An evening with Edward...

Lula, I'm so sad you missed our ladies night with Edward and Bella. Edward sends his love; Bella seemed a little standoffish, like she wanted to tell us to keep our hands off of her man, but was just too polite to do so. Seriously, no one knows better than Bella how irresistable Edward is...she should cut us some slack. Sigh...no vampire has ever looked so good.

Can you believe I forgot my camera? I could not get out of my house fast enough tonight! My kids (especially Gabe) were driving me to drink. Obnoxious amounts of alcohol would only begin to calm my frazzled nerves. Maybe it had a little to do with my lack of sleep after working last night. Maybe it's just that my kids really need to go back to school and get into a routine and stop being bored. Maybe I just need a freakin' break. I'm not sure, but a girls night out couldn't have come at a better time.

Becky, Kay and I jumped in my van and drove to the Melting Pot, where Catherine was waiting for us, trying to get in a few more pages of Twilight before our dinner. We are all four at different points of reading the series: Catherine is in the middle of Twilight; Becky just started New Moon, I'm halfway through Eclipse, and Kay finished all fours books in one week (that's gotta be a record!). Kay says her favorite is Breaking Dawn, Becky is struggling with the sadness and heartbreak that is New Moon (at first, anyway), Catherine is loving Twilight, and I am so mad that I haven't gotten to read at all today.

After daiquiris, martinis and wine, we fondued our way through dinner, talking and laughing about everything under the sun, then finally making our way to Edward and Bella when the dessert was brought out (fitting, somehow). We talked about how Stephenie Meyer had the incredible gift of making you get so lost in a book, you forgot you were only reading and not actually living it. Of how reading Twilight brought back all those memories of being seventeen, good and bad. Thoughts of biology class, and the cafeteria, and the boys who gave us flutters in our stomachs when they "accidentally" touched our arm. What a talent to be able to appeal to women of all different ages, sixteen to sixty and every age in between.

All I can say is my children should write a thank you note to Catherine, Kay and Becky for saving their lives tonight. I needed this night like I need air to breathe. Thank you, girlfriends, for keeping me sane, (and for listening to my gory hospital stories without retching). You all are the best. Absolutely.

And Lula and Michelle (my big sis), we missed you. Maybe next time?

My First Tag

Thanks, Melissa, for picking me for my very first game of "blogger tag"! I feel like a kid at recess, being the first one picked for the popular girls' kickball team :)

For those of you who have never played, here's how it works:

First you post the rules:

1. Link the person who tagged you.
2. Mention the rules on your blog.
3. Tell about 6 unspectacular quirks you possess.
4. Tag 6 following bloggers by linking them.
5. Leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger’s blogs letting them know they’ve been
tagged.

Then sit back and watch what the taggees write about themselves. Should be fun, so here goes:

One: I am as OCD as they come. My dishwasher has to be loaded a particular way (glasses on top, plates facing the same direction, spoons up/forks down, etc). Beds need to be made every day (Joe never does this). I have to be the one to put away the groceries; if Joe tries to help, I end up moving all the items around until they are "right". I can tell right away if a decoration or knicknack has been moved in my house, and I can't sleep until it is put in its proper place.

Two: It makes me crazy when my kids try to talk to me when I am blogging. Isabel especially likes to read over my shoulder and comment on this or that. Hello...Momma needs some space here.

Three: As OCD as I am, it does not bother me that the puppy has made a horrific mess of tissues and pencils and God only knows what else under my bed. I can't see it, therefore it doesn't exist.

Four: I love to get a new calendar. I love writing down all our plans and schedules for the month, then looking back at the end of the year and seeing all the things we did. I wish I would have done what Becky did, though: she has saved EVERY calendar from the time she and her husband were married (1993)! What a great idea!

Five: I grind my teeth at night. Have done it since I had two teeth to grind together (according to my mom). Once a teacher asked me if I had my canine teeth filed (they are smooth and flat, not pointy at all). If I drink tequila, I grind them so hard it wakes me up. Ouch!

Six: I am so addicted to blogging, it's not even funny. I feel like ya'll are my friends, although we have never met (except for you, Catherine). I am still holding out for a blogger reunion on December 12th (hello...Twilight movie premiere!). Who's in?

There, six things you never wanted to know about me and now do :) Now it's my turn to be "it". I tag:

Jennifer, Catherine, Melissa Lee, Lizzy, Jen and Angela...You're it! Fellow readers, click on the names of these awesome girls to take a peek at their blogs. They are my favorites! (BTW, Lula, I didn't tag you because I saw Melissa already did. But you are on my list of faves, without a doubt. You rock, girl!)

Mean mom survey

Was your Mom mean?

I know mine was.
We had the meanest mother in the whole world!
While other kids ate candy for breakfast,
We had to have cereal, eggs, and toast.
When others had a Pepsi and a Twinkie for lunch,
We had to eat sandwiches.
And you can guess our mother fixed us a dinner that was
Different from what other kids had, too.
Mother insisted on knowing where we were at all times. You'd think we were convicts in a prison.
She had to know who our friends were
And what we were doing with them. She insisted that if we said we
Would be gone for an hour, we would be gone for an hour or less.
We were ashamed to admit it,
But she had the nerve to break
The Child Labor Laws by making us work.
We had to wash the dishes, make the beds,
Learn to cook, vacuum the floor, do laundry,
Empty the trash and all sorts of cruel jobs.
I think she would lie awake at night
Thinking of more things for us to do.
She always insisted on us telling the truth,
The whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
By the time we were teenagers,
She could read our minds
And had eyes in the back of her head.
Then, life was really tough!
Mother wouldn't let our friends just honk
The horn when they drove up
They had to come up to the door
So she could meet them.
While everyone else could date
When they were 12 or 13,
We had to wait until we were 16.
Because of our mother we missed out
On lots of things other kids experienced.
None of us have ever
Been caught shoplifting, vandalizing other's
Property or ever arrested for any crime.
It was all her fault.

Now that we have left home, we are all educated, honest adults.
We are doing our best to be mean parents just like Mom was.
I think that is what's wrong with the world today.
It just doesn't have enough mean moms !!!


So, the question is, are you a mean mom? I know I am. And my mom definitely was, thank God. Thanks to my sister, Rhonda, for sending me this email. She is also a mean mom (hey, we learn from the best!)

Inspiration

I forgot to include this photo of my BFF, Becky and her husband, Mike, from our cookout last week. They are such a neat couple who totally beat the odds of marrying at seventeen, having four babies, owning their own business, and still being able to laugh together. I love hanging out with them...they are an inspiration to all married couples.

Becky, you have no idea what your friendship means to me. I missed you last week. I missed our workouts (just look at my butt, OMG, it's getting bigger by the minute), I missed our conversations about kids, husbands and life in general. I seriously can't wait until school starts and we get back to a routine again.

I have some advice for you: DO NOT get on that scale again until after the kids have gone to school and we have had two solid weeks of working out. Do you hear me? Put the darn thing in the closet if you have to. (And lay off the powdered sugar donuts. It's for your own good that I'm talking here.) Just remember how far we have come since last year. You are doing fine. Muscle weighs more than fat, and you look way more muscular today than you did last week. Must be from lifting that baby up and down. Really, I'm sure it's muscle, not the donuts :)

For those of you who do not know the history of me and Becky, here is the short version. Our sons played on the same flag football team at our YMCA last fall. I struck up a conversation with Becky at practice one evening, and we talked at the games on Saturday mornings. Once football was over, we knew our friendship was just beginning, so we had to find an excuse to stay in touch. We started working out together at the Y, and by January of this year, we knew we were BFF's. She inspires me to be a better mom and a better wife. We just "click", having so much in common it's scary. I haven't had a friend like her since, well, high school. With less drama and more laughs, though. I hope everyone reading this has a friend like Becky. She is truly Heaven-sent.

Back to School

Only 11 more days until school starts. All three of my babies will be in a classroom this year. 5th grade, 3rd grade, and preschool.

I hate to see them go.

Really, I do. What on earth will I do with my time?

I'm sure I'll think of something :)

The Real World

When I decided to go to nursing school (at the ripe old age of 18), I had a vague idea of what a nurse does. Taking temperatures, listening to people's lungs and hearts, placing a cool cloth on their brow when they had a fever, giving medications...that was about all I could envision. I had never been a patient in a hospital before, and the only experience I had was visiting my grandparents (scary) and seeing my little baby niece in Children's when I was 14 (equally scary). I knew that I wanted to "help people", and I also knew that as a nurse, I could pick my schedule and make good money working part time, making it easier to raise my family (yes, I had these thoughts as an 18-year-old girl...crazy, I know).

To make a long story, well, longer, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. The first year that I was out on my own as a critical care nurse, I almost decided to quit and go back to college to get my teaching degree. What do you mean, I have to clean up that river of poop flowing from my patient's bed? What do you mean, I have to watch as my 37-year-old patient dies from an untreatable cancer, leaving behind his wife and three babies, four days before Christmas? And then be the one to comfort them, when I can barely hold myself together? I'm not sure what made me stay (probably the thought of more student loans, actually), but I am so glad that I did. Now, fourteen years later, I feel that I have "come into my own" as a nurse. I am competent, caring, compassionate (most of the time) and I truly love my job. Most of the time. But I have to say, I much prefer to work during the night. Sounds crazy, I know. All it takes to cement this idea in my head, though, is to work an occasional day shift, like I did yesterday.

Day shift is an entirely different ballgame in the world of nursing. For starters, I had to wake up to an alarm clock yesterday! My children are my personal alarm clock, so I am not used to that annoying sound. I have the usual routine of getting up, drinking my coffee while I browse my blogs and check my emails, then start the rest of the day. Yesterday, I had to race to work, not even having time to drink more than two sips of coffee before the world went crazy.

In my ICU, we never have more than two patients to care for at one time. If you have a really sick patient, then they are a "1 to 1", meaning one nurse for that one patient. Yesterday, I had a really sick patient, but we were short-staffed, so I still had to care for my other patient, as well. I had plenty of help, but I still felt extremely stressed that my little guy wasn't getting the care he deserved. But I had a 33-year old woman who was suffering from a UTI that got into her blood stream, putting her into septic shock, which means she is dangerously close to dying if we don't bust our butts to do the things needed to save her. In a twelve hour shift, I sat down for maybe a total of 25 minutes. Ate lunch in 5 minutes. Only peed once. And had to deal with a derogatory doctor who doesn't think women are capable of anything. So frustrating. Despite all that, I felt good at the end of my shift. Because I knew what to do and how to do it, without much help from the doctors. And my patient was doing much better when I left. Thanks to all the great teamwork from the other nurses that I worked with, and the hard work of the residents (doctors in training), and not so much from the jerk-off attending physician in charge.

So even though I had NO idea what I was getting into, and though some shifts just totally kick your butt, I have to say that I truly love being a nurse. I am doing what God called me to do. And making money doing it. And getting to stay home five days a week in between my two nights of working. No, I don't get much sleep, but as I always say, I can sleep when I'm dead :)

I have read a few comments from people who are thinking about becoming nurses. All I can say to them is, do it. It is hard work, going to nursing school and learning the ropes as a new grad. But it so worth it, once you find your niche. There are so many things you can do as a nurse, it is mind-boggling.

Now, I might have a different viewpoint on Monday morning, after I have worked my 60th hour this week. Joe returns to work next week, so I had to get all of my extra hours in this week, to help pay for school supplies. I will be exhausted, but then I only have to work one shift next week, so I will have a chance to recover. I have great plans for next week (can't wait 'til Thursday night, Catherine and Becky and Michelle and Kay!). That's enough to get me through!

Blackmail

Danielle, it was only fourteen years ago when you learned to pee on the potty, demonstrating your skills for us at Mamaw Carol's house, full of pride (and something else). Look at that sweet smile, saying cheese while holding onto that toilet edge for dear life. Yes, you were tiny enough to fall in. (Don't worry, none of your friends read my blog. And that won't change as long as you commit to one year of free babysitting for all three of your cousins. Hey, I know a blackmail opportunity when I see one!) Anyway, in the blink of an eye, you went from mastering the potty to mastering this: your very first car...

All I can say is that I am very proud of you and the awesome young woman you are turning out to be. Actually, I can say a lot more...Wear your seatbelt, don't text and drive, pay attention to the crazies on the road, and always call your mother when you get to where you are going so she doesn't have a panic attack every other day. Okay?

BTW, don't forget about the blackmail. Your mom has access to your Myspace page, and she can easily post a link to my blog :)

Just kidding.

Kind of.