Back track to a few weeks ago on a Saturday night… Mom’s first night out solo–Wahooooo! Am I right? Who can relate? I was kind of excited to run out the door. This was my first time going out for longer than two hours in the past three and a half months. I was going
If someone told me 20 years ago that in 2016 I’d be working as a nurse and happily living 25 miles from the town where I grew up, I probably would have socked them. In June of 1993, I graduated from high school and hustled out of Connecticut with no plans to come back. Acutely aware of – but
A few weeks ago, I was cleaning up my six-month-old’s blow-out on a public bathroom floor when an older woman walked in. My baby’s interested eyes and charming smile clearly blinded the woman from the poop that was smeared on the floor, the used diaper, and the small heap of dirty clothes and wipes we
Recently my 5-year old has enjoyed hearing stories about when I was pregnant with him. He knows that he “grew in my belly” and he thinks it’s absolutely hilarious that he used to kick and punch me from the inside. He is fascinated when I tell him that I used to see his little fists and
Over the past decade, I have worked hard to become a good nurse. Initially quite cautious, over the years I have developed confidence in my abilities, and now pride myself on remaining calm while fielding acute crises. Clinical judgement is equal parts education, training, experience, and common sense, and virtually no one is blessed with all of these components
Tears and tantrums seem to rule our house these days. My moody and limit-testing 2-year-old ends up on the time-out chair again. Or she wants a “donut cookie” (??), and we don’t have any. She spilled milk on her shirt. I’m holding the baby. It’s a bath night. It’s not bath night. Her dinner’s too hot.
I was not one of those “glowing” pregnant women. Not even close. The only potential for glowing would have had to come from the millions of highly combustible particles orbiting my miserable, furious, fat head. My pregnancy gave rise to the greatest joy of my life, but the months up to the arrival of my son were
My baby will be two years old in a few weeks. He is in full-blown toddler mode. No more babies in my house. No more babies. Ever since I read a poem called “The Last Time” I’ve been very aware of all the “last times” I’m beginning to experience. I’ve already fed my last bottle. I’ve
It’s been almost four years since that June morning and I am no longer depressed. I have a second son now and didn’t have postpartum depression with him. I have since bonded with and love both of my boys more than anything in my life. My bond is strong and secure with my sons.
Last night I was in full-blown Super Mom mode, multi-tasking like a pro. Seriously, you should have seen me: feeding the baby, playing with my three-year old, changing diapers, preparing clothes and food for the next day, all while cooking a New Year’s resolution-inspired healthy dinner for Hub and me. Then in a second it all