You are here: Home / Archives for Christina
Jun 11, 2009

Not Caviar Dreams, More Like Wine With A Cork Dreams

June 11, 2009 By

So I hate to sound like a broken record, but I’m really sick of this recession. It was just over a year ago that Aaron was laid off from his state job, and it’s been three months since the contract job ended. We’ve done well at living on the small unemployment checks, food assistance and a little help from my mom. We still have our house, we haven’t had to sell anything major to pay the bills, and we still get the occasional night out or treat for ourselves.

But the constant worry grates on me. It takes one illness, one accident, one car breakdown to throw us into panic. Our tax return from last year gave us an extra cushion for a few months, but now it’s gone and we’re back to carefully juggling the bills to make sure everything gets paid. We’re still OK, although I hate living so close to the edge.

Aaron has applied for several jobs, but has only had one interview, thanks to a friend of ours who works for the same company. Our friend assured us that Aaron is currently the top pick for the job, but we’re still waiting for that call back. And we don’t even know how much it will pay – it’s a mail room job that he is overqualified for, but hopefully he could advance quickly.

And as of Friday I’m officially a nursing school graduate (well, I’ve completed all the graduation requirements, but the ceremony is on Friday). Time to go out and find one of those plentiful nursing jobs, right? See, when I first started nursing school, we were told how nurses were in demand, and local hospitals were offering $5000 hiring bonuses. Two years later? Not so much. Now there are hiring freezes, cutbacks, and no one wants a new grad nurse.

My one lead, also thanks to a connection, is sitting in limbo at the moment. They like me, and I think they want to hire me, but their HR won’t let them hire a nurse until he/she has a license. Taking the exam for my license won’t happen until the end of June or early July at the earliest due to paperwork processing between the school and the Board of Nursing. They likely need the position filled sooner than that, however, so I may not have a chance.

I’m still applying at several other hospitals, too, even those outside of Columbus. It’s a shame I’m not willing to move – there are other states that still have a nursing shortage.

In my ideal world, Aaron and I will both get jobs soon, we’ll be lifted out of this financial limbo, and we can pay off our debts and get back to a more stable life. Where I won’t have to check the checking account daily, worry if we have enough to pay the bills that month, or go to Once Upon A Child to sell kids’ clothing to help cover those bills. I won’t have to be the cheap mom who avoids birthday parties and weddings so we won’t need to buy a gift. Where I can buy a bottle of decent wine once in a while without feeling guilty about it.

And I’m wishing the same good fortune for so many other friends who are in similar situations. Being struck down by financial weakness sucks.

I do believe that everything in life happens for a reason. I think I’ve learned a lot from this experience, but now I’m ready to move on to a place that isn’t so close to the bumper and front wheels of the karma bus.

Filed Under: daily life, money


Jun 9, 2009

Last Day of School

June 9, 2009 By

Today was Cordy’s last day of preschool.

After typing that last sentence, it took me 15 minutes to continue this post. I just kept staring at that sentence and thinking about all it means.

Cordy began preschool right after she turned three years old. After traumatizing evaluations, she was determined to be “special-needs” and placed in a special needs preschool class right away. I remember first meeting her teacher and thinking she seemed very nice, but I worried that there was no way she could control my wild Amazon. Her teacher took one look at her and said, “Oh, she’ll love me. I guarantee it.”

And school did not start well. Cordy hated going. Each day I would take her to her classroom, and they would have to pull her off of me so I could leave. Her screams echoed down the hall as I left, and I tried not to cry, reminding myself this was what was best for her. At that time, she didn’t engage her classmates, she paid no attention to what was going on in the room, and she refused to let anyone touch her. Asking her to do something she was afraid of resulted in a meltdown. She was still in diapers, too.

Her first school photo was a success only after her teacher spent an hour trying to coax her into the room, and even then she looked scared to death. But ever so slowly, changes appeared. She didn’t cry and scream when I dropped her off in the morning. She had better progress reports from school (even if the physical therapist still wasn’t happy with her) and her teacher told me that she was starting to fingerpaint! Like, with real paint on her fingers! And without collapsing into a puddle of tantrum on the floor!

Near the end of the first year, Cordy came home one day with her hair in a ponytail. Aaron and I were stunned. Cordy never let anyone touch her hair, yet now she was sporting a ponytail. I didn’t see any blood under her nails, so I assumed she let her teacher play with her hair.

Summer break was difficult. Cordy missed her teacher and she didn’t like the summer school program for special needs children. Much of the progress of the school year faded away during the summer. But she was going back to her same teacher and classroom in the fall, so I had something to look forward to.

This school year has been amazing. On her first day, she was excited to go back to school, unlike her first day a year before. After a few months, she started talking about her friends at school – friends!! My heart nearly burst at the thought of her finally interacting with other kids! Her teacher reported that she was starting to go with her classmates to the bathroom now, although she still wouldn’t use the potty. That wouldn’t happen until February.

We noticed that she came home many days with ponytails. Sometimes pigtails. By spring break she occasionally came home with her hair french braided. Her school photo? While it still took some coaxing, she looked more relaxed this year.

In two years of preschool, Cordy has become a new person. She’s spun that cocoon and broken out to reveal the beautiful butterfly that she is meant to be. That confused, angry, sensitive child that started in 2007 has been taught how to deal with the crushing sensory experiences life throws at her. She’s learned that she doesn’t need to always react to new situations with fear. Other children are in her line of sight now, all possible new friends to her.

Don’t get me wrong – she still has a long way to go, too. Cordy has little ability to focus on a task for more than a minute. Even with learning to cope, the world is still scary to her and her senses are easily overwhelmed. She may see other kids now, but she has a lot of trouble trying to hold a conversation.

And like her teacher predicted in 2007, Cordy adores her. When we dropped some gifts off for her teacher today, Cordy gave her a big hug and told her, “I love you, Miss W!” Tears were shed over the end of the year, and phone numbers were exchanged so we could be in touch this summer.

Because with the end of this school year, a big change is looming ahead of us. She’s too old to return to preschool and her beloved teacher. She’s eligible for kindergarten, but Aaron and I, along with Cordy’s teacher and therapists, all agree that she’s not ready for kindergarten yet. At this point she’d be eaten alive by the other kids, and after she was bullied at the mall earlier this year, I don’t think I can endure that yet.

Instead, her teacher pulled some strings to get her placed at one of the best special needs Pre-K programs in the school district next year. It’s an all-day program, unlike her preschool class, and the teacher is one that Cordy’s current teacher highly respects and recommends. There will be a strong emphasis on academics as well as the social skills she’ll need to survive kindergarten.

But we’ll miss her teacher. Miss W is a part of Cordy’s success, and I wish we could take her with us.

Filed Under: Cordy, growing up, school


Jun 5, 2009

Haiku Friday: DONE!

June 5, 2009 By
A great day has come
My final exam is done, now
I can graduate

This journey started
here three years ago and now
you’ll see it end, too.

I should be telling you that next week I’ll be walking across the stage in an elaborate graduation ceremony, but the truth is, I’m counting today as my graduation. I did the graduation walk when I received my BA in History, so I really don’t feel the need to sit through another one of those again. There is a pinning ceremony next week that I will attend, and I’ll try to have someone remember a camera.

It was here on this little blog that I decided to switch careers and try nursing, back in 2006. Cordy was 15 months old, Mira wasn’t even a thought yet. I wasn’t sure at the time if I would actually follow-thru with my bright new idea – after all, I’ve got credits for two Master’s degrees sitting around that I only half finished.

There were several days I considered quitting. The work was overwhelming at times. After pre-requisites, I started my actual nursing classes with a three month old baby at home. More than once I had to remind myself that not only was this an interest of mine, but that I was doing this for my family, too. I had to finish this because they needed me to finish.

I really disliked several of my clinical locations, and realized quickly that I was never going to be a happy nurse in med-surg. My two favorite clinicals were our mother/infant clinical and the rotation through pediatrics at Children’s Hospital.

But with the support of my family (especially Aaron, who had to deal with me stressed out every single day sometimes) and friends who provided both online and in-person cheering sections, I made it. The last exam was completed at 2:10pm today. I have my grade for the class. I will be graduating with honors (Cum Laude). And after I take our state license exam at the end of the month, I’ll officially be a Registered Nurse.

(WOO-HOO!)

What will I do with all my free time now? (Message from my practical side: look for a job!)

To play along for Haiku Friday, follow these steps:

1. Write your own haiku on your blog. You can do one or many, all following a theme or just random. What’s a haiku, you ask? Click here.

2. Sign the Mister Linky below with your name and the link to your haiku post (the specific post URL, not your main blog URL). DON’T sign unless you have a haiku this week. If you need help with this, please let me know.

3. Pick up a Haiku Friday button to display on the post or in your sidebar by clicking the button at the top.

REMEMBER: Do not post your link unless you have a haiku this week! I will delete any links without haiku!

Filed Under: me me me, school


Jun 2, 2009

In the Dark

June 2, 2009 By

Last night, as I was coming home from a night out with friends, I was treated to an amazing light show in the sky. Great, I thought, storms. Those who know me in person know how anxious I get in thunderstorms. I’ve never been able to relax and enjoy the power of nature. No, I’m too focused on the massive destruction, tornadoes, fires, and electrocution that nature can cause to enjoy some pretty lights in the sky.

I made it home right before the rain started. Settling down in my chair with my computer, I distracted myself with a quick e-mail check and some Twitter, hoping the storm would pass quickly.

And then the lights dimmed, came back, dimmed again, and then went out. No big crack of thunder accompanied it, so we didn’t know why the power decided to take time off.

Aaron found the flashlights while I looked outside and confirmed that everyone was in the dark. After our initial WTF? we lit some candles and relaxed. The rain was steady, the lightening was already calming down – so where was our electricity?

We waited. And waited. And waited. I called my mom and she asked “Did you call the electric company yet?”

“Um, no, but considering most of our side of town is dark, I’m guessing they already know.”

My only worry at this point was Cordy. If she woke up during this power outage, she would freak out. Cordy is afraid of the dark, and usually sleeps with her light on all night. A night light doesn’t cut it, and if I turn off her overhead light after she’s asleep, she’ll get up and turn it back on later in the night, along with her lamp. (And keep the nightlight on too, of course.) Thank goodness for CFL bulbs or environmentalists would have her on their 10 Most Wanted list.

Eventually we gave up and went to bed. Well, I went to bed, Aaron slept on the couch so he could turn everything off when the power came back on.

Sure enough, at 11:45pm, just as I was drifting off to sleep, I was startled awake by a scream from Cordy’s room. “I can’t get the lights on! I can’t see! I can’t see!” I fell out of bed in my frantic scurry to get to her room, trying to open and turn on my Nintendo DSi to provide light for her. When I opened her door, she was completely disoriented and terrified, shaking and reaching out for the light source while babbling about lights not working and make them work again and it’s dark and scary!

Aaron made it to the top of the stairs about the same time that I opened her door, and we guided her into our bedroom. I told her she could sleep in our bed tonight, and Aaron brought in her Sammy. (Somehow the giant Miffy that she named Sammy has become her nighttime protector and must be present so she can sleep.) With a child and giant stuffed rabbit in the bed, Aaron knew there was no room for him and went back to the couch.

At that point, all I wanted was to go back to sleep. I tried to close the DSi, but Cordy was again scared, even though I was right there with her. So I left it on, placing it on the bedside table. Then I remembered that I hadn’t charged it lately. Hmmm…once that light ran out, she’d be a mess again. I got out of bed to gather more light-producing equipment, and came up with a Nintendo DS and a book light. Well, it was better than nothing.

Thankfully, the lights came on 10 minutes after that. But Cordy refused to go back to her room. “What if the lights stop working again?” she asked over and over. I assured her that I would come and get her if they went off again, but she wouldn’t budge. As long as there was the statistical probability of the lights not working again, she was not moving.

Cordy hasn’t slept in our bed in a long, long time, and she’s not the best bed-mate. She talks half the night, kicks, fidgets, tosses and turns, and does her best to make sure no one else is sleeping. And is then up at 6am on her knees with open arms proclaiming, “Good morning, sun!” to the light coming in the window.

So if any locals happen to see me today, please buy me a coffee. And hope that she returns to her bed tonight.

Filed Under: being a mom, Cordy, daily life


Jun 1, 2009

Birthday Weekend

June 1, 2009 By

I’ve learned that I love birthday parties, but I hate getting ready for them. Each year I swear we’re going to do the next kid birthday party at a location other than our house, and then each year something comes up to make the costs too prohibitive, or we run out of time to book the location, or I worry that an outdoor location will pretty much guarantee rain and tornadoes that day.

The one upside of hosting the party at our house is it forces us to do a thorough cleaning of the house twice a year. (Three times if you count Christmas.) We spent part of last week and all morning Saturday clearing out piles of paper, choosing which of Cordy’s art projects to keep and which to toss, performing the semi-annual culling of the toy herd, and wiping down/dusting/scrubbing every surface in sight.

And then? The weather was so nice we forced everyone to come to the back gate so no one saw inside the house. Good thing we cleaned, eh?

Mira had a lovely birthday party. I love this age – she doesn’t care what the theme is, and we don’t have to have elaborate crafts or games or anything like that. In fact, the best part of her party, as far as she was concerned? Was this:


Who needs fancy decorations, performers, or lots of gifts? Give a two year old a bunch of balloons and you’ve got a happy kid. She dragged those balloons around for most of the day. Thank goodness they were tied to a sandbag, or she would have quickly become a very unhappy two year old.

She also received several nice gifts, including some beautiful clothes that she looked at, shouted “No!” and then promptly threw on the ground. Not sure if she was expecting toys or had issues with the style. (Personally, I liked the clothing. Our friends and family have good taste.)

Cordy did pretty well with the small crowd of people invading her personal space. She got a little wild at times, and ate way too much cake and ice cream, resulting in a severe tummy ache and GI distress the remainder of the evening. Poor thing – she kept asking me, “can you turn my tummy off, mommy?”

I think the party went well, even if it was small and disorganized. And I hope I’ve once again learned not to hold birthday parties at our house. Maybe I’ll remember that for Cordy’s party in September.

(And I wish I had more birthday pictures, but I was so busy keeping things running I didn’t take any. Now I’m at the mercy of my relatives sharing their photos with me.)

Filed Under: Cordy, holidays, love, Mira