To My RICN Family

When you work closely with a group of women (and a few men) over the span of 10 1/2 years, they become more than mere coworkers that share a time clock. They become family. Not "like a family", but family.

Over the years the family I acquired in the Regional Intensive Care Nursery (aka The RICN) has shared in the Kodak moments of my life: three high-school graduations, two college graduations, an engagement and a wedding, many birthdays, Christmas's and other holidays. They were in on my vacation plans, offering suggestions and sharing their own experiences. I celebrated with them as some became mothers for the first time and with those that acquired grandchildren or in-laws as weddings happened in their own families.

We shared laughter over stories of nightshift nightmares, the unwelcome effects of sugar-free gummy bears, the hazards of certain not-well-thought-out body piercings, and topics that only nurses find humor in. As we talked about our families and our children, we realized that our own children were pretty normal after all as we all shared horror stories (that of course we found quite humorous at 3:00 in the morning!) of discipline, lack of sleep, and ER visits.

Laughter with friends. Ah yes, but there were tears also. I was comforted with a hug from a daylight nurse as we gave report and I broke down after the death of my grandpa. After a horrible night of watching monitors and finally having to tell the parents that there was nothing else that we could do, my coworkers and I gave each other support. We allowed each other the time and space to process the difficult and to understand that we may do it differently from each other. We helped each other as we prepared a family for the last time holding their baby before support was withdrawn. With each other, we could be strong.

Fear of doing something wrong. Fear of flying. Fear of the unknown when the Labor Room alarm sounds and adrenalin kicks in and you just go. Fear of not knowing what to say. I had these fears. But I had family in the RICN with faith. When I had to fly for the first time and I just wanted to either hide in the locker room in fetal position, throw up or both, one of them wrapped her arms around me and prayed. She knew I didn't just need Dramamine. She knew I was on the verge of panic. Her prayers got me through that first flight and the ones after that. When I stood with a Nurse Practitioner at the warmer in the delivery room, I could look into her eyes and know that she was praying silently as was I. Family+Faith=Fears Conquered

Last week I met with a few of these wonderful women. How many places can you resign from and they give you gifts and eat a delightful dinner with you? I was so blessed by the love I felt, and continue to feel, from this place called the RICN. You know, it's not a perfect place to work. It has it's moments that make you want to scream. After all, it is mostly women there and we do become like sisters, like family and yes, sometimes families don't get along. But in the end, we are there for each other when it matters. We have each other's backs.

Like family.

Thank you RICN family for growing me as a nurse, for letting me be myself and loving me anyway. Thanks for the laughter, the tears, the crazy stories, the gifts you've given. Not just physical gifts (which I love by the way and when I drink the coffee you gave me in this beautiful mug, I think of you!) but the gifts that can't be seen.


I love you all!
Dianne

Patience With Waiting

Walking to my car, I balanced my bag, bottled water and a travel mug of hazelnut-laced coffee. My cupholder was blocked with an assortment of Christmas CDs so I set the mug on the lidded storage compartment nestled between the seats. A thought flitted through my head.

"You are going to spill it." 

To which I responded, "No, no I won't. I'll get it as soon as I get in. No worries."

"Uh-huh." (My inner voice is smug, a little too smug.)

I respond, a little smugly as well, "We'll see about that."

But then, I got distracted. My car was blanketed in fluffy white snow and I had to go back into the house for the broom. As I brushed the snow off, shivering as much of it blew back onto me, I looked forward to that cup of hot coffee.

Imagine my utter disappointment as I watched my steaming cup get bumped by my clumsy elbow as I hurried to get in my car and out of the cold. Then imagine the tears as it glurged out of my cup and soaked into the carpet.

(I know "glurged" isn't technically a word, but in a coffee deficient moment it becomes a word.)

With lightning quick reflexes that would do any superhero proud, I grabbed the cup like I was grabbing at the last lifeline thrown at me as I floundered in the ocean. Left with less than half a cup, I was not so desperate as to try and soak the liquid from the carpet. I did have a plan though. On my way home from my meeting, I would stop at a Deep Creek Lake coffee shop that I sometimes treat myself to.

Fast forward a few hours and I found myself pulling into the parking lot of Trader's Coffeehouse. Ah yes, I was glad to be there. Looking at the featured flavors of the day I decided on Maple Walnut. I went to the counter and ordered, noting the odd eyebrow frown on the barista. It took just a second or two but then she said, "That was yesterday's flavor. Today is Blueberry Crumble." She must have seen my face fall because she quickly said, "Oh, I can add maple flavoring to your cup and you can add the featured Guatemalan coffee."

I agreed. I wasn't ready for a second cup of coffee for the day to go down the drain.

May I say that the wait was worth it? That spilling my coffee, although quite annoying, did end up as a blessing? That even misreading the menu was okay because I still got maple flavoring in my coffee?

Let's fast forward again....to this morning. I needed to get tires on my car, a chore I avoid as long as possible because I never know what I want and all tires look the same to me. I am pretty much useless when it comes to this kind of thing.

 I went in armed and ready though; I fully expected to have to wait awhile. While I knew the reading table would be loaded (see above photo), it would be along the lines of Popular Mechanics, Sports Illustrated and Consumer Report. I added a spot of color and womanly interest (see photo below).

And what, I ask you, could make this wait all worth it (not counting the new tires)?
A Gingerbread Latte certainly makes me smile. Time to browse a magazine? That makes me smile too.

As my day winds down, my head starts to nod, and I am already thinking about tomorrow. It will be another water bottle, coffee mug balancing morning. I'll be okay though. This week, I learned that being patient and waiting, neither of which I am good at, can sometimes bring its own reward.

Love,
Dianne

Clippings and Collections

In the pre-Pinterest world, I enjoyed browsing favorite magazines. I would clip articles on:
~how-to garden in a shady place
~ how-to garden in a sunny place
~the best ways to launder my whites
~places I'd like to visit someday like the Cylburn Arboretum in Baltimore
~18 different ways to use fresh greenery at Christmas
~pillows anyone?
~ ideas on how to be creative when hanging curtains, hanging pictures, how to hang ten while surfing.

Never mind that last part. I don't surf. Unless you count surfing the web which I partake in on occasion, such as looking up "hang ten" to make sure that was an actual term and I wasn't just making it up or pulling it from a dream.

You see, I found a file box this evening in my sewing corner and after I blew the dust off of it, I dug eagarly into the contents. Not only did I find potential craft ideas telling me how to customize my lampshades but I also found some projects involving papier-mache, old bottles and vintage photographs. Oh yes, this was getting good.

In amongst the photos of what my kitchen could look like (in my dreams), I came across a Country Home April 1990 article called "High Pasture". Showcasing a stately summer home (circa 1907) on the craggy shores of Maine I remembered why I tore it from the magazine and kept it. The home whispered of a time when life was slower, simpler and seemingly more romantic. It had an Anne of Green Gables quality about it; is it any wonder I was drawn to it? 

The Pinterest appeal was with me long before it was an app on my computer. There is nothing wrong with having a dream, an inspiration. A pinsperation if you will. I may never get around to having my gardens look like the shady havens I clipped and kept. I most likely won't have shelves filled with  color-coordinated office supplies and those cute little boxes while school-age children sit beneath at tidy desks happily doing their homework. As for the Attic Retreat complete with dormers and a cozy hammock strung beneath the eaves for the rainy Saturday afternoon...let's just say I have a hammock and I have an attic and leave it at that. 

 I am a dreamer. That's not a bad thing. I don't think Pinterest or magazine clippings make me feel like less of a woman. They inspire me to make the most of what I have been blessed with. Yes, I have had those creative what-in-the-world-was-that-supposed-to-be moments. 

"Oh, you got that on Pinterest?"

"Yes."

"It's umm, well, it's quite, ummm, interesting."

It was supposed to be a cow. A black angus cow. Although lion did enter my head and I tried to talk Ryan into having a Lion Cake for his birthday. After the face fell off, he tells me, "Mom, I didn't mean a standing up cow, just a flat cow on top of my cake." 

Ohhhh, now he tells me. 

But.....back to what I was saying. I like having ideas and tapping into other's creativity. The key for me is this:

Be inspired, but don't be disappointed. Life is fleeting just like the hours in my day. Keep my expectations ultra-realistic, my dreams a little unrealistic and let them meet in the middle. And I have had to learn to laugh at myself. A lot. 

Say, speaking of laughter, did I mention I have an old tin stuffed with my favorite funny cartoons? I could call that my Tin-terest. 

Love,

Dianne 

Cookbook Conundrum

I have this thing about books. 

I like them. 

It's that simple. 

  But "simple" becomes complicated when too many books try to take over. 

This is the case with my cookbooks. 

In these pictures, what you are seeing is most, but not all, 

of a cookbook collection that has accumulated over 26 years. 

I have my favorites, like the original Cherry Glade cookbook. 

The page with Markel Miriam's Chocolate Cake is spattered with cocoa stains and buttermilk and the cover is a bit battered (meaning it is beat up a little and it has literal batter on it!). 

The kids call it "the green cookbook" and I am not allowed to ever get rid of it

even though the black spiral thingie holding it together is coming out. 

I think this is part of it's charm. 

I also have the Cherry Glade Cookbook, Volume 2.

The cover on it?

Completely torn off, or should I say, "Gently worn off with good use."? 

 The page with the brownies is just about as bad as the chocolate cake page in the "green cookbook". 

Then there is the classic Mennonite Community Cookbook 

that was my mom's and somehow I ended up with it. 

I don't think I just took it without asking, but I do have a cookbook obsession. 

Mom, if you want it back, just ask. Or you can just borrow it. For a day. 

It's funny, but really, about the only recipe I use out of this one is for Strawberry Shortcake. 

That's it. 

I have a problem. 

So, yesterday I decided to sort through this cookbook conundrum.

I did manage to weed out a few that I don't use that much (or at all). 

One of them was called "Breakfast In Bed". Now, Leo doesn't use a cookbook for breakfast dishes so if I were to have breakfast in bed using a recipe from this book, I'd be the one making it and if I was the one making it, I wouldn't go back to bed to eat it. 

Goodbye cookbook. 

Ah, that was liberating. 

As I sorted, I did look through some of the pages to see if I was going to actually utilize the book.

In a Pampered Chef "Season's Best" booklet, I found a recipe for BBQ Chicken Taquitos. 

I had all the ingredients except for the carrots (no big loss there) and it called for Smoky BBQ Rub which I bought from my sister and hardly ever use because in reality, I don't cook enough from a recipe to figure out how to use it best. 

(Tell me again why I have so many cookbooks?!?)

In the midst of sorting cookbooks, I paused and actually cooked. From a recipe. 

Ah, that was liberating too, in it's own way. 

Have I mentioned that I am a very distractible person when it comes to cleaning, sorting, organizing?  

I am. 

Very.

It takes me forever to get anything done. 

But it was good!

I did manage, in the end, to get rid of a few cookbooks. I cleaned off a shelf and rearranged a little. 

Cookbooks represent family dinners, time spent together eating something "made from scratch".

It's a good thing.

But too much of a good thing and I don't know where to start. 

Cleaning out is good too. 

I may even be motivated to cook something else. 

The menu for tonight:

Kraft Macaroni and Cheese 

Just kidding. 

There is one thing more exasperating than a wife who can cook and won't, and that's a wife who can't cook and will. ~Robert Frost

Love,

Dianne

To My Wootsie

This week it was my firstborn's birthday. I was 21 when she was born; now she is two years older than that. Can I just turn back time? Just a little? I remember when she was born I said, "Wow, when I turn 30, she'll be 9 years old!" Now I am a year or two (or ten-ish) past the age of thirty and I am still saying, "Wow!".

So, I was thinking about Adrienne quite often today. Here is what I decided: 

If she was a color, she'd be a jewel-toned blue hue.

She's classy, sassy and sometimes gassy. (Sorry, dear girl but it did rhyme.) Rich in personality and invitingly warm she still strives to maintains her cool regardless of the situation. From another perspective, the BH&G website color personality quiz called her "Maple Gold Yellow, the quintessential warm and inviting hue, gets a sassy spin with the maple gold palette. Inspired by autumn leaves, the palette pairs perfectly with rich neutrals for a luxe yet natural look. Or take the palette for a Moroccan spin by teaming it with daring greens, blues, and reds."

If Adrienne were a flower, she'd be a daisy which to me represents innocence, loyalty and purity. Yet, these flowers are also a bit wild, growing where they may on hillsides, rocky ledges and in ditches by the side of the road. Resilient and growing in spite of the environment that surrounds them. Sound like anyone you know?

Or she could be Queen Anne’s Lace which is a summer wild flower. She grows along the sides of highways, roads, bike trails. She grows up embankments, in fields and vacant lots. She seems particularly comfortable growing where the earth has been disturbed or affected by people, and the soil is not very rich. (http://www.flowersociety.org/queen-annes-lace-plant-study.html). That's my Adrienne. She thrives in situations and deals with difficult people with dignity and grace.

 If Adrienne were an animal, what would she be? Hmmm, I don't know about this one. We call her "Wootsie" which is Pennsylvania Dutch for "little piggy", but truly this girl of mine is not a pig. She is not messy like a pig in any way, shape or form (except when she eats.) (Just kidding.) She took an on-line quiz to see what kind of animal she is and this was the result:

"Whitetip Reef Shark

You may seem scary, but you are really quite a nice person. You can get somewhat angry, but you would never hurt anyone unless you were defending yourself."

Interesting. I never, ever thought of her in shark terms. But, I think this gives me an idea. A beaver...she is a beaver. I don't know what a whitetip reef shark and a beaver have in common but...a beaver. She is industrious, focused, and organized and if she has a dam to build, she will get the job done! It's funny, but even as a newborn, she made her own schedule. Eat 15 minutes on each side (yes, she was a breastfed baby) every three hours. She always has a plan, a blueprint for what needs done. Yes, a beaver. (Her teeth are much nicer though.)

My firstborn is so typically firstborn, she could've written the book. 

~extreme confidence

~ high achiever

~driven

~ self assured

~confident,

 - See more at: http://www.surfnetparents.com/1679/what-are-first-born-personality-traits/#sthash.bpf4GmCI.dpuf 

or you could just spend time with Adrienne and realize that yes, she did write the book. 

 I am a proud mama (in case you couldn't tell). I know that God knew exactly what I needed in my firstborn baby. He knew that Adrienne was the one for me.

I love you Adrienne, Wootsie, my Chickie, my Ms. Beaver.

Love,
Dianne aka Mama Beaver (who is not nearly so organized and is more like a dandelion and a scatter-brained squirrel.)

Day 1 (or Day 4) Focus on Living

November. Is is seriously November already? And not just November 1st but already November 4th going into the 5th. I had thought while it was still October that November would be a good month to try and write something every day. I'm already three days behind. Kinda like one step forward, two steps back, but here goes...

November is notorious for thankfulness and I could write about something I am thankful for each day. Or I could post some delicious holiday meal ideas to remind us that this is the season of weight gain. I could even enthrall you with my creativeness as I handcraft all manner of gifts for Christmas.

Actually, it may be more like this:
~I am thankful and I have been blessed so that may show up along the way, but I hope that is not just a November thing.

~Delicious holiday recipes? Hahahahahahahaha. I like looking at pictures of deliciously juicy turkeys displayed on platters with the right kinds of garnishes in all the right places. (Does that count?) I like thinking about making this year "the year" I actually am organized enough to make all those delicious, yet deceivingly nutritious meals with savory sauces, braided breads and 8 different kinds of pumpkin desserts involving cream cheese, caramel and pecans. I think but I don't really ever do. I usually keep to my basic recipes, tried and true, and maybe I'll share one or two with you.

~Homemade crafts for Christmas? Truly, if this was the plan, I should've started December 26, 2013. I have a scarf I started crocheting for Aaron in camouflage yarn from 7 years ago, give or take a few years. No kidding. Or I could mention the baby blanket I embroidered for Ryan that I started 11 years ago and never finished. Then there's the Nine-Patch quilt in all manner of mauve and country blue that was supposed to be Adrienne's and got as far as being a quilt top but no backing. That project is only 20 years behind schedule. Crafts for Christmas? Maybe. Maybe not.

So, it's November. Day 4. I can't go back and change Day 1, 2 or 3, but today is being lived, one moment at a time. I can choose to make the most of it. I can choose thankfulness. So, at the risk of being totally predictable, I am going to make today a  little bit of a "thankful" post. 

I am thankful that Adrienne has the day off from school. We can spend the day together and this doesn't happen to often anymore as she is busy, busy, busy with school, work and church. Even though she is sitting across from me doing homework and saying everything, and I mean everything,  aloud, I am thankful. (And I thought I talked to myself a lot!). She says this is how she stays focused. I don't know. She is bouncing from her school project, to cleaning out her document file, to emails, to I-don't-even-know-what-she-is-talking-about. She makes my head spin. 

November. It is a month of looking forward, looking ahead, at least it is for me, as I look forward to the upcoming holidays. But this year, I am going to focus on each day; at least I am going to try. Writing keeps me accountable in a way. Instead of getting crazy about what is coming up, I am going to choose, to try to live in the moment. I could focus on regrets, like wishing I'd written on November 1, 2, and 3, or wishing I had not done something, changed this or redone that, etc, etc, but I'm not. Instead, I am going to live for today, look for the positive, make the best of the negative. 

Like I said earlier, "here goes...." 

And here's a challenge. Leave me a note, a message, a post, a response, and tell me in a word (or words) what today means to you. Here's my word(s): Focus on Living instead of regret. 

Love,

Dianne

Birthday Breakdown...Let's Eat Carrots!

 What started out as a simple trip to celebrate little William's First Birthday turned into a road-trip gone wrong. We had even left on time. (That's pretty much unheard of in my world.)

About a half-hour into our trek as we drove through construction heavy Cumberland, my dear Scarlet let out a chugging sort of gasp. Leo and I looked at each other and one of us said, "Maybe we drove over a construction bump." At least that is what we told ourselves.

About another two miles slipped by as we drove when as we were driving the car lost all power. Uh-oh. Leo, maybe you just accidentally bumped it into neutral. Yeah, that's it. Denial at times like this is sometimes necessary.

We got to the side of the road, paused briefly and got the old girl restarted. Okay, this was good; let's keep going. I want birthday cake.



About a hop, skip and jump down the road, the same thing happened. The car just simply lost power. Coasting to Exit 46, we got off to a safer place and Aaron and Lisa-Anna followed in their car. See, this is what I get for sending a text this morning about the plan.
Aaron: Okay cool. Could we follow you?
Me: Sure. If you can keep up with ol' Scarlet :).
Me: And Leadfoot Leo.
Aaron: :)

Those would be known as "Famous Last Words".

Oh, and that birthday cake I was hungry for? I will just say that extra large carrots, sliced almonds, and coconut roasted peanuts really don't measure up. But hey, when you haven't eaten supper and are stranded by the side of the road, it'll do.
Ask Heather and Lisa-Anna who ate a carrot or two.

As for me, I forsook the carrots in lieu of checking out this Belvedere that sat just across the road from were we found ourselves semi-stranded. I think it was taunting us. I may be old but I least I run."

What to do, oh what to do?
I know!
I knew this Triple A Membership would came in handy at some point.
I'll be renewing 11/30/14 thank you.

 After a few phone calls that determined that it was not a battery issue and that a tow truck was en route, we waited. We saw buzzards flying overhead and Ryan said, "Something died." I thought, "No kidding." Someone suggested we take a family Christmas card photo. Ah, the memories. Ah, the wonder as we would be featured on Awkward Family Photos. Maybe next year Lisa-Anna, next year.

The tow guy got Scarlet loaded without any fuss and I apologized for the strong whiffs of skunk radiating from somewhere on my car (I must've hit one last night?) Then, after all the kids took off to get pizza in Aaron and Lisa-Anna's car, Leo and I climbed aboard the tow truck. After a brief Sheetz Run for some kind of an energy drink for our driver, Bill, and another quick pull-off to grab his remote control car steering thing which he'd left on his flatbed, we were soon headed West towards home.

Mr. Bill didn't know it but I was taking notes on my phone. You know, in case I was inspired to write something. Poor guy had no idea. It went something like this:

"Talkative mechanic. Like I wanted to know about how unsafe these Maryland bridges are that he is driving us over. Wonderful. Or Fat Boy's 30 inch pizza that he pulls his cell phone out to check for the picture his friend sent. Yeah, please do that. I feel so safe."

"Riding high in the tow truck is kinda fun. A turbo diesel no less. Only 30,000 miles on it and it's only had to be in the shop once. Yay. But hey, it's won first place in numerous parades. Kinda makes the firemen mad though, especially it it was a fireman's parade. I will definitely have to check out this rig once we reach our destination." 

 Wow. Would you just look at that! The truck. Look at the truck. (But Leo, he's first place in my book. He looked very nice tonight by the way. Just saying.)

The car was safely unloaded at the garage of our choice and we checked the car for any remaining items of value before starting to walk until our ride picked us up. We weren't worried. We had each other and a bag of carrots. It's all good.

Love,
Dianne

Anniversary Harvest

We wanted to eat cake. Really we did. A wedding cake that was frozen in time so that a momentous day could be celebrated one year later. Instead, we harvested grapes and made grape juice as we stayed up way past bedtimes and then no one was hungry for wedding cake and I am not sure where the evening (or the cake) went.

I am not sure where the last year went either. A year ago today this is what we looked like, what we were doing. The day was much like today. Sunny, a little chilly, but a beautiful Fall day with friends and family. A good day, one of the best ever.

One year... 365 days...8760 hours. No matter how you look at it, the time flew by. Now the newlyweds aren't so "newly" but they are still blissfully wed. And as much as I loved the wedding day, the days since have been sweet as well. Not perfect because life gets busy, work gets in the way and sometimes the silence stretches on too long, but I look forward to the Sunday afternoons when we are all together to enjoy the laziness, the random text messages that say (although maybe not in these exact words) "I'm thinking about you", the birthday suppers, the "hey, are you at home" moments, and the "Can I stop by?"kind of days.

Yes, life goes on. Wedding days are full of promise, full of what the future holds, and hearts full to the point of overflowing. The days after have those days of crazy love, wonderful Saturdays spent together, the knowing that "goodbye" can simply be "goodnight" and the parting need not happen. Yes, life continues to be good and what the wedding day planted is now being harvested.

A year ago, we were dressed up, looking fine. Today, it is more relaxed, both in the pace and the style.

Instead of rushing to get hair styled, nails filed and makeup in place ready for smiles, I hit pause. I thought about grapes. 

I mean, its not every day that pink shoes fit the ticket and the other day, instead of setting up Morguen Toole with a vintage popcorn and candy bar, setting up table decorations and decorating the church, Lisa-Anna and I picked grapes. Another kind of harvest.

The vines were loaded. I don't think we even made a dent in what was there. Yeah, kinda like life. 

Life comes at us fully loaded. I just might make a dent. 

Did I mention that sometimes grape juice making can get a little messy? Maybe not in your house, but in my house, oh yeah. It gets ugly. All it takes is one rogue hose spraying scalding grape juice and well, you can see for yourself. But messy though it may be and even though the evening got later and later and soon it was in the wee hours of the morning, the results are worth it.

Okay, another life analogy. I can't help it. Life can get messy and ugly too sometimes. Not just in the big ways, but in the little things like bad moods, sour attitudes, harsh words that can't be erased….

Just like those hot spritzes of grape juice that spattered all over my stove. When they land on your skin, they burn. It hurts.

Now, how do I put all that together? Weddings, wonderful days, grape picking???

It's like this. Each day is given to us. Some days are for planting seeds, other days are for gathering the harvest in. Many days, it's just about letting life grow us. Waiting. Watching. Wondering. Hoping. Praying. Crying. Laughing. Resting.

Today I am remembering a good day. I've seen growth and it is good. Sweet. Like grapes. And this is only the first year's yield.

Love,
Dianne