't mind being the center of attention...in fact, he thrives on it.  And he could care less if I share funny stories about him, as his ability to be embarrassed has not yet developed.

Which is why so many of my blog readers and friends know him so well.  Gabe is such a character; he says something hilarious at least five times a day; he doesn't know a stranger, and could make a friend in a box.  So many of the comments on a "Gabe post" are:  I love that kid!

Yep, we love him, too!  And he loves that y'all love him.  I read him your comments all the time.  He knows you by name, and even knows where some of you are from.

Take Suzann, (from The Olive Cottage/Lavender and Roses), for instance.

We started commenting on each other's blogs over a year ago.  I used her Thanksgiving Day prayer for my family dinner; we bonded over emails on New Year's Eve 2008, then started texting this summer.  We are kindred spirits, my sister-chicka and I.  The fact that she loves my Gabe just seals the deal.

Suzann's youngest son, Thomas, is Isabel's age.  When Suzann offered to send Gabe some Hot Wheels that she came across, I assumed she meant some of Thomas' old toys.  This past Friday, the UPS man delivered a package for Master Gabe...he was excited beyond words.

We called Suzann (for the first time ever) and not only did Gabe thank her for the "thousand of new Hot Wheels", but also told her about his miniature dollhouse and invited her over to play.

Told ya he could make a friend in a box.  Or after opening a box; whatever...

As a thank you for the sweet gift (Hot Wheels are the way to this boy's heart), Gabe and I are making Suzann some handmade cards.  We worked on them a bit yesterday, and the first thing Gabe said upon waking up this morning was, "C'mon, Mom.  Let's go downstairs and make some more cards to send to Chi-CAR-go!"

(I love that he remembered where Suzann lives!)

Thanks so much, Suzann!  You made Gabe's day...even his whole weekend.  Getting a special package from a blog friend of mommy's is the real deal!  And Isabel and Elijah are such great older siblings, they weren't jealous at all; just pleased to see Gabe so happy, truly.

It's Carabee!

Random Integer Generator

Here are your random numbers:

2 

Timestamp: 2010-03-04 22:32:54

Her answer was more creative than correct, but Mr. RIG picked her number...

Carabee, you are the winner!

Let me know what kind of cards you would like (birthday, thank you, friendship, etc) and what your favorite colors are, and I'll custom make you a pack of 8 cards.  Congrats!

Jen's husband and Kat got it right (Rebecca Jo admitted to cheating), but the real question is, when would you ever feel it necessary to text "A Bird in The Hand is Worth Two in the Bush"?  Thanks for playing!

A tutorial

New to texting?  Need a tutorial?  Well, then, read on...

I just started texting last summer, after much peer pressure by my sister and some friends.  Once I started, I quickly became addicted.  Sometimes, though, I get a text and think, "What did they just say?!".  I decided to google "texting abbreviations" and get my own tutorial.  OMG, LOL, I couldn't believe what some of these things mean!  For instance, did you know 1174 means nude club?  Hello, my house number is 1174...better not text my address to anyone!

Here are some more:

*$ = Starbucks

ACORN = A Completely Obsessive Really Nutty Person

BYOA = Bring Your Own Advil

TY = Thank You

Ready to test your texting prowess?

Here we go:

What does this text mean?  ABITHIWTITB

Figured it out yet?

How about a contest?  Leave a comment with your answer (no fair googling, either!), and I'll pick a winner at random on Friday.  Winner will receive a pack of handmade cards made my moi :)  Good luck.

Do you text?  What's the weirdest text you've ever received?

My name is Heather and I am a sap.

what's the last thing you cried about?

Other than the fact that I cry at the drop of a hat over any sappy commercial (Hallmark has it out for me) or tearjerker movie (Terms of Endearment), or even a good book (The Five People You Meet in Heaven and My Sister's Keeper), one thing that can always bring on the tears is any school event my kids are involved in.  Concerts, awards ceremonies, school plays...you name it, my tear ducts are working overtime, much to my kids' chagrin.  They're happy tears, but I am crying just the same.

The last time I truly bawled my eyes out, though, was last Friday night, watching this movie:

Gran Torino 

with Clint Eastwood

I'm sure I would've cried about this movie no matter what, but the similarities of Clint's character to my own dad just does my heart in everytime.  I teared up at the end of the show, lying in bed next to Joe, and then the floodgates opened and I did the ugly cry, blubbering on Joe's shoulder, missing my dad like crazy and hating the fact that he died (lung cancer, just like the movie even).  Joe was so sweet, holding me until the sobs subsided, handing me a tissue and not even complaining about the huge puddle of tears on his shirt...

So, what's the last thing you cried about?  Are you a sap, or a pillar of strength?  Wanna play along?  Click on the link above to go to Shannon's blog, Welcome to the Nuthouse, and link up!