I Feel Real

Ok Blog Readers, all 17 of you...
I will be featured tomorrow on my friend's blog, Allison Dameron. She actually lives right down the road from me, and we like to share crafting ideas and sweat. Yep, you heard me. Sweat. We are morning mommies, meaning we run in the pitch black ungodly hour of 6am, because we are training for a 5k in December. We also like running. That much.

So, Allison has started a new "Mommies with Swagger" post for her blog. She features a different mommy each week. I feel like a REAL BLOGGER now!! I am actually a "guest" on her blog! I am so EXCITED I COULD MAKE 40 MILLION WREATHS...that's how excited I AM! If you think I am a nerd, just wait until you get sucked into this blog world, too. I have always been secretly envious of those blessed guest posters on coveted blogs like Nesting Place, Living with Lindsay, etc.
Guess what? Allison is now a coveted blog!

Here is a little video to show you how we roll....

F is for Fall and Football

For those of you who don't know, I am trying to live on a budget. This shouldn't be something new, because it is important to be good stewards of what you are given, but it didn't really hit home until last year. Specifically, September 21, 2009, when another life was entrusted in my care. Yeah. I'd really like to be able to go on a trip with him to Disney World without having to sell a vital organ.
I inherited my mom's love of seasons and decorating. I remember my childhood home mirroring each phase of the calendar year. Christmas is my absolute favorite, but fall is becoming a close second.
Fall means slightly cooler temperatures, pumpkin perks, and friday night football. There is nothing better than sitting on a shaky bleacher, holding your child as he watches his dad call out plays. The lights are bright on the field, and time seems to stand still.
I tried to decorate this year without buying anything. I have several fall items in my possession already: a few pillows, a tin sign that says "blessing", iron-looking shapes of pumpkins that hold candles, the list goes on. As all of you know, I have a slightly borderline obsession with wreaths. What better than a fall wreath?

I searched the web for awhile, then I decided to be original. What does fall bring to my mind? One word. (or is it two sorta?) FOOTBALL

I am a Pirate fan, so anything football must have hints of purple and gold. Hence, the football wreath was born.



I wish I had more pictures of my fall decorating, but I am in the midst of some sorta insane projects. once again, still sticking with a budget and dollar store finds. I will update soon!

Penciled Names

My students survived their first day of clinical...

And so did I.

I showed up right at 8am, armed with a dozen HOT glazed doughnuts and a dozen football-shaped creme-filled ones. The students were already sitting around several tables pushed together in the cafeteria, notebooks in front of them and pens in hand. I'm pretty sure I could have given a better first impression, but what they saw was a true portrayal of myself: slightly sweaty on the bridge of my nose, hair quickly turning more towards frizz city than polished bob from the outdoor walk, and arms laden down with insulin's rival: pure sugar.

One of the students said, "So, I guess you are the instructor?", in what I like to think was a slightly hopeful tone. I replied, "Yes! And I'm guessing you are my clinical group?". For some reason, this made everyone laugh. Yep, we're all a little nervous and on edge this morning!

I sat down and made sure we addressed the most important priority: the doughnut distribution. They went smack dab in the middle of the table and helped to calm everyone down a tad. I had the students start by introducing themselves, sharing what personal background they wished, and telling us why they chose nursing. Not a one said their reason was to make alot of money, so at least we have that misconception straight. Almost every one of them had experienced what I call a "life moment" that veered them towards this career. One had a sick child. Another was a hairdresser that loved making others beautiful but wanted to help fix other ailments besides a bad perm. Of course, I had the ones that had immediate family members in the healthcare field, and they wanted to follow in their footsteps. Finally, a few already had degrees but wanted to incorporate that knowledge into hands on patient care. I was encouraged.

I asked them what they were nervous about or not looking forward to. Some said trachs, others vomiting, still others what goes on below the belly button. I alluded to the fact that I wasn't too keen on these things either, but we would get through it together. See, these are just periphereal things. They don't define a patient. They don't make them any less human. Once you look past to actually view the patient, you find someone like you. A mother. Father. Great-Grandmother. World War II veteran. Teacher. School bus driver. Nurse.

We toured the hospital to get grounded, then I let them fly on their own to traverse the hospital again for a scavenger hunt. I used this time to orient myself to the unit. This unit is designed like a wagon wheel. The center of the wheel is the nurses station. The spokes are the hallways. I probably walked around it 15 times, occasionally doing a 180 and going the other direction just trying to find the conference room.

I then assigned the same patient to each student; they looked up multiple pieces of information for their assessment sheets. We discussed this patient and stumbled through the necessary paperwork. Then came the nursing diagnoses. And the care plans. And the realization that I didn't have the reference book. I ended up going to a totally different floor to find an old nursing diagnosis handbook. Flipping through it, I stumbled on a page marker. It was a laminated reference sheet for common problems and possible nursing diagnoses/interventions. At the bottom was a yellow sticker with two words:

Gina Woody.

If you read my previous post, you will remember that name. I flipped to the inside cover and saw a penciled name again "Woody".

I was instantly a first year student again. I remembered feeling unsure of myself and overwhelmed. I also remember feeling excited and anxious to have the pieces come together so the patient's story made sense.

As I walked the book marked by my favorite instructor back to the unit, I realized two things.

1. I was passing on the art of my profession, which had been handed to me by an instructor years ago. I was part of a legacy.

2. I am and always will be a student; I'd like to think one of these students will someday find a book, with my last name penciled in the front, and carry it back to their unit of a nervous first year clinical group.

White Watches and Starched Skirts

I've never liked watches. Something about having a piece of metal or leather constricting my wrist made me feel claustrophobic. I'd wear a set of pearl earrings and feel complete. When I started nursing school, I still didn't want to wear a watch. I knew I would need that second hand to help with counting respirations and pulses, but I tried everything I could think of to avoid that constricting circle. I really don't remember what my solution was, but I do remember a specific white, leather band watch with a large face. Several nursing emblems peppered the face, adding subtle color and proclaiming "I am a Nurse, and darn it I'm proud of it".

This watch belonged to one of my nursing instructors, Mrs. Gina Woody. I had already been through several semesters of nursing school, and I was placed in her clinical my senior year. This clinical was right before the last semester, and our clinical days were spent on an intermediate unit with challenging patients. Mrs. Woody would wear a starched white uniform dress, white hose, white shoes, a barney-purple jacket, and a thick white watch. Her hair was always styled perfectly, and she was the kind of woman I hoped to be like when I was older.

There was something about that watch. Just like its hands steadily tick and move forward, so she would lead us through our day. She paid attention to the details, and she instilled in me a desire to bring order and excellence to my future nursing career. Her starched uniform showed she was proud to be a nurse, and this pride was infectious. Because of her, I chose to begin my nursing career on that same floor.

Tomorrow, I will meet 10 first-level nursing students from our local community college. I will be their clinical instructor for the next few months, and I will be their first impression of this foreign world. Will I fade into the back of their memory 5 years from now, or will they remember me as their cheerleader?

I truly am excited, because I will help them lay their foundations that will carry them through the rest of their program, career, and hopefully life.

We are both new at this. I've never been a clinical instructor before. They've never been through a full day of clinical.

I will show up with donuts, to help ease their nerves a bit, prove I'm human, and hopefully wake them up.

Oh, and a cute watch.

I Never Knew....

I never knew I'd recognize your handsome, scrunchy face
Like someone I had seen before in different times and place
I never dreamed I'd lay awake and watch you drift asleep
But each sweet sigh that leads to rest makes memories to keep

I never knew I'd see my nose on anyone but me
Or share my sweaty feet and palms that could fill up the sea
I never dreamed I'd have the strength to wave at you good-bye
Yet now to see you laugh and learn makes me want to try

I never knew it'd be so hard to watch you as you grow
Those diaper bags are not quite full with less for me to tow
I never dreamed I'd miss the day when bottles were my lot
But now you'd rather try new things like fries and tater-tots

I never knew you'd drift asleep alone inside your bed
You learned to put to rest your thoughts that swam around your head
I never dreamed there'd be a day you didn't need me there
But I always know your little life is in the Master's care

I never knew someone so small could make a mark so big
Without your words but in your love, you've taught me how to live
I never dreamed how big or wide a parent's love can be
But you, my gift, have shown me of the Father's love for me

I love you, Jonah Riley, and I look for more birthdays
Where we can sit and reminisce of funny, childlike ways
I wish for you that as you grow you stay my little boy
For I never dreamed and never knew that I could know such Joy.

Anna Sams
September 21, 2010
First Birthday

ONEderful World of Disney

If you had asked me a year ago what the theme of Jonah's birthday would be, I would answer with this long list:
1. A fall party, because it is September
2. Pumpkins would decorate the steps leading from the deck to the yard.
3. A cotton candy machine and popcorn maker are somewhere in the mix
4. Tin tubs filled with iced drinks in the corner
5. Mini pumpkins with each child's name in gold written across it, and a plaid bow around the stem would be the party favors.
6. A pony.


Wait. Rewind. A pony?

Yeah, I can't believe that list myself. It sounds like Martha Stewart met the circus and signed a contract. If you are interested, there are a few places around that rent ponies by the hour. They will even bring them to your house. I would know; I checked.

I came to my senses around January of this year. Jonah was becoming his own person, and I could sense his likes and dislikes. I also realized it was either throw the "Martha Stewart Circus Party" or send your child to college. I chose the latter.

I grew up with special-themed parties, which is another post altogether. Because we are such slack parents, our little Jonah has a repertoire of children's shows he enjoys. In fact, we've been known to watch "his" shows even when he is not around, not even realizing it is intended for a toddler audience. He has a fondness for "Handy Manny", but his whole face beams when Mickey's character from the Mickey Mouse Clubouse fills up the whole screen. It goes a little like this:

Hello Boys and Girls!! Wanna Play? (Jonah nods and breaks into a huge grin)
Well ALLLLLRIGHTT!!! (Smile is showing teeth now)
Oh! I almost forgot the magic words! (brief troubled expression by Jonah)
Can you say them with me?? (troubled expression turns to relief...with another smile)
Meeska, Mooska, Mickeyyyyy Mouseee! (arms in the air, fists balled, bouncing on knees)

Cue music while the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse appears...

Cue theme song while characters march in....

Cue birthday theme!!!!! How could I not do a Mickey Mouse Clubhouse theme?? I really believe he thinks Mickey is really talking to him every morning. He loves music, and this show has music and sound effects galore.

We made our own invitations, with a little poem on the inside, inviting the mouseketeers to the "Sams' Clubhouse".

I made Mickey Mouse hats for all the children and lined them up on the mantle. I can't take all the credit, because the Disney website had patterns for everything imaginable. Each child was given a Mickey Mouse/Donald Duck souvenir cup stuffed with a Mickey and Friends puzzle. I added tags to each to help identify which cup was for which Mouseketeer. A lady from my work made a delicious sheet cake and Mickey-shaped "smash cake". We had pretzels and goldfish available for munching, and my dependable Southern Living drink tub was brimming with miniature boxes of apple juice and water. Hotdogs and hamburgers were grilled for the family later, with another round of cake for almost all involved!







The decorations were simple, and I had my sister on hand to monitor my decorating frenzy. Never underestimate the power of paper streamers from the dollar store and free Mickey stickers in the mail. The two together can combine to make a slightly tacky yet cute impression. I used my resources and covered over an old roofing sign from a few months ago. In case anyone got lost, the big letters of "Sams' Clubhouse" on white posterboard would lead the way to the front door. Of course, I had to do a wreath, which was courtesy of the dollar store. I loved it! Finally, we all had matching t-shirts. Dorky, I know, but a must.





Jonah was excited and energetic despite lacking his precious full naptimes. I believe he inherited some of my flair for the dramatic, and he thoroughly enjoyed being the center of attention. He ate his cake with gusto, and he played with his guests like a gentleman. He would occasionally look down at his shirt that had Mickey Mouse posing and the name "Jonah Riley" underneath. He would ooh and ahh at Mickey, almost as if he couldn't believe he was really there. Any gift that had a mouse silhouette received special attention. He would point his hands and reach for anything Mickey-like, all the while oohing and aahing.









Despite feeling exhausted only an hour into the festivities, I know we have created a special memory. You only turn one once, and no amount of dollar store tacky decorations will ever take away from the love that was evident in our home that day.

I'm sorta ashamed to say that I'm already thinking about the next birthday party.

Cheesy Chariots

Remember the opening scene of the movie "Chariots of Fire"? The runners legs blurring together, donned in white and kicking up foam? The music growing intensity yet maintaining the heartbeat of perseverance?



I had it on my Ipod, for my first 5k (ever), at the Ayden Collard Festival.
Since we are being honest, I am going to unveil my innermost secrets. I am that kind of girl who thought running was ridiculously insane, unnatural, and unattainable. Yet, I always admired runners. There is something about using your body, in all its glorious imperfections, to blaze a trail through challenges. I started by walking/running. I'd run (read: plod/jog) for about a minute, then walk 2. Needless to say, I could never imagine running WITHOUT STOPPING...I mean, who does that???



As much as I hate to admit it, I seriously was inspired by my playlist and good ole Chariots of Fire. I purposefully arranged my songs so that I would have transition moments, and Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" preceeded the epic "Chariots of Fire" music. I couldn't have planned it better, for just as the dum-dum-dum dum-dum-dum dum-dum-dum DUM-DUM-DUM-DUM-DUMMM-DUMMMMMMM started, I see Patrick and Jonah on the horizon. Silly me, I thought I only had 0.5 miles left. Yeah, more like a little over 1 left.

Note to self, get Nike+ system working again to help with distance/pace/etc.

I finished my first 5k, and although I was slow, I was steady. I didn't walk, and I plodded forward like a stubborn third grader. I focused on breathing, and I realized at the end that I had short-changed myself. I had way more to give, but that's what happens when you are cautious, new, and unsure.




For the sake of you veteran runners, I will make a list of what I learned that you can laugh about secretly (since you already knew all this).
1. There truly is a "runner's euphoria"
2. Races are addicting
3. The people on the course are just as encouraging as the ones on the sidelines
4. Sometimes, it is the mental, not the physical that holds you back
5. I need to know my pace/mileage during the race (hence the Nike+ making an appearance again)
6. To succeed, forget the other peoples' times/speeds/accomplishments. You can only perfect/improve yourself.
7. Running makes other things move alot quicker....two words: porta potty
8. You get what you put into it (need to be more disciplined, add in cross-training, and eat right!)


No stellar times, but I completed the goal I set out to do. I also got to sweat with two other Ironmommies who are awesome women. We ran with each other to the finish line, so that no one crossed the line by themselves.



I'm hooked, and the playlist will probably get cheesier as the pace quickens and mileage lengthens. In the meantime, it's off to the chariot races!!!