Sometimes it's a bitch......

There are some days that I really hate my job. For the most part, I love what I do. I love guiding new life into this world with my own hands and seeing that miracle over and over again. But there are some days and some women that make it so hard. Today is one of those days. It's three o'clock in the morning - Christmas morning - and I was called in to evaluate a woman who is not due until late January. So her baby is still 4+ weeks early. She had her last baby 4 weeks early and that baby ended up in Norfolk with breathing problems. But she doesn't care about that - she told me as much. She wants the baby out. She's tired of being pregnant. She's tired of the backache. She doesn't really care about the consequences to the baby at this point because she can't look beyond her own discomfort. She isn't willing to tolerate the discomfort for the sake of her baby anymore.

I've interacted with this woman before, when the baby was almost two months early, and she wanted it out then. She was very unpleasant then. She's even more so now. She's nineteen years old. This is her third child.

This is something that I don't understand. Can't relate to. This wanting the baby out no matter what harm might come to it. And then the being so nasty to the person who is walking in the room for the sole purpose of taking care of you and your baby. I was in the room less than a minute and she was in my face, angry and confrontational, as if I'm the cause of her problem. I don't understand it. She's not even in labor. If she was in labor, part of that would be very understandable to me. But this is just.........

Ah, well. It's Christmas. Merry Christmas to me. I haven't been to sleep yet. I've been knitting. I'm counting the hours until I am off call. A week off after that. How glorious that'll be. I came to the realization in February of 2005 that working with human beings is not supposed to be easy. There's really not much easy about it. I was worried about being burned out. But I wasn't burned out. I was tired. And I was discouraged by what I saw day in and day out. Angry women bringing children into an angry world - the combination of those two tends to diminish my hope. It's hard. No one ever said it was supposed to be easy. And it's not. When I remember that, I am much more forgiving of myself and my bouts of frustration. I remain very worried about the world around me, but I give myself permission to say, "This is hard work."

God gave me a job to do. I was called to do this work - because it's more than just a job for me. It's a calling. It's what I was meant to do.

I sometimes wish I'd been called to put together appliances and lawnmowers at Lowe's Hardware - at night when the store is closed. I'd get to use tools. I'd get to tinker. It would be quiet. Frustrations would be few and would probably leave when I walked out the door and headed home at the end of my shift. That's what I plan to do in my next career - put together lawnmowers at Lowe's at night.

This midwife thing isn't all bad. I do witness some beautiful births and have women who actually smile when they come in and actually really do want to do what's best for their babies. I still hear angels sometimes when I catch a little one in my hands. When everything is just so. And there is a reverence in the room - then I can hear the angels ushering the little one from one world into another. I used to hear them often. Not so often anymore, but their songs are a gift to me when I do.

I'm going to crawl into the little bed in the call room now and sleep for a couple of hours. I still have presents to wrap, a sweater to finish, packing to do, and an apple pie to bake today.

Merry Christmas, one and all. God bless us every one.
Peace.

The Longest Night.....

.....is over. The longest night is done. Last night the world turned and the scale tipped. Now the day will slowly push back the night. Little by little, the long cold nights will yield to the sunlight of the day. Days will lenghthen. Spring will come. Darkness will go to the other side of the world to linger. I know that we have many more months of cold nights, but the longest night is over and spring will come again soon.

I spent the longest night of the year in my mother's house. Reason enough to celebrate. Sleeping in the room that was once my sister's, the oldest of the five children; then my room when she went away to college. I was fourteen then. Fourteen and finally I had a room of my own. Now it is my mother's sewing room. Her work and her joy is everywhere in the room. I snuggled down in flannel sheets with my dog curled up on her dog bed at my feet. My son Jacob slept soundly in the room next door. All was well in my world. And the longest night passed soundlessly, peacefully, gratefully.

The longest night is over.

Life is good.

It's amazing to me sometimes the way that music speaks to me - or for me. I listen to songs sometimes and think, "He's right there inside my head!". So it's been with Tom Kimmel's music for me in the past couple of weeks. There are several of his songs that I just keep listening to over and over again. What a gift! Here's a part of one of them:

"The hardest hearts still have a tender part

It's all in how you approach them.

But love and war make self-defense an art

They're seldom all you're hopin'.

Still givin' up on love is really not that smart - it's hard out here in the open.

So when it's breakin', baby, don't lose heart

'Cause hearts are bound to be broken."

-----Tom Kimmel, Hearts are Bound to be Broken

I think he was talking to me.

Peace.

Off to the second job

So I just got done at the big house (the hospital), and I'm off to my second job. You know!? The one where I have to do all of that laundry and dishwashing and scrubbing floors and the like. You know?! The one that pays less than minimum wage!

I have company coming on Saturday. My friend Mary Gordon is coming to do a gig with me. So it's time to stop with the procrastinating and get the house cleaned. I thought keeping a house clean with two kids was tough. It's even harder when you live alone with a dog and three cats! I mean - the cats don't care whether the dishes are done today or tomorrow so why should I stress over them?! It's easy - way too easy - to put off the housework detail. You ought to see my sink!!

Nice thing about having company - besides that it's company and fun - is that it motivates me to get that stuff done. So dishes beware - I'm ready!

No babies today. Worked on one all day, but she's going to come on Dr. John's watch. I got some knitting done. Sat in the quiet of the call room. No clinic today. The satellite is out on the TV so there was none to watch. I actually kind of like that. I don't have TV at home. Well, one channel, full of snow! I joined Netflix - which is absolutely awesome, by the way!! - and spend as much time on their website as I do watching the movies! I've seen some good ones. I've also seen some not so great ones, but that's okay. It's been so fun watching them. Me in the big chair, under my heavy duty, winter sleeping bag!

Gotta go! Dishes are calling.
Peace.
And happy holidays and all that hooey!

Shortcomings........

I have a lot of shortcomings. No, this isn't a confessional - it's my own musings about my shortcomings and the way that I see them weaving threads throughout my life. I think I could write a novel about my shortcomings - they're familiar enough, I think, to many of us. No one is perfect, I understand that, and everyone walking this planet has a basket full of shortcomings that spill out across their lives from time to time (or in my case, on most days, whether I want them to or not!!). So here are a few of mine:

1. I am stubborn as hell. But how would I have gotten through nursing school with a nursing baby, a four-year-old and a night shift nursing assistant job OR graduate school with a first grader, a fifth grader, a full time nursing job, and a husband with a favorite past-time of laying on the couch - without being stubborn as hell!! I was going to get through it - and nobody was going to stop me!! And thank God I did!! I think about all those babies I would have missed guiding into this world with my own hands. What a sorrow that would have been, had I not been stubborn enough to see what it was I wanted and went for it!!

2. I am still somewhat naive. Yeah, I am. I admit it. But it keeps me from being completely bitter about things. It keeps me working at things that I probably should have given up long since. It gives me just enough of a set of blinders that I will still believe "I promise......" in my heart when my head says not to. Being naive fits right in with being stubborn - if I want it, I'll reach out and get it without the slightest fear of how hard it might be or how bad it might hurt if it doesn't work - I will just believe. I am not near as naive as I used to be, though. And that's brought about the next shortcoming----

3. I am jaded in many ways. Particularly when it comes to relationships between men and women, or just when it comes to men in general. But I am not completely jaded. I still try sometimes, though not as long and hard as I used. I used to feel completely terrible about being jaded - guilty as hell, in fact. Like I had no right to be jaded. I have come to realize, though, that I have good damn reason to be jaded!! (If you'd like to hear some of the stories....) and that part of that jaded-ness serves to protect me. Pushes me to listen to my gut more. I'm bad to not listen to my gut. My gut has never been wrong - so I don't know why I don't listen to it. Maybe it's being naive (or wanting to be naive anyway).

4. I have learned to be solitary and to take care of myself. How would I have ever survived otherwise??!! I would not have. I would have curled up and given in. I would have done so many more things that were wrong for me, self-destructive, damaging. I would have given up on my own dreams! Sometimes, people get frustrated with me because I am so damn self-reliant that I forget that there are other people there, right there, who want to help out. I just go ahead and do it myself. That's not my not wanting the help - truly it is not - it's just force of habit. I just forget.

5. I am a dreamer. OOOOH yeah!! BIG dreamer. But, if I can't dream it, it ain't gonna happen! I dream all of the time. My imagination saves me from loneliness. I love my dreams. And I hold on to those dreams because they are the light at the end of the tunnel; they are the buffer against the day-to-day struggle of my life; they are an inner joy and calm when the whole friggin' world is going crazy! I have lots of dreams. And I don't want to let them go. Some of them will die a natural death, I know. Some of them will stay in my heart for years, even as my brain comes to realize that I will never achieve them. What kind of dreams? I dream about doing mission work in Guatemala and in Africa - medical mission work, where I'm actually doing something that I can do to make a little, bitty, tiny difference in the suffering in the world beyond the suffering I see everyday here on the Eastern Shore. I dream about walking across the country of England. I dream about going back to Ireland. About seeing Italy. About making another record. About holding my own grandchild, wet and new to the world.

6. I am terrible at relationships. Not with friends. At the male-female kind of relationship. And not male-female friendship!! I've got good, solid friendships with men! I am just terrible at the other kind. That's a hard thing to accept about one's self. But I am honest in this one. I'm not good at them. I want to be in control. I want to come and go. I want to hold on to myself and give myself away at the same time - which just can't be done!! It just doesn't work that way. But, by god!!, I'll try it every time. It's like beating my head against the wall! I keep trying it. Because I'm so damned stubborn! Because I'm naive enough to believe that it can happen. Because I'm jaded enough to believe (with all of myself!!) that losing oneself in a relationship is about as unhealthy a thing to do as one can do. Because I am a dreamer! Because I don't want to let go of my dreams. But also because I dream sometimes about finding that person - that one person I've dreamed about all my life - who will see me and say, "wow! she's just like me". Who will let me go and welcome me back. Who will talk about his own dreams with a glow that comes just from having them!! Who will think that mission work in Guatemala is important enough that he'd be behind it, 100%, even though it meant my going away and coming back again, who would cherish me just like I am, shortcomings and all, who would take what I have to offer and hold it dear!! And love me for it!

7. As a final shortcoming (and believe me, I have many many more - but I can only handle some many of them at a time!!), I ADORE my children!! No, it's not really a shortcoming. Just something that some folks don't understand. I think my kids are two of the finest people I have ever known. I see them and I think they are so beautiful!! I talk to them and I wonder how in the hell they got to be so smart!! Both of them are brilliant!! (They really are!! Their minds are amazing!) Maybe, someone might misconstrue my love for my kids as an inability to let go. But it isn't that. Hell, I could have gotten a job in Chapel Hill and lived right there where Jacob was in college. And might have considered it, too, if I hadn't seen the wisdom in "letting go". I came here to the Eastern Shore, by myself, instead. I don't want to ever go a long time without being with them. I don't want to NOT talk to them every chance I get, every day if possible! I don't want to NOT be close to them - very close now as one adult to another and less mother-son. It's not because I can't let go. It's because they are wonderful people. And they add so much to my life. Period. That's it. They are not just my sons - they are very cool people. Buena gente, as they'd say in Spanish. And all of us need good people in our lives.

Peace.

This is how I feel

This is how I feel today!! Pretty much felt like this yesterday, too. Sometimes the stress of it can get to you. Sometimes it gets to the people around you and then it gets to you through them and they really get on your nerves because you really got on their nerves and all you were doing was being. Or they might chew your ass out and leave you feeling like it's best not to sit down for awhile. Yeah, that's it! That's how I feel. Like it's best if I don't sit down for awhile. Mostly, though, I'd just like to scream. Really loud. One of those primordal screams that comes from the root of a person. Yeah, that's it. A really really loud scream.

Blame It on the Winter

The geese fly toward the summer and I watch them in their flight.

I wish that I could join them and sail off in the night.

Just fly across this winter and leave the cold behind

And wake up in the mornin' and feel a warmth inside.

And I know you'd like to hold me and make me want to stay

But what you might be takin', lord I just can't give away.

If you're takin' all my secrets, I might not have enough

And this old man winter has got me tired of bein' tough.

There's a freeze down in Texas.

There's snow in Idaho.

It's rainin' in Kentucky, lord lord

And it's stormin' in my soul.

For me, it don't come easy - this learnin' to let go

This sharin' all my secrets with a man I hardly know.

It leaves so many questions, and, for me, there is no doubt

That love has been the mystery I just can't figure out.

And I know you find no reason in all I do and say

Just blame it on the winter - this need to sail away.

But if you want my thunder, you'll have to ride this storm

If you want me in the winter, oh babe, you'll have to keep me warm.

There's a freeze down in Texas.

There's snow in Idaho.

It's rainin' in Kentucky, lord lord

And it's stormin' in my soul.

-----Yours truly, Blame It on the Winter

A picture from the place that I think of as home, always will. I think that everyone should visit the mountains of North Carolina sometime in their life time. The mountains of North Carolina are as beautiful as any place I've ever seen. I'm not a world traveller by any means, but I have been to many beautiful places. None more beautiful than my own NC mountains. (Ireland is right up there with the North Carolina mountains, especially the Great Blasket Island. I'll post a picture from there some time, if I can ever get my computer to get pictures from photo CDs). (Jody and Bates' place on the mountain in West Virginia is right up there with the North Carolina mountains in beauty. Wilder. More breath-taking in a lot of ways, though Linville Gorge still takes my breath away thirty years after the first time I saw it).

It is a good thing to love one's home. However that gets defined in your own mind. I love North Carolina. I love my mother's house and the way it smells and the way it feels when I walk into the kitchen - the same kitchen I've known since I was nine. I love old Home Place here in Virginia, despite its lack of heat!! There's something about the place that suits me and makes me feel at home there. Franktown UMC feels like a home to me, too. Just feels warm and comforting when I walk through the door there.

When people ask me where my home is, though, as most people will do. "Where are you from?" Think about how often you've asked that or have been asked that. I always say, "I'm from western North Carolina. I grew up in Raleigh, but I lived in western North Carolina for thirty years." That's how I answer that question.

So this is a picture from western North Carolina. It's from Mount Jefferson in Ashe County. Ashe County is where I lived when my children were born and when they were small. Ashe County is their home, too, though Morganton is the place Jacob calls home.

Gotta go catch another baby!
Enjoy the picture!

I decided not to fight with Michelle for George's affection. She's skinnier than me, funnier, younger and sexier. George needs a woman with her classiness! Pero, yo hablo espanol. Antonio es el hombre para mi!! O la la!

Radio Play......

I got an email from the fellow who produced my CD, Just the Way My Mama Made Me. He received it from a woman in the Catskills who played three of my songs as part of her radio show this morning. Pretty darn cool!! I am thrilled!

Today would have been my grandmother's 97th birthday. She was 84 when she fell down her basement stairs and died from an internal injury. I still miss her most every day. And I know my brothers and sisters and parents do, too. She was such a beautiful woman - from the inside, the most beautiful kind of beautiful. She sure did love me!! I never had any doubt about that. She had this wonderful gift of being able to make people feel absolutely and completely special! She loved my freckles.

I've delivered one baby already today in her honor, and there are three more on the way.

She'd be proud!
Peace.

Busy hands

It's 4:30 in the morning. I'm working. I've been working since yesterday morning. I got to go home for a couple of hours and sleep, but, just about the time I was really warm and comfortable and sleeping sound..... yeah, you guessed it! Babies on the way. I have a young woman in early labor; another being induced, as I write, for high blood pressure; and a third that will be induced when the sun comes up. It's going to be a busy weekend. I had a feeling it would be. I did remember to bring my knitting with me to the hospital! So I can knit while I wait for these babies to make their appearances!

I helped with a fundraising dinner at my church yesterday evening. It was a fun experience. It felt good to be a part of the work! We're raising money to help fund a mission trip in May to Russia. I'm one of the folks who will benefit from the fundraisers, as I'm on the mission team, so I was very glad to put myself to work for the cause! I made a HUGE amount of spaghetti sauce this week, and we made lasagna for the dinner. It was great! And all of the folks that came to the dinner seemed to be pleased with their dinner.

I used to watch my grandmother working away at things, and she was always so happy when she was busy. She always had busy hands. She had beautiful hands - and she passed those hands down to my mom - and she passed them down to me. I look at my hands and see my mom's hands. I am proud of that.

My back sure is tired though! So I guess I'd better go get some sleep while I can. Every little bit of sleep will help as this day gets going. I'm hoping maybe I'll have the chance somewhere along the day to go down to Exmore and get some chicken soup from the Mexican restaurant (it is sooooo good!) or some wonton soup and a couple of egg rolls from the Chinese place. I'm craving both!

Hope everybody has a pretty day. Peace to you.

I'll be the first to admit........

I am ADDICTED!! I can sit for hours and just knit, purl, knit, purl, turn, increase, decrease, knitknitknitknitknit! My fingers are sore from knitting so much. My wrists ache and my neck is stiff! But I just can't stop. I think I need some therapy!!

Hey!! Wait a minute!! This IS my therapy!

For those of you non-knitters out there, try it! You might just like it, too! For all the quilters, sewers, carvers, tinkerers, painters, and the like - I understand! This creating with your hands is a wonderful thing. And I think to myself, too, that I even get to make something that's going to keep somebody I love warm!! That's pretty darn cool!

So I'm on the second sleeve of the first of four sweaters, plus I have a shawl that's almost done and a blanket that's just gotten started (that's just for the Christmas rush!). Then I'm on to another couple of sweaters, a felted bag (I need my mom to explain some of the directions to me!), and an Irish poncho.

I think I'll be knitting well into warm weather! Knit 1, purl 1, knit 2, purl 2. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven......... that's the cadence of my life these days.

Could be much worse, ya know!? I could be addicted to cocaine! Or meth! Or heroin!

Nope! It's knitting!

Peace to ya!

Secondhand Lions

I went to Jody and Bates' house last night for my banjo lesson. We had spaghetti for dinner and they sipped some wine while I enjoyed a couple of Fosters. I had to relearn "Soldier's Joy" because the song in its entirety had completely gone out of my head. I remembered parts of it, but couldn't remember how to put them all together. This middle-age thing can really be a drag sometimes. I had a wonderful time - I always do have a wonderful time with them! And I think I've got "Soldier's Joy" incorportated into my fingers now. Bates played it into a tape recorder for me, so I can listen to it when I practice if it seems to be lost out in the ozone of my befuddled brain somewhere!

What a great cure that was for the blues that have been following me around for the past three or four days! I could feel my spirit lifting even as I pulled up in their driveway. The blue that followed me back home seems much more disappointed to be parting company with me than I am with it!! I'm ready to just yell, "OUT! OUT! Damn it!". Wish it were that easy.

This is a hard time of year for me. So if the posts tend to fall a little bit to the blue side or the melancholy, bear with me - this too shall pass. It's the time of year. It's the winter and the long hours of darkness. It's the cold that doesn't seem to ever leave my bones! Lordy mercy, I am such a wimp when it comes to cold!! And just think!! I used to live in an old mountain house with no insulation and no heat but for the wood stove - where the pipes froze every winter and the only spot of warmth in the whole house was right beside the woodstove. We used to could see the gusts of cold air come through the room. I mean actually SEE them! And I was not ever so cold as I am these days. Guess that's what comes with age and thyroid disease!!

BRRRR! It was cold at my house this morning! One good thing that comes from the cold mornings at my house? When I do finally manage to drag my butt out of my bed (which is like a big, warm nest), I tend to move very fast!! I'm out of there in 20 minutes or so, just so that I can get in the car and get the car down the road so that the heater will come on!!

After my lesson last night, when I got home, I got under my winter sleeping bag in the my big chair, and watched "Secondhand Lions". It is a delightful film - sweet, funny, touching. I love Robert Duvall. He's a fine actor and seems to have gotten better and better over the years. I remember seeing him in "To Kill a Mockingbird". He was just a young man then. If you haven't seen "Secondhand Lions", I recommend it highly. One of those heartwarmers.

Back to work. Peace!

Catching up.....

I haven't been able to post anything for several days now. Between my poor lame computer at home (with dial up!) and blocks on computers at work (and they come and go, those blocks do - it's the strangest thing. Maybe blog posting is only allowed on Tuesdays and Thursdays), I haven't been able to write anything since last week.

I am definitely a mammal. My whole being has slowed down to a crawl. I want to sleep. I want to eat lots of chocolate, french fries, butter, bread, pasta, fattening stuff and then just curl up in a warm cave somewhere and sleep until the sun is warm again and the wind has died down. Unfortunately, I don't think my boss would look favorably on a request to take a leave of absence for the winter to hibernate!

So I've been hibernating in other ways. Just staying home, staying in, being quiet, listening to Windham Hill's Winter Solstice CD (the first Winter Solstice is the best), listening to books on tape, knitting, knitting, knitting. I'm getting carpal tunnel syndrome from all the knitting. Ah, but there is such great peace in it. I count while I knit. Pretty much mindless counting most of the time as it has little to do with the knitting project itself. It's just counting. I used to always count when I went up and down stairs (still do sometimes when I'm stressed). I'd count the steps off in series of five and try to land on a five (which meant sometimes that you had to step on a step twice, or you might have to skip a step). Do other people do little quirky, strange things like that?

Had a day of sadness yesterday. Just kind of a "in-the-bone" sadness. Went to bed with it last night and left it there this morning. That sadness wanted me to stay there in bed all day, but there is work to be done, so I left that sadness sleeping there, hoping she'd decide to stay there rather than seek me out for a second day. Sadness has been one of my companions since I was about thirteen or so. She never seems to be far away, though she visits me less frequently and doesn't stay as long these days. She doesn't make me crazy like she used to. She just sits in my room and is just there. I don't devil her anymore and try to force her out - she leaves on her own accord, in her own good time. I just let her be. She comes and goes. I've come to terms with her.

I saw a beautiful bird this morning, out at the feeders. I don't know what kind of bird he was, but he was so beautiful with stripes of blue and white and navy. And he was singing. I could hear him through the window. The wind was roaring and all the bird feeders were swinging and swaying back and forth - and there was that little bird, with all his beautiful feathers, singing his heart out. "For the sake of the song" my friend Freddy calls that.

Best get to work. I had many profound things to say today, but perimenopause seems to have made my brain a little crooked!! I'll remember them later, I'm sure. Will let you know if I do!
Peace.

How in the world can a person wade through all of the hooplah and baloney to get to the bottom of this whole mess? He says - she says- they say - they do - they don't - I will - I won't. Good grief!! No wonder the every day American is sick of it and just says "to hell with it!".

Any suggestions where I might find some good, solid, HONEST, easy to read information so that I might truly make an informed decision when I vote?

I could use the help! I want to vote. I want to vote for the candidate with whom I feel I can align myself without compromising the things I believe in. I don't even know what most of them believe because they're too busy speaking in tongues.

Thanksgiving........

I had a wonderful Thanksgiving. One of the best I can remember in recent years. I spent time with my parents, my kids, my brothers and sisters, and my nieces and nephews. I got filled up with family love - enough to hold me over until Christmas. I even got to spend time with Bobbi and Steve, two of my closest friends.

And I got hugs - lots of hugs. I got to be the kid, being hugged and comforted by her mom. I got to be the mom, hugging and comforting her sons. I sure do believe what they say about hugs - that they make you healthier and stronger, less prone to illness and disease, happier and more peaceful. I can feel all of that coursing through my body today as I return to work.

I love my family. I love Thanksgiving. And I love hugs.

Hope all of you had a great Thanksgiving, too. Peace always.

Bubbles

I went to a wedding celebration a couple of weeks ago. The daughter of one of my oldest and closest friends ran off and got married back in October, and the celebration was like a reception. After everyone had gone, I was helping them clean up the old train station where the party was held. They had all of this stuff they were going to throw away and the pack rat in me just couldn't stand it!! I now have ten or more votive candleholders, two bags full of decorative fall gourds, a whole bag full of plastic leaves in fall colors, and ten or more little bottles of bubble soap.

I went out in the yard on Sunday and blew bubbles all over the yard for a half hour or so. It was so cool. It was like being a little kid again! I found myself trying to work on my bubble-blowing technique to get longer or bigger bubbles. And Pete-the-crippled-cat and I found a new game to play. "Catch the bubble" before it disappears. Pete was quite fascintated with the game for awhile, then I think he actually got down right p-0'd because the bubbles kept disappearing. He'd dig in the grass where the bubble had been then look at me with a very intense, if-looks-could-kill kind of glare, accusing me of taking the bubble from him! It was a lot of fun, for me anyway. Like I said, it was like being a kid again. Playing in the yard, talking to the cat or the dog or just myself, depending on who felt like listening. Humming little songs. Pretending I was in a big bubble-blowing contest and one of the finalists.

Do it sometime. Venture back. I don't think it's so much regression as is it a half hour of freedom from adulthood and all its miseries. Ah, what a joy! Thirty minutes of childhood-revisited, the biggest pressure being trying to make the bubble soap last. I have ten or more little bottles. Enough to last a long time. THAT makes me smile!

Ciao!

Being different.....

I'm different. I know that I'm different. I've always been different. I think I realized it sometime back in junior high school. I was just one step off from everybody else. There have been so many times in my life, especially in my adult life, that people have said to me, "You're different from anybody else I've ever known." I was (am) a different kind of mom. I am a different sort of midwife - kind of a strange half-breed between art and science. I walk just a little bit out of step. I'm different from my brothers and my sisters, but yet strangely the same given our shared genetics and histories. I'm very different from my mom, though I look so much like her and our voices are the same, our handwriting is the same, our way of loving the world is the same. I am very different from the folks here on the Eastern Shore.

I remember so many times that I've tried not to be different. Lord, what a mess I was in high school in all my attempts to NOT be different. My choices, so much of the time, of people to emulate, to try to fit in and be the same, were not always the best of choices. In high school, I wore ugly Earth shoes but make-up, too, all painted on my face. I skipped school and shop-lifted. I smoked and drank and partied with the kids that partied hard. I wanted to belong. I did things that I knew weren't right for me, even things that I didn't like to do, just to find some end to that "feeling different" kind of feeling.

Sometime about the time that I went to college, I stopped a lot of that. I started learning to accept the fact that I was different from everybody else. That my brain worked in a different sort of way. I cried when other people were happy and laughing. I stopped crying and learned to sing sad songs instead. I walked my own path. I am different. And I know that I am different.

But I am a good person. I am a good mom, a good friend, a good midwife. I am one of God's wonderous creations.

I went by my friends' Jody and Bates' house this evening on my way home from seeing patients at the Health Department. Bates is my banjo teacher. They are good friends to me. I love being around them because they help me feel connected. Connected to something that I can't even verbalize - just connected. The folks in my Monday night Bible Study help me feel that way, too - connected. We are pulled together and connected to one another by a universal need to reach out and find that. For people like me, who feel different and have always felt different, those kind of connections are a gift beyond measure. I love and need those connections in my life. They help me understand that, while I'm solitary, I'm not alone. That I don't have to fear loneliness. They are the answer to it. They stand it down and hold me up. They look at me and smile at me and laugh with me at all my different-ness, as though it is a blessing and not something to try to hide, not something to try to change out of myself, but something to spread out in front of others and offer it up as a gift. The gift that is me - the person the my parents created with all of their love and care.

Thanks to Jody and Bates for loving my different-ness in spite of itself.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Peace.

Big news from MSNBC

"Contrary to folk wisdom, most laughter is not about humor".

I don't care what they say - last night at the ESO in Belle Haven, Virginia, it was about humor!! Michelle Maclay's show was great!! She is so damn funny! I loved it!! Absolutely loved it!!

Great job, Michelle!! And I especially loved the closer! I'm going to have to get me some Pat Benetar to dance to. Where can I get one of those pink fru-fru things you were wearing?

Will there be preoders for your memoirs? I'm in!

A long sleep.....

I had one of those long, heavy, bordering-on-unconsciousness, face-stuck-to-the-pillow, don't-know-where-you-are-when-waking, "oh-my-God!-did-I-miss-the-pager", sleeps last night. I was on call. I rarely sleep like that anyway, but almost never when I'm on call. I've been taking a medicine for a couple of months that seriously intensified my chronic insomniac ways. After six weeks of no good sleep, I called my doc and said "Get me off this!!". I've been on call nine nights in the past 14. I've been up most of the night, most of those call nights, too. And I was up literally all night Friday night. I can feel the exhaustion in my bones, especially in my lower back and hips.

So I guess I was just due to crash and burn. I was out!! The old farmhouse where I live is very very cold!! I have flannel sheets, two quilts, and a down comforter on the bed to keep warm at night (and a hot water bottle!!), so I really do burrow down in there. I woke up this morning, having missed church, missed early rounds at the hospital, and fearful that I'd missed the pager going off (I didn't - yeah!!). All I could say was "holy crapoley, it's 12 o'clock!!??".

I'm hoping that as the medicine continues to wear off, I'll have some more nights sleeping like that. It's been a long time since I have!! It felt good!

I'm already ready for a nap!!

Peace.

Turkeys Can Run

But they cannot hide!

Oh, yeah!! I'm ready. Less than one week until Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday - by far!! Even though we eat turkey and stuffing and all that good stuff at Christmas, I love Thanksgiving the best. I love what it's about!

So to Mom and Dad, Daniel and Jacob, Jay, Karen, Emily, and Eric and all the nieces and nephews - see you in five days! Can't wait to see all of you and to eat some turkey!!

Pete

I have this orange tabby cat named Pete. Pete just showed up at the Thursday night bluegrass jam last October, about the same time I did. He was just a little ball of fur then. In January, the jam's host, Bill, asked me if I would adopt Pete. Bill already had three cats, and Pete was turning into somewhat of a trouble-maker. I agreed to adopt him but only after he had been neutered. I have two other cats and didn't want to bring Mr. Trouble home to them without some sort of attempt to simmer him down a bit. Before he could be fixed, though, he got hit by a truck. One of Bill's neighbors witnessed the accident and said that Pete got kind of "rolled". He was paralyzed from just behind his front legs down. He was dragging his whole lower body if he moved at all. It was horrible! I put him in a box and brought him home.

He was so pitiful in that first couple of days. He just laid on a blanket in my bathroom and would cry so mournfully. He didn't eat much, and he didn't drink much, and he didn't pee or poop, either. He started doing this funky thing with his head, kind of shaking it back and forth. I was afraid he had a brain injury, too, and was going to go into kidney failure or cerebral edema (or both) and die a slow, painful death. It was a terrible thing to witness. So I decided he probably should be taken to the vet and put to sleep. It killed me. I didn't want to do that to the poor little guy, but I didn't want him to agonize for days either and then die anyway. Bill took him to the vet for me. I couldn't do it.

The vet said it sure did look like he had a broken back and she would need to put him to sleep, but she would xray just to be sure and let Bill know. Several days went by and still no word. We called to see if they'd put him to sleep, assuming that they probably had. "Oh, no!", they said, "Mr. Rogers is back in the back in a crate and is doing fine. He's eating and drinking and peeing. Dr. Paula is going to rehabilitate him and find him a new home." (Mr. Rogers is the name they'd given him - yuck - Pete would be so insulted if he knew! There's nothing at all Mr. Rogers-ish about Pete!!). I didn't want Pete to go to a new home!! They thought I didn't want him. I just didn't want him to suffer a slow and painful death.

So I went and got him and brought him home for a second time. Dr. Paula said that in six months, his recovery would be as good as it gets. But she doesn't know Pete!! It's been nine months now and he continues to make progress every week. He started out dragging everything behind him. I live in a big old farmhouse with hardwood floors so he learned to scoot and slide and actually slides like lightening when he's after something. It's hilarious to see! And he is so fast! He wasn't able to go up or down the stairs, and he wasn't able to even scratch his own ears (poor guy!). I'd see him sitting there, leaning his head to one side or the other and absolutely willing, without success, those back legs to do their job!! I'd pick him up and scratch away for him. I think doing that favor for him (many, many times) bonded us for life!

Now, even though he looks kind of funny, he's getting around really well. He's a testament to determination, that cat is. He can now get up and down the stairs (he started out doing a full body press on each step, now he kind of twist and lifts). He can get on and off the soft furniture in the house (if he can dig his claws into it, he can get up on it! but you got to watch him because he'll sneak up on you and do it to you, digging his claws into your leg so that he can get in your lap). His front claws go into the mattress (couch, chair, whatever), he kind of swings free for a second and then drags himself up. He will not be denied if he has any say in the matter! Outside, he walks (more like twists) in a kind of crab-like motion, but he's gotten very fast out there. I'm no so worried about his safety anymore. Inside, he still prefers to slide. One of his back legs kind of sticks out straight, toward his front paw, and the other kind of leans in toward his body, still a bit crumpled and atrophied. His back paws are still pretty much curled up, but, just last month, while I was watching, he started doing that tilting thing with his head again, and - low and behold!! up came his back foot to his chin and he was making that foot work - scratching away!! Amazing.

He can't climb trees (hence the reason my cat Buster has now become known as the cat that lives in the tree - he's terrified of Pete!!). He can't jump up onto your lap or onto the table or onto the counters. When he jumps off the bed, he still makes a terrible thud. But he was paralyzed!! He had one paw on the threshold of death!! He was a goner!

Now he rules the neighborhood here at the farm, such as it is. I love him. He's an inspiration. He's also a pain in the ass, but I love him just the same.

Peace.

Therapy

A friend of mine asked me the other day if my blog was "therapy". She said she was thinking about going for therapy herself. I don't know any therapists in her area but thought I might make some contacts and see if I could get some good recommendations for her.

Suzanne - I've found a great therapist. She said she'd be willing to see you and work with you free-of-charge. Just come on up to Virginia for a visit. She told me to tell you also that she hopes to be rid of her fleas by the time you come to vist!

I am more homesick now than I've ever been in my entire life - even if you count that one day when I was in Guatemala when I was so homesick I'd've gotten on a plane that very day if I could have. I'm more homesick than that. I miss the way Table Rock looks against the deep blue sky of winter. I miss the way the air smells and the way the people talk. I miss the drive out the winding road to the house I used to own. I miss my kids.

I miss my home.

Funny how homesick you can get when you're heartsick. And vice versa, too, I guess.

To my friend, I wish you happiness and peace in your own home and in all ways, always. I think that's part of what love is.

Cats rule the world!

These are my sons. Jacob and Daniel.

My soul mates. Two of my best friends.

And very cool people.

If I had to say there was anything that I loved more than being a folksinger or being a midwife, in all honesty, I'd say I've loved being their mom the most.

Peace. We all need it. Despite mean people or people doing mean things, the world is still full of good people. My sons are two of them. Daniel and Jacob. If you needed help, they'd be there.

In the news.....

Did you hear about the woman's body they found in the Chesapeake Bay? Evidently, it had washed up onto a sand bar. Grisly, horrible event! They have no idea who she is, but they know she was either a nurse or a midwife. It was amazing that they figured that much out. Upon investigation, they deduced that she was a nurse or a midwife because her bladder was full, her stomach was empty, and her butt was chewed off!

Tee hee! Had you going, didn't I?

Sudoku

Who in the world invented Sudoku anyway? I'm addicted, I admit it! So is my sister, Karen. It provides an incredible amount of distraction - AND it's one of the easiest ways to procrastinate on doing chores without guilt (hey! I'm warding off dementia, ya know!).

The human mind is incredible. People figure out all sorts of amazing things! It boggles my mind to think about them - that chicken is edible once you remove the feathers, microwaves, music, math!! Did you know that after the 20th week of pregnancy the measurement in centimeters from a woman's pubic bone to the top of the uterus is roughly equivalent to how far along she is in weeks of pregnancy? Who worked that one out? What made them think of it?! And all those medicines?! We started out making willow bark tea to relieve pain and to reduce fever - now we have antibiotics, acteminophen, and ibuprofen!! And (I just learned this yesterday), if you cover the soles of your feet with Vicks Vapor Rub and put on socks before you go to bed when you have a cold - it'll keep you from coughing all night!! It's true! It's been studied and proven. Who contemplated and tested that one?!

Amazing.

One thing I want to know? Why does food you warm up on the stove stay warmer longer than food you warm up in the microwave?

Now I've got to stop procrastinating long enough to do the dishes, do some laundry, and fill up the kerosene heater. Then I get to do another Sudoku!

Things you get used to

There are things you get used to, don't even think about, until you realize they are missing from your life. Simple things - small gifts of daily existence that give you little pieces of happiness. Like the light on the back of the house that shines a little light into the dark of the back yard and makes it not seem so scary or lonely when you come home late at night. Like the sound of your child's beat-up jalopy pulling up in the driveway, late for dinner again but home safe and sound. Like the warm breeze of a summer morning sailing across the threshold when you open the door in the morning to step out onto the porch and sip hot coffee. Stopping by your parents' house at just the right time to have lunch, dinner, or coffee. Calling your best friend when she's driving home from work and asking, "Whatcha' doin'?" and hearing (just like you expected), "Coming to your house?", even though she's almost home.

I've been thinking about all those things today. I miss them, sometimes so much I feel like I could cry, but, in the end, I am so grateful to have all those little things stored inside my heart. That is happiness all by itself. I am happy today. And full of gratitude for those little things. Gratitude for all those little things absolutely softens the disappointments over the big things that didn't work out or never showed up or that I created for myself. Gratitude is a gift. I say "Thank you". And I am blessed.

Now, time to go put a new light bulb in the light at the back of the house.

More peace to ya!

I stand corrected...

Technically, I only delivered three babies today. Dr. John delivered the fourth by cesarean section. I took care of her all night but that the little one wasn't going to be coaxed out in the traditional method so the alternative route was selected. She was a wee little thing, too. It's funny how sometimes the little ones are the ones that get stuck. So five babies for the practice this weekend - one by cesarean. That's a twenty percent c-section rate - lower than the national average anyway!!

Tomorrow, after Bible Study, I think I shall have a Guiness. I know that those two thoughts there are inconsistent, but I'm in the sparkly place and a Guiness sounds really good just about now. Less than 24 hours left on call!! I've almost made it.

My son Jacob is a North Carolina Teaching Fellow in his second year at UNC-Chapel Hill. He found out this week that he got the summer teaching fellow trip to Ireland!! Another good reason to celebrate with a Guiness.

Nap time!!

My day so far

I've delivered four babies today. Two boys, two girls. One black, one white, two hispanic. All are doing fine and their moms are, too. I've been at the hospital for most of the past thirty hours (hey!! my charts are done!!). I've had little more than three hours of very interrupted sleep. I'm worn out but strangely happy. My friend Bobbi and I used to call this "being in the sparkly place". A strange mixture of sleep deprivation, elation, relief, adrenaline, and gratitude. After twenty years of seeing babies come into this world and twelve years of catching them myself, I am still amazed by each one. That's the miracle of the miracle. God is great, life is good.

And I need some sleep!

Peace.

I love this!

Sometimes it feels like I'm in deep shit the majority of the time! I sure hope I look like I know what I'm doing.

Fox in the hounds........

Sounds like a song to me!

Doing charts

I've been working on charts all afternoon. I hate doing charts. Mostly, it's the dictation I hate. So I'm bad about procrastinating and letting the charts build up in my box. Then I get red slips from the hospital. And they're obviously red slips, so that anybody that sees my box at the office knows that I'm in trouble with my charts again. One of the things about nursing - as with any job I guess - if not for the paperwork, it might be great!

So as I was working on charts I was thinking about relationships. (yes, I do multitask, thank you for noticing). I was thinking mostly about why relationships are so damn hard for some of us and so easy for others. I told a friend of mine once that I was beginning to really believe that people who make relationships look easy are pretending! And I know my grandmother would have admitted, despite her always-positive attitude, that her very long marriage to my grandfather was not easy. I hang out with my parents (54 years married and counting!) and feel better, feel reassured that it isn't always easy. I'm sure that sounds weird - that I would feel reassured, but I do. It helps me believe that, even if it's hard, it can be good and it can last a long, long time.

Relationships (the intimate kind) are very difficult for me. I don't think it was always like that, but then again..... well, maybe it was. It's hard to remember that far back. My adolescence was such a storm anyway!! Seems that, for a good part of my life, I would get in a relationship and, in no time at all, I would lose myself. Just kind of give up essential parts to try to be "pleasing". Next thing I'd know, I would hardly recognize myself anymore. I stayed out of relationships for a long time, until I felt strong enough and comfortable enough in my own skin to not get lost. I have thought that standing my ground and keeping true myself was the best thing to do.

But then..... words like "bitchy" and "self-centered" and "selfish" come around. And I wonder - "damn! am I really a bitch? am I really self-centered? (I am selfish sometimes - aren't we all? I think that is human nature. If you don't believe me, go to a preschool and watch two-year-olds with their toys!) Or am I just taking care of myself? Am I taking care of myself or am I being stubborn? Am I trying to hold my own or am I missing out on something other people have that I don't have because I'm taking care of myself? Are there some of us that are just meant to be solitary?! Is it not possible for another person to love you and let you have the freedom to be who you are?! Did Lucy secretly love Charlie Brown and the whole Schroder thing was just a show?! (Just kidding, we all know she loves Schroder and only Schroder and always will - him and his little piano).

I hate those kind of questions. Who knows the right answer? Who knows how much is the right amount to give without giving up essential parts of yourself? How do you know when to stop? I haven't found that place in the middle yet. And I haven't found a man who is patient enough to wait it out and let me flounder through the process.

I'd like to just go about it a little tiny bit at a time, ya know? Give a little - wait; give a little more, wait again. Seems like that way, the place where you need to stop giving up yourself would be easier to find. Seems like I'm either not giving enough or I'm giving it all.

So I divided all the charts in my box in half, so the task to get them done would not be so overwhelming. They're half done now. The other half tomorrow. Tomorrow, while I'm doing charts, I think I'll try to get my mind to reflect on this: who the hell thought of Sudoku and what made them do it?!

Later.

Milk and honey

And this is the other thing I do.

I've been playing music a lot longer than I've been catching babies.

Music saved my life, continues to save my life, and is second only behind love and faith for what it does for my soul.

I'm glad I don't have to count on it paying my bills, though. I'd be eating Oodles of Noodles and cheap macaroni and cheese. I'm happy to play when I can and catch babies otherwise.

The first thing I remember about myself - the very first memory I have - is me singing to myself in the dark.

The Baby Catcher

So this is me, doing what I do.

I love what I do most of the time.

It's hard work.

And like any job, it's got its drawbacks.

But, if I was ever meant to do anything,

this is it.

So I'm doing it.

Now I am thankful for every word!

This is a print by Brian Andreas. His work is just awesome!

I love you, Mom.

First tries

I've had such a great time reading my friend Michelle's blog that I thought, "Hey! what the hell? I'll give it a try." So here I am, making the first post. Any thoughts? Way too many, to tell you the truth. Seems like my head is always going - full blast - no breaks. Not even when I'm sleeping - which I don't do much with my head going so hard. I'd like to think it's perimenopause, but it seems like I've been like that for almost as long as I can remember. Used to lie awake at night and listen to my sister breathing, sucking her thumb, and rubbing the edge of the blanket between her fingers. When I was a teenager, I lived on two or three hours of sleep a night.

I'm well trained to be a midwife. Which is what I do. Part of my definition. Will have many more thoughts to come. Right now, I need to go do my job.

Peace.