balance

It's 9:18 in the morning. I've come to dread the mid-morning hours lately. It's usually when Little Miss is falling apart, needing a nap but of course she doesn't know that. So I rock and sway, and shush-shush-shush and make my figure eights (to help her cerebellum develop, my friend tells me. All these things we instinctively do with babies have a purpose). But, today, look! Maybe I was less tense and frustrated, and she could feel that and so she just went to sleep instead of fighting so, so hard. And my boys are shirtless, eating popcorn and doing Sunday morning things (inside, outside, building robots, watching the mesmerizing Pingu on Neflix and leaning back on Penny). I am filled with love and new energy.

Life is very one-day-at-a-time right now, and I'm getting to be okay with that. A few days a week, I'm at work--getting to do amazing things like teach about breastfeeding and wheel families out of the hospital with their new little person. Other days, it's taking care of an elderly woman after a heart cath or making sure my patient who's withdrawing for the fifteenth time has what she needs and doesn't harm herself. It's twelve hours of safeguarding. Some days it's a break to be there.

But then I love being here too. It's taken time to figure out this new rhythm--for a while there I entertained the thought of just quitting my job for a season. And, if that need became apparent I would do it easily. But I've realized that it might be a sanity-saver for me--I go out, challenge myself in a different way than I'm challenged here, and it helps. I love coming home to everyone, all happy and ragged from their Papa day--and his eyes are so tired and we both get it. We're closer for it.

The home days are slow to get going, and I start off with a long to-do list and then have to prioritize as the day goes on--and even so I'm folding laundry after the kids are all asleep. The trick is the same as it's always been--stop and enjoy the gift of another glimpse into childhood. Squeeze in the chores where I can. Lower my expectations. Remember Ann Voskamp's words: life is not an emergency; it's a gift.

............

Here are some pictures of the nursery we put together just a few weeks before Little Miss came to stay with us. I'm still adding touches here and there, but I'm so glad it was mostly done before she came. Needless to say, it was fun. Spray paint and hot glue are my friends.

blustery Sunday

It is so, so windy outside. The air is full of dust; the mountains are totally hidden from sight. I'm really glad we didn't plant the garden like we had talked about... Anyway, some phone pics from the week:

I like our little routines with these guys. These days are sweet and simple, mostly--and never am I more reminded of that than after a hectic, taxing day at work. Yesterday after I finally finished charting it was 9 pm and I was making my rounds, replacing some forms on the patient's doors and checked in on a pleasantly confused older man who I was a little worried might try to get out of bed on his own. He called, "Come in and talk a while!", and so I did..."Whatcha doing?", I asked. "Oh, just thinking." He paused. "What else can you do at bedtime?"

I'm often taken by how much babies and the elderly look alike and I just saw my sweet Silas' face in his face (this happened all the time when I returned to work after having Silas--somehow I managed to not break down weeping every five minutes but I sure wanted to). I explained that I was going to go home and sleep and who would be taking care of him that night, in case he had forgotten, and tucked his blankets around his chin, and we said goodnight. I had a good cry as I drove home, letting the day go. In my profession I often feel like I'm letting someone down, tending to the most pressing need. I don't think I've ever left work feeling totally satisfied with my day. I'm not sure that ever happens, because I see the experienced nurses running around just like I am, and staying late to chart, and dropping one of the fourteen balls they're juggling. Maybe it's just the nature of the beast. I love it except for when I hate it...

So we're off for Spring Break this upcoming week and planning a quick getaway to Albuquerque this weekend. I'm excited to maybe catch up on a bit of sleep, and hang out with both boys during the day. And maybe plant that garden if the weather starts cooperating.

Happy Sunday!

God rest ye merry

Yesterday was a weird and wonderful day. It was slow and sleepy all morning at work but then the drama began, and just continued on and on like it does. I sat down to chart after finally giving report and didn't even know where to begin. "Dive in and don't come out until you're done", an older nurse advised, on her way out. Yeah, pretty much. I was there late enough to realize I miss working nights. There's a totally different energy and camaraderie going on. I felt like sticking around just to hang out, look at ridiculous chest x-rays, talk smack about the doctors and just generally shoot the breeze. You have time to do that kind of thing on nights. Too bad it's so hard on the rest of my life, or I would totally go back to it.

So I tapped away at the keyboard until I was satisfied with my accounts of the day (because if you don't document it, it didn't happen says the nursing school instructor in my head) chatted a bit, and finally packed my backpack, made my way out of the maze of the ICU, clocked out, and walked out the doors to a deliciously cold and rainy night. I felt a little like having a John Locke moment (the one from Lost, not the civil society guy) it was so nice. There are things I really love about my job. The feeling of going home, completely spent, is one of them.

I got home and Ricky had three surprises for me. One, he hung up Christmas lights outside. Two, he learned to play this version of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen/We Three Kings that we've been hearing on Pandora and love:

and three-he picked up my cell phone that I was sure was long gone. I left it at a store the day before and was sure someone took it, but turns out it was still there, and they called him. 

I'm so full of love for this guy, for a million little reasons.  

Today we're all home. The boys are playing, Ricky's working on his take-home final and I'm crafting, sipping, browsing and ignoring the whites in the washer. A big pot of posole with crusty bread is in the works.

I am thankful for contrast.