Saturday, May 21, 2016

It's a lazy Saturday morning.  The sky is grey and full of clouds. Hayden and I spent the morning watching cartoons in my bed.  It is one of his favorite things to do.  I did a little more sleeping than he liked so he woke me to sounds of his toy pet parrot screaming that it wanted a pet lizard. How he got to the toy parrot which was perched high atop a cabinet is another story and one I was apparently asleep for. We will just imagine that it flew down on it's own rather than picture him scaling the shelving to get to it.  This life of cuddles, cartoons, and craziness is about to get a lot more cuddly and crazy with the addition of another baby.  To say I'm not at all scared would be a lie. To say I'm overjoyed would be an understatement.  I never thought I'd get this chance again, but here we are starting over.  This should be interesting.

Tuesday, April 05, 2016

I miss him.

I know that the sky's full of stars.
And dreams call your name from afar.
I'm anxious to see, all you're gonna be.
But I'm sure gonna miss who you are.
Read more at 

No one told me I'd measure the time in jackets that no longer fit and pants that are now too short.  They told me to enjoy him.  "Soak up every moment!" they said.  But they never told me it would never be enough.  I'm living these moments and, trust me, I treasure every last one.  I am fully here and present when he wants to play wash cloth bomber while taking a bath, when he asks me to hold on for just one more cuddle, when he begs me not to tickle him in that way that means he wants a hundred more tickles.  I'm soaking it all in and trying my best to hold on tight. Then I see a picture and I notice how much the shape of his once small baby boy face has changed, or the way his hair doesn't have that slight curl to it anymore. In the photo he is wearing a sweater that hasn't fit in over a year and a shirt that I hid in a box in my room because it's his favorite  and one day I'll make a blanket out of all those shirts, I swear!  I see the boy he was and try to match him to he boy he is.  He is still him, only bigger and more him because he is learning more about who he is every single day.  This being a parent thing is a constant battle between wanting to see him grow and become who he is and wanting him to stay this small because he fits perfectly in my arms with his head on my shoulder.  I'm not sure I'll ever get the balancing act right.

Saturday, February 13, 2016

Fighting fevers

A hush rushes the falling snow. From my cozy bed, I watch the winter white flakes decend, toppling one on top of the other. Sunlight streams through frosted branches and sparkles like diamonds. The birds are quiet this morning. Perhaps they too are mesmerized by falling snow. I hear Hayden giggling in his room. My bones ache from spending part of the night in his bed, comforting him while he coughed and monitoring a fever that finally broke at 3 a.m.  The early morning quiet feels like a gift after a long night of battleing and his giggles sound like a victory cry. I think I'll pry myself from between the covers to check on my favorite warrior and see what adventures await.

Friday, February 12, 2016

Putting it out there.

I live in the smallest city in the U.S.A complete with three restaurants, two bars, a bank, and a grocery store.  I moved here after spending eleven years in the land of plenty of everything.  Grocery stores and Starbucks littered every street corner.   I felt like a stranger in that land.  A girl from a small town in Oklahoma. A girl who grew up attending church twice on Sunday and every Wednesday night.  California stretched me in places I didn't know needed stretching.  It changed me.  Then I left it. I moved across the country and once again feel like a stranger in a strange land even after 7 years here.  The truth is, I'm not sure I fit in anywhere.
Everyone is talking politics.  I watch the debates. I read the stories.  Everyone has a favorite.  I've no favorite.  I pick and chose pieces from each.  I'd like to mush them together like a beautiful play-doh rainbow of politicians.  I agree and disagree even with myself at times.  I see a panel of candidates and they mirror a vast and colorful country and people. I feel like that is what makes us beautiful and amazing.  We can't forget to embrace that.  How boring would it be if we all agreed on everything?  Even worse what would we have to post on social media about?

Friday, July 03, 2015

At thirty-six

Today I am thirty-six.  That's double the age I feel until I try to turn a cartwheel and then I feel much much older.
 In 13,140 days I have  laughed until I wet my pants, cried until I had the hicuups and then cried a little more, created and carried life inside of my own body, committed myself fully to another, lost and found myself again and again, held someone's hand as they took their last breath, and watched wide-eyed as a baby was born.
In 315,360 hours I've traveled across the country and back again, called three different states home, visited three countries, but never felt more at home than at grandma's house on a Sunday afternoon.
In 18,921,600 seconds I've believed in myself and given up on myself, jumped into ice cold water times three, sat under the expance of the night sky and felt how very small I am, made mountains out of mole hills, found my people, danced in the rain, been wrong, taken a chance, surprised myself, said I'm sorry, doubted and believed, sang in the grocery store, been so so greatful for just one more second, faced my biggest fears, and realized some pretty big dreams.
I just read "The Opposite of Loneliness" by Marina Keegan.  One line moved me.  "..the best years of our life are not behind us.  They are a part of us...".
Those seconds, hours, and days are me.
If you've been with me for any of those thirty-six cycles around the sun, thank you.  You're a part of this too.

Saturday, March 21, 2015

The Brave Crocus

Just under the first of the three maple tress in our front yard, about five feet from the mail box, there is a gift.  They show up every spring just as I'm about to lose faith that the snow will stop and warmer weather will come.  Just when I've convinced myself that we've entered a new ice age, a small patch of pale purple Crocus emerges from the cold, soggy, leaf-littered ground.  Shoots of green emerge and little blooms open wide towards the sun.  They are brave, these tiny little reminders of warmth.  The push up through cold hard earth and bloom in still freezing temperatures.  Each spring they remind me that life is hard, but not impossible.

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

I am a nurse.  I am a nurse who takes care of a little boy.  I care for a  little boy so full of smiles and laughter that taking care of him doesn't really feel like work  most of the time.  I do things like hold and hug him which any person can do.  I tickle him and and sing the ABC's to him over and over again. I feed him through a tube in his belly.  I make him laugh and hold him when he cries.  It's not world changing, this work I do.  It's not even really life saving.  It's not glamorous.  "Adventures Of A Home Nurse" will never be a t.v. series.  It's exactly what I want to be doing.  Nurturing and loving a child who nurtures and loves me right back.