Monday, April 21, 2008

I do ... except when I don't

Funny how that works. Deciding to do something, doing it for awhile, and then not doing it. Commitment phobe? Or just a little ADD. Call it what you will, I’m back for another round!

A lot has happened since last I blogged.

Barkley had his 11th birthday, Zoe Lucille had her 9th birthday, and MaggieMay, well, I honestly think she thinks every day is her birthday. J

Work is messy. The main contractor at work lost their bid to re-up for 5 more years so while having worked at the same place for nearly 30 years, I’ve worked for …. never mind, too many different companies to keep track of. Some good friends/co-workers – also with 30 years (some more, others not quite as many) whose contract was totally separate from any others, are out of there after having given most of their adult lives to that place. Based on how it happened, and the fact that it was allowed to happen, one has to wonder – are they actually the lucky ones???

Younger daughter, with her history of major depression, and etc, is holding steady. And that, is saying a whole hell of a lot, thankyouverymuch! Last year at this time, no, even just 5 months ago, her peace of mind, her continuing education, heck, her every effort to survive – seemed in question. So to say she is holding steady is aMAZing. It’s end of the semester, end of her second year in college, and she’s on track. By the grace of God, and Larry, she is still there. Sounds like her cello isn’t fairing as well, but hopefully it will get her through juries and the final concert of the year (both happening this week) before having to be attended to. Younger daughter will also be changing roommates end of this semester … Anna will go back to Germany, and we don’t know or care where the other two plan to live. Enough said. So the 3 of them will be replaced by 3 roommates of the male variety. One is YD’s boyfriend, one YD’s boyfriend’s best friend, and the 3rd is YD’s boyfriend's section leader. Yes, indeed, the four of them are orchestra geeks. And good friends. And no, I am not freaked out about her living with 3 guys. I already know that they treat her better, and are simply just better human beings, than 2 of the 3 they are replacing.

Older daughter is fast approaching many different things in her life. She is wrapping up her fifth year of college, and only has 1 more semester to go before graduating with her B.S. in nursing. Before that last semester she has a lot going on … she will be packing up and leaving the cozy apartment she’s lived in for the last 2 years, packing up and heading to NY for the summer to intern at a camp for kids with special needs, she will be giving a baby-shower for her BFF since grade school, participating in the wedding of another good friend, and finally moving back home to live with me for her last semester of school. We are both independent, set in our own way, strong-willed women, and we will both have to promise to try really hard to stay out of each other’s way respect each other’s privacy! OD’s prone to anxiety attacks though I thought she had conquered them mid-way through her sophomore year in college. But with everything that’s going on, they’ve gotten the best of her a time or two recently which freaks her out. And frustrates the hell out of me, but that’s my issue not hers. :-/ I am so excited for her, and indescribably proud of her. She is going to be an awesome nurse! And it will take her, literally, wherever she wants to go. I can’t say it loud enough or often enough, but … Go, honey, go! Follow your dreams, go where your heart leads. And I’ll be here, silently hoping it takes you to the coolest places so I can visit them (yes, and you, of course J ), on my vacation!

I’d go on longer, there is much to tell. But tonight is Oprah night, and the 8th of 10 web events for the book A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose.

So I’m off … catch you later!

j.

Sunday, March 9, 2008

No more teenagers ... woo-hoo?!?

As of Friday, the 7th, I am no longer the mother of teenagers - younger daughter turned 20! Older daughter pointed out that it seemed to be a bigger deal, for some reason, than when she had the same birthday. Well naturally - because when older daughter turned 20 I still had a 17-year old. I don't really think it's that younger daughter is 20 that feels so different, rather it's the fact that I am apparently old enough to have multiple children "in their twenties" that boggles my little mind. In any event - Happy Birthday, honey!!


love much,

Merm

Saturday, February 23, 2008

A Dog's Purpose

Borrowed from an email that showed up in my in-box the other day ...

Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. The dog's owners Ron, his wife, Lisa, and their little boy, Shane, were all very attached to Belker, and they were hoping for a miracle.

I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family we couldn't do anything for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home.

As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for six-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt as though Shane might learn something from the experience.

The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away.

The little boy seemed to accept Belker’s transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while after Belker’s death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives. Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, "I know why."

Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I'd never heard a more comforting explanation.

He said, "People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life -- like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?" The six-year-old continued, "Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long."

Remember, if a dog was the teacher you would learn things like:

When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.

Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride.

Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure ecstasy.

Take naps.

Stretch before rising.

Run, romp, and play daily.

Thrive on attention and let people touch you.


Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.

On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass.

On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree.

When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body.

Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.

Eat with gusto and enthusiasm. Stop when you have had enough.

Be loyal. Never pretend to be something you're not.

If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.

When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by and nuzzle them gently.

Friday, February 22, 2008

I haven't even introduced them, and that seems pretty pathetic considering I decided to rename this blog in their honor. So here they are ...

Barkley is my boy

- he's an 11-year old Silky Terrier who does surely live up to his name. It's not why we chose it though, and the fact that he suffers he's from extreme separation anxiety and has barked until he's actually lost his voice is pure coincidence. He's a very handsome black and tan fellow (soon the black will be all silver, but we're not going there), not your typical Silky with his floppy ears and coat with a natural curl. I spontaneously brought him home one very, very bad day ... youngest daughter was 9 at the time, and burst into tears when she spotted him tucked into the front of my jean jacket as I walked in the front door ("do we get to keep him???" yes, indeed we do!) Best spontaneous decision I ever made.

Zoë Lucille is our Westie princess

-- she was a gift to oldest daughter on her 14th birthday, 9 years ago(!) in July, and even though Barkley likes everyone to think he'd have preferred to be an only child dog, he really has grown to love his sister. And even though she was involved in the demise of 1/2 jar of my favorite extra chunky peanut butter while I was at work the other day, she's a love. It's her warm breath and cold wet nose in my face that gets me out of bed in the morning - she's the snooze on my alarm. :)

MaggieMay - what do I say about MM

- she is the most recent addition to our house having come to us only in the last 2 years, making them all officially a pack of dogs. She's also the naughtiest yet the most eager to please – she was the instigator in the peanut butter incident. MM came to us after being rescued from a horrid situation with 55-60 other dogs. She had no social skills, was afraid of everyone and everything, and has some obvious physical, mental, and emotional scars from her previous life. But, youngest daughter is the collector of all things stray … friends and animals alike. And we love her (daughter and MM :). With their short little legs it's obvious Barks and Zoë would never make it up and onto the counter to scavenge for snacks, leaving muddy footprints across the flat oven top. Not saying the other two aren't taking advantage of any prizes she scores during the day while I'm away. Oh, and she can climb our weeping willow tree.

Collectively they’ve come to be known to family and friends as those naughty damn dogs! Come to think of it, bet the neighbors know it, too. ;)

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Politics (they're everywhere!)

As unimpressed as I am so far with both the D & R wanna be candidates, the office politics going on right now where I work are so much more painful. They are affecting friendships and previously positive working relationships practically to the point of paranoia. All because contractor and non-contractor staff (some of you will get this) are being forced to form new working relationships ... wait, new isn't the right word - NON working relationships is much more accurate. Friends and co-workers of 3o years (little more, little less, it's a helluva long time) are being forced to either take jobs at lesser pay levels or leave. Here's hoping all the smart ones will leave rather than be taken advantage of. And who knows for sure if any of us will still be there in a few months. Not I. But if I am one of those lucky (?) enough to survive the office holocaust, let me just say I will miss those of you who don't. On the other hand, if I am one of those handed a pink slip without an offer from the new company forthcoming ... I will miss those of you are lucky (?) enough to stay. And God bless us - everyone!

Thursday, January 24, 2008

From oldest daughter (the almost nurse!) ...

You know you're a nurse when..

1) the front of your scrubs reads "Nurses... here to save your ass, not kiss it!"

2) you occasionally park in the space with the "physicians only" sign... and knock it over.

3) you believe some patients are alive only because it's illegal to kill them.

4) you recognize that you can't cure stupid.

5) you own at least three pens with the names of prescription medications on them.

6) you believe there's a special place for the inventor of the call light.

7) you believe that saying "it can't get any worse" causes it to get worse just to show you it can.

8) you wash your hands BEFORE you go to the bathroom.

9) you believe that any job where you can drive to work in your pajamas is a cool one.

10) you consider a tongue depressor an eating utensil.

11) eating microwave popcorn out of a clean bedpan is perfectly natural.

12) you've been exposed to so many x-rays that you consider it a form of birth control.

13) you've ever heard a patient with a nose ring, a brow ring, and twelve earrings say "I'm afraid of shots."

14) you've ever placed a bet on someone's blood alcohol level.

15) you've told a confused patient that your name is that of a coworker and to call if they need help.

16) your bladder can expand to the size of a Winnebago's water tank.

17) you have seen more penises than any prostitute could dream of.

18) you believe that not all patients are annoying... some are unconscious.

19) your family and friends refuse to watch medical sitcoms with you because you spend the whole time
correcting everyone and pointing out upside down x-rays.

20) you don't get excited about blood, unless it's your own.

21) you've sworn to have "do not resuscitate" tattooed on your chest. Soon.

22) discussing dismemberment over a gourmet meal is perfectly normal to you.

23) your idea of fine dining is anywhere you can sit down to eat.

24) your idea of a good time is a cardiac arrest at shift change.

25) you believe in the aerial spraying of Prozac.

26) you believe that "shallow gene pool" should be a recognized diagnosis.

27) you believe that the government should require permits to reproduce.

28) you believe that unspeakable evils will befall anyone who utters the phrase "Wow, it's really quiet, isn't it?

29) you have ever had a patient look you straight in the eye and say "I have no idea how that got stuck in there."

30) you've had to leave a patient's room before you begin to laugh uncontrollably.

Saturday, January 5, 2008

Worry

WORRY

Is there a magic cutoff period when
Offspring become accountable for their own
Actions? Is there a wonderful moment when
Parents can become detached spectators in
The lives of their children and shrug, 'It's
Their life,' and feel nothing?

When I was in my twenties, I stood in a hospital
Corridor waiting for doctors to put a few
Stitches in my daughter's head. I asked, 'When do
You stop worrying?' The nurse said,
'When they get out of the accident stage.' My
Dad just smiled faintly and said nothing.


When I was in my thirties, I sat on a little
Chair in a classroom and heard how one of my
Children talked incessantly, disrupted the class,
And was headed for a career making
License plates. As if to read my mind, a teacher
Said, 'Don't worry, they all go through
This stage and then you can sit back, relax and
Enjoy them.' My dad just smiled
Faintly and said nothing.

When I was in my forties, I spent a lifetime
Waiting for the phone to ring, the cars to come
Home, the front door to open. A friend said,
'They're trying to find themselves. Don't worry ,
In a few years, you can stop worrying. They'll be
Adults.' My dad just smiled faintly
And said nothing.

By the time I was 50, I was sick & tired of being
Vulnerable. I was still worrying over my
Children, but there was a new wrinkle. There
Was nothing I could do about it. My
Dad just smiled faintly and said nothing. I
Continued to anguish over their failures, be
Tormented by their frustrations and absorbed in
Their disappointments.

My friends said that when my kids got married I
Could stop worrying and lead my own
Life. I wanted to believe that, but I was
Haunted by my dad's warm smile and his
Occasional, 'You look pale. Are you all right?
Call me the minute you get home. Are
You depressed about something?'

Can it be that parents are sentenced to a
Lifetime of worry? Is concern for one another
Handed down like a torch to blaze the trail of
Human frailties and the fears of the
Unknown? Is concern a curse or is it a virtue
That elevates us to the highest form of life?

One of my children became quite irritable
Recently, saying to me, 'Where were you? I've been
Calling for 3 days, and no one answered I was worried.'

I smiled a warm smile.

The torch has been passed.


PASS IT ON TO OTHER WONDERFUL PARENTS
(And also to your children. That's the fun part)


This 'Worry' email that showed up in my in-box seems especially appropriate today ... oldest daughter, who is 22, is recuperating from having her tonsils out yesterday. So I've been playing nurse (in a funny reversal of roles since *she* is the nursing student :) - doling out her medicines on schedule, making sure she stays hydrated by keeping her glass always full (gatorade, ice water, chicken broth, multi-colors of finger jell-o!), checking on her in the night to make sure she doesn't stop breathing what with the swelling in her throat and all. And youngest daughter, well she is hitting the road to go visit the boy she's gotten so fond of. She has a 2-hour trip ahead of her (new front brakes and fresh oil change for Doug!), and she was not so happy with me telling her to return Sunday so she stays ahead of the freezing rain and snow that is predicted for Monday. Yes, you're right, tomorrow is Sunday.