The Business Woman Special

So this is the deal people.  I know you know because I've told you, that I am a nurse.  Actually, I am a full time nurse.  And full time Momma.  And full time Wifey.

Therefore.  I am tired.

I'm serious y'all. Before I was taken out of the hospital/away from the bedside for preterm contractions, I worked as an RN Case Manager five days a week and a bedside Neuro ICU nurse for twelve hours every other Saturday, for over a year.  I THOUGHT I was busy.  I THOUGHT I was tired.  {That was nothing.}

Recently I have come across the opportunity {And I'm not going to lie to you like it's raining jobs and they all just come to me and fall in my lap because I'm so awesome and great, I have been in dire search, high and low} to cut back a little bit.  As in work part time.  Naow I'ma tell you something.  Having a big girl job i.e. career and working part time hours, do not go hand in hand sister girl.  And I tell you, once I got that job offer, I thought I'd be dancing in the street like it was raining men.  It's not.

I have always been the girl saying, "Um no ma'am, You will not catch me at home barefoot and pregnant raising babies and scrubbing floors like some Cinderella-havin-need-to-stand by yur man-singin-yoga pant wearin-play date makin-talking about nothing but diaper rash treatin-simple minded-little-woman."  You get my point?


{"Do you have any, Business Women Specials? You know, for Business Women...?"}

Then life slapped my sassy mouth right quick, sugar.  I had a baby and I was begging to stay home.  I'm talking tears down my face in the church house praying to Jesus, PUHLEASE help me, I am TIRED I can't DO THIS someone else is raising the best thing I have ever DONE while I PRETEND life matters because it means I can say I'm a working woman making something out of my life {and ahem bringing in a check, let's not play ladies, it's nice to make a dolla holllaaaaa} while I COULD CARE LESS BECAUSE MY CHILD WILL NEVER EVER BE THREE MONTHS OLD AGAIN. {or four or five or six..}  Are you hearing me, sugar?

So here I am trying to find a happy medium, stuck in between the old me and the new me, thinking that the new me would be tickled pink with the option of a new part time jobbie job, while the old me is shaking her head irritably tapping her leopard print Danskos {I'm a nurse, If I wore heels to work the rest of the nurses would shun me.  It's like openly wearing a thong in the Amish Country}

And I'm at a loss.  Now what?  Take the part time job, stop feeling like an exhausted crazy person, and work in a different sense of the word {I now KNOW that women who stay at home WORK}?  Or keep the full time job, WORK for a great salary {I also now KNOW that WORK for an income to pay for a certain lifestyle is a PRIVILEGE easily taken for granted} but know that what I'm worried I may miss, I will certainly never get back?

Can women really have it all, do it all and accomplish ALL of it WELL?  Or are we left to feel guilty for whatever we choose, should we have the luxury of making this choice?

Should you Could you have the time, fabulous article, from Anne-Marie Slaughter.  And to Mrs. Slaugher: I appreciate your forward, honest, CURRENT opinion.

And I'm spent.

Sweet Brown. A Haiku

Oh Lord Jesus It's a Fahre.

 I got Bronchitis.  

Ain't Nobody Got Time for That.

The Past 10 Days.

Lately I have been feeling a bit under the weather (OK the past 10 days but who's counting?)  Here are some of the things I in which I have dabbled, in hopes to lift myself out of this funk.  Which happens to actually require an albuterol nebulizer, antibiotic and Robitussin with codeine.

I'm quite holistic.

And might I mention a bit of personal insight?  I had a baby in February of this year, and my current employer  does not offer maternity leave, therefore I filed for a Family Medical Leave of Absence {FMLA} to have my baby, thus saving 5 weeks of sick and vacation time prior to having my child.  I used this paid time off,  filed for 2 weeks of short term disability pay, and then took the remainder of the 3 months of my maternity leave unpaid.  I do not have the option to be sick as I have exhausted my paid sick time, as well as vacation time, {and no, in case you were wondering having a child does not constitute as sick nor is it a vacation, as evidenced by...}so yes I will be at work, and no I will not take time off unpaid, and no I will not use the 8 hours of vacation I have finally earned back over the past 8 1/2 months back at work {yes my vacation bank did go in the negatives.}

I do not say this to complain, I work for a fabulous company.  I say this because I know I am not the only woman who has found herself in a similar situation.  You mention this as a problem and you are likely to be perceived as a difficult, whining, "mom."  You pretend like you don't feel slightly slighted and you're a pushover of a woman.  You act like you don't feel sick, and go to work while sounding like a raspy man and you're the rude nasty girl who doesn't mid spreading her germs amongst the office. 

But once again, we will put on our big girl panties and deal with it.

More Holiday Follow Up

No really, all pouting aside it was a great holiday, the baby had his first ever Thanksgiving Day Lunch...

wearing my cousin's baby doll bib (she is five)

He does not actually have a Big Sister.

Thank you Jesus.

And first ever Thanksgiving Day Dinner in which one of my many family members decided he did not need to wear pants.

And while I'm not actually "for" posting pictures of your child that:

 1.) aren't even good pictures and

2.) are incriminating to you as a parent -ie child's face is filthy with koolaid, chewed up mac and cheese, vomitus {seriously yall, I saw that in a chart a few days ago.  Really? You think you're a prudent nurse because you can chart using the word "vomitus"?}, and/or no pants during Thanksgiving Dinner,

I went ahead and posted some of the above mentioned line items.   

(...MommaZone, anyone?)

As per usual, I will now showcase a picture of my Bojangles To Go Order...

Once we put this into place, to Blowing Rock we go.

Because we need a Christmas Tree.

Bebe, howevah.  Stayed in the car due to subzero temperatures.

Yes. Subzero.  In the North Carolina Mountains.  You may be a Carolina Girl...if ... it is embedded well within your belief system that when the thermomostat reaches below 60 degrees (Farenheit) it is, in fact, freezing.

Ok we let him out of the car for ten minutes to learn about Christmas Tree Farms.  See?

Uncle Ryan and Aunt Carri



And yessir, there you have it, that's a tree.  Naow get this child back in that truck before he catches his death.

Starbucks

Hello Ladies and GentleLadies, how was your Thanksgiving?  This is where I spent mine.

Are you done guessing where that is?  Don't worry about it, I'll just tell you. 

This. 

Is me in a Starbucks charting in between patient visits.  This Starbucks happened to have groceries as well.  Ok Sike it's the Starbucks attached to Harris Teeter in Cameron Village.  

A full grocery cart.  In Starbucks.  On Thanksgiving Day.  With a line to the door of patronage.  While I worked.  (Not going to lie, I also posted my Thanksgiving Day blog post as well...What? I can't get in on a little free wi-fi too!?)  I looked creepy enough taking this picture (inconspicuously?) and looked even creepier trying to use the panorama option on my camera to take a picture of the masses who just couldn't get enough coffee. 

This coming from a gal who has worked either/and/or/a combination of all three Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years over the past five years:  Seriously people.  Get the hell out of Starbucks and go enjoy your people.  Be it family, friends, acquaintances, or whomever floats your boat. 

I sound like a crotchety old lady.

You go work a few major holidays.  Maybe you'll sound crotchety too.

Happry Thranksgriving



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And nothing says Thank You Lord for All These and Thy Many Blessings like a nice little stenotic left main coronary artery {you may be familiar with WidowMaker, no?} with some diabetic coma mixed in.

Below, is how you may quickly achieve both.  AKA: how we celebrate Thanksgiving in my family



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So Happy Thanksgiving from my family to yours.  {That's not really my family, rather a tasteful piece of photography from Garden&Gun}

First Pumpkin Patch Experience

Whitten's first pumkin patch experience was pretty much borderline disastrous.  Entering MommaZone. You've been warned.  {For those of you unfamiliar with MommaZone, please refer yourself, here}

So. Pretty much.  He was exhausted because he hardly napped all day (hello, church nursery, I just called you out) therefore he did not care to actually enjoy the pumpkin patch, rather he enjoyed to whine.  Josh was *excuse me* bitching because he didn't think it was his place to also enjoy the Whitten's First Pumpkin Patch Experience secondary to, you guessed it, football. Which is reasonable because his running back/quarterback/cornerback/defensive tackle, Ron-Darius-Debrikashaw-Brady-Rothlesberger was in fact, on his fantasy team, and playing, "RIGHT NOW," and "I'm MISSING IT."  Apparently his watching every play of each of these over-paid meat heads all weekend long (and parts of the week-yes football runs Thursday through Monday) is directly related to how they actually play (oh you didn't know that?)  Which is in fact a direct correlation to Fantasy Football Team Domination. 

I hate to be such a thorn in everyone's side (no I don't), but I'd just like to keep it real, real quick.  I work. All Day.  Every Day.  Parts of the work I do actually earn an income. A Salary.  The other parts, don't pay cash money (oh, you didn't know that either?)  No matter.  The point is.  I am busy.  All the time.  When I have thirty minutes.  To take my child.  To his very First Pumpkin Patch Experience.  Ever.  Everyone. Better. Cooperate.  And Pretend. To Love it.  Or. I will make you Hate. Everything. 

And you can run and tell that.