job hunting

This came in my e-mail today: EXPLODING Hospital Needs MANY, MANY RNs, Physicians, and PTs/OTs

I may have some frustrations with my salary - but seriously, who wants to go work for an exploding hospital?

its not the heat, its the humidity

We have entered the third realm of hell. Our air conditioner is broken, we live in the South and it was over 90 degrees all weekend.

There was no point resting - it was too freaking hot - so I took on a couple of projects - got two rooms done and two more in process.

And to top it all off - the fleas have become resistant to the Frontline I was using on the dogs and cats. So we bug bombed the house on Sunday afternoon - using that time away to sit in a cool theater and watch Benchwarmers ( eh it was okay - luckily it was only a dollar movie).

Apparently the flea mutation knows no bounds - because Yesterday - after the bug bombing - the fleas were hopping all over doing a salsa dance on my floor.

So I did what any farmer would do - I took the vermiculite powder that is used to keep fleas and lice off the goats and chickens - and COATED the floor with it. Those little hoppers slowed down - though I am not sure if it got all of them.

Vermiculite powder uses sharp shells of microscopic animals to cut bugs and kill them.

Vacation. all I ever wanted. Vacation had to get away.

Don't you miss the days when the Go Go's made it seem like life was simple. Water skiiing in formation - happily swathed in pink.... oh the days of youth!

We were supposed to be seeing my extended family this weekend in Kansas City - but our trip has been cancelled - and now I am spending some much needed time working on my house - and more importantly, resolving to work on my tan. I think AC had a valid point yesterday - about overdoing it - and I looked through my archives and saw that I have been whining about being tired for a long time. So, I hit bottom yesterday.

But I am resolving - again - to try to only focus on those things that actually matter. So when you come by the house, it will need cleaning, there will probably be dishes to do - but my garden is growing, and I will be back to happy. Because the little stuff isn't worth having a stroke over.

Fine Line

Edited version of this post - thanks to my anonymous friend. If you can't get honesty from your family - who can you count on.

I am thinking of putting myself in time out again. I feel stressed - and I have forgotten that I am not the Manager of the Universe - sometimes I forget that and it sneaks back into my thinking as though it is not a grandiose belief. When you are the manager of the Universe, you create a living hell- and it isn't fun. IN an effort to control everything - ironically control is lost.

I am tired of feeling like every time I talk to people in my family I am bitching about something. Truthfully, I feel like that because it is a fact. In my state of stress, I have reverted to a person I dislike very much- who without warning - might just tell you everything on her mind. It isn't pretty. And it isn't the person I truly want to be.

I dislike conflict - and avoid it at all cost. So in my effort to avoid conflict, I have created a virtual time bomb within myself. I used to choose my battles - now I am fighting about everything.

I ignore things, but keep an internal tally of what went wrong. What an incredibly shitty thing to do. In my wallowing in self pity about finances ( I know, I can scarcely believe I am upset about money - its money, we'll make more) and the lack of focus on my personal needs, has come the inability to focus on what is important - the fact that I have parents who are fun to be with, a brother who is struggling - but there for me, good friends, three great kids and a husband who loves me - even when that is difficult.

as for me and my house...

The DaVinci Code made millions this weekend. When I saw the headlines, it reminded me of the sermon yesterday. I don't begrudge the author his millions, he just won't get any money from me.

I am Catholic - not by default, or because my parents are - but because I have studied my faith and other faiths, and chosen what spoke to my heart as the truth. The more I learn about life, the more that belief system fits with what I have learned. We are surrounded by order and chaos and wonder and things unseen, and for me, it works.

I have always thought of religion as being similar to the blind men and the elephant - each man telling his own truth with his hand upon some part of the elephant. Each correct in his own right, but cumulatively they have the big picture.

So why would I give the theater 8 dollars to see a movie that doesn't question my faith - but rather calls my beliefs a fraudulent deception. It is kind of like buying dinner for the guy who punched your mother.

a knock upside my head

we went to see my folks this weekend. My dad has been battling lymphoma, my mother, battling fear. It is very difficult watching people struggle through things you can't fix - especially for me because I am a fixer.

See a problem, come up with a solution, try something to fix it.

And as we were leaving my parents I said something that I scarcely can believe came out of my mouth - but something I needed to hear.

Sometimes we pray for an answer and the answer is no, or not right now. Sometimes we don't realize the significance of the trials we aer going through. There are lessons to be learned, stories to me made. But they always seem to take too long. The important thing is that we grab joy where we can find it - enjoy our time - our troubles can wait for us back at home.

So I have decided to be thankful that I have broad shoulders - though I could live without the broad hips - and go back to carrying my load without feeling sorry for myself. It doesn't help anyway. And today, the sun shines brighter - and the birds sing louder and I absorb joy, small though it may be, wherever I can find it.

some days it just feels like this
the indeterminable end -
chugging along, task after task,
my hand cut from the chicken wire,
Glass in my feet from the pan that exploded
my heart struggling to keep hope
my mind circling over and over
my dad has cancer - it isn't going away
my husband is still job seeking
my kids each have their own issues,
trying to be children and adults at the same time
and I feel like the only thing keeping me sane
is the constancy of chugging through chores
over and over again - wiping, folding, putting away
feed the dogs, feed the chickens, shovel the manure

And I fall asleep alone
entrenched in this shell I crawled into

well, duh

Maggie, the elephant, doesn't want to get on her treadmill.

Yep, sister, can't say I blame you.

yep, it was one of THOSE days

Yesterday I was slow to wake up - my little baby Annie kept me up every two hours to feed - and I am a bit out of practice. Then Bear had to be at work by 7:30 - necessitating home departure around 6:55.

I was preparing for my presentation at work - when the school called me to inform me that Jake had a nasty cut and probably needed stitches. Great. Cue multiple phone calls arranging a doc visit - only to find that he already had an appointment scheduled for follow-up of something else.

Justin called me at 3 to tell me that Annie wasn't looking good. To someone who has already lost several babies - this was emergent. I left work and rushed home to find her cold and weak. While my husband may be the human furnace, she has no subcutaneous fat and had gotten chilled. So Subcutaneous fluids, Thiamin, antibiotic, and goat magic ( warm water, molasses, corn syrup and corn oil) later - she looked okay - but not good.
In the interrum, Luke has decided he is feeling his teenage oats - and thought my leg might be a good outlet for that - umm, no. So he was put in his kennel.

Then I heard barking from the yard - and looked out to see a flash of orange being taken from one of the pups by Maggie. And then there was the loud clucking noise. Our little red hen was rescued - but not without losing some feathers first. I put her in a cage, and finished Annie's injections. She wasn't looking any better, despite my efforts -so I put her in her box with a hot towel - and the tears just wouldn't stop.

I took her with me to pick up Bear - and when we got home about half an hour later, I brought the box back in - she was still pretty pale. Moments later, she sat up and started fussing for a bottle. She is okay this morning as well.

I coated the red hen's sore with ointment and wrapped her neck so that now she appears ot be wearing a scarf of sorts. She is still a bit shocky - but I gave her feed with antibiotics and some honey water - time being the only variable now.

Jake's sore is nasty - but shallow, long and clean, so we chose to butterfly it rather than having stitches - because he didn't want to miss the end of year swim party last night.

Nearly at the end of my day, I took Josh to our church for the meeting about confirmation and religious ed for teenagers. He was not overly impressed, but he didn't fight me about going - and for someone who is doing a lot of questioning about what he believes, that is enough for me.

Last but not least, there are the pups. We took them in from a friend who did not want to take them to the pound. The male, TBone, caught my little red hen. The two of them barked in their pens until about 2am - at some unseen threat in the dark.

But there was no point in going out to check on them - it was just one of those days.

Love just wouldn't be love without a fiddle-playing goat

I got my mother's day persent early this year - a couple of days early. My buddy Amber has a mama goat who had two babies - this little girl and then her much bigger brother - so guess who came to dinner at our house?

I am thinking of naming her Anne. She's two days old now - adn looks healthy - such a beauty.

If you are going to choose a husband - pick one who knows what you'd really like for a holiday present!

It's Cheese, Grommitt!

The makers of Famous Stilton cheese have decided to take it's aroma to a whole new level - Perfume. Thus creating a scent perfect for the woman who wants to attract Wallace.

My husband will not be buying this for me for Mother's Day

I am a satsuma fan anyway.

Sunrise for two

Maybe it is because I am getting so much closer to forty - maybe I am finally realizing that even the very beautiful people struggle - but I have decided to try to become comfortable in my skin. I hate pictures of me because either I have all my hair pulled back - like in this picture - or I have my arms pressed up against my body ( like in this picture) which makes them look even chunkier. Anyway, tonight I am feeling brave and I have decided to post an actual picture - this one is from our trip to Savannah - on the morning of our actual anniversary.

feet

Remembering

Do you remember that difficult time between being a child - who is defined by others - and being an adult whose persona is defined by your own choices?

The girl child wrote a really touching post - and it made me thankful to have lived through that phase already- and sad that my kids have to face that same trial by fire.

But it is a part of becoming the person we were meant to be - even if it means you become the chubby farmer's wife in overalls handing out cookies.

Wind in a box

I don't put much credence in horoscopes or zodiac things, but I am a gemini. Oddly enough, I often feel like there are two personalities whizzing around in my head - and I definitely have two wardrobes.

Yesterday while talking to my boss about just stuff - she said she was surprised by the clothes I chose - that I had expensive taste and it didn't really match the farm image. I reminded her that I was the product of a private Catholic school - privy to the company of many of the movers and shakers in Indianapolis now. She laughed and said she just couldn't imagine me clinking wine glasses with all those money-laden people - that it just didn't seem to fit me. Then she just cracked me up - she said, you know I can't imagine you worrying much about social conventions - when I picture you it is like trying to put wind in a box.

Quite a lovely image really, maybe a bit more ethereal than I am feeling these days, but lovely.

When Josh was little, I was about 160 pounds - and on my 5'10" frame, that made me big, but not obese. He used to snuggle into my shoulder and say how much he loved my chubby arms. I remember thinking they were pretty chubby. I look back at the pictures and wonder what in the world I was thinking.

Last night on our way home we picked up some treats from Wally world - my current favorite is dark chocolate covered macadamias. I had a couple, then looked at the nutrition facts ( i do this for a living, of course I looked at the nutrition facts). I determined I could have 9 of those sweet miracles packed with heart healthy fats and anitoxidants - without putting my body in shock. So I said outloud - "oh, nine to a serving. I can have three more!"

Josh responded by looking at his Starburst - and saying - "oh a package to a serving - I can have all the rest!"

I told him I was trying not to become a 300 pound mom -

He looked at me funny. First, he said, you are already married. Second, you are like one of those pretty fat ladies, you know, the ones with rosy cheeks and overalls who are always saying, " here honey, have a roll, have a cookie, let me get you something to eat"

And I realize that we are all a compilation - like the story of the elephant and the blind men - a friend's image of us depends upon which part he touches.

The Bad Seed

You know that every family has one - the bad seed - the one who is just cute as a bug and gets away with murder.

Well, we are no exception. It all started when my friend's doe had twins but no milk. The babies were sick - and one didn't make it. So we have chosen to bottle feed Luke. he roams the house, and sometimes woudl climb random things, but overall, he was no proble to have around. Then we moved the baby chicks outside - and allowed Kitten Bob tfree run of the house again. Unfortunately, Luke is a herd animal, and apparently looked to Kitten Bob, master of all bad habits - for leadership.

So it should be no surprise that yesterday I found him curled up in my recliner - after having left little goat pellets on the new yellow cushions on my chaise lounge. I also found the remnants of a paper Josh wrote and put up out of the way - with the edges chewed off, thanks to Luke.

Saturday, while we were gone, he knocked over the trash in the bathroom - to get to some wrapper the kids had thrown away - I found bits of the paper strewn down the hallway..

This morning, though, was the last straw. I came in to fix breakfast and what do I seee but LUKE bleating good morning to me from ATOP MY KITCHEN TABLE.

And to make it worse, he had left a neat little pile of goat berries, right next to the napkins.

Yep - that was my reaction, too.

And I did bleach the tabletop.

Now I am a fairly patient woman, but Luke and Bob will have to be seperated from now on - because squirting Luke with the spray bottle didn't phase him one little bit. I have now removed that rascal, Luke from the table four times today. It has become a game of wits.

I know, since it has happened four times, I realize that I am apparently not the one with the wits.

Well then!

Last night Bear came in a little before curfew, around 11:45.

This morning I drove her to work at 7:30 and I was chiding her about the note she left me on the kitchen table sometime around midnight. I told her I was still up when she came home and that a reminder about our 7am departure would have been good.

Her cheeks got red - and she said - oh you were in bed already.

I argued that I came out of the bedroom around 12:30 to check to see what the "cooking smell" was - only to discover it was the roast I had put in the crock pot. Not the sharpest knife in the drawer at 12:30.

She siad: "Mom, I know you were in bed when i got home because i came to knock on your door and you two were making all kinds of grunting noises".

I burst out laughing.

Yep, she heard grunting allright - I was watching the final game scene from Any Given Sunday.

Luckily she missed the part earlier in the movie where I was yelling - go baby! go baby! as the receiver caught a beautiful pass and ran it in for the winning touchdown.

sheesh - teenagers.

What would Mother Theresa do?

I found these quotes when I was working in Arizona - and I posted it in my office. I thought of it this morning and decided to share. They are from Mother Theresa of Calcutta:

I know that God will not give me anything I can not handle. Sometimes I wish He did not trust me so much.

People are often unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered;
Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, People may Accuse you of Selfish, Ulterior motives;
Be kind anyway.
If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies;
Succeed anyway.
If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;
Be Honest and Frank anyway.
What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;
Build anyway.
If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.
The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;
Do good anyway.
Give the world the best you have,and it may never be enough;
Give the world the best you've got anyway.
You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and God;
It was never between you and them anyway.

Fall out from domestic abuse

When a family becomes a family, there is a level of trust that is established. People expect that the members of that family will act in a way that is caring and loving and considerate.

Over the past two years, a lot of wounds have healed over. But when a family, is effected by domestic violence, sometimes shrapnel gets buried beneath the scars and later tries to work it's way out. Breaking through the scars - purging evil from the body - it's just painful, but necessary. Like scrubbing out a wound before stitches...

I described divorce - the whole gamut of what happened to us - as being like radiation poisoning. On the outside we looked fine - a bit haggard, but otherwise fine. But inside, we were bleeding. It was as though there was a big gaping wound in my chest and no one could see the blood pouring out. The kids were in pain, but there was no way to soothe it with medicine or balm- only time could heal this. It is like that, the assault on the heart and on the spirit that is a result of abuse from someone who is supposed to love and cherish us.

We were able to function, mostly so it seemed we had just closed one chapter and opened another. The world kept spinning and the sun kept rising and soon what had happened just yesterday - now is almost two years ago.

It was two years ago this week that I took the day off and my parents came to help me and the kids move our things to the other house in Lafayette so that we could be out of Dan's way. It was the beginning of a lot of sleepless nights when he would come into the house without permission, steal things from the yard and stalk us. It was a dark, dark time. ( ps thanks again to the West Lafayette sheriff for doing absolutely nothing every time I called you)

I am eternally grateful that my friends saw the signs and the God sent me a "postcard" and we were able to leave. But the scars remain. I see them in myself sometimes - when my husband erased the cookies off the computer, I had the visceral memory of Dan chatting with Russian mail order brides and women at AOL while I was still living there, then haphazardly erasing the emails, only to leave their traces on the memory. When I found the memory, he had a buddy show him how to erase that as well. So my husband did something harmless - and I over-reacted. Yep, I'm a joy to be married to at times.

The kids are struggling as well. It is hard to be a teenager, even worse when your senior year is ripped from you. Bear says she has "man-issues" but when I see her interact with her friends, several of whom are male - her issues are more like step-dad issues. And I cannot blame her, but I will continue to encourage her to work on them.

Josh was the primary target for Dan, having received his wrath both physically and verbally. Some day God will further hold Dan accountable because he has tainted the way Josh sees the world - and changed the course of his life. He is trying to readjust, but he is a brilliant child, and like his mother he thinks about things. Letting go of the past is difficult for him, and at times, that anger can be all consuming. It is a difficult thing - to forgive someone who has hurt you - but I hope he can. Forgiveness isn't for Dan the Ogre - it is to free Josh.

I am not stupid, I am not uneducated, I am not an attention seeker - and I didn't have any idea that Dan could have been abusive before I married him. You could ask anyone at the Christian singles group where we met - they were all stunned when things turned sour. What happened was not my fault - any more than it was the fault of the kids - or depression - or the moon. Domestic violence doesn't happen because we let it, though the legal system sucks at protecting us - it happens because one person consciously chooses to disrespect another - and for that, the person should be held accountable. Some day, Daniel Ray Brock will be held accountable by his Maker for his behavior, and what he did to my family - both the kids and the extended family. I have forgiven him and his weaknesses, I have not forgotten what he did.

I have been following Cala Lily's blog for a while now. She is a survivor of domestic violence as well, and I borrowed this from her site because I thought it was so well written. ( hope that's okay) Parts of this blog deal with abusive relationships. If you are in an abusive relationship, it is not your fault! Violence in abusive relationships tend to escalate, so it's important you act now. Tell someone, tell a teacher, a counselor, a minister, a cop. Get out and get help. If you don't know where to get help, you can call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233 and they will help you find help locally

An open letter to the Hispanic Community about the Spanish National Anthem

I am a nurse, and wife and mother, not a politician. I am a lifelong Catholic, and suffice it to say that my politics frequently match those of the Archdiocese. I have spent my professional career providing care to people who do not have insurance, regardless of race, language, or citizenship status. These experiences have led me to firmly believe that there are certain inalienable rights - for all people - to have life liberty and the pursuit of happiness, regardless of where we were born. It is my hope that the immigration system be revamped - and that the United States becomes a haven for those who want to work hard and make a life for themselves.

That being said, I am deeply troubled by the use of a Spanish National Anthem for promoting your cause. Not that I am opposed to the Spanish exactly. My family are also immigrants - as are most of the families in this nation. We have historically welcomed immigrants to our shores, but their goal was to assimilate, to adjust the culture a bit, but to become an American - not have America become another Italy or Ireland or China or England.

The National Anthem is a sacred thing and should not be toyed with. Watch the crowd during a sporting event when the Anthem is played - you can see the pride and the emotion evoked by the first couple of bars, and on occasion the melody will stir a man to tears. For those of us whose families have been here several generations, and who have lost countless family members on the shores of Normandy, or in Vietnam, or Bosnia, or Pearl Harbor, or Iraq, the National Anthem is a part of the very pulse of our being. Our sons and daughters were sacrified for the greater good, protecting the very country you want to become a legal member of. I urge you to respect the sacrifices made by the men who died protecting our country's freedoms. Do not dishonor their memory by callously replacing the Anthem that was played at most of their funerals, that was played when they graduated boot camp or military school and when they took the oath to protect this country.

I pray for Godspeed in resolving this crisis fairly and mercifully for all those involved. And for my part, I'd like to say welcome to America, land of the free, home of the brave.

The Road to Emmaus

The disciples were walking along the road to Emmaus, they were troubled and talking about the crucifixion of Jesus, probably also how the apostles had scattered, Peter went back to fishing, no one was preaching, and their lives seemed to have taken an entirely different direction.

Then a man joins them, he asks why they are troubled - and He then listens to them recount the tales of Jesus adn the crucifixion and how the followers are afraid and then there are the rumors that some have seen Him alive again.

It was a great while until they sat down together - and the disciples realized who the Man was. He reminded them that He was the same man who healed lepers, gave sight to the blind, and raised Lazarus. Rather than chastizing them about forgetting Him so quickly, He offered them peace - forgave them for doubting - and called them back to Him.

Funny how the people who walked, physically, with Jesus everyday were shaken into doubt after His death. Is it any wonder, then, surrounded by a world that does not believe, we have moments where we doubt.

Last weekend, a kind soul commented that I was carrying a lot on my shoulders - and by the end of this reading on Sunday, I was reminded that I have been buying into despair. But more importantly, that I do not carry the burden alone. The same God who gave me parents when my birthmother couldn't keep me, Who restored my son after a brain tumor, who restored my dad after a plane crash and a heart attack, the same One who gave me my beautiful kids and my family, who protected me and stopped my Jeep just at the edge of the road, that icy night coming over the mountain- and Who impressed the socks off me with Justin - will not leave me forsaken. I was so busy looking to myself for strength - that I forgot the most important thing - I am not in this alone. And when something gives, and life is all sunflowers again - I'll try to remember to whom the credit goes.