Carol's progress

Maybe you'll recall the uncomfortable meeting we had with Carol's teacher during parent-teacher conferences in October. At that time, she said she'd like to meet with us again after the new year.

So we e-mailed her and she was like, "Oh yeah. Sure. Come in."

And it was good news. Great even. Carol is doing so much better academically. When she started the year, she was reading at an early first grade level. Now, she's reading at a third grade level. I feel crappy about this, because I've always read to her and read with her, but I guess I won't dwell on my own issues (at least not right here, right now, on this blog).

Steve said the progress was so great, he wasn't even sure they were going to request a follow-up meeting. Way to go, Carol!

She still has some issues with self-control and impulsive behavior, but she's made friends and seems to have blended well into this group of students, many who have know each other since they started preschool together as 3 year olds. And it's for sure not perfect, but it is so much better.

What's awesome about night nursing?

And also a huge pain in the ass?

It's planning on working a 12-hour shift, so I sleep four hours during the day. Then getting called off and sleeping another hour in preparation for an 8-hour shift. And then getting called off and sleeping all night.

That's right folks. That's 13 hours of sleep. There goes my life.

But I feel awesome!

The Crier

Sort of like The Thinker, but with less nobility. It's like when I was a new parent, all self-critical and self-depreciating. Only, now it's happening in the workplace and I'm almost 40 years old. Hooray!

Work has been hard lately. And not hard in the way all-work-is-hard kind of way. Hard in that soul-sucking kind of way that leads to tears and self doubt. Lots of tears. Tears that flow in shower or into whatever dinner I happen to be making. Tears that flow freely upon the iPhone.

And there's no better time for all these feeling to reach their peak than during the annual review.

When my very sweet boss says to me, "So, can you believe it! You've been a nurse for a year!" and I look at her and begin openly weeping, one can conclude that the meeting isn't off to a great start.

About halfway through, she manages to tell me that crying is OK. I remind her that crying in the car is maybe OK. Or in a locked bathroom. It is no way OK to sob during the annual review.

Being a new nurse is hard. And it's extra hard when you are scheduled 5 night a week and when you have to attend quarterly meetings and when the day nurses take every opportunity to tell you how shitty a person you are. And sleeping 4 hours in a 40 hour stretch can take its toll.

Now I'm forced to contemplate changing jobs. This sucks because I finally know where all the rooms are and where they keep the emesis basins (puke tubs). But while emailing a former classmate, I learned that not ALL day nurses are bitches! What!!!

For now, I have finally come to the conclusion that it isn't all me. That I'm not a horrible nurse (my boss even said this as I cried upon the papers that state clearly I'm doing a great job) and that sometimes, you have to re-evaluate your first choices because they're not all going to be winners.

Long weekend

Had a great long weekend with the family. Made pizzas. Took a day trip to Chicago. Cleaned the basement. Woohoo!

But my favorite part was the sledding. By far. Even though I think I broke my thumb, sledding is still the most fun a mom can have on a long, January weekend.

Secrets

Come children. Gather round. Watch as our all-time favorite blogger sticks her foot in her mouth. What's that? You've seen that one already?

When I said the people I work with are unhappy, what I meant to say was, there are some people working on 6 West that are not all that pleasant, but those people in NO WAY indicates Kathy Reynolds. No way... In fact, most of the people at work during the night are very pleasant, happy people. Especially Kathy Reynolds. But even most of the others.

(I had no idea people at work actually read my blog... )

On to other stuff. The other day, Carol was blathering on about vandalism in the locker rooms when the topic of secrets came up. From the backseat, a quiet, ominous voice said...

"We all have secrets. I (pause for dramatic effect) have secrets."

Oh Penny. If I had known the things you know at 6 years old (or maybe even 26 years old), I could have ruled the world. As it is, I have to settle working with extremely fun, entertaining, happy people.

Especially Kathy Reynolds.

Young love

His name is Mario. And I know more about him than I'd like to admit.

Resolving to resolve more

I have one more New Year's resolution to my list. I'm resolving to write more neatly. This might seem like a small thing, but I recently decided my signature looked like something a 7-year-old might do, and not the neatest of 7-year-olds.

Also, I think my goals at work need to be a little more fully explored this year. Sure, tidy penmanship is a good place to start, but as someone who took 62 credit hours in one year and became a registered nurse, with a bachelor degree no less, perhaps I should be considering some longer-term goals.

This all came around after I looked at how unambitious my New Year's resolutions were. And then, I had to do a self-evaluation at work and it because clear that I really had no goals. I've been thinking about this a lot, and wondering where I should go from here. There are no easy answers to this. The things I want accomplish likely will mean a applying for a new job, a task I really, really, really don't want to do, mostly because it seems like it would require a lot of work.

My main goal is to work days. Working nights sucks. Sucks big time. Barring that, I want to work with the critically ill. At my current job, I thought I'd be able to move to days within 2 years. Staffing changes have made that possibility slimmer and slimmer. So what's a nurse to do? Just wait in a job that has horrible hours and some other unpleasantness (people where I work typically don't seem like a super happy bunch), or try for something new after only a year.

It's a pickle. And the worst part is I'm starting this job much too late in life. There are a lot of downsides to a second career. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE being a nurse and I'm so happy I went back to school, but I just don't have as much time to build a career. Also, I don' t have the flexibility (or stamina) as a 22-year-old nurse without a family.

And why am I writing all this? Because I'm resolving to write more about what going back to nursing school as a mid-30s mom means. For instance, it means I'll never wear this to work...

Bummer. I know.

But it also means I was able to have two careers that I loved. And that I can bring some of my past experiences to my job. And it means that even if I'm chronically tired and slower than my new-nurse co-workers, my life is full from top to bottom. That's awesome, I think....

"2012 Best List Ever" list

So, not the best list ever. Just want to be clear about that.

I have little ambition these days. I want to do a good job at work, spend as much time with my family as possible, sleep in a bed at night on the days I don't work and not spend ALL my free time attempting to either clean and/or organize something. These are not really resolutions. More like wants and needs.

I've set my expectations pretty low this year. So here goes:

1. Quit Facebook. I think I've said what I needed to say on the subject.

2. Organize one room in the house every month this year. This is a joint resolution with Steve (Carol seemed pretty interested too). We just have a lot of crap, so we are attempting to purge. The first room, our back room in the basement, is the largest project so we're going to tackle that one first, on Martin Luther King Jr. weekend. Because Martin Luther King Jr. would have wanted it that way.

3. I will run at least one race longer than a 5K. My two half marathon resolution of 2011 showed me the importance of reaching a little lower than the stars. Instead, I'll settle with trying to swipe the ceiling with my fingertips.

4. I will try to read the paper every day. I will really, really try.

5. I will remember to bring cloth bags to the grocery store.

5. I will try to relax.

And that's it folks. No foreign languages. No advanced degrees. No exercise classes or knitting lessons. Basically, I just want this year to be an improved edition of last year, because last year wasn't so bad, even with the failure.

And, just FYI, this is what a 38-year-old woman looks like after being awake for 26 hours. I know, I know. Don't everybody propose all at once.

House husband

My husband, who let me sleep until 4 pm, took the kids to the playground and let me sleep for 7 straight hours, also made dinner. And this is why I need a house husband, because I've become accustomed to this life.

This is Texas chili from Epicurious. It's sort of like chili stew with a side of beans and rice. Fantastic.

A new chance at failure

I shouldn't feel bad. Really I shouldn't. I had a solid run.

For about 3 years in a row, I was master of New Year's resolution list. I not only accomplished things on my list (rejoining the Catholic church, running a half marathon), I did things AHEAD of time (got into nursing school, beetchees). So, when I accomplished just one thing from the 2011 list, I shouldn't let that make me into a complete failure. Some people don't even have the energy to make a list, much less check things off that theoretical list. And passing the NCLEX, the one thing I actually did, was a biggie.

Still, I can't help but think 2012 will be better. Bigger and better, with less failure.

I have not yet completed the 2012 "Best List Ever" list, but I am definitely (almost definitely) doing one thing... I'm getting off the Facebook. That horse has been ridden to death and I think it's time. I'm not actually going to post this on Facebook, because it's one of those things people threaten to do, but then don't do after many FB friends, some I sure I've never actually met in person, state what a sad day it would be to never read about my adorable, relevant little updates.

A sad day indeed. And while I'm happy to be rid of this time-waster, I do feel like some people might take my departure as a personal affront to our deep and meaningful friendship. People I haven't see in more than a decade will feel let down by my sudden absence.

The truth is, I feel kind of bad about it. It's like a breakup, because, let's be honest here, I am sort of ditching the acquaintance friends of my life. High school chums. Old work buddies. College pals. Sorry. I do feel bad that I'll no longer be able to creep on your kids, or find out what you like to eat for breakfast, but we all knew this day was coming. And I'm pretty sure I won't be the only one heading for a FB-free life.

So here's to a 2012 free of failure. And if I do fail, at least I won't feel obligated to post it on Facebook.

Penny's 6

Well, she was 6, like, a month ago. But here's her birthday pictures now. Live with it.

Halloween

The girls and I have been planning for this day for months. That's not a lie or an exaggeration, but it is sorta sad. We decided to go as The Powerpuff Girls, the girls' absolute favorite show of all time. And, truth be told, I love it too. Three cutie pie sisters who kick serious villain ass, all with the best theme song of all time.
Anyway, we've been planning our costumes since July. And even though there was much discussion, there were holes in our plan. For instance, the dark-haired child probably shouldn't have been the blonde Bubbles. And the light haired child shouldn't have been the black-haired Buttercup. And they don't make green dresses for little girls. And, honestly, I'm not sure why a 38-year-old woman thought she could pull off a kindergarten-aged character. I always get a little crazy at Halloween.

Well, it wasn't a hit. But it wasn't a bust either. The girls already decided they want to be scary things next year. And the year after that they'll probably want to be he same thing as their friends. And then, I'm sure I'll have years and years of slutty Halloween costumes to battle. So this year we were sisters. Triplets. And we were just in time.

P-T conferences

I experienced the full range of emotions for this year's parent teacher conferences. First off, the scheduling for these meetings was impossible for a mom who works the night shift and gets roughly 8 solid hours of sleep each week. I had to wake up early and the meetings went like a little something like this:

Roll out of bed. Forget to brush teeth. Try NOT to look like a drug addict while nodding in agreement to everything. Apologize because it's difficulty to remember what grade your child is in.

The first meeting was with Penny's teacher. It went a little something like this:

Penny is wonderful. She is top of her class. She has many friends and she's very nice. She dresses great. She is very enthusiastic. Have you seen this artwork? How about this story she wrote? Where does she get her hair done?

Oh please... I am so rolling my eyes. I thank her teacher and try not to breath in her direction.

The second meeting was with Carol's teacher. It began a little something like this:

Do you mind if the school psychologist sits in on this meeting?

I'll go ahead and end that story there.

My pediatrician once told me not to compare my children. This is an impossible task because it's difficult not to say, "Why can't you be more like your sister and NOT get the psychologist involved?" But children are different and they bring a wide range of traits to the tiny table where parents sit to meet with their child's teacher. I really am grateful that my children are receiving the help they need, or the praise they deserve, at this new, wonderful school.

And thank goodness that's over until next year!

Rememberable mistakes

Remember that time, when you were a kid, when you're parents forgot to pick you up from practice. Or maybe, you had a class project they were supposed to help you with, but they forgot at the last minute and you ended up with some pasta glued to a poster board.

Steve remembers when his parents signed him up for soccer, only they didn't get him shin guards or cleats. He ended up shoving sticks in his socks.

Well, bad parenting moments have darkened our doorsteps this week. For sure.

While I forgot to give Penny her allergy medicine and forgotten to pack her snack, the worst lapse definitely was handed to Carol. We missed her soccer photos.

Yep. Sent Steve to the wrong field. By the time he got to the right field, you guessed it, pictures were over. So now, she'll have a bunch of solo soccer pictures, and a group picture without her. Awesome. Proof of our folly.

The week has pretty much gone like that. We decided to buy a white board so we can have a communal list of things that need to get accomplished. Hopefully this helps. Otherwise, we will continue to be the Keystone Cops of Metcalf families, tripping over our untied shoelaces while we race to whatever activity we happen to be late for.

The limit

I have been trying for years to extend myself beyond my capabilities and, I'm happy to report, I've succeeded at last.

Finally, I have come to the point where I can no longer add another activity to the roster. I can learn no new information. I cannot lose that last six pounds that keeps me overweight, BMI-inly speaking.

I am spent. Sure, the kids are out playing (aka, screaming) with the neighbors right now as I type away on this blog and they are in school for most of the day. Gone are the days of 15-minute stretches of toddler activity like block building and whatever other boring games parents play with their kids. But, for whatever reason, the working and running around required of school-aged children has presented a whole new set of challenges. And just when I had gotten the swing of things.

And here is why:

1) Night shift. I am always exhausted. Always. I don't remember the last time I felt great. I view Red Bull as a new food group. And I no longer sleep. I merely nap.

Today, I needed to pick Penny up from school at 1 p.m. I woke up at 1:00 p.m., on the nose. I was out the door and in line to get her at 1:05, and she didn't even know I was late. Or panicky. She did notice I still had a tag on my new shirt.

2) The minivan culture. I am constantly driving to pick somebody up or drop them off. I really am beginning to understand the sweatpants revolution. Why would you want to put on real pants when you never leave your car?

3) The scheduling. My calendar makes my head hurt. We have a color-coded, online calendar that send alerts about daily activities. And yet, I still was 10 minutes late from picking up Penny from her assessment this week. (What is it with forgetting Penny? Oh, and she's back to Penny, btw.)

4) Exhaustion. This deserves it's own category. Kids need to be out the door in the morning by 7:30. They have homework and activities and Barbie playtime, which means bedtime is rarely earlier than 8. I like to nap (see above) until 9. Then there are dishes to put away, lunches to pack, clothes to lay out, coffee to drink, schedules to check, etc., etc. Just so we can get up and start it all again tomorrow.

I'll end here, mostly because I'm too tired to go on. Today, as I was driving the girls home, Katy Perry's "Firework" came on the radio. It's the girls' favorite song, so sat in the driveway and sang it at the top of our lungs. Or, I tried to sing it. I was getting so weepy and emotional that my voices was cracking at the "Boom, Boom, Boom," part. That is what exhaustion does to a person. It makes Katy Perry deep.

This is my life. Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon. (sniff, sniff)

Vacation

I have very little time to blog these days. Between work, meetings, soccer practice and carting the kids back and forth to school each day, it seems I barely have time for the really important things in life. Like drinking wine.

But here's a little sample of vacation. The beach was beautiful. The guest house was beautiful. The weather was beautiful. My father-in-law was... well... let's just say he was there.

But the pictures, as you can see, are beautiful!

Hypochondriac

Carol, normally a very brave and oblivious little girl, has recently become very sensitive to ouchies. Her elbow hurts. Her cries are out of proportion with her injury. She has vague aches and pains.

The other day she said her ear hurt. Well, I stuck my finger in it to see if it was really true, just like a good mom. The pain, thankfully, was not on the inside. It was the lobe.

I asked her what she thought it was.

"I don't know," she snapped. "You're the nurse."

Ahhhh. Attitude. I've been waiting for you to arrive.

More than a month

Well, this has to be a new record. I blame the "Post it NOW!" culture of iPhones and Facebook on my neglect of this blog, but we all know whose lazy fault this is.

It's been a busy summer. The kids are getting so much older and work is ever present in our lives. We've spent a lot of time at the pool this summer, but we've also had a lot of guests who have been kind enough to visit this house of madness.

So, rather than go into very long, probably boring detail about the awesomeness of summer, here are some pictures. Because, really, I'm not so much great writer now. Use it or lose it. Well, consider me lost.

Pictures of my kids

Because they are so frickin' cute.

Moving on

I'm once again forced to address the concept of this blog. First, I wrote about staying at home with my kids. Then about nursing school. I'm not sure what my Dirty Little Secret has become. Maybe that I work really hard and then come home and and work really hard and then I sleep for at least four hours. No. That's not a secret. I'm constantly reminding my family of this.

Anyway, while I try to come up with the next focus of my life, other than my life, I'll retire last year's secret.

My Dirty Little Secret

It's my family's clothes. I'm headed back to school for a nursing degree through an accelerated bachelor program at Illinois State University. I'm pretty sure taking 62 credit hours in a single year will result in my family wearing dirty clothes. In a dirty house. With dirty faces.