Lists.

I'm quitting my job! I couldn't be happier. I truly love my coworkers. The nurses I work with are brilliant, compassionate, and calm in chaos. I wish the patients, JCHAO, CMS and all the other nonsense would see the same thing. The following is my top 3 reasons for quitting:

1. I got called fat for eating a hot dog from the cafeteria one time.
   
2. In an almost 14-hour day, I did not pee, eat, or sit until my shift had technically ended. At that point in time, I had a cup of water and an ice cream.
3. I had poop shoved in my face. This was after the woman had called me an idiot the previous day for asking her simple questions.

It would be hard for me to find time this summer to fit in hours, and I really don't want to spend the next day exhausted and angry. I don't like angry, I like to play and laugh.

For another uber awesome list, I present to you the new things my baby boy has decided to do:

1. He now says "ball"
2. He now says "bubbles"
3. He barks on occasions
4. He can dance and headbang like nobodies business
5. He melts hearts with a smile. I've seen it, it's impressive
6. He now says "peas" for please
7. He can sing, kinda
8. He can sigh as good as any 16-year old drama queen
9. He thinks the front steps are a slide.
10. He can stomp really hard.

The Holy City

An analysis of Charleston, SC by Lauren Young.

Aww, catchy title. I have been antsy in Charleston for awhile. I love "most" of my neighbors, my family of friends, the Aquarium, and the food. The rest of it I have great dislike for. Yet, traffic is bad everywhere else, government is government, and people will still look down their nose at me. Which leads to understanding why Charleston has made me ill at ease and why I want so badly to move.

Today it hit me. Well, actually I almost hit it (her).

I was driving down King Street and was at the intersection of Grove and King when a women high on drugs/beer/god starting walking down the middle of my lane of traffic. No warning, no worry, and no sense of wrong. I slam on my brakes and honk, knowing fully well she saw me and I saw her. She starts carrying-on and swings (but misses) at my car. I am not interested in a pointless altercation and am definitely not interested in hurting her, so I back up slightly and head another way.

Charleston is a small area where socioeconomic status is not separated by land and walls. Rich lives near poor often. This brings and interesting dichotomy to play. In Charleston you see people not alive, yet not dead (no I do not mean zombies or vampires). You see those who have lost any amount of hope or decency and merely don't care.

This translates at all levels, all races, and all genders. It is a dilapidated status quo where no one cares the outcome and no one fears their humanity.

It saddens and disgusts me.

Blabber, babble, and such

In the struggles I am having personally, I look to the patients I see for inspiration.

As a nurse practitioner student, I question and question and question, especially when rounding in the nursing home. We ask a million-and-one questions to get a million-and-one truths. My preceptor see mainly folks over the age of 40 with numerous disease states and he becomes entwined in their lives and health. Most of these folks are salt of the earth war heroes who walk with a sense of pride and composure America will never see again.

They don't divorce their wives when the going gets tough, they admit defeat and own up to their actions (even if it means one more medication or one more educational lecture). They made it through hell, separation, and post-traumatic stress. Yet, they always stood by one another.

My generation does not have that. We care about ourselves, the instant, the right-now. I would blame technology, but I think our morals have changed for the worst.

I am blabbering. It brings pride and empathy when I hear the overwhelming devotion and love so many elderly couples have for one another. I want that. I know that can still exist in this generation.

I really want to blabber about the new healthcare bill, but I think refinding love is more important.

Absolutely posituney

Weight loss, party time, excellent. Although I would rather do it more slowly, 4.8 pounds lost is so awesome. I am 2 pounds to pre-pregnancy and it is nice to feel back in my body.

Stephen and I had a good day. It was weirdly warm-cold outside though. Shinfo.

I could grump about the new healthcare bill, but duck bills are way more entertaining. We play "stinky feet" with Conor and he giggles so hard. He decided to play today, and as I stuck my toes in his face he started waving his hand in front of his nose and giggling. So cute...

Speaking of cute, and oldie but a goodie.
First smile caught on camera.

Looking at the positives

Today was a better day. And for this I am thankful.

I wish it was a better day for Jesse. Jesse is a righteous and extremely intuitive young man. This intuition makes him very emotionally driven and makes him artistic. But, it also sets him up for the highest of highs and lowest of lows.

Poor guy. At least with girls ice cream works wonders...

Conor knew that mommy and daddy were happier today, and it made him hilarious! He was totally showing off all day. Here are EIGHT awesome things my baby can do...

Hiss like a snake
Pant like a doggie
Color like a young Warhol
Dance like a fool (or a skanker)
Hop like a bunny
Choo-choo like a train conductor
Climb like a monkey
Screech like a velociraptor.

This stinker makes me sooooo happy.

Truth, Support, and Wisdom

..."and you shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free..." (John 8:32)

As I have told several, with the recent events I am hoping for divine inspiration, and the above quote (one of a handful I know) seems a perfect (if not cliche) foundation for this growth. Stephen finally admitted to me he was an alcoholic. He has hidden this and failed treatment from me for several years.

I am ashamed and stupid for not knowing. Ashamed for wearing blinders and trusted something as juvenile as a pinky promise.

I am so mad. Mad for my family being taken advantage of and for me looking like an absolute fool.

I am confused. Confused on love, trust, and faith.

I am hurt. Hurt for my family, friends, and child who have all been lied to.

Yet, I know I must move past my pain and emotions to provide support to Stephen. I can't be his wife right now, but I can be his friend. I don't know my feelings for him, and right now that is not what is important. I can help him through the worst of this horrible disease, learn how to be honest, and learn how to cope. Maybe in those steps I will find love again. Maybe Stephen will discover he is a good person, and while past actions cannot be changed who he decides to become can.

Maybe I will find wisdom to help others. Maybe I will finally become an adult.

"Girl's Not Grey"

I have never been one for forgiveness. Tolerance, yes. Understanding, sure why not. Forgiveness to me feels like a failure of will and an embarrassment to self. I guess I should have been an elephant, because the never forget.

I have a very good memory, it is a blessing and curse. A blessing because it makes me intelligent and good in school, a curse because I can remember things most people forgive and forget. I hold on to these memories because I feel ashamed a slight to my character occurred. Yet, it makes me bitter and difficult to friend.

It isn't I am afraid "to let people in" or to "let them know the real Lauren" (horrible, awful cliches left for the vapid scenester to say as they mount their tragically used bike in pants cutting of vital circulation to sexual organs). I have a level of self preservation because I think most are unworthy or stupid. I can see the ulterior motives of others, their plans, and what happens in the future. Almost ESP but not quite. It makes them uninteresting and "fake".

Those I do friend are ones I cannot figure out. Which is why I chose the sorority I did, why I have the friends I do, and why I chose Stephen.

This inability to control and see has lead to heartache and a decision in my court. Every decision in my life has been easy. I plan, think, and know and 99.8% of the time it comes out just like I expect. This time, I have no idea what will happen. In fact, I don't even want to imagine the future right now.

Perhaps it is still to painful...

Perhaps I realize my lack of insight, tolerance, and forgiveness...

Perhaps I need a cookie...

All I know is I have friends, which is amazing. I have never been weak and am always there with support. This time, I need it deeply. Yet, no matter what I have to do what is right for CONOR and maybe not necessarily for my fragile esteem or heart.

I must be vulnerable and forgiving, something I have never done. If I don't do this, nothing will change, everything will fail, and I will remain bitter and pathetically inane.

My block tower has fallen.

What do you do with devastating personal news?

Especially news of the heart and psyche?

I have dealt with devastating medical news and watched my mom try her hardest to die in front of my eyes. I have told someone they have cancer and that they need to stop drinking or die.

This morning I found news that I don't know if I can handle. I spent my day at clinical angry, in tears, and all together intolerant of patients. Pathetic I know, but sometimes work and personal life mix in a negative way.

My nursing background and desire to protect the physical has supplanted my anger to a degree. No matter what I have to protect and maintain the health of others, it is what I do for a living and what I have a passion for. Yet, I still want to throw stuff, break things, and scream. I have had such a SHIT 2010 so far.

• School blows....
• Work is 12 hours of running my ass off for patients abusing themselves and the system...
• I worry about my mom all the fucking time...I also worry about my dad and his unwillingness to treat his COPD and undetected hypertension...
• I can't seem to lose weight and feel good about myself...
• I step in poop/pee/puke at least every other day...
• I clean and clean and clean and the house still looks a mess...
• My sister doesn't talk to me, and I am tired of being in competition with her...
• I can't stay asleep and have been running on fumes and Starbucks...

And now this. Why? No clue. Forgivable? I don't know. I don't know if what I am doing is foolish and demeaning to my character. I don't get any of it, all I know is I am so angry and hurt. I don't know how I will be able to sleep tonight or function in class tomorrow.

Once again and forever, I will be thankful for my son. Every other thing makes me nervous, nauseous, and downright angry.

CAN I PLEASE CRY UNCLE NOW?

\T

Day One

Today was my first day of Weight Watchers (WW).

It will be nice to have some form of accountability in this whole weight loss thing, because I have never been good about it. I either go to the extremes or say "screw it" I'm fine with what I am (when in fact I am not).

This should hopefully keep me on track and in-check. No more hour long treadmill sessions, no more skipping meals.

It is hard though when I know everything from a medical perspective, as I tell it to patients daily. Maybe I will finally practice what I preach.

My goal is between 135-140 pounds which is 15-20 pounds. That would make my BMI in the 21-22 range. I am just so instant gratification that I get frustrated.

But yay, I jogged today for a reasonable amount of time. My shins, knees, and feet don't hurt. I still need to find a better running shoe, but the budget is too tight. I also need to suck it up and wear socks, but I think it is the worst feeling in the world.

So here is to 21 points and 30-40 minute jogs daily.

6 month plan

Maybe it should be a nine month plan? I'm not pregnant, but was able to plan, save, and grow for this amount of time before. Seems like I should be able to do it again.

Here it goes...

1. Financial Responsibility Stephen and I are taking Conor sized hops and stomps towards total financial independence. We need to avoid Target and Walmart at all costs! We spend so much on household cleaning products and items, it seems ridiculous.

2. Eating Healthy, Well, and Cheaply. I am starting Weight Watchers tomorrow with a goal to lose 15-25 pounds in 6 months. To do this, I want to take back the reigns of cooking and get back to the veggies I love and the grilled meats Stephen loves. We are dedicated to stopping the vicious take-out cycle. Our stomachs and wallets need the break. I am down 6 pounds (finally) from January, but I am still not pre-pregnancy. I am tired of starting and failing. Stephen is with me on this one. Crazy what a little BMI calculation will do.

3. JUST SAY NO!!!!! I am tired, stressed, and cannot handle much more. Taking care of 3 boys, 1 dog, 2 cats, cooking, cleaning, full-time school with 2-3 clinical days per week, part-time work, busting it on the treadmill or bike path, and job hunting is enough for most anyone.

3 things, 6 months, 2 people...we can do this. I need an Obey poster made.

I did it.

I joined Weight Watchers.

I am so tired of feeling ugly and gross. I am so tired of posting junk like this. So Monday, I start my Weight Watchers journey. I need to learn how to work-out everyday not killing myself for an hour on the treadmill 3-4 times per week. My old knees can't take it.

In way funner news, Conor is the best. He plays so hard and it is so much fun to be his mom right now.

Getting my shoe tied by dad. I have minions do my dirty work.

It is time to slide!

WHEE! THIS IS AWESOME!

I'm grumpy

I despise my across the street neighbors with every toenail clipping I have ever clipped. They are rude, insolent, trashy, and I am tired of calling 911 on them at 2 in morning. I shouldn't have 911 on speed dial.

The site of the "mom" makes me want to throw a cat or similarly sized small animal. I like animals and mean them no harm mind you.

Utterly ridic....wait now I am picturing them with udders and it makes me mildly less irritated.

Not as irritated though as at my school. I feel similarly about the College of Nursing. I maybe would even throw a wallaby at them, I'm talking exotic-type angry. One of these days, I will live in a world where tattoos aren't for Christian Audigier and Ed Hardy to exploit. I will never get how people can "wear" tattoos but not accept them...but I digress.

How can you blame a bad clinical situation and asking for help on the way I look. Thanks for making me feel worthless and ugly ladies. Really classy. Kind of like this blog, with more passive banter.

I asked for help and change in clinical, so I can put the knowledge you DIDN'T teach me to use and be a great practitioner and advocate. I didn't need you to threaten me with failure and losing all that I have worked so hard for. If "I don't meet [your] standards I won't progress in the program".

What?

So, if I still have my tattoos and feel incompetent the 20 grand or so I have given for this worthless program go to nothing? I am definitely feeling no pressure or stress. None at all. I will do this with a smile on my face and my middle-finger secretly raised at you.

Where did all the morals in this world go? Is there an app for that?

I'm grumpy and miss my baby and my Stephen. In closing this is one of my horrible and evil tattoos that makes me a bad student and awful clinician. Doesn't it scare you?