Thursday, April 26, 2012
I miss my Grandma. She took care of me. In fact, she took care of everyone. She cooked, made afghans, hosted holiday parties, made crafts with us. After she died, the family fell apart. Literally. And, frankly, I miss my family. After almost 12 years of parenting, I've realized that no one takes care of ME. I spend every waking hour of my life taking care of someone else. If I'm at home, I'm taking care of my husband, my children and my home. (what a good wife i am) At work, I am taking care of laboring women and their families. (what a good nurse I am) Don't you think everyone needs to be taken care of sometimes? I do. No matter how old you are, everyone deserves their hand to be held, a meal to be cooked for them, someone to ask them how their day was. That's what my Grandma did. She was great. There was no one like her. My grandma made the most amazing dessert. It's called Mississippi Mud. It's a delicious mix of chocolate fudge, marshmallows, and some sort of nut. It was so good, the pan was scraped clean by the end of the night. It was oozy gooey goodness. Yesterday, I went to Jewel and was passing thought the baking isle, and I saw a Mississippi Mud box mix. Seriously!!! I bought it. Of course i did. It tasted like decadent brownies with marshmallows and crunchy yummy stuff on top. It wasn't anything close to my Grandmas, but it was good. (pictures to follow) It made me think of my Grandma, and my family, and the comforts of home. Funny how a dessert can bring back so many memories. I'm crying a little now because I miss her and I miss my Dad. Tomorrow, it will have been 17 years since he died. My one wish is to have him back for one day. Just one. So I can tell him how much I love him. And miss him. And to tell him what has happened since he's been gone. This is a sad post. I didn't mean for it to be. That just happened on its own. Sorry for those of you who had to read it. I feel better now.
Monday, April 23, 2012
I'm a Michigan girl. Born and raised. I love everything about living in the Midwest. Especially, experiencing all the seasons. By the time I am sick of one season, another comes around and I am happy again. I love cold winters and hot summers. I love spring and the crisp air in the fall. Sometimes, I think I would be happy living somewhere south of here, where it's warmer for more of the year. But, then I wonder how I would feel at Christmas time, hanging lights off of a palm tree. Not good. So, I think i will stay right here. Plus, I am a sucker for tradition. I have no intention of moving out of this house. I want my daughters to be able to come home to THIS house. Where all their memories are. I would hate to "pull the rug out from under their feet", the way it was done to me. I don't feel like a have a connection to my childhood. No hometown to go to, no house filled with memories, no family inviting me to visit. Nothing. I will not do that to my girls. I do know that this will be an issue for Frank, because he hates the winter and intends on moving away as soon as everyone goes away to college. He may just have to go by himself. I love, love, love small town charm. Little boutiques, restaurants, resale shops, farmers markets. I am itching to travel around the midwest this summer with my family. Keeping it simple, exploring, eating, swimming. I have a few ideas for day trips, and weekend trips. I wish school was over. I'm tired of the schedule. I need to relax. (I say this every year at this time)
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Working the night shift is exhausting. Not always, but once you don't get enough sleep, and you add that to another day of not enough sleep....your doomed. That happened to me yesterday. It was Easter and I thought I would get a call off, but didn't. So I was awake for 24 hours straight. After working my 12 hour shift, I was practically out of my mind. Cross-eyed, dizzy, confused, completely useless. When you work nights, you are always counting your sleep hours. And trying to do more than you should. I am not sure how long I will be working nights. But, it's better than working days. I've decided I don't get paid enough. My time is valuable, to me, and I think I should be compensated way more than I am. I was thinking the payments could come in the form of clean laundry, or a spotless house, or a day to myself. I mean, cash is good too, but I can think of other things that I would rather have. I wish I had more time to spend with the kids, unhurried, and without thinking of what needs to be done. Every extra minute I have is spent doing chores, making list of chores, or going to work. I sure wish I could go to a Cubs game.....like someone I know.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Babies are funny. They like to come out at the strangest times. Sometimes way to early, sometimes on the side of the expressway, sometimes in a moving car. I think it's funny to deliver a baby in a car. It's so movie-worthy. *the husband is speeding down the street..."it's coming!" Screams the woman, her hands between her legs, bearing down , pants around her ankles.*. Classic. And lucky. I mean, really, who wants to be in labor for twelve hours anyway? I can't wait until I get to deliver a baby somewhere besides the hospital. Like at the mall, or the grocery store, or Target. It's so not scary to me. Unless, my delivery is replayed, than that's scary. Baby stuck, shoulders stuck, PPH. enough said. Babies change you. They change your story and your life. How they come into this world is part of that story. That's why my job is so awesome. I get to be part of that story. And the woman may not remember my face or my name, but i hope she remembers my calm voice and encouragement. So what's wrong with delivering in the car anyway? Well, I'm not there. I don't mean "me"... I mean someone like me. Someone who knows what to do. Someone to support and encourage, and do the right thing. Unassisted births seem to be a hot topic these days. My childbirth certification organization is discussing it daily, having forums, blogs, conferences. It seems like more women are choosing this option instead of the traditional hospital birth. I think, they are looking for a delivery that is more natural, less invasive, more instinctual. I can appreciate that. I think all women ideally want that type of delivery. But when a baby's head is coming through your vagina, natural is not crossing your mind. It hurts. A lot. And to be in a place where they can help you with that pain, is pretty great. That's where I come in. To all the women out there, who have allowed me to be part of their story...thank you. Because your stories are now my stories.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
We are about to begin our adventure in parenting, I mean, the REAL adventure. Not birthing, and diapering, and feeding and burping and sleeping. I'm talking about the real deal. My twins are almost twelve. Their days are unpredictable, sometimes good, sometimes bad, sometimes happy, sometimes sad. I feel like I am caught in the whirlwind. Their tears are mine, their frustrations are felt deep in my soul. My intention is to guide them through this storm, and to try to find small islands of calm and peace they can rest upon. Making our home a safe and comfortable place. And making myself available to them to talk, cry and to come to for advice. I have to admit, I don't really know the answers. I'm still trying to figure this whole thing out myself. But I do remember being twelve. I can give them some clarity and insight. I sure hope they come to me for it. Probably not. At least they have each other. God, what I would have given to have a twin at that age. Someone to always be there, who understood me, to talk to. I wish my mom would have been more available back then (and now). Her parenting style was hands-off. Letting me do what I wanted, but with serious consequences. Never guiding and supporting. Maybe that's why I became so independent. My style? Loving, a little over-bearing, consuming, cautious, open, and always trying to cut the cord (artery-vein-artery). Speaking of cord cutting....two of the girls at work had their babies yesterday. I do not envy them. A new baby, no sleep, no down time, no privacy....hey wait, that is my life!
Monday, April 2, 2012
I'm alone. I swear, right now there isn't anyone home. No one to ask me a question, no one to complain, no one fighting, no one crying, no one needing me...and I am loving it. Don't get me wrong. Parenting has been a wonderful adventure. But I would be lying if I said I didn't miss my "old life". I miss waking up alone, going to bed alone. I miss preparing dinner for just myself, and sometimes not eating. I miss going for walks, reading, thinking. I can't be the only mom out there that feels this way. I can't be the only mom that REALLY enjoyed living alone, being single. Am I? I would not change anything. Really. But I would have mentally prepared myself, if that is at all possible. Which, of course, it is not. Isn't that the adventure of parenthood? Jumping in with both feet? Into the deepest part of the lake? On the coldest day of the year? My big girls always accuse me of loving my little one more. And in a way, I guess I do. Not more, but differently. She is five, sweet, funny, silly, ridiculous, lovable, simple. I need that right now. The complicated life of preteen twins is exhausting, confusing, frustrating, and wonderful. I see myself in them. I remember those times. I don't envy them. I think I need to take a new perspective on this parenting of preteens thing. Perhaps a trip to the library is in order. Maybe a literary /parenting expert could share some tips on how to survive this time. But, for now,I'm going to sit here with my iPad and blog.....alone.