Into the Wild

If you've ever encountered an animal of any kind, I'm sure you've instantly found yourself on guard, unsure of how to approach it, ultimately ready to protect yourself.Animals are a wonderful part of our world. While most animals are our loving friends, others are more dangerous, more unpredictable in their behavior. I've spent my time in my new position in the wild researching and studying the most unpredictable of them all: young homosapien offspring, specifically of the pre-training age. 

Due to the oldest of the two test subjects being in training 5 days a week, the majority of my daily research has been in regards to the youngest of the three involved, a mere 36 month old female. Despite her young age, she has proven to be the most challenging of test subjects; her behavior is often unpredictable, and her hair wild due to resisting her daily grooming. She often chews her talons to an incredibly short length, regardless of mood or situation. My studies regarding this behavior are ongoing.

Today's research began like any other day, and progressed as usual. Daily tasks were completed, meals were fixed, behaviors were dealt with, and plans modified. As one of two head-researchers on my team, I did my due diligence in making mental notes and recording any new data I encountered. I studied my subject with earnest, in awe of the creature's ability to continuously adapt to it's environment, routine and circumstances. At times, I was sure I could see it's brain growing, changing, and advancing, learning. 

Being able to watch this particular creature learn and grow every day for the past 6 months has truly been a blessing. This particular subject has been found to have limitless energy, and in fact has refrained from daily resting periods for quite some time. Although this denies me the pleasure of having downtime to catch up on my documentation, I stay the course, knowing that my efforts are bound to be fruitful. 

A trip to the correspondence depository proved to be too much for the subject, and her demeanor quickly changed. The subject was suddenly uncooperative, and I was unable to corral the creature into the vehicle. After struggling and chasing the subject for several minutes, I was able to secure her in the vehicle and we made our way to procure the other two subjects from their training session. Before long, we had picked up the other two subjects, and were on our way back to the facility.

I soon realized that I needed more supplies for meal preparations, and decided to change direction. After collecting the few supplies I was in need of, I directed the three to the purchasing area. The youngest, suddenly upset at being denied treats, began to wail. It was a wild, unrelenting, screeching wail, one that could shatter glass. In an attempt to subdue the outbursts, and maintain control of the quickly deteriorating situation, I subtly ignored her, paid for my items, and made by way back to the vehicle. 

What came next was astounding, to say the least. She screeched and shrieked louder and louder, a steady piercing crescendo of a wail, almost howling at times. Realizing I was not responding to her wild and unruly behavior, she began to flail her arms, eventually throwing herself to the ground. I was astonished. I had never encountered a deterioration in her behavior such as this before. It was truly monumental, and had to be contained. 

Onlookers were speechless and I felt their stares burning into me; I feared their judgement. I questioned my effectiveness as a researcher, as I attempted to contain her, and failed. I attempted to catch her in the vehicle lot, but was unable to, as she was much faster than I, and ran several circles around other vehicles, dangerously darting between them. After her third lap around the 7 passenger transportation vehicle, I ensnared her in my grasp, giant drops of salty fluid dripping from her eyes. This catastrophic meltdown was truly unique, and quite possibly the most public of them all. It would most certainly have to be documented for future evaluation of the species. 

After finally subduing this wild animal into the vehicle, I made several mental notes, gathered myself, and headed back to the facility. I wasn't sure if this was a phase of her growth to maturity, but knew it required further research. I wondered whether other researchers encountered similar behavior with their own test subjects, but couldn't be sure. I knew I would have to share this event with my research partner upon his return from his outpost, and I was anxious and exhausted, eager to get back.

Before I knew it, we had returned, and I entertained the subjects with some training activities, while I began my documentation. Tomorrow would be another day in the Wild, another day of learning, growing, and bonding with my animals. Despite the day's events, and the challenges I face on a daily basis,  I found myself smiling, realizing just how much I have valued this period of time I've had with them. I realized that despite it all,  I love them. 

Fever, Peppermint, Whales, and a Purple Elephant

My youngest has had a fever for the past two days. Now, as a nurse, I try not to overreact when it comes to illness and fevers (other nurses, I know you are nodding your heads in agreement). In fact, I often joke that we only go to the doctor or hospital if we think we are dying. (again, more nods). This can be a good think, or a really bad thing.

Kids however, are pretty resilient. Often times mine are sick due to a virus and that tends to run it's course after a few days. My love for essential oils has really helped with symptom management, which I attempted to implement last night, after several days of Arden not feeling well. (disclaimer: I am not a doctor. Nothing I say or do will in any way treat or cure any illness or disease).

So, last night Arden was up again during the middle of the night for several hours, and in her feverish state announced that she thought that there were whales in the bed that were trying to eat her. (ugh....dying inside).
 I paused, then said to her "Oh, I don't think whales would want to eat you."
"They ARE" she responded

So, I picked her up, took her downstairs and suggested applying some oils.
"What if mommy rubs some peppermint oil on you? That will help cool you off, you know?"
She looked at me with that feverishly dazed look and said, "No."

I decided to try to change my approach, hoping for her to allow me SOMETHING that would give her relief, and give ME some sleep.
"Well you know, I heard whales don't like peppermint oil."
"Really?" she asked, somewhat excitedly. "Yep, it's true." I said. "A long time ago, a whale chewed some peppermint gum, and then ended up blowing bubbles out it's blow-hole, and it got stuck! So now whales don't go near anything with peppermint in it!"
She stared at me as though she was contemplating my sincerity.
"I bet if we put that on you, the whales won't try to eat you" I told her.
"Okay, I'll have some peppermint oil" she said.

Inside, I was laughing, smiling at the nature of the conversation, and equally exhausted at trying to convince her of something. (any parent of young kids understands this, I'm sure). I applied it gently, thinking of all the past fevers, illnesses, colds, and sickness, as well as imagined all of the future ones to come.

I carried her upstairs, tucked her in, and hoped for the best. Soon she was breathing rapidly but quietly, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, I'd be able to sleep! It was only a few minutes later and she woke.
 "Mom! there's a purple elephant over there." she said.
"Oh, really?" I asked. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, I am mom." she stated clearly. I cringed, waiting for another request to go back downstairs for a drink of water, to use the toilet, or get a snack.
"Well, it's ok. It won't hurt you." I said matter-of-factly.
"No, it's with the whales and the whales aren't eating me." she said, then rolled over and fell asleep.
Go figure, I thought to myself as I quietly thanked my bottle of peppermint oil.

As I always say, life is about BALANCE. Despite our efforts, we caved, went to the doctor, gave a urine sample, and started an antibiotic...go figure.

Address Book

As I looked through my address book yesterday, I realized I had neglected updating it for quite awhile, and it was in dire need of some attention. Now, I realize I don't send as much "snail-mail" as I used to, but I really LOVE writing real letters, as well as receive them, and I was suddenly compelled to make all the necessary changes and updates so I could start writing letters again....and send them to the right places too.

I flipped through it slowly, noticing all the changes. Changes in addresses, changes in relationships, and names and addresses of those who passed on. Each entry that was no longer valid, seemed to signify something; a loss of life, loss of friendship, people's life changes, and MY life changes. In some ways, it was a visual reminder of some of my worst mistakes as well.

 I noticed I still had my grandmother's address written down, in spite of her death years ago.  As I put my correcter pen to work, I had a wave of guilt wash over me. I felt as though my actions were essentially erasing these people from my life, and I felt awful. Was the lack of correction my way of remembering them, of honoring them? Sounds strange, but felt true.

I realized I had never erased those addresses in the past, because I felt bad about it, as though if I did, I was saying they didn't exist. As my eyes welled up with tears, I gently and deliberately whited out my grandmother's address, and all the other incorrect and invalid entries that remained. I knew my grandmother, up in heaven, would not care, and her past existence in my life was evident in everything around me; her antique furniture and linens I inherited, spoons and silverware I use daily, and her antique lamp in my dining room. I didn't need the entry in order to remember her, or know that I loved her. I had to move on.

As I walked into the kitchen to refill my cold cup of coffee, I glanced in the dining room mirror, and I saw her. I saw her in my reflection, looking back at me. In fact, every day I see her as well as my other grandparents in the faces and expressions of my children, in the flashes of memory triggered by a smell, or sight, when I use their furniture,  or when I complete daily tasks that remind me of them.  I see them reflected in the traits of my other family members, because we are just that: family.

No, I was most certainly not negating her existence. I realized in my own way, I've kept their memory alive by BEING alive. They live on through myself, my children, and my other family members, and as I carefully erased those entries in my address book, I softly cried, and whispered "I love you."

A Season of Change: Adapt and Overcome

Adapt and Overcome

When I look back on the past three months I think I've lived through more seasons of change than ever before in my life. I've not only quit the career I expected and hoped to love, but took on a newer and far more challenging endeavor: being a "stay-at-home-mom." Now, I'd like to just stop here and give some acknowledgement to all of the SAHM's out there: You.Are.Awesome. Me, I'm still a work in progress.

I feel as though I've ALWAYS had a job, and quite frankly, I'm not sure if I know who I am without one. Quitting my nursing job was very liberating, but also nuts, not just financially, but in terms of identity. Who would I be without my position as a nurse? I suddenly felt slightly inadequate, as if I was less than who I had been before. Would being a SAHM be enough? What on earth could I do to contribute financially? I was overwhelmed with questions and concerns. Nevertheless, I chose to jump into my new role as SAHM with gusto at the beginning of summer, only to realize that as usual, my timing was NOT ideal......at all. 

Some sayings come to mind like "ignorance is bliss" and "hindsight is 20/20." I certainly hadn't taken into consideration the fact that with school out, all THREE of the girls would be home, and that would lead to what I call "Clash of the Siblings." If there ever is a "next time" I'll be sure to take school into consideration. I busied myself trying to complete all 100 of the projects I never had time to do before when I had a full-time job. I put in a garden, weeded my garden beds regularly, made numerous task lists, cleaned, organized, re-organized, purged, held garage sales (yes, SALES), and made more lists. Eventually, I overwhelmed myself. I crumbled. 

Now, I'm not usually one to admit failure. In fact, I'm somewhat of a perfectionist, and can't handle accepting defeat. I had however, defeated myself; I basically drove myself into the ground trying to do it all. I was unable to adapt to my new circumstances. The funny thing is, I'm realizing that's just part of who I am. I can't help myself. I have SO many things that I love to do, that I truly want to accomplish them all. Soon, as summer came to a close and the start of school came near, I felt relieved. 

The sudden realization that two of my three girls would be in school gave me room to breathe (between tears of sadness and feelings of sheer guilt, of course) because I knew that I would have what I was desperately wanting, and in need of: time. Time to work on my side-businesses and hobbies, time for coffee dates and play-dates, and time with my youngest who is no longer a baby. Knowing that Fall was near, gave me  hope, and a sense of calm. I no longer feared the change, but embraced it, appreciating what it might bring, and after the past three months I was ready. I felt I could overcome the summer and face the fall season with optimism. 

 In the rush of living life, getting married, working full-time and having three kids, I realized that I never really just had time to just live and enjoy the people and things that I love. I would imagine that we all feel this way at some point, that life gets away from us, and that "time flies." Before we know it our lives have gone by so fast we hardly believe that we lived it. I am glad that despite my doubts, I made my choice to stay home. I've been able to spend time with my girls, craft, do things that I love, work my side-businesses, and enjoy life. The arrival of the Autumn season is one that I am embracing with open arms and with hope and anticipation of what's in store; whatever happens, I know I'll just have to "Adapt and Overcome."

My Life in Letters - Dear five-year-old me

Dear five year old me,

I hope that you know how lucky you are. Well, I know you don't, because you're me, just thirty years ago, and I'm you thirty years in your future. Your life is  pretty amazing at the moment: I know, because I lived it. You are too little to appreciate it, but you have a great family and are incredibly loved! You are living in a foreign country and experiencing life like very few people get to.

You were four when you moved there, which is pretty young! Right now, mom is homeschooling you, which I know you're not appreciating, but in the future you will. You'll have faint distant memories of her being with you all the time, sewing, baking, and just being mom. You'll recall tropical rainy season days, saving dying birds, harvesting chickens, chewing buai, and gecko flicking...yes, that is a thing. In a few years you'll go to boarding school, which you'll never forget.

You'll have lots of memories. What's important is what you do with them. Every memory and experience you have there will help to shape who you become in your future. If I could give you some advice it would be this: Play hard, love hard, and dream big. Appreciate everything that you have and hold on to everything that makes you YOU. Don't settle, or lower your expectations, ever. Be the best you can be at everything you do, and do it with kindness, compassion, grace, and intelligence. Listen well to everything and everyone around you, and speak less: find the value in the times when you speak and make your words count. You have a loud voice, which dad will tell you constantly for the next 15 years...just remember that it isn't the volume of your voice, but what you say that makes you heard.

Be true to yourself and love yourself. You are pretty independent and strong-minded. You know who you are, you just have to be comfortable in your own skin. Be smart and don't ever stop reading, learning, or pursuing things that interest you. Do what you love. You are creative and interesting, and funny. Be that person always. Your future is both dark and bright at the same time. I'm not going to say that you won't have struggles or times you feel lost. I would be lying to you. People won't always like you or value you. Just know that living your life according to what other people think is a pretty miserable existence (you end up doing this in your future occasionally). Be yourself and great people will love and appreciate you as you should be.

So much time has passed since I was you, even though it feels like it was yesterday. I look back now and wish I could have locked those memories up so I wouldn't forget them all. You have so much life ahead of you, and so much to learn and experience. I  want you to always remember who you are and tell you to never take anything for granted. So go, run barefoot like you always do, play, laugh and enjoy your life. Because no matter what the future holds, life is pretty amazing.

My Life in Letters - Dear Children

Dear Children,

I'm writing to let you know that I am going on strike: that's right. I am no longer going to continuously pick your stuff up off the floor as I follow you around the house all day, before and after each meal and before bed.This includes the my daily routine of the following (to name a few): placing the footstool back in the bathroom 10 times, vacuuming three times, doing dishes 5 times, folding 3 loads of laundry, picking up pencils, placing toys in the basket, picking up food off the floor multiple times, turning the air conditioner back on 6 times, stacking books in the book basket multiple times, folding blankets 3 times, and more. You will now have to pick up your own clothes, and personal belongings off the floor (gasp!) and put away your own toys! In other words, you will follow the rules; rules we put in place a long time ago, and that we have just been too lazy to enforce. But, because your mom is tired, fried, and emotionally drained, things are going to have to change. 

I might not be homeschooling you (um, no thank you!) but if I'm going to be a stay-at-home mom, I plan to teach you something: the Golden Rule.  I plan on teaching you how to be good, responsible human beings, hopefully one day, good responsible adults. 

I want you to LOVE each other and RESPECT each other. I don't care if you LIKE each other, because I know that you won't all the time. Just work it out already! No pinching, kicking, hitting, hair pulling, biting, smacking, or shoving! And, here's something else: Yelling really only gets people's attention: it makes them hear you, not listen to you. If you really want someone to listen to you, yelling is not the way.

I really want to enjoy the summer with you. I want to take you places like the park, the pool, and the library without constant fighting and bickering. I want to have fun and make new memories with the three of you and Dad.

I'm not only going on strike because I'm worn out, but because I love you and want to you be good, happy, loving individuals. I feel the only way to help you learn this lessons, is to do a better job as your mom, and enforce the rules. Now, I'm not sure how long this strike will last. My goal is 5 days. Please bear with me, and try to do your best to help out and be good. Just remember, I'm not the maid, I'm your mom. 

Please clean your room. 

Thanks. 

Love,  Mom  

The Purge

Trash or treasure...

It's amazing the amount of things we accumulate in our lives. Over time (and after countless trips to Wal-Mart) we end up with so much junk....how much of it do we really need?

Since deciding to quit my job and stay home, I've been in full "purge" mode, going through rooms and the cupboards and/or closets in those rooms and getting rid of "stuff." If it doesn't mean anything to me, or if I haven't used it or worn it in the past 6 months, it's on its way out. After having three kids (an no immediate or future plans for more) I felt I could have started up a baby supply store on our barn...no joke. It was stifling! Seeing it every day was driving me nuts and I couldn't take it anymore. Something had to be done about it.

In all honesty, I despise having garage sales and think it's a bit weird when I go to them: walking among other people's belongings, judging, debating, wondering about their tastes ("they're selling that?") or having one myself: it's way too much work, and I really don't want to have to "counter haggle" my price on something with a fellow towns-person I may run into in the not-so-far-in-the-future, future. It's just uncomfortable!

So I had a garage sale. And, by garage sale, I mean YARD sale (as we don't have a garage), which ended up lasting not just the initial weekend, but the next week and into the following weekend! See, why move it twice? I figured that by leaving it on tables in my front yard, it would give people plenty of chances to check out the goods.....(ha ha). When it was all said and done (and a whole week of my life gone, evaporated) I made a little cash, and got rid of a bunch of things.

Even better than the meager income I made from the yard sale is the improvement in my health, both physically and mentally: my mind feels more clear, and my shins are less bruised too.  I gave up the need to do the 400M hurdles every day, and gained the increased ability to breathe: the calm that comes with a cleansing breath, so to speak. With less clutter, I feel like I can finally evaluate and appreciate what I have. I can SEE and use the things that have value and meaning to me and in my life. And deep purging may just uncover something valuable that you forgot you had! Using my grandma's silverware means more to me than the set we were using before: half of it was lost to the trash thanks our 2 yr old, I suspect.Quite frankly,  I don't see the point in having something if I'm not going to use it.

So, if you're feeling a bit stifled, suffocated, or like you're drowning in your surroundings, satisfy that urge to purge and try it for yourself. You'll feel much better, your house will look better (or, empty if you happen to take the whole thing too far) and you'll be able to focus on what matters to you most, which isn't actually tangible after all. Deciding to love your life is lovely :)

- Em

"SAHM"

Ok, so I'm a bit late on my update. I know, I was going to do it a week ago, but I got busy, sidetracked. I've had a lot to do! Choosing to be a "SAHM" (stay-at-home-mom) has been quite the adjustment! So, now it's been a whopping two weeks since I've taken an early "retirement" from my job and taken on my new roll as a full time SAHM.

I'll be honest, I'm not really fond of the SAHM title, since it makes the job sound really boring and simple, or lazy: "she's a mom that stays at home" or "she doesn't work, she stays home with her kids." Anyone who chooses to do the SAHM gig, knows that this is far from reality, and that every day is full of constant cleaning, fixing meals, laundry, tidying, pottying, diapering, tear-wiping, and running interference when the kids decide to re-enact WWF fights in your living room. 

Being with the kids on a more constant basis has also provided increased opportunities for sharing...germs that is. Now instead of being exposed to their germs for a particular set of hours in the day, I'm exposed ALL DAY LONG. Ugh, the coughing, sneezing, nose-wiping, booger smearing is atrocious! I've been cleaning, sanitizing, essential oiling, medicating, and still, I got sick in spite of it all. And I got it all: fever, cough, chills, runny nose, sore throat, and more.  My SAHM title is more like "Sick At Home Mom," which many of you know, is next to impossible. With any gain (my illness) of course comes loss. In fact, last night I lost my voice.

I'm not sure about any of you, but losing your voice is a real challenge when you have kids, especially young ones. They're always wanting something, needing something...that something usually being you, which of course requires a response. What does one do when they cannot speak? Well today I've basically been hoarsely screeching in my raspy whisper, trying to communicate as best I can. I feel like I'm yelling, just more quietly.

 It definitely affects my multitasking capabilities, as I can no longer sit in one room while they are in the other, and call to them my usual commands: "girls stop it, quit biting, stop hitting your sister, pick up your toys, throw away your trash, stop dragging the dog by his neck, and be nice!" And the girls, sensing my new state of speechless-ness, have apparently opted to pretend they aren't hearing me at all, as evidenced by today's activities which included rearranging the living room furniture while I was in the other room....geez! Of course, I can still physically complete all the necessary tasks of the day, I just can't communicate to my offspring. So, I guess I'm "half-tasking" it all. 

There really isn't a solution either, except for time. Lord knows, I've tried it all anyway: salt water gargle, throat sprays, herbal tea, etc etc. I may have to come up with a game plan however, because as moms, we know how fast things can get out of hand. One minute our house is neat and tidy, and the next thing we know, we've used the restroom and come out to find that little tazmanian devils have tornadoed their way through the house, and we're back to square one. It's kind of like the house cleaning version of Groundhog Day: clean, repeat. clean, repeat.

After throwing around several different ideas (complete family silence, sign-language, hand gestures, writing notes) I've decided on the simple yet practical whistle. It's genius really. I mean, one tweet for yes, two for maybe, and three loud distinct tweets for NO. Ridiculous, maybe. Loud and obnoxious, probably. Ear-piercing, definitely. Effective,  hopefully (keeping fingers crossed).  I mean, if it worked for Captain Von-Trapp in The Sound of Music, then I'm hoping it works for me.....at least for the next few days until I get my voice back. Now, if only I could find that whistle...

Steak or Spinach?

A long time ago, one of my best friends inspired me to collect quotes (her name is Brooke) and one of my favorites resembles something like this: "What's right isn't always popular, and what's popular isn't always right." This sentiment rang very true to me recently, causing me to question exactly how far I would be willing to go to stand up for what I believe in: myself.

I recently made the decision (see The Choice) to end my 10 year employment at my job, where I am a registered nurse. Let me just start by saying that nursing is NOT what it used to be. Our increasingly egocentric and entitled society has adversely affected healthcare, by placing more value on a patient's perception of the quality of their healthcare, rather than what the medical professional caring for them, deems to be necessary. Reimbursements made to hospitals are largely based on patient satisfaction scores, and hospitals these days are all about scores, scores, scores. H no longer stands for Hospital, but rather Hilton: nurses are servants, techs are bellboys, and the doctors are the chefs, serving up whatever the patient demands from the menu of tests, workups, and medications they want. God forbid there's a dissatisfied customer: that person has the ultimate say, and chances are, when the tenant in room 10 calls the "front desk" to complain that the servant didn't do their job, forgot their warm blanket, or behaved badly, the hotel manager won't be there to defend you. 

Nurses work hard. The job is not only physically, mentally, and emotionally challenging, but stressful. A nurse has to be smart and multifaceted. He or she has to use all of their body to perform their job; not just their brain, but their heart. They have to think fast, be intelligent, anticipate the needs of the doctors, evaluate and assess the patient's complaints and physical presentation, have medication knowledge, math skills, and understanding of various disease processes, all the while exhibiting the caring and compassion they feel for their patients. The daily stress endured in a high tension job can really take it's toll on a person. Imagine having a job where you don't just do one thing, but rather fifty jobs in one. Yep, it's that intense. 

I would have to speak for most nurses, when I say that the job doesn't allow for much time to care for ourselves. We often go without lunch, or even restroom breaks, just so we can care for others. And often, it doesn't matter all that much, because we love what we do; we allow it to continue because it is "the way it is." In many of these cases, we look to our leadership to support and defend us. Because all great hospitals and institutions should care about their staff. Because sorry folks, the patient is NOT always right. Just because the popular thing to do right now in healthcare is to always defend the patient, no matter what, doesn't make it RIGHT, especially if they're wrong. We should be defending what's best for the patient, not defending the patient's perception. We should always advocate for the patient; just because the patient wants the Chef to fix them a steak when they have heart disease, doesn't mean that we should; instead, the Chef fixes them a spinach salad because it's in their best interest. (unless they're on Coumadin of course). Even though it's not popular, it's the right thing to do. 

And that's what we do; we stand up for our patients, for what we believe in. That's what most nurses want too, I would imagine, to feel that they are supported and that someone has their best interests at heart, and would stand up for them. A true leader does just that: they lead: not just in presence, but by example. If as a nurse, your management abandons you, mistreats you, or in far worst cases, tells you that they care less about your skills than your personality, and that they could train a monkey to do your job, what would you do? Would you stand up for yourself? More often than not, we as nurses endure this, but I must say that those individuals are wrong. You may want to sit down for a minute. It may come as a shock to some, but I'm going to lay it out there: a monkey would most definitely not be able to do this job.

The easy, typical thing that we all do, is deal with it, accept what's popular: tattling, unprofessional co-workers, even if it isn't right. What we should be doing is what's right, even if it isn't popular: Stand up for ourselves, and each other by supporting each other. Nursing is a wonderful profession, which lately seems to be seen as more of a toxic three-ring circus, then a respected career. So I made that choice, to stand up for what I feel is important: being valued, respected, and appreciated. I chose to quit, and spend my time where I know I have those very things, with my family at home. My sincere hope is that all of the "Hiltons" out there realize that the true secret to ultimate "customer" satisfaction (and therefore, reimbursement), is nurse satisfaction. Just like the phrase, "happy wife, happy life." "Happy nurse, fatter purse" so-to-speak. 

 I find myself comparing being a nurse to being Cinderella. The new remake has a great quote in it that I love: "Have courage and be kind." No matter what you do for a living, I hope you have courage: the strength to be true to yourself, and defend yourself, your values, and what you believe in, and to be kind: be kind not only to others, but to yourself by doing the right thing. Because "What's right isn't always popular, and what's popular isn't always right." 

The Choice

Every day we get out of bed and make an array of choices; we choose what we want to wear, what we want to eat, and what we want to do for the day. We choose.  More often than not, those choices are small, and really very insignificant. In fact, we make those choices so often, that we don't even realize we are making them!

Recently I made a decision, a rather large one, based on a choice. It was a choice I made for something greater than myself and for something significant, rather than for something mundane. I choice happiness. It probably sounds ridiculous, I know. Who doesn't want to be happy? I realized that in order to try to be happy in all aspects of my life, I had to choose to relinquish the one thing that both financially supported my family, and made me miserable at the same time, my job.

Now, I'm a registered nurse. Most people share the common misconception that nurses are paid really well for what they do. In some cases, this may be true, although I'm sure the majority of nurses out there would agree that the pay isn't always what keeps us employed, but rather the caring of others, and the feeling of appreciation that we get from the patients that we care for; the ability to make a difference.  What people don't realize, is that although rewarding in many ways, nursing is extremely stressful, especially with all of the changes in healthcare these days, where patients' opinions ultimately dictate our evaluations. Not only do you have to be intelligent, organized, bright, fast-thinking, efficient and hard-working, but you have to be all of these things everyday, while advocating for your patient and trying not to make medication errors, or other mistakes that could cost someone their life.  It hardly compares to dressing a mannequin or making a Big Mac.

Over time, specifically in my case, almost 10 years, I came to realize that the stress of this job was making me an unhappy person. As a mother of three girls, I want to cherish their childhood and be able to say that I was present in their young lives. I don't want to wake up one day and find that I missed out on their young years. I realized that so much of what I initially loved about nursing has changed: it has become more about the reimbursement and less about the patient, or the nurses for that matter. That constant stress and the increasing lack of appreciation from an ever-growing population of ungrateful system-abusing individuals, can really wear a person down.  Eventually, something had to give.

And so, it did. I gave up, or did I? I made the choice to quit my job and be free of that stress, that negativity in my life.  I gave up my job, but in turn, I chose NOT to give up on my family. What I'm gaining with this single choice is the freedom to make more choices! I am choosing to spend more time with my kids, my husband, my family. I'm choosing to be more independent, resourceful, creative, and to enjoy the simple things in life. This choice is huge, and although it may cause other stress (financial) I'm willing to endure it in order to be more present: to hug my kids more, to go for more walks, kiss more boo-boo's, read more books,  craft more, and do all of the things that feed my soul rather than my wallet.

 Sometimes we have to  make the decision to choose what's best for ourselves and our families in the long run; see what matters most and make the choice to invest in it, to enjoy it, and to live it. Do what you love, but just don't sacrifice yourself in order to do it.  Be courageous and make the decision to be happy, whatever that means to you. I did, and I can't wait to find more pleasure in the little  things, more satisfaction in the everyday, and more appreciation for the things I've taken for granted. It's never too late to make a decision and make a change in your life; choose happiness. It might just be the best choice you've ever made.