Camp Nurse

7 AM this morning found me awake and making nursing rounds. This included giving out one medication before breakfast and "rounding" on a beautiful woodland trail as the sunlight began warming the day.  One mile in for the day. I could get used to this kind of nursing.

I am at Cove Valley Christian Camp (http://www.covevalleycamp.com) in Mercersburg, PA for the Primary Retreat (Grades 3-5) Weekend. I am "the nurse" for this event and to be honest, it's a bit out of my comfort zone. I am used to the NICU and hospital nursing, not this. I need to keep telling myself that it is like taking care of my kids at home. Headaches, scrapes, bruises, etc. I can handle it at home, so why is it kinda scary here? I am guessing that it is the fact that these are children that belong to someone else, and I feel responsible. I am "it" as there is no doctor, no practitioner, no one else to confer with; I am it.

So far, other than making sure medications were taken at breakfast (allergy, ADHD meds), I've handed out or applied a couple of bandaids. I am really good at bandaids. We played group games and the potential for injury was there (see Exhibit A photos below), but we made it through unscathed...

...in spite of the 14 metal poles and cement floor.

Exhibit A:

Scooter Hockey. Take 20 people, split them on two teams, some on scooters, some pushing the scooters, a goalie or two, someone to move the goal around to various places, and about 5 balls of various shapes and sizes. Add in loud shouts, whistles blowing, and laughter. Mix it together and you have scooter hockey, which looks a little like the bumper cars at a carnival. Minus the cotton candy. 

Group game time was followed by a short chapel service. (see Exhibit Photo B)

Exhibit B:

This is a much calmer activity. But the activity I am really looking forward to is...

..PM FOB (this stands for "Afternoon Flat On Back" aka Rest time/Naptime/Break)
Now that's what I'm talking about.

The lunch bell has rung and I need to go rejoin the campers. I love their enthusiasm and spice for life. If I had just an ounce of their energy, I may not even need PM FOB.

Here's to an uneventful rest of the day...oh wait, is that someone else who needs a bandaid?

Love,
Dianne

Stop Chewing In My Ear

I am in the kitchen with Aaron as he is eating tomato soup and drinking milk. LOUDLY. He doesn't even realize it, and he hasn't caught on to the "looks" I am giving him. I can hear every single swallow, every scrape of the spoon, every swoosh of food in his mouth. Thank goodness we are out of crackers.

He just burped. LOUDLY.

My family is very aware of how I weird I am about this. I have always been this way and I don't really know why. I just can't stand the sounds of eating and drinking. I am just so aware of it. I did see a recent Reader's Digest article about whether or not certain things we do make us normal or not, and being bothered by food sounds was the one thing it addressed. Apparently, this is not normal.

Big surprise there.

I remember being fairly little and sitting at the table while my mom was eating cereal. Every couple of bites, she'd stir it to mix the sugar in off the bottom of the bowl. Then she'd spoon it in and chew, swallow and repeat. I thought I was going to have to go knock the bowl out of her hands and grab the spoon, running insanely from the house. The thing is, she wasn't eating rudely, or exceptionally loud; it's just me and how I hear it.

For the record, other than that burp, Aaron wasn't being rude either.

I don't think I could survive in a nursing home. All those people eating without teeth, slurping their food in...yikes! Or how about in countries where it is polite to slurp? I would have to be taken away by the men in white coats.

Sometimes my girls will be eating and come over to where I am doing something and look over my shoulder, chewing all the while. All it takes is one look from me and they know to back away. I know I can't ask them to let their pretzels or chips get soggy before crunching, but at least they can crunch more than 2 inches away from my over-sensitive eardrums.

You know how some people don't like the sound of fingernails on the chalkboard? This is like that for me. I wish this was a part of me that was different. I don't like being sensitive to the sounds of people enjoying their food. I don't want people to feel like they can't eat around me.

And really, I have learned to be okay with it most of the time. But there are days, especially if I am already stressing about something, that the sounds seem amplified. Most days though, I am okay.

We all have quirks. We all have oddities that make us unique. I guess I just need to accept that this is mine; this is how I was created. Odd or not, I am His workmanship, created by Him. (As are all the loud chewers around me!)

Psalm 139:14
“I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.” (KJV)


Ephesians 4:10

For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.

I love that God knew all my quirks, created me that way, and loves me. There may be things about me that "bug" God, but He loves me unconditionally. That's the example I need to follow, especially for the people who rub me the wrong way. Or chew gum in my ear. 

.

Love,

Dianne

The Perfect Dress

I think I could be a shopaholic. After working 5 out of the last 6 nights, all I could think about this morning as my shift ended, was going to Dress Barn.

Dress Barn is one of my favorite places to shop for clothing, and not just because I like their clothes, but because of the customer service. There is something to be said for being called by name, instead of just "Miss" or "Ma'am", and having someone help you put together an outfit or find just the right top or pair of pants. They make you feel like a valued customer, and it makes you want to come back.

This morning I needed some "comfort shopping". This is similar to comfort food, but instead of eating something decadent, you find just the right item, at the right price. And it makes you feel pampered just a little. I am not saying to go out and spend like crazy, but maybe just find an item or two. (Or three or four)

I'm telling you, I could be a shopaholic of sorts.

I am trying to find a dress. Not just any dress, but a dress that makes me feel feminine and soft, but yet a little sassy and dare I say it...sexy. I want a dress to go dancing in.

Cha Cha Cha

I didn't find the dress this morning, but I'll keep looking. I like the thrill of the hunt.
I am not looking for a Dancing With The Stars kind of a dress (although some of those would be fun to wear!), I just want a dress I can feel pretty in, that I can feel like a lady in, and that I can wear somewhere in Somerset  or Garrett Counties. These were a few I liked on-line but didn't see in the store:

 

 And this little number was at Bloomingdales for a rather exorbitant price, at least for me. When I saw it though, I wanted to be a little girl again, twirling in circles just to see my skirt spin and swirl around me. I'd do that now, but I just get dizzy and a little sick.

Of course, I do still have my prom dress up in the attic...

Love,

Dianne

And They Lived Happily Ever After...Ballroom Lesson #6

I LOVE TO DANCE WITH MY HUSBAND!

Tonight was our 6th Lesson at Balanced Body Studio. I am so thankful that my work schedule allowed me to go to all of the lessons, and I am thankful for a friend who covered two of my work nights so I could dance. This was an experience that I wouldn't trade for anything!

I think that every couple, whether married or thinking of getting married, should learn to dance with each other.
     You learn so much about each other and about yourself.
     You learn how to give-and-take.
     You learn what kind of person the other is when they make a mistake.
     You also learn what kind of person they are when you mess up.
     You learn how to rely on each other.
     You learn how to read each other's body language.
     You learn how to be forgiving.
     You learn how to forgive.
     You laugh together.
     You exercise together.
     You are simply being together.


I Love to dance with Leo. It's that simple. This was the BEST gift ever. Not just a gift, but a giving of himself, his time, and his pride.

He is my Prince Charming. Medium height, blond, and oh so handsome.

Love,

Dianne

Time to Fertilize

As I was driving to work last night, I was minding my own business, listening to the radio, enjoying the ride, when my sense of smell was assaulted by the most pungent aroma. At first I thought, "Is that me?", followed immediately by, "Nah, I showered." Then I wondered if I'd stepped in something unpleasant and I was just now noticing it.

Then I drove by a field and saw the tell-tale signs that a farmer had been busy fertilizing his fields with none other than manure. Now, I'm a farm girl, and I've been around cow manure most of my life.
But this manure....wow.






I started thinking then about how the most unpleasant things, the stinkiest, can be good.  The manure is used as fertilizer and feeds the ground, thus resulting in a richer, better harvest. Something as basic and disgusting as poop can be useful and beneficial. While I love flowers and harvesting from the vegetable garden, what about the process of getting to that point. All the digging, weeding, and toiling need to come first. And yes, the fertilizing.

This got me thinking about life experiences. Sometimes the best results come out of a difficult, unpleasant times. I think about having a premature baby and the ups and downs that go with that, of the tears, and the fears, the uncertainty of the future. Not necessarily a pleasant experience and not something I would wish for again, but out of that experience, I believe I am a better person. I allowed the experience to grow me into a stronger woman.

Do I let every not-so-nice experience take me to a higher place? No, not always, and certainly not when I am right in the thick of it. That's kinda like the manure. At first, it stinks and you just want to get away from it. Then it begins to work into the soil and do it's thing. After awhile, as the crop grows, you start to see the results, and you realize all the unpleasantness was worth it.

Life hands us a raw deal sometimes. I don't think I have to be happy about it, but I can find something good in the midst of it, if I am willing to look.

Isaiah 61:3

New King James Version (NKJV)

³ To console those who mourn in Zion,
To give them beauty for ashes,
The oil of joy for mourning,
The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness;
That they may be called trees of righteousness,
The planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified.”

Love,
Dianne

The Scenic Route, Intentional or Not

Sometimes I like to take the scenic route to get home from work. This morning I turned off on a side road that I don't usually take, just to change things up a bit. Where else would I see:

White windmills waving hello to Spring,
Weeping willows just putting on their first touches of green,
"Ready to burst" red buds clinging to the fingertips of the trees,
 Mountain sides flashing hints of yellowy-green as new leaves begin to peep out,
A small village as it stretches and greets the day,
A horse and buggy taking its time on a narrow dirt road, and
Morning doves in love.

I may have seen the same things traveling the way I usually do, but I don't think I would have really seen them. My normal way home is routine; I almost don't have to think about it. I can almost say that I could drive it with my eyes closed. (Sometimes I feel like I do!) I don't think I really notice my surroundings when I drive my normal route; the path of least resistance.

Leo and I have always enjoyed, when time allows, going the scenic route. Once, driving home from Louisville, KY, I got mixed up and we got a true scenic tour of West Virginia. This was in the days before GPS, and by just looking at the roadmap, the road we were on looked like it would cut across nicely to get us back to the Interstate.

Long story short...it didn't. That atlas did not show every winding, twisting, curvy turn in the narrow, sometimes gravel road. It also didn't show the leafy woods, the rocky ledges, and the wildlife. Taking the scenic route that day wasn't planned, it wasn't convenient, but it did end up being an adventure.

Kinda like the detour I planned, coming back from Maine on our honeymoon. I thought New York City should be a definite detour. It looked easy on the map.

Long story short...it wasn't. We barely got out of Queens alive, and we didn't even intend to go to Queens! We were running out of quarters to get us over all the toll bridges, so when we saw a way out, we took it and never looked back. I never did see Manhattan that day.

I like adventure. I like exploring. I like seeing new places.
I like seeing old places and the same old things in a new way.
I like to take the road less traveled.
I like the scenic route.

                                                              
                       


































Love,
Dianne

Good Friday Reflections

The family was all at home this morning. We ate a breakfast casserole that I'd prepared yesterday, all except Ryan (he hates potatoes, even when hidden in a casserole). The conversation flowed, the teasing commenced, and the radio played in the background. Sometimes our house is noisy.

Now, breakfast is long over, the dishes are washed and the house is quiet again. Adrienne is babysitting, Aaron and Amy are trying to build an art easel, Heather is working on a school project, Leo is feeding the cows, Ryan is tagging along with Leo, and I am left with my thoughts. Sometimes our house is quiet.

Today is Good Friday; a good day to reflect. Today is a serious day when you think about the enormity of what Jesus did for us on the cross. But it is also a day of joy when you realize just what He did and how much He loves each and every one of us. For me, when I think about His death on the cross, I feel sorrow, but I also know that His death wasn't permanent. He did rise again after 3 days in the grave. He died so I can have forgiveness, so I can have a relationship with Him. To try and explain it, how it works, why it works, I don't know if I can. I just know that without God in my life, I would be a wreck. Not that my life became "perfect", without heartache, without sadness, without pain and sickness, without anger and all the other stuff, but I can get through all of it because He gets me through it.

Today is Good Friday. I am thankful and in awe of what God did for me. I am blessed beyond what I deserve. He made me a princess. Last night I was reading Psalms 45, a wedding song. Verse 13 says "All glorious is the princess within her chamber; her gown is interwoven with gold." That's how God makes me feel.

Take time to reflect today on Good Friday. 

 Love,
Dianne