shechemist

1. Worked today while MC took The Mango and Elwood to the 'burbs to bask in the adoration of Oma, Opa, and the vast population of cousins. Text reports were that the Mango had a great time, and Elwood has fully entered his 'stranger fear' stage of development. Funny The Mango never met a crowd of people she didn't like.

2. Work did not suck, even tho' I was Charge Nurse. Yay!

3. There is nothing I can say about Ivy's passing. I have been thinking about her everyday for the past few months. Working in ICU I deal with people dying constantly, and I when they do finally pass I wish them well and godspeed to what ever it is on the other side. I wish she never had cancer. I wish she had a longer remission. I wish she didn't have to struggle as she did. She lived a month longer than I, from afar, thought she would. Too bad that last month was such a shitty struggle for her and everyone around her.

4. Yesterday I was off and woke up evil. Everything was on my last god damn nerve from Elwood's one year developmental clinginess, to The Mango's 3 year old craziness, to just fucking everything. MC gave me a much needed kick in the ass, and forced myself to stop acting like such a cranky cunt. Lunch at our fav local mexican place, later and I was fortified enough to bike the kids to the beach. The Mango was still a nutty 3 year old. Elwood freaked out about the sand, but was happy to hang out on the blanket with me, and watch The Mango dig in the sand. 2 hours later we biked home, stopping in the park to get mexican fruit bars. It was a total win, even if The Mango got all difficult and screamy at bedtime again. Being 3 is hard. On everyone.

5. doh, MC and the kids are home. gotta get them settled for the night.

If Oprah's name is evoked at any time during a conversation discussing the plan of care of a loved one, the conversation is over and you need to just fucking sign a DNR/DNI order, and start comfort care.




1. no we can't grow your loved one a new brain with stem cells, even if you think you saw that on oprah.
2. giving your loved one a pneumonia vaccine will not cause them to develop autism, even if you saw on oprah that vaccines cause autism. for starters your loved one is an adult. they are no longer at risk for developing autism.
3. your loved one is contracted, bed-sore ridden, hasn't walked in a decade, hasn't spoken in a decade, and is brain damaged. they will not be walking out of here with you to be a guest on oprah. you will not be interviewed on oprah so you can tell your story about you never gave up on your loved one, and how all the doctors were wrong.

yeah. good luck with that

1. The Mango had her first brush with 'school photos'. Her expression reads "dude, my mama has been taking my photo for 3 fucking years and not once has she asked me 'Sit still, tilt my head, push my hair out of my eyes, and smile'. What kind of fucking photographer are you?"

2. I normally loath Ayelet Waldman. Loath loath loath. Anyway, she was on Fresh Air (hey man. I need to listen to something at night to sleep and they have a podcast that fits the bill) and for once, she said something that resonated with me. She talked about having an almost political view on the importance of letting kids have unsupervised time out and about in their neighborhoods. She felt it was important for children to be able to develop judgment skills and the only way they can do that is if they are allowed out of the house without a parent and allowed to kick around unsupervised for a while. The Mango is only three, so I am somewhat limited on doing this, but at some point I am going to teach her to ride the bus on her own.

3. Last summer sucked goat balls. This summer is going to be better. More visits to Millennium Park. More visits to the aquarium. More eating watermelon on the back porch. More painting. More biking with the kids. More beach time. More date nights with MC. More sex. More mexican ice cream bars. More letting The Mango stay up late enough to see fucking fireflies. More eating dinner on the garage deck. More gardening. More outdoor concerts. More downtime.

4. Also more gym time. The past two months I have been going to the Y 3 to 4 times a week. I'm down to what I weighed before I was knocked up with The Mango. I still can't fit in to many of the clothes I had then due to fucking middle-age and the strange mass redistribution that occurs with gestation. But I feel good and running feels better and better.

what are your goals for the summer?

oh american apparel. I want to like you with your made in america-ness and wash and wear-ability.

But then I see your fucking ad on the back of the Chicago Reader or in some music rag. some ad with an anorexia dead eyed bruised hipster half naked and looking like shit on a cracker. there are gorked out junkies in my ICU right now that look better in their hospital gown than half of the models you use in your ads. all I can think is "why would anyone give a dime to these fucking twatwaffles?"

you have cute, plain, kids gear. you have nice relatively unpretentious shit. good golly do I fucking hate your marketing people.

I know I am not exactly in your marketing demographic. But I am in the demographic of folks that still actually have cash to buy shit, so doesn't that count for anything?


PS smacked out models on the nod went out in 1997.

Babies fucking love watermelon









Three is not too young to work in the kitchen

The Mango and MC


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just finished placing 3 years of photos into physical photo albums. I am missing christmas of 2008, and a quarter of 2007, but fuck it, I am done.

hand to god I will never get that far behind again.

The Mango asked to look through the first book 4 millions times tonight. 4 million times. she can name everyone in the family on sight, but isn't understanding the concept of life before The Mango. she tells me that I need to put her in the photos. it is sweet.

tomorrow is our first stab at music classes. trying to decide if I should fortify my self with bourbon first. it is probably poor form to show up at a children's music class half in the bag, so I won't. oh and our first 'playdate' with the kids downstairs. I'm taking 4 children under the age of 5 to the playlot 1.5 blocks away. it will be perfect if their helicopter (not to mention self involved and rude as fuck) mom enjoys the two hours to herself. if she doesn't, notttt so much. I like her kids and keep hoping something clicks between The Mango and her youngest girl.


I am in the middle of three days off in a row. the first time in forever, while not traveling. the floors are spotless, laundry is done, I ran today, and I am completing fifty thousand little effing things I never have time to do. Like cold smoking bacon, which was a bit of a disaster. way.too.salty. perfect for cooking beans in the future tho'. so it wasn't a complete wash of 4 pounds of pig belly and 2 days of fitzing with the clay pot smoker and a card board box.




Elwood is one red cunt hair away from walking. he is also trying very hard to say mama, dada, mango, and baba. so very very close. he is also waking up every freaking hour at night. developmental milestone = no sleeping. intelligent design my fat white ass. he is getting more and more fun with his increasing mobility and communication skills.


Tomorrow I'll post some photos. I am winding down and need to sleep.

tuesday it sleeted and was shit. and I worked.

Wed it was sunny and cool. I got the bike trailer out and did all my errands on the bike. Dropped off The Mango at preschool, biked to the pet store to pay our dog dude, biked to my fav Bosnian market to stock up for a few days, biked to pick The Mango back up. Plus I roasted a chicken, rubbed ribs for saturday, and brined 5 pounds of pork belly for bacon. Yes, I am going to try and cold smoke bacon.

Thursday I worked, but biked. MC was on his way home on a train to get The Mango and relieve our little dude sitter, when someone decided enough was enough and stepped on to the tracks. Inaddition to being incredibly tragic (for the aced out dude, his family/friends, for the train engineer, for everyone who had to gather the remains) it was also really fucking inconvenient. The train, and all remaining living souls on the train had to sit on the tracks for over 2 hours. I was at work and couldn't get The Mango by her pick up time. MC called the preschool, called the sitter and thought all was well.

Well, the preschool, despite two phone calls informing them of the unfortunate train incident, and who would be picking up our fair haired child, FUCKING REFUSED TO GIVE THE CHILD OVER TO THE FUCKING SITTER, cuz MC's evening wasn't sucking enough. sitter texted me, I texted him, he called preschool again, and finally The Mango was warily released. oh and we owe 25 bucks for a late pick up. thanks.

Today is 80 and beautiful. I had a computer charting class in a windowless room with a group of people who took 45 fucking mins just to log into the system. the plus side, I finished all the pieces for a cardi, which I now think is a cunt hair too small.


I also stopped in to see a pt.

All nurses have a type of patient they don't do well with. I don't do well with talking personality disorder patients who actively (and usually transparently) try to manipulate everyone that walks into the room. The flip side is there is a patient type they do really well with. I am pretty good with old guys with shady pasts, psych issues (non-personality disorders), no family/friends, and are actively dying, usually of cancer who are still talking (or at least communicating). for the past week I have had such guy, and he needs hospice/withdrawal of care. He is dying. He is DNR/DNI, and right now he is on BiBAP, breathing in the high 30's, in renal failure, and basically slowly dying. When we take the mask off to feed him, or just give him a break, he lasts 3 mins, gets hypoxic, and his heart rate drops to the 30's while we fumble as fast as we can to get the fucking mask back on him. He talked to the hospice folks, but then changed his mind at the last min.

So I have been talking to him. And since I was off today, I said I would visit him. And I did. And I will again tomorrow. And I'll have him Sunday if he is still alive.

And everyday I say, "let me know what I can do for you today and let me know when you are ready, I'll be there for you dude."

1. I haven't seen my kids for 2 days. but hey! everyone is home tomorrow! and then sunday we go to oma and opa's for a big easter family shin-dig!

2. I had a sweet moment at work where I calmly said something to an attending and he said to his resident lacky "did you hear what she said? it is important." and it was important and it was nice to for that to be acknowledged.

3. I had another sweet moment where I took a resident down a peg, in a room full of people after she called a code on a talking patient. I normally wouldn't have done it, but she called a rapid response on the same patient 5 mins before, and the patient didn't need it then and she didn't need a code called on her 5 mins later. fucking dumbass.

4. removable cockrings are the way to go. having a first year surgical resident cut a metal cock ring off of you means it will be shown to everyone for the next 8 hours. don't be that dude.

5. I love gardening as much as the next person, but the craziness over my condo's gardening plan, is making me want to salt the earth. and I will. cuz frankly, I am that kind of person. you suck the pleasure out of something for me, I will suck the pleasure out of it for you.

6. I need more wine.

7. I am going to sign on for some ED shifts. I am sooooooo frigging nervous.

1. last night, for the second time in the 2 years I worked at Whospital, I went to a post work social gathering. and it didn't suck. go team me for being social.

2. The Mango is starting to make up stories, and almost all of them involve dragon and pretend people. she even calls the pretend people, pretend people, as in, pretend mama, pretend daddy, and pretend uncle. but the dragons, they are real man.

3. MC has been floating several crazy ideas including going to ireland during the week The Mango's jack montessori is closed for summer vacation. ok, it would be for two weeks, including the week her preschool is closed. I am entertaining the idea. I'm pricing up renting a cottage near Dingle, the tickets and a car rental. while The Mango might be old enough to enjoy (and remember it) most of the trip, I still think the cost/benefit ratio is not in favor of going. I am also going to price out a two week stay in Upper Peninsula MI as a reference point. cuz if we go to the UP we can at least con a family member to take the kids for a night so we can get tipped on Canadian whiskey and have dirty dirty drunken marital congress. oh yeah.

4. I have been obsessing about the issue of a 3rd kid. reasons thus far for: 3 has always been my ideal hoard size. since we got such a late start having kids, we will be 105 by the time they start having kids of their own, so they can turn to eachother for help during their child rearing years (but that just might be me projecting on the limited amount of help I have due to MC and me both not having much family help. not that Oma and Opa aren't a fucking God sent Gift. we both would love to have more non kid time , but oma and opa are in their 70's (I don't want to abuse their kindness), and sitters aren't cheap). almost every family as a "late bloomer" or a "fuck up" and if we have 3 then we can play the odds and not saddle one kid with the role of "the responsible one". and finally, increase the odds of a good genetic match if someone needs a kidney or bone marrow.

the cons are expense, being pregnant again, and the fact that I'm exactly a great parent or partner during that whole first year of life. everything gets better, but holy fuck does the first 6 months to year blow goats.

5. since the 10 year anniversary of my mom's death in march, I have had a low grade background of anxiety. a rumbling feeling that it is my turn in the metaphysical barrel again and someone is going to die. like MC. a few weeks ago he was out late with friends and his iphone was in a shit spin and he wasn't able to send test messages or call out, as we have a habit of texting eachother even when we are out. he was getting my texts, but he couldn't text out. anyway, I started freaking out after he didn't reply to any of my texts for 3 hours. I headed to bed, and the land line started ringing. I am embarrassed to say it was the scariest 2 seconds of my life as I ran to the phone thinking "the hospital is calling his home number and I hope my upstairs neighbors are home so they can sit with the sleeping kids while I go to the hospital." but it was MC calling from the bar phone to tell me he was ok and he will be home after the next round and his phone was being wonky. I felt both stupid and relieved. like I dodged a bullet.

the low grade fear is feeding into my reasoning to have another kid too, oddly enough. cuz if the clock is ticking, then I would rather have another kid with MC before it is too late.

6. every day I work, I am reminded that I really need to fucking apply to NP programs. in particular I work with someone that has had the same 2 years of experience, for the past 20 years and jesus fuck I don't want to be in situation. while I haven't learned everything there is to be a good critical care nurse, I have learned everything that I am going learn at Whospital. it is fucking time I branched back out. I am going to put myself on the ER's schedule next month and see how that goes. I might also apply to the trauma hospital up the road from me. I need a change. I need to learn new shit. and I need to get away from the Nurse Jobsworths on my unit. cuz they are killing me.

The Mango turned 3. her birthday was pretty low key. she helped me make angel food cake that we used to make strawberry short cake with homemade whipped cream. she got to crack all 12 eggs, which I separated, and really what more does a 3 year old love than to stand on a step-stool and break a whole dozen of eggs? Well, besides dragons that is!




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Here are some photos from the Beaver Creek trip.

The Mango skiing





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returned last night from Beaver Creek CO. it was a long week.

I'm not very good at sustaining selflessness for more than an hour or so. After 5 days of waking up with The Mango/Elwood before 6:30 AM, MC snowboarding or working on his presentation, while I attended to our children in a house full of AARP nay, republican AARP members, I completely lost my shit. Well, getting pulled over in beautiful bumfuck CO cuz the taillights had gone out on the Jeep, and discovering it was due to a wiring issue and not a simple bulb issue while a republican AARP member argued with me about it being a wiring issue (but when MC, who had not even touched the jeep, cuz he was snowboarding, said it was a wiring issue, he was completely correct and had fantastic automotive diagnostic skills) caused me to completely lose my shit in a loud and ugly way.

loud and ugly, which was reset by MC packing away the toiletries, and all the clothes I had laid out for me and the kids before I had a chance to shower the morning we left, cuz after all, he didn't need them anymore, and the neat stacks of clothing was clearly shit I just fucking forgot to pack.

good times.

but that is behind us now.

Beaver Creek is beautiful. The food was eh. The Mango steadfastly refused to learn to stop while skiing, so she never was able to get off the baby hill. Elwood clapped, crawled up stairs and stood for the first time.

I need to work tomorrow. I also need a nap. MC and elwood are napping. My time is coming.

you know what, it is 10 fucking pm and I am half in the bag. why? cuz work is kicking my ass. I am the black fucking angel of death. everyone in the ICU (16 beds of everyone) is trying to fucking die. unlike the normal occupants of the ICU we are being hit folks with seriously trying to die. 30 year olds with cocaine induced brain bleeds. 30+ year old with young kids and cancer. 20 year olds in renal failure. 30+ year olds with HIV. oh and we have the gomers with no DNR's. poor fucks in their 90's (or 100. yes we fucking coded and intubated a 100 year person) trying to meet God/Jesus/SandWorms/Allah/TheGreatFuckingAbyss.

three weeks of this shit. it is killing me and I am getting tanked tonight cuz I don't need to work again till sunday. and I want to have recovery time CUZ I AM TOO OLD FOR THIS SHIT(red wine, not the dying.....oddly enough).


gah. I have been in many codes but last week I was in a code that is still fucking haunting me. it was a fucking nightmare. a bloody, 'I am trying to do chest compressions and the poor bastard is POURING blood out his mouth and nose with every downstroke' nightmare.

I am done. when we get back from our vacation I am applying to school for my NP.

today was The Mango's first day at the new preschool.




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1. Hit a bit of a low. How low? So low I have only opened one (ONE) of the christmas cards I have received. why? cuz I knew I wasn't going to get any of my cards out before Jan 10th and in my funk, I couldn't handle all the good fucking cheer inside the cards.


So if you are waiting to hear from me, you'll need to wait a bit longer.


2. The Mango's normally great sitter has in the past 6 months turned into a passive-aggressive pain in my fucking ass. I think she is still great with the kids, but MC and I haven't had a two week stretch of time where we didn't want to grab her by the shoulders and shake the annoying out of her. When I pick up The Mango this afternoon, I'm giving her two weeks notice with The Mango and asking her if she still wants Elwood part time. If she doesn't, I have him covered too. I have a feeling tears are going to be shed. I am going to be sad about leaving the sitter no matter what, but I am not going to miss trying to get a yes/ no answer out of her when she is feeling uncomfortable about something.

3. The Mango is going to one of two preschool options. A home based jack Montessori a block away, or a state accredited, school district affiliated, Ethiopian family run charter school preschool next to MC's train station. Both are ready to take her, I just need to visit the jack Montessori tomorrow morning so I can make my final decision.

4. I am having weird (total First World, Middle Class) angst about The Mango starting preschool. She is going to be the only blue eyed blond child in both these places and I am hoping she doesn't get picked on. While she is no wall flower, I don't want her to feel different. And yes I know, everyone should have my fucking problems, adjustments are going to need to be made cuz preschool is not the same as the sitter, and everything is going to work out. and if it doesn't we have options, which is more than other folks have.

5. MC hates his day gig and is making great plans. Great plans make me nervous cuz frankly I have grown accustom to my cushy life of bon bons and cabana boys. Or rather Summer CSA shares, not losing sleep over making this month's mortgage payment, and working out at the Y a few times a week.

6. I broke my New Years resolutions down in to monthly goals. This month's goals included applying to NP programs. My panic search for daycare knocked me a week back from my goal, but once it is settled, tomorrow, I can get back on task.


7. I have been making Mass again. Bringing the kids even. It feels good. I went to Reconciliation before the New Year, and it feels good to start the year with a clean slate, so to speak.

MerryKissMyAss


mix for friends:

2 parts irish cream
1 part vanilla vodka
1 part peppermint liqueur


shake over ice and pour. garnish with a candy cane.


tomorrow we head out to the great white suburbia for christmas eve with my family. I am looking forward to it. Mc and I finished wrapping the few things that needed to be wrapped and all is well. Elwood has a low grade fussing going on, but I am sure he is going to crash soon.


and remember kids: asthma + sub zero weather+ smoking crack = intubation. welcome to my ICU, moron.

ICU directors have a pretty short half life in my hospital. Our previous director, who was only an interim director (and who I loved) and meant to be our director for 6 to 8 weeks stayed 10 months. The director before her, who hired me, lasted 8-ish months. This weekend we figured out the current director (who I was Ehh on. she seriously mis-represented her management style during her interview, never put in more than 7 hours a day, and once told me I as a nurse had no right to question a signed 3rd party consent, even if the person signing the consent for their spouse was a. drunk at 9:30 in the morning, b. wearing a hospital band from the last time they themselves were admitted, and c. have a well documented mental health history and resided in a nursing home because they can't live on their own due to their mental health issues.) will no longer be returning to work.


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now for some photos