They are Worth Every Minute

It's 4 am, I am on hour 21 of a straight 24 hour shift on the ambulance. It's a sort of tucked away part of me that I don't really share about. To have this job is unlike many others. There is some reward, when helping those truly in need. Often though it thankless and grueling. People call, we go. It doesn't matter why they call we have to go. We have to take them to a hospital no matter the reason. Many take advantage of the system and don't have true medical need for calling us. It is this part of the job, it is a large part, it is the ingratitude and misuse of a system of help me and do what I want that makes this a torturous job. Selfishness is ripe in this world. Too many people think only of themselves and not of others. What if family, neighbors and friends truly cared for each other and truly supported each other? Children would not be left in cold, dirty basements to fend for themselves. Children would not gnaw on their pizza crust sitting next to trash with roaches crawling across their dirty, tiny, chubby little feet while momma screams and tantrums because the babydaddy called the police because she went crazy when he showed up after months of not being there. These people would know how to treat each other with respect, they would care for their children because they have self respect and pride. There would be no dead baby that ate the "oxy" that he found when he was crawling across the filthy floor. Teenage girls, babies themselves would not be having babies that they do not know how to care for. Someone would help these girls learn how to parent through the stress.

A 16 year old shot an 18 year old, over drugs. He was lying in the gutter, nearly dead, in a nice part of town. The neighbors are horrified because things like that don't happen around here. Yet the lady with her bags, her dirty hair, her mumblings and stumblings are ignored by these people daily until she plops down on their front lawn in her blank, numb, confused I can no longer walk straight today or tell you who I am or where I am binge. She has no money and no support system and the system fails again.

She is an old woman, he is an old man. They are very sick and love each other very much. He can not take care of her but refuses to give in to the need to have her placed in a minimally staffed, over crowded, not enough of anything to go around nursing home, because really noone is nursing her or adequately caring for her or ministering to he basic needs as he so selflessly does here in their tiny basement apartment and when she slips and falls we come and help her back up because he can not and they refuse any other offer of care because at least here they have each other and that love is worth more to them than a system that will fail because they will not be able to stay together, no one will help her to the bathroom as soon as she needs to go, she will sit and wait and soil herself and feel shame and helplessness and he will be unable to to bear that sight. So they sit night after night and wait until the aide comes in the morning, for the few hours the medicare will cover, and then he will nap and try to rest assured that for a few hours they are both ok.

And soon I will finally get to go home and see their smiling faces and bright eyes and grumpy morning faces and that makes it all worth it.

Little Things

So many thoughts and needs and wants have poured through my brain over the past week. The stress and fear have left me ragged, depleted. I feel like I can't process any more. There are many details to try and see to before the insurance coverage runs out. The little man has gone to the dentist. In true Alex form, he was a riot. " Hey dentist lady, you gonna look at me teeth, aaahhh?!" No cavities, hooray. But, his beloved " ni-night" that he stuffs into his mouth and is so comforted by is causing his teeth to disfigure. As soon as the dentist, a nice lady younger than I asked if Alex was still using a pacifier and I answered, "it's not a pacifier" Alex joined in with - " it's my finga's - see" and popped two in his mouth and started sucking. He has never, no once sucked on his fingers, nor a pacifier. Always his blanket. I don't know how he knew that we were headed into that awful territory of you can't have your blankie anymore, but my man lied boldly through hi damn fingers without batting an eye. Sigh, he loves his stinky ass " ni-night."

Pediatrician's appointments for well visits have been made. Cait and Alex went yesterday. Vision, hearing, an vaccination updates were on the menu. They did fabulouslly until they realized that " shotses" were intended. The doctor hadn't even come in for the exam and they were both crying and screaming, " no shots, I don't want shots Mommy." Breaks my heart, but I do believe vaccinations are necessary. Catie bearly cooperated for her wellness exam. Alex performed for his. " I am a turtle, I am a monkey, I can stand on my head with one foot in the air, no shotses ok?" Poor kids. 5 for Catie because the 4 year old well visit is just brutal, she shrieked and cried and good God it was awful. Alex cried for her " why you do that, no hurting Catie." And then it was his turn. For 1 flu shot. He was all revved up by previewing his sister. But it got done. The afternoon at home was nothing short of sweet and pathetic. Caitlin proclaimed, " I feel like I am going to die." Then qualified that statement with " like not die for real, just like I am going to die of shots." She also required pictures of her band aids and boo boo's. She also declared she was unable to clean up her markers and paper because " my arms hurt too much to move" and gave a display of letting them hang limply by her side as she meweled pittifully. The drama. Alex was full of hugs and " I love you Mommy and Daddy." It is these moments that bolster my spirit and give me courage. He was being a nose honker as well, and really thinks that he is hysterical. Anthony get's his turn at the doctor next week, hopefully the little one can keep the secret...

Before bed, I asked Alex for "big hugs". In Alex world big hugs are an entire little body that wraps himself as tightly as he can around the other person. It is a fabulous hug. He solemnly held up his fingers and said " only two big hugs Mommy then I go night-night."

These little moments and these little laughs and smiles are what I am learning to appreciate more and more each day. Every single person has worries. I have huge worries but all of these little things now seem so much more important the big worries. Hopefully as we work our way through this mess of unemployment and insurance loss and money worries the little things will shine through more and more. I love my 3 little things more than I can describe.

Alex is comfortably cocooned in bed with the offending "ni-night" firmly grasped in his teeth

3 of Catie's 5 boo-boo's

" take my pitya Mommy!"

A little critter comfort after a long day

Then What?

The horrible thing about depression is even that I know I have suffered from depression, at times horribly, when it comes crashing back in an unexpected time or moment it blindsides me. I guess my depression is more anxiety. An overpowering, heavy brick that sits on me and won't let me come up for air. I shake and it will not stop. I get really agitated with the kids, and their normal kid stuff. The paperwork I am trying to gather in order to get insurance coverage for the kids when Joe's benefits expire on October 31 is daunting.

Trying to make phone calls to plead with utilities and other bill people is horrifying and embarassing and it doesn't fail that a child comes and starts hollering in my face while I am trying to make progress. And the pressure builds inside and I feel like I will explode. I walk away because there is no other option. I don't feel like I can properly and fairly instruct and discipline them when I am feeling so out of control with myself. How will I get this stuff done and protect my children and provide for them? I feel alone. My husband doesn't seem overly concerned. He thinks he will quickly find another job. I worry about what is going to happen after his last check comes. Then what?

0.88

Deep down, I know that we have very supportive families. Both of our sets of parents have pledged their help and support in any way possible. My husbands parents may be able to help financially if we need them to. And, I really do know that it could be so much worse. No one has died or been struck seriously ill.

My chest squeezes so tight I can barely breathe when I think about the phone call that came on Friday. My husband was " terminated." After 13 years of dedication and hard work for a corporate giant. He often gave more to the giant than to me, to his kids, to his family. Panick attacks grip me at the unexpected times of day these last few days. It is horrifying and humiliating. I know that at this very moment, we are ok. We are under a roof which doesn't leak, with windows that aren't cracked or broken. We have food in our fridge and pantry, and a tomato plant that hasn't realized it is mid-October and just sprouted 6 tiny new tomato's. The shoes still feet on their feet at this moment, we have enough clothing that fits on their bodies. We aren't behind on our bills now, so maybe if we start falling behind we can work something out. The feed bins for our furries are mostly full. Hopefully the preschool that Catie and Alex go to will be willing to work with us. It is a wonderful school, they love it, Catie especially is thriving. Fear. I know it could be worse. How do I decide where the money goes when there is none. Will we lose the house before long, or should I hope that they don't foreclose and pay utilities so we are warm and clean and able to cook and clean. How do I negotiate a lower car insurance premium? The fear closes around me and makes it feel like I am being sucked down into a pit with the air holding me under.

I am hoping that with this, he will become more involved. We will do more as a family together. I hope that he will start being a husband and daddy again. I hope that this is the message for our family, because if it isn't than I don't know what THE HELL YOU ARE TELLING US GOD. 0.88 is the number in our account. Please don't let anyone get sick, or hurt, after October 31 because I will not know what to do God. Really, I will not know what to do.

Scrambled Eggs

It is thin, fragile, white, brown, shimmery, dull. Inside is mush, slippery or firm, hard, bending or a fragile form developing, precious and tiny. Outside, a strong barrier, a protective shield until dropped or kicked or banged, or nudged or tapped wrong.

It can bear tremendous weight when distributed correctly but shatter when carelessly moved. You can not tell what it's state is using only sight or a simple touch. Deeper inspection, holding it to the light, cradling it in your hand to feel it's warmth or it's chill. What is inside and how it has been cared for. Is it spoiled, never given a chance? Is is fertile, nurtured, warmed, protected? Will it sustain others? Will it become or is it already gone?

Do not assume to know. Do not assume the outside reveals what is inside. Each is a mystery waiting to be discovered. Aren't we all just as fragile and varied? Inside we are so many things. Soft and hard, fragile, bold. Take time and care to find out what is inside before cracking the shell.