So I’ve begun my Masters program. The first class is like an intro to becoming a graduate student. A lot about mindfulness and being present. I kind of like it. It reminds you to stop and take in what is really going on. I’ve been noticing I do that especially at work when one of my students needs extra care and it is a serious situation. I project a sense of calmness but inside I’m urgently trying to stay in the moment and appreciate what is going on and what is my next step?

I need to be more mindful at home. Especially as my children just keep getting older. I’ve said in the past that grammar school seems to take forever (my gosh it really does…). Then there’s junior high in which 6 and 7 grade are pretty slow until grade 8 hits and the next thing you know you’re paying “senior dues” for a yearbook and cap and gown. Then; high school which IMO passes at the speed of light. Samantha is a sophomore. Her freshman year was spent virtually and I was so happy for her when it was announced that the schools here would be in person. These kids need each other! To meet one another and learn about themselves through their new friends and sports or extracurricular groups. I’m so glad Samantha had taken to joining sports teams. She’s met a lot of people and has made friends, it was truly a relief to me. When she was attending school virtually there wasn’t any interaction with the other students. Not good.

So here we are with Samantha having only 2 more years left of high school. Told you it goes fast. I want to be present in the lives of all my kids. Thomas’ childhood, adolescence and teen years were broken up by violent behavior, hospitalizations, residential school period of time living home with us and now he resides in a group home. Not what I wanted for my son. When he was about 14 years old and things were going smooth I pictured him living with us while attending a day program and awaiting placement in a group home. I never imagined we would be living this life with him the way we are. It’s not a bad part of my life, him being in a group home, it just is what it is. God always had his own plan for Thomas’ life. While I prayed for guidance the Lord led the way.

With my girls I enjoy being a part of their life and the closeness we have. Yesterday while Samatha was at a wrestling tournament in the Bronx she texted me, “Mom” twice. I answered yes what’s up? She texted back, nothing I just miss you. I was so so happy to read that and texted back that I missed her too. You see Samantha’s a tough one. I swear God knew I fervently wanted a fourth child 17 years ago; and he certainly did give me a fourth, but on His terms. And that’s ok. Samantha is nothing like our older 2 girls. She is sometimes like an only child and sometimes a young person that I’m still discovering what makes her tick. That’s cool though. It keeps things interesting that I know. I will now stop procrastinating doing my school work and get back to it.

It’s the day my dad passed from this world to be with The Lord. A quote from Billy Graham always comforts me when I think of daddy passing away. “Your last breath on earth is immediately followed by your first breath in heaven.” I love those words. At daddy’s wake I remember saying that I felt as if my dad was with us one minute then in the next he crossed over to a place we couldn’t go…yet. But that he was still with us spiritually, like his soul didn’t leave us just yet. I don’t feel like that anymore. I believe he’s watching over us but I’m not one that feels his presence next to me. I know there is no timeline for grieving but I never thought I would still cry when I think of him, talk about him or write about him after 4 years have passed.

There’s so much about my dad I wish the world knew. How funny he was, how he beat cancer only to have it rear its ugly bead again; and when it did how hard he fought until he couldn’t fight anymore. I don’t know if I’m like my dad. I take after him in some physical ways, we have the same skin complex too, we both tan in the sun. But looks wise I take more after my mom. I hope I’ve inherited his inner strength and ability to see past peoples bullshit. Daddy was good at that. He was also good at calling someone out. I really miss him. I miss laughing with him and listening about how “frugal “ his mom was, and that’s why I’m so “frugal” aka shopping the thrift stores. He loved to hear about my finds.

So it’s 4 years. Some days it feels longer and some days I see him sitting at my dining room table laughing at my cat listening to me talk about my kids. He was always there for us.

I

When Thomas was 5- 6 months old the pediatrician practice we used finally noticed that Thomas has a condition called torticollis, which is a shortening of the muscle that controls how you turn your head from one side to another. Thomas only turned his head to the right when he was sleeping which resulted in his head being terribly misshaped. His head was flattened in the back and was beginning to bulge in the front/forehead. One of the pediatricians in the practice took one look at him and the shit hit the fan. She was freaked out and combed his chart with a fine tooth comb and let the other partitioners have it. I felt somewhat vindicated because I was telling them this all along and that he was slow to meet his milestones but I was blown off by just about everyone.

This was the true beginning of our journey with Thomas. Thomas was to have skull x-rays, a CT scan and an MRI to rule out other structural abnormalities. Thankfully all were negative at that time. We found a neurologist who didn’t have a 3 month wait for an appointment who diagnosed the torticollis and put a name to what I had been noticing for the past 3 months. This started our time with Early Intervention and Thomas qualified for physical therapy. He also needed a moulding helmet to re-shape his head. For that we were recommended the head of neurosurgery at NYU. He prescribed the helmet. We then had to go to the guy who would actually make the helmet. They covered Thomas’ head with plaster of Paris, waited for it to become hard and then cut the mould off his head with a saw while Thomas sat on my lap. It was just him and me. I wanted to cry and yell but I couldn’t I felt like I had to be calm for my son. I was never so afraid in my life watching them with that saw.

So then they made the helmet from that mould. Thomas would wear the helmet for 23 hours a day for the next 6 months. Only taking it off to bathe. Thomas was such an easy baby he handled it all so great. He kept the helmet on with ease. Thank God. What I bothered me the most was not that he had to wear the helmet but people who would stare at Thomas and make up their own conclusions about the helmet without asking me. One time we were waiting in a doctors office and this girl who was about 7 years old and asked her mother why this baby was wearing a helmet. The mother looked over at us and said, “Oh… he probably has seizures or something…” I wanted to punch her. I spoke directly to the girl and told her the truth, that Thomas’ head wasn’t shaped right and the helmet would fix that, then I gave the mom a dirty look. It was really funny because it seemed that the “realist” people who just came out and asked about the helmet were store cashiers, people who worked in the deli, people who did not know us but acted in a kind and appropriate manner toward us.

Anyway you would think with all the appointments Thomas had in the city I would have learned to drive there alone. Nope. I would do the driving but had to have someone come with me. It sounds silly now but then I was afraid to drive in Manhattan with just Thomas and me. So I would recruit our good friends like Bill, Brant, even my mother in law. The best was when my dad was free. He would not only drive us but he stay outside in the car driving around the corner a dozen times so I didn’t have to pay for parking. Everyone who went with me never treated us like this was something wrong or out of the ordinary to do. I do have the best family and friends. I still have Thomas’ helmet.

The anniversary of my Dad’s passing is quickly approaching. I began to write what I remember during that time before he took his final breath here on this earth but then I began thinking of the good times and what a good Dad he was to us. My dad graduated from a local vocational high school here where I live. Growing up, he made a living as a truck mechanic. The big dump trucks. He occasionally would drive a truck here and there but he mostly repaired the trucks for the company he worked for which was owned by a very nice man named Sonny.

I remember some Saturdays when my grandparents weren’t watching us, when both my parents were working/mom in school; we went to the garage where daddy worked so he would “watch” us. Him watching us (us being myself, my sister and my brother) consisted of my brother usually doing tasks; don’t ask me what, I don’t remember; and my sister and I climbing all over the big ol’ dump trucks that were out in the yard. We would climb up and sit in the drivers seat and pull the cable that sounded the horn. It was a lot of fun. When we were bored of that we would run down the street which was a dead end street and all different garages; one after another. Some repaired cars, some were carting/private sanitation, etc…. All of the garages kept dogs as guard dogs. And there were always puppies at some one’s garage and just about everyone knew who we were: Walter’s kids. There was one car repair garage though that we weren’t allowed to play with the dogs because we were told those dogs were mean. You didn’t need to tell us twice because when you walked past their fenced in yard the dogs would bark and growl at you. So yeah, we stayed away from them.

Daddy had a German Shepherd named CB at his garage. CB was a great dog. He loved my dad, omg. And he was so good with us when we were young. Never growled at us or barked, such a good dog. And very protective of all of us. Not a traditional childhood memory but my dad wasn’t exactly a traditional dad. I mean he loved us I know that, but it wasn’t until we were all older, Daddy included that we would say I love you to each other. I’m glad we did grow to say I love you.

As a nurse I make decisions for all different situations. Some situations are not emergent but important non the less. There are many times a situation can turn from a run of the mill situation into an emergency and will require well thought out decisions. In the school where I work there are medically fragile students. Every day is different at my job. Some days are consistent with nothing to write home about and other days are full of running from incident to incident while trying to make sure scheduled feedings and treatments and medications are provided on time. I’m not complaining, I’m not. I love my job. And it is what it is.

I’ve worked in hospital as a bedside nurse early in my career and I did not like it at all. So I left. I had great learning experiences there but that’s all I took away from there. School nursing; caring for this population of students has given me the best of everything in nursing that is important to me. The chance to make a difference in a students’ life and the opportunity to lend support and build bridges with parents. When Thomas attended the school I now work at, I received such wonderful support and feedback from his teachers and therapists. It was very difficult to leave there when Thomas needed a residential school. Fortunately the residential school exceeded my expectations of the care they provided for my son.

So…decisions. I am often assessing the situation and running decisions through my mind before deciding on a course of action. There’s so much to consider sometimes your head spins, but not in a bad way more like an information gathering spin; what are the doctor’s orders for this situation? Is there improvement after administering meds, oxygen, etc…. If no improvement, is calling 911 necessary? Which hospital will the EMT’s take the student to? Is that facility an acceptable destination for the family? There are times the parent or guardian will only consent to one particular facility and will not allow their child to be transported and take charge of the situation themselves. And that’s ok, they have that right.

I’ve learned so much working in my school. My students have taught me so much about about what it takes to be their nurse. Every student is different and they may have similar nursing orders but their needs are not the same. I’m happy where I work. And most days I’m satisfied with the job I’ve done for the day. There are days I leave, questioning decisions I’ve had to make that day. No one is perfect and no decision making process is flawless.

I am a self admitted shoe whore. Well shoes and bags if I’m to be completely honest. But it started with shoes. I remember I became friends with a girl named Michele, we both worked at this children’s clothing store that was very popular in the ‘80’s in my neck of the woods. Michele was young, beautiful and really dressed for work, accessories, heels, body con dresses, the works. I wanted that look so we shopped together and I began wearing heels just about everywhere; especially to work. So I can easily say Michele sparked my love of shoes, boots, all with at least a 2 inch heel. Back in the day I did not go out with my friends unless I was wearing heels.

I began working at an auto parts store right next door to the children’s clothing store. I continued to dress up for work. It didn’t matter that I was a cashier, I wore dresses with heels to that job almost every day. The owner of the store was an interesting man. I asked him why he wanted a woman to be his cashier and he answered that he felt men cursed less and had all in all more calm behavior when he had a woman working in the store. I worked there almost all through college. It was a fun place to work. And the environment didn’t stop my love of wearing heels and nice shoes to work. I think the only place I didn’t wear heels was to college because there was so much walking involved from one building to another, and I won’t get into how terrible the parking was.

Fast forward to today. I no longer wear heels; much. My feel totally kill me if I do. I’ll wear flats whether it be a sandal or a boot. Heels wouldn’t work very well with the job I have now anyway. One day I wore a short boot with a 2” heel and I ended up literally running from one classroom to another to keep up with emergencies that were happening that day, up the stairs, down the stairs …Bad day to wear a heel. I still love shoes and boots. Today I organized my shoe closet. I have a lot of shoes. I didn’t count how many pairs. Every variety of sneaker, sneaker with a wedge heel, then flats, sandals, platform sandals, I will wear a platform heel if we are going out. (I wore platform heels when my kids were small, I could run a marathon in a platform heel I tell ya).

So it was interesting to go through my shoe collection. To think about how my collection has changed over the years. Changed the way my hair color and styles have changed. I’m sure there’s a connection somehow. I do have shoes that are more sensible and conservative than others the same way my hair has been conservative and then totally not conservative. Sometimes you just have to shake things up.

I know it’s early for some people but I’m taking down the tree and putting Christmas decorations away. I want my house back. Actually this is on the late side for me to be taking the tree down. I’ve been known to do it on December 26. The one year I did that, Thomas was in rare form and I wanted nothing more than to erase any trace of the holiday that was just trashed. I remember the emotions of that Christmas but I can’t remember the year.

This year, I don’t feel any particular rush to take the tree down. I’m doing it this weekend because I’m to go back to work this Monday and I don’t want to come home after work to my tree still up and my house not the way I’d like it to be. To me there’s a certain relief of putting all the decorations away. In my life, after the 25 of December has come and gone it’s time.

For the first time in the 26 years we’ve been married I had to ask Tommy for help getting the tree back up in the attic. This December when I brought it down was kind of hairy and Lelly was seriously afraid I was going to hurt myself. I laughed at the time but I knew I wasn’t getting it back up there by myself. We did it together and we laughed, poor Samantha had to have her things moved around in her attic room. Then I kept forgetting boxes on our first floor and the stocking holders, omg. I couldn’t stop laughing! It’s good to laugh at yourself.

Happy New Year!! And best of luck to those taking their tree down “early”.

I know many make resolutions or decisions that will hopefully impact their lives for the better for the incoming new year. I don’t. In the past I used to and then whatever the average days or weeks into the new year those resolutions were deserted. I guess you could say I try to make happen certain plans that have been on my mind. I’m planning to begin my masters degree program in February, I’m planning to continue to exercise before work, I can’t think of others but that’s a sampling of how my mind works.Things don’t always go as planned though especially in this age of Covid. Plans don’t materialize, you can have all the good intentions in the world and what you planned to happen just does not occur. Sometimes God has other plans for you and you can’t not follow His plan because that is the one that is best for you.

I remember when Thomas first moved to the group home close to where we live. I had all these plans of things we would do together now that we lived closer together. We were going to go to the mall together, go to church together, have dinners during the week together. Well…Thomas doesn’t do the mall very well, he was a fiasco at church and we are all too busy to have dinners together during the week. Instead, Thomas comes over every Sunday and stays the afternoon to just after dinner. Then he’s ready to go home; ready being an understatement. So much for planning. I must say that Thomas has squashed just about every plan I’ve ever had for him in the past 25 years. I’m not bitter, not at all. Just stating a fact.

I really hope that everyone who is making plans or New Years resolutions have the best results this year. Sometimes we need to kick ourselves in the butt to get going. Sometimes we abandon the original plan for something completely different and many times The Lord has His own plan and obedience to Him is the only way to go. Whatever the case; Happy New Year!

The week between Christmas Day and New Year’s Eve where you have no idea what day it is, what you’re supposed to do with yourself if you’re not working and what to do with your kids if they’re too young to be left on their own. I remember all to well when my kids were younger. I used to naively believe they would keep themselves busy by playing with all the new toys they received at Christmas. Ha! I couldn’t have been more wrong. They were not content to stay home and play with new toys. I remember trying to entertain everyone. It was not easy. Especially when Thomas was in the mix. He’s still high maintenance. I used to tell our then pediatrician, “all my kids should have been born only children.” I really felt like I couldn’t give them all enough attention each. I know now I was wrong but it was not easy back in the day.

These days it’s so so nice. Yesterday I went to TJ Maxx to peruse what Christmas items they marked down (fwiw not much). I went alone. Bliss! Then later in the day Lelly and I braved the mall. She wanted to go to Barnes and Noble and I had a return to do at Macys. The mall was so stinking crowded, not a fun time. But we split up and each did our own thing, meeting up again when we were finished. We even managed to score a decent parking spot but the amount of people there was crazy I tell you.

Today I did food shopping; alone again. I go early in the morning so either no one was up (Samantha) or no one wanted to come with (Lelly). And that was fine. If you see a trend of me liking to run errands alone you hit the nail on the head. It’s not that I don’t enjoy the company of others; it that it’s so dang easy to get things done when you’re not waiting on someone else. When I’m home I enjoy when my kids or husband are around. I get bored if I’m here by myself. This week will be nice because Lelly and Samantha are home from school, same as me. If I want to go out alone I just don’t ask them to come. I’m known to take my time when I shop so they don’t usually want to come anyway. Today Samantha and I need to shop for something for her to wear to a Sweet 16 party. Should be interesting.

I feel like a kid waiting for the final days to pass until we begin winter/Christmas break. Counting today we have 2 days (or 1 not counting today) remaining. And I’m not the only one counting. Some of the staff began counting as soon as we returned from Thanksgiving! They made me laugh, it was way too early to count down, in my opinion anyway. I’m tired today. It’s been emotionally exhausting worrying about Covid and positive cases and the rise in cases. I know I’m not alone in that I just want to celebrate Christmas; the birth of our Savior.

It’s funny though because I don’t want time to pass too quickly because the next you know you’re back at work. Plus I begin my program in February. I know I’ve written about this before, I’m partly excited to get started and partly dreading writing more papers. I’m dreading the papers because I don’t particularly care for research. Some issues are easy to find scientific approved articles and others are so difficult you wonder why you chose that subject in the first place. Plus the articles are only permitted to be about 4 years old. I haven’t even started yet and I’m already complaining.

We’ve decided this year since we aren’t going anywhere due to Thomas and his tendency to be so structured; to have a brunch on Christmas Day with my mom and family. A change to what we usually do and I am looking forward to it. We’ll all be together for dinner as well; it will be nice.