Maybe The Guess Jeans Weren’t Worth It

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year!” I love hearing that song on the Staples commercial as the dad tosses school supplies into the cart while his two children look like they’re walking to their execution. Back-to-school also means back to routine, and this family likes routine.

We’ve already received Cordy’s school supplies list in the mail, and I’m amazed at all the stuff she needs to have for the first day. Glue sticks, hand soap, box of tissues, notebooks, liquid glue, baby wipes, backpack — and this is just for Pre-Kindergarten!

Of course, thanks to all of the Miracle Gro and bovine growth hormone we feed her, she also needs a whole new wardrobe for the school year, too. (Amazon child.) While I am once again employed, the paychecks have only started to roll in, meaning they’re flying out to pay bills just as quickly. But she needs the clothing, so she’ll have it.

When I was a kid, money was always tight at back-to-school time, too. I wanted the “cool” sneakers that the popular kids had, and I resented that my mom fought me on every fashionable clothing choice. Back-to-school shopping was always a battle, and not just for clothing — who wants a no-name folder organizer when you could have the hip Trapper Keeper in all the fashionable colors?

My mom eventually thought of a way to end the battle. She told me at the beginning of August how much money I had for clothing and supplies, and I could buy anything up to that amount. The clothing budget was kept separate from the supplies budget, and anything that the teacher required us to have (like the box of tissues) was not included.

This meant I had to learn to use my money wisely. I could have a few new items that were high-fashion, or I could shop for cheaper items that maybe weren’t as cool. It only took one season for me to learn my lesson: I blew the majority of my fall budget on a pair of Guess jeans, and while those jeans were awesome, I couldn’t wear them everyday. I got tired of wearing last year’s worn jeans and tops, all because I had to have that one pair of incredibly expensive jeans.

We’re not at a point where Cordy cares about her clothing. She rarely notices what she wears, and almost never complains about what clothing I pick for her. So until that point, I’ll continue to do my best to buy as much as I can for the least amount possible, shopping sales, consignment stores, and accepting hand-me-downs, all while still trying to give her some sense of style. Eventually, she’ll want a say, and at that time I’ll present her with the rule I followed. She’ll be given a budget, and can pick what she needs as long as it fits in her budget.

Cordy really has no sense of money yet, either, although not for lack of trying to teach her. She is starting to learn that we can’t always buy her what she wants, and that some things cost more money than what we have. I’m sure we’ll have that money talk when we go pick out a backpack for her this year. She always seems drawn to the most expensive blinged-out backpack, when I know she’ll drag it on the ground, get it filthy, and spill something sticky inside of it before the first month is over. A simple backpack is better because I know the abuse it will take.

Do you set a limit on your child’s back-to-school spending? Do you have a fixed amount, or do you allow some wiggle-room in picking out supplies and clothing? I’m curious to know how other parents handle the back-to-school routine, since we’re still fairly new at this.

This post is part of the PBN blog blast, sponsored by Capital One and their new Moneywi$e e-Learning tool, designed to teach families about financial responsibility.

And I’ll have you know I wore those Guess jeans until they had holes in the knees, and then made shorts out of them and wore them until they were no longer decent clothing. I think I even considered cutting off the little triangle patch and keeping it after that.



Missing Entire Days at a Time

Thank you for all of the congrats in my last post. I received my official certificate in the mail yesterday and now need to go shopping for a frame. (And received my diploma the day before. Nice timing!)

Yesterday was my first day working with the full duties of a nurse, and I was thrilled to get my permissions to the medication cart, to administer medications, and officially perform assessments. I can’t wait until I’m ready to get fully involved in my first birth.

The biggest downside to all of this, however, is adjusting to not seeing my family everyday. I currently work 7am-7:30pm, requiring me to leave the house at 6am. I don’t get back to our home until 8:30pm. By that point, both Cordy and Mira are asleep for the night, and I leave in the morning before they wake up. If I have two or three days grouped together, that means I go days without seeing my daughters.

I know there are other moms and dads who have to do this on a regular basis. I’m not used to it yet. Honestly, it makes me cry some days. I’ve spent the last two years almost entirely at home with my kids, and I’ve grown used to our routine together. I like seeing them everyday, eating lunch together, and going to the park sometimes. I’m aware of how incredibly lucky I’ve been the last two years.

And Cordy will be starting full-day pre-K soon, so she won’t even be home for most of the day during the week. Mira will also be starting preschool two days a week. But it’s that whole not seeing them at all for 3 days a week that really bothers me.

Today I attended a training seminar, and as a result I was home by dinnertime. I walked in the door and Mira’s eyes widened as she saw me. “Mah-mi! Mah-mi!” (yes, we have “m” sounds from her now!) she screamed as she ran towards me and tackled my legs. She nuzzled her face into my legs, her voice quieter now as she repeated, “Awwwww, muh mah-mi…”

“Mama, where have you been?” Cordy asked from the other side of the room. “I missed you, mama.”

All at once I feel incredibly loved and piercingly guilt-stricken.

To add to the guilt, I’m often so exhausted lately that I can barely keep up with my two pixie sticks. No amount of caffeine can give me the energy I need to provide the attention they want from me.

I know this won’t last forever. Once my orientation is complete, I’ll switch to night shift and work 7pm-7:30am, allowing me to sleep while Cordy is in school during the day and wake around 3pm to spend time with the girls in the early evening.

Until then, I’ll continue to be jealous that Aaron gets to spend so much time with our daughters right now, and remind him to give them as much attention as possible and enjoy those moments together. Never take that time for granted.



I’m Even Signing My Checks This Way Now

Just call me Christina, RN.


I passed! The results appeared sometime late this afternoon, and I was surprised to see them so quickly. (But you can bet I checked three times this morning, and six times during the afternoon.) I can officially call myself a registered nurse, and add “RN” after my name, anytime, anywhere.

And no, I can’t tell you what that strange rash on your hand is. Or if I can, I’m probably just looking it up on WebMD.

This also means when I work tomorrow, I can wear the lovely necklace that my incredibly sweet and way-too-thoughtful friend Karen sent me:


Yay!



Wishing For A Cheat Sheet

Early this morning I took what was perhaps the hardest and most frightening test of my life. At 8:00am, I arrived at a plain-looking office building on the other side of Columbus to take the NCLEX, also known as the licensing exam that is the final step to adding those little “RN” initials after my name.

I read through the introductory materials the receptionist handed me, then had my ID checked, was fingerprinted and photographed, stored my purse, contents of my pockets (yes, I had to turn out my pockets) and watch (no watch allowed) in a locker, and stood at the door waiting to take my test. I was then fingerprinted again at the door, had my ID checked again, and was then seated at my computer workstation, where video cameras tracked my every move and microphones recorded every sound. If I wasn’t nervous before, I certainly was after all of that.

Truthfully, I was nervous. Despite studying for it here and there, I felt completely unprepared for this exam. It’s an incredible amount of material to know all at once, and while I had planned out a study schedule over several weeks, life got in the way and very little scheduled studying happened. My hands trembled as I clicked through the tutorial.

For those who aren’t nurses, here’s how the test works: it’s a computerized adaptive test, meaning it changes based on how you answer each question. The first question is a mid-level question in difficulty. If you answer it correctly, it gives you a harder question next; if you miss it, you’ll get an easier or equal difficulty question. It continues to track the level of competency you’re at with each question, until it reaches a point where it is certain, with 95% accuracy, that you are either at a minimum level of competency to be a nurse, or will not reach that level by the end of the test.

There are 265 questions maximum, but the test can shut off anywhere after the minimum of 75 questions. In other words, the test keeps going until it knows for sure if you’re passing or failing. (A few unlucky ones get randomly selected to take the entire test, even if they’ve achieved competency early on, for control purposes.)

From the very beginning, I felt I was in over my head. The questions seemed to pick apart my knowledge and focus on all of my weak points. Medications I didn’t know appeared before me, with no hints as to what the med was for. I was asked several questions where I had to choose the patient I would assign highest priority to, when each answer seemed just as high a priority as the next.

And I had several of the “alternate style questions” – essentially questions that aren’t your typical multiple choice, choose one answer type – and several of those were the “choose all that apply” questions. I hate those questions. If you miss one of the correct answers, you miss the entire question.

Where are the medication math questions? I wondered. I’m really good at math! As the question numbers gradually creeped up, I started to panic, realizing I was answering without being sure on more questions than I felt comfortable with. I got closer to the magic #75, and I silently tried to will the computer to keep giving me more questions so I had a better chance to show my competency. I know I can prove I’m a good nurse, just let me keep answering questions and get to the ones I really know!

Then it happened. I answered question #75, and the screen blinked and turned blue. After a few seconds of wondering if I somehow summoned the Blue Screen of Death, the grey background appeared again, with the words, “Congratulations! You’ve finished the NCLEX!”

NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

I sat there unsure of what to do next. There’s no way I did well enough to warrant the shut-off at 75 questions. But I also couldn’t face the possibility that I bombed the test so badly that it determined me a complete failure at only 75 questions. The trembling in my hands appeared again as I answered the demographic exit survey questions and meekly raised my hand to call the testing assistant into the room to let me leave. I felt sick as I gathered up my belonging and walked to my car.

Just to add to the suspense, I won’t know my results for a day or two. So instead I sit here and replay the test in my head, wondering if I will keep my job if I failed. If I do fail, I can retake the test in 45 days, but they might not want to wait that long for me.

I’m normally a fairly laid-back person. But I’m a nervous wreck right now. The Board of Nursing should run ads on their license check web page – they’d be making a fortune from my refresh rate right now.



I’m a Little Runaway

(Haiku Friday is once again hosted at Janny’s little slice of the internet this week!)

So, lately it’s pretty obvious that I’m overwhelmed. I’m still not used to working full-time away from home, I’ve had a big project with SavvySource that took more time than I expected, and Cordy and Mira are home for two weeks before school starts for the year.

Add in financial stress from discovering that Cordy’s summer camp, which I was led to believe would be mostly covered by respite funding, actually will result in a $1300 bill for us because respite will only cover about $120 of the cost. We don’t exactly have $1300 sitting around, and if we did, we’d be applying it to the social skills class Cordy’s psychologist is recommending.

Oh, and I’m taking my license exam to officially become a Registered Nurse on Monday. Oy. I’m quickly turning into a ball of stress with a short fuse, and that’s not good for me or my family.

It’s enough to makes me want to disappear and forget my stress for a little while.

And so we are running away. At least for a weekend. (Longer would be nice, but I’ll take what I can get.) We’re joining the legions of geeks descending on Indianapolis for Gen Con, a gaming geek convention. Aaron will be doing interviews with companies for his website, while I’ll be talking with the few game designers who are featuring games for preschool kids. And I’ll be doing lots of zoning out, too. And looking at people dressed in pretty costumes, as well as unfortunate costumes. Because it’s always a mixed bag – some people dress for their body type, and some people are 50-year-old men with stubble dressed in Sailor Moon costumes, complete with heels and lipstick. *shudder*

I’m hopeful this small escape will help me center myself and prepare me to take on the world again. If only Gen Con offered free massages by guys who looked like Johnny Depp.

How do YOU deal with overwhelming stress? I’m always looking for new ideas.