Good Day! Today I got up at 5:30 am. I normally don't roll out of bed until 7-8 am. Not sure why. Could be I didn't have a nap yesterday and fell right off when my head hit the pillow. DH got up as well and had coffee brewing. Coffee is my alarm clock. hehe.
I knew Linda was coming early at 7 am so I stayed up. Linda normally doesn't come until 8-9 am. Linda she got another assignment which is an over night one. I am super flexible so I try to work around what she has going on. If she has errands or doctor's appointments or her Aunt to care for we usually just plan ahead the day before.
I got to tell you she had me chuckling this morning. This assignment is for a wealthy guy who broke his pelvis and both wrists. The agency told her she would help him to the bathroom and get him his martini with the green olives. Ha! This man was a minor league ball player for the Mets or something.
So Linda kinda came in really fired up. She said the man's wife hates her. She thinks she likes the male nurses that care for him over a female. Linda is a smoker and when she asked about taking a cigarette break the lady said "Oh I am saving your life you can't go to smoke". Linda was working from 7 pm to 7 am. That is a long time. Then she had to turn off all the lights and tv and just sit in this guys room and not fall asleep herself.
The man was up a lot during the night in pain so she didn't have trouble staying awake. The woman told her she had a very loud voice and she kept her awake all night. Linda said she felt like she was in a prison. She said that she told her she had to get gloves out of the car and the lady said "oh we have gloves". Then later on she didn't see any gloves and the lady said "Well we don't use gloves." Ok now here I have a problem with. No way do you care for someone and not wear gloves. So linda went to her trunk for hers.
I had to laugh cause of the drama as she told me all this. She said she was puffing so fast on her cigarette while she went to her car. She said she went into the corner bathroom and opened a window with fan on. She put the butt into toilet paper and put in her pocket book. She is scheduled to work this weekend a double shift. She said she isn't sure she can go that long without a cigarette break.
DH just got back from Walmart and I now have insulin again! yeah! Even realize how much we spend on paper products? Imagine you have no toilet paper, napkins, paper towels or tissues. Then add up how much you spend on these items. Could be a millionaire in the toilet paper company alone. We aren't that bad here. We did run out of paper towels and napkins. We had to buy a few rolls of toilet paper. That we definitely can't live without.
For the next few day leading up to Mother's day I am going to make my posts in honor of all the Mom's out there. Some are touching, funny and inspirational. Enjoy!
** For Moms **
Author Unknown
This is for all the mothers who DIDN'T win Mother of the Year last year, all the runners-up and all the wannabes. Including the mothers too tired to enter or too busy to care.
This is for all the mothers who froze their buns off on metal bleachers at soccer games on Friday night, instead of watching from cars. So that when their kids asked, "Did you see my goal?" They could say, "Of course, wouldn't have missed it for the world," and mean it.
This is for all the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up barf laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry Kool-Aid saying, "It's OK honey, Mommy's here."
This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see, and the mothers who took those babies and made them homes.
This is for all the mothers of the victims of school shootings, and the mothers of the murderers. For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school, safely.
This is for all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween costumes, and all the mothers who DON'T.
What makes a good mother anyway? Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips?
Is it the ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time? Or is it heart?
Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time?
Is it the jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, as you bound from bed to crib at 2 a.m. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby?
Is it the need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a school shooting, a fire, a car accident, or a baby dying? I think so.
So this is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained all about making babies, and for all the mothers who wanted to but just couldn't.
This is for reading "Goodnight, Moon" twice a night for a year. And then reading it again. "Just one more time."
This is for all the mothers who mess up. Who yell at their kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair and stomp their feet like a tired 2 year old who wants ice cream before dinner.
This is for all the mothers who taught their daughters to tie their shoelaces before they started school. And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro instead.
This is for all the mothers who bite their lips-sometimes until they bleed-when their 14 year olds dye their hair green. Who lock themselves in the bathroom when babies keep crying and won't stop.
This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.
This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.
This is for all mothers whose heads turn automatically when a little voice calls "Mom?" in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home.
This is for mothers who put pinwheels and teddy bears on their children's graves.
This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can't find the words to reach them.
This is for all the mothers who sent their sons to school with stomachaches, assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse and hour later asking them to please pick them up, right away.
This is for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation, and mature mothers learning to let go.
This is for working mothers and stay-at-home mothers, single mothers and married mothers, mothers with money, and mothers without.
This is for you all. So hang in there!