Real Talk

After two years in my position at work I received a promotion at the end of last year. I was excited for the new responsibility and to be taking my career in a new direction. And, the pay increase was a welcomed benefit. I knew the new job would require training, the learning of much business history and methods, and a general inundation of information. I was ready for the challenge. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy my previous position. In fact, I actually loved it, but after two years I had mastered much of it. Many of the daily tasks could be done without too much thought - I knew what I was doing and I could do it...

We have two little boys who are 19 months apart. We're asked constantly if they're twins, and to be fair, they do look very similar with their blond hair and blue eyes. But that's about where their similarities end. In fact, my husband and I are trying with difficulty to navigate the differences between the two while remaining fair to both.  I've never kept a baby book (mainly because I don't have the energy for them), and I'm grateful that I never started one. I'm afraid that I would become the type of mom who would compare her kids and fanatically check the records of when the first was potty-trained and compare it against the second. Actually, potty-training is a perfect...

I was four years old hiding in my mom's closet, covering my ears from the relentless yelling and pounding. My older sister holding me tight singing "Jesus Loves Me" into my ear so I wouldn't hear the horrific sounds coming from our living room. The sounds of our father beating our mother as she pleaded for her life. Despite my sister's best efforts I heard it all, I remember it all, and when I close my eyes now I can place my 30-something year old self back into that little four-year-old body. My childhood was stolen from me due to witnessing domestic violence on a regular basis. My father was an alcoholic. And when he drank he abused my mother. They married young then had my sister...

Yep. All of the ingredients - but we just can't get there. (This is an embarrassing, actual photo of my dinner as I received it one night - my fulfillment of a childhood comfort food craving, apparently, the only way it comes) Monday morning: We *finally* get into the car (after a few trips to retrieve forgotten items). Seatbelts on. Reverse. Back the car DIRECTLY into the trash AND recycling bins. Curse in front of my kid. Exit car, clean up trash in the street (in heels and a skirt). Re-situate garbage and recycling bins. Back out again. Make it to the carpool drop off *just* in time. Rush to work. Get further behind because of unexpected meetings.  Monday afternoon:  Still at work. Can't catch up. Husband picks up kids (each at a different location). He...

This is a recounting of a true life event and subsequent episode many months later. My son is ventilator dependent. He also relies on five other machines daily to keep him alive. So car travel looks more like an ambulance ride. And I used to be able to handle it as the lone adult in the car, until the day we left the hospital about two years ago, and it was a horrifying, near death experience. My son does not "transition" well anymore. Meaning moving him from one place to another, especially into the wheelchair or carseat. It's one of the main reasons we moved to home nursing exclusively almost five years ago. Trips in the car meant multiple stops...