Let me count the ways.

I don't write often enough about my work. When health care comes up in conversation, the discussion tends to center around dollars. Deductibles and insurance premiums and copayments and EOBs. I have been working in this field for more than eight years now. I don't know if I have ever mentioned before how much I love my job. I wonder if I appreciate that enough. I get up in the dark, get kids up and ready for their day, and go to my workplace most weekdays. It is not always easy. To leave them, I mean. I sometimes feel that by trying to be a good mom and employee that I am only average at everything. I wonder how I would survive this whole process if I did not love my job.

When I was in college, I reached the point in which I had to choose my specialty. I had taken all of the prerequisite courses and core sciences, and I could not go forward until I decided whether to go into nursing, teaching, business, or some type of therapy or leisure management. I loved the idea of cardiac rehab. All of my grandparents struggled with cardiac issues when I was younger, and I had an epiphany. Every patient that enters into cardiac rehab is someone's grandparent. Or maybe an aunt or uncle or sibling or spouse. You know that song by Brad Paisley? To the world you might be just another girl, but to me you are the world? These patients would be somebody's world, and I would treat them how I would treat my own grandparents. Or parents. You get the idea. So I chose cardiac rehab. I knew it was a field I would always be interested in, but I did not anticipate all of the ways I would be blessed by this career. Let me count the ways.

*I got to interview multiple applicants and choose the nurse I wanted to work with full time. I had a list of interview questions and qualities I wanted to find in my cardiac rehab nurse. Who gets to do that? So I went with my gut. I hired someone who I felt was qualified, dependable, and kind. Would you like to guess how that worked out for me? She has been working with me for five years now, and has become one of my best friends on the planet. I LOVE her! She gets all of my jokes and rarely makes fun of me for them.

*Most of my patients are wise. I get to collect advice from people who have been where I am right now. When I was considering baby #3, I was concerned the baby would take away from the older children. One of my ladies told me, "Oh, Honey, but think of the joy and love the new baby will bring to them!" They encourage me to forget the laundry in favor of playing outside, or to take more vacations, even if I have to pinch some pennies to get it accomplished. Oh, and they share recipes! Lots of them. They tell me things like, "Authority is like a bar of soap. The more you use it, the less you have left." They tell me, "If I had known I was going to live this long, I would have taken much better care of myself!" Without exception, they tell me to spend more time with my children. I have been so inspired by the life lessons they bring with them that I have started an official notebook of quotes!

*I have banker's hours. I'm not going to lie about it. Nobody wants to come in and exercise in a hospital in the middle of the night, or on weekends or holidays...which means I don't work at those times! I offer 3 exercise days per week, but the program is flexible enough that I can move days around if I need to for my patients to be able to celebrate the holidays with their families. This means I get to be home for all of the really big holidays. I may not get summers off along with lengthy Christmas breaks like all my teacher buddies, but in the hospital setting, sticking to weekdays is pretty special!

*A patient spends three months in my program. That means I get to know them. That means I get to watch them go from struggling to make it to 7 minutes on the treadmill on the first day to walking 40 minutes without difficulty towards the end of things. That is one of my favorite things.

*I get to wear scrubs or exercise gear to work. Imagine enjoying your workday in the comfort of your pajamas, with a stethoscope hanging around your neck. That's me.

I am not saying things are always peace, love, and sunshine. We have had to fly patients out before. Sometimes we may have to load a patient up in a wheelchair and push him directly to the ER and call his wife to come and be with him. Piles of paperwork must be done, and classes and meetings must be attended. But most of the time, at the root of it all, somebody's world comes in to our program, and when they leave us they have improved. That's all I'm saying.

Piano Lessons

I always wanted to learn how to play the piano. Not in a cry myself to sleep at night for years kind of way, but more in a wistful envious pang as I listened to others play kind of way. In a harassing people to teach me to play a song here and there kind of way. As I got older and into sports I realized there was little time for it. In the back of my mind, I always thought that someday I would have a daughter, and my daughter would take lessons. I always sort of planned on us learning together.

I never wanted to be one of those creepy mothers who forces unrealized dreams on her child when anyone can see the child cares little about those dreams. But when Madison started to mention learning to play, I decided this was our chance. I ordered an electric keyboard, with weighted keys and all kinds of intelligence, in time for Christmas and began my search for a teacher. A tingle of anxiety swept over me as she opened it on Christmas morning. Part of me was afraid I had read too much into her interest and it was more about me than her. As the wrapping paper was ripped away, her mouth dropped to form a perfect O, and she said, "OH! YOU DIDN'T!" Which in kid language translates into, "I can't believe you got me such an awesome present!" It was the first thing she told all of her family at all of the dinners and the first thing she mentioned to her friends at school when asked about the holidays. She was also quick to inform everyone about lessons beginning January 6.

Now I am beginning to wonder if I am really going to be able to do this. Teaching old dogs new tricks and all. I remember my grandad, a man who spent most of his life around horses, learning what equestrian meant. He was around eighty years old at the time. He said you never get too old to learn something. So Madison had her first lesson, and we did her homework together and have been practicing every day. She loves the keyboard. I love the keyboard. We are really going to do this.

The Big Picture

At the beginning of each year, I usually have several boring resolutions bouncing around inside my head. Lose weight. Exercise every day. Save money. Make a point to scrapbook on a regular basis. You name the generic resolutions. I can assure you I have tried most of them.

This year, my only resolution is this: Focus on the big picture.

I am a big fan of Peter Walsh, the organizational expert. When he is helping a family, he always asks them to visualize the life they want to live. Then they should make decisions based upon that picture. This works well when organizing a home, but it can also work in daily life. I get reflective as I get accustomed to writing a different year on all of my paperwork each January. So I took some time to visualize my happy place. And then I made a commitment to ensure that my focus will be on that for the upcoming year. I will try to do the things that enhance that picture instead of wasting precious time with the things that can be deterrents. In my big picture, people matter. There is a sparkle in the eyes of my husband and children. Life is fun and peaceful at the same time. We are using the good dishes and wearing the good jewelry and enjoying each day as it comes. My big picture includes peace, love, and sunshine. Patience. Piano lessons, baseball, and a new basketball goal in the yard. It includes making sure all of the people who share their lives with me are glad they do. Time moves slowly, and smiles flash regularly. Stress, chaos, and raised voices are minimal. Small, daily irritations roll right off of my shoulders. Everyone is happy and healthy. That is what I resolve to strive for in 2011. I hope you have a big picture for your family, and I hope this new year is all you ever dreamed it would be!

My Best Christmas Ever

This year marks the first Christmas since I have been a mother in which I had everything ready to go ahead of schedule. Usually, I get up in the dark on Christmas Eve to do Santa duty. While I am up, I wrap some last minute things. I have been known to put together the breakfast casserole, that I intended to make the day before, at this time as well. Last Christmas my house had the stomach flu. A year or two before that, I had bronchitis during Christmas. I remember a Christmas several years ago, before we had any savings, when we had several unexpected expenses just before the holidays. One of them was replacing the transmission in a vehicle. I remember sitting down and mapping out after which payday we could go Christmas shopping as I am generally opposed to credit cards. So we had about 6 days from payday to Christmas to go shopping, find gifts, and get everything wrapped. When it was all over, I felt as though I had been run over by a truck. As a kid I never thought holidays would be stressful, and I don't think they should be now. I have always loved Christmas, but I have not always been able to enjoy it like I hoped to.

With each passing year, I get a little better at planning ahead. I have to tell you, this year I think I nailed it. Everything was bought, wrapped, and assembled well in advance. I had a Ziploc bag in the closet for each of the kids with their stocking goodies ready to go weeks ahead of time. We did the school program. We did the church play. Everyone was blessedly healthy. When Christmas Eve arrived, the girls and I made cookies and cheese ball. Jaron went ice fishing with his dad. There was sledding. At night, we all slept. I got to see most of my favorite people in the world. And take pictures and video of them with my new Christmas gifts;). There were hugs. Video games were played and ringtones were exchanged. I think it was my best Christmas ever. I hope some of the people I shared it with can say the same!

The Tiniest Glimpse

Over the weekend, we paid our first visit to Colton's Steakhouse. It was the first time Megan used a booster seat at a restaurant instead of a high chair. My little family of five colored with crayons as we awaited our steak, shrimp, and chicken, and I kind of felt like it was a big deal. Life with a toddler is not predictable. They do not always cooperate with the best of plans. This particular night, though, Megan sat like a big girl and behaved beautifully. I felt like I was getting the tiniest glimpse into the next phase of our lives. The phase without the diaper bags or sippy cups. I thought it would make me more sad than it did. I thought that when my last baby started to outgrow babyhood I would dwell on that fact. I did not feel that way at all. Instead, I started considering some of the fun things I want to do as a family. Rafting and boating and Chiefs football and water parks. I love rocking Megan to sleep, and right now her head fits perfectly against my shoulder. I will miss that. I'm just saying that during my little glimpse into the future, I liked what I saw.

hunting is for girls

I know there are a lot of girls who do not hunt. I have friends and family who do not mind if deer are hunted, they just don't want to be the ones to pull the trigger or field dress the animal. Well, I don't field dress the animal. Kevin does that for me. When I was in my blind over the past weekend, it was cold and windy. By the time darkness fell I was beyond ready to go home and warm up. But I loved it. I was thinking about all the reasons hunting is for girls, and decided maybe I needed to blog about it.

1. Rest. I use to hunt in a tree stand. I have come to enjoy the blind on the ground these days. You can really get comfortable in there. My gun was sitting on the table. I got to lounge in a bag chair with my feet up. I could see all the ditches surrounding my blind from the windows. Maybe I dozed a little. Nobody needed a single thing from me. For three hours. When is the last time that happened in your house?

2. Reflection. I love to listen and watch as the world goes by. I am not talking about horns honking and people shouting. I am talking about rustling leaves and tall, waving grass and geese in flight. I usually see deer, squirrels, and various birds. Sometimes I see a turkey or fox or coyote. I like to think about the people who may have crossed this field before me. Indians or pioneers who may have gathered around a fire there as their children played barefoot in the grass. I like to consider the way things may have looked then. Without powerlines and blacktops and fences dividing everything into segments. A mind can wander when left alone!

3. Accessories. I remember being out in the yard with my dad and brother once when someone stopped in the driveway for a few minutes. I have no memory of who it was, or what he discussed with my dad, but as he left, he said, "Well, I'll leave you and your boys alone now." My brother and I were wearing dark green coveralls and stocking hats. He thought I was a boy. Until recently, a girl had to look a lot like a boy to hunt, but have you seen hunting clothes for women lately? I got all new camo this year. It comes with pink or purple accents now. Instead of wearing man styles and sizes and looking like I am wearing my husband's pajamas into the woods, I now have Realtree camoflauge head to to, trimmed in pink, that is very obviously made for a girl.

4. The Hunting Bag. I don't know if boys do this, but I always take my hunting bag. I probably should not bring this up after my ramblings about becoming one with nature. However, here are the staples in my hunting bag: deer tags and heritage card, cell phone(set to vibrate, of course), mp3 player(in case nature is being too quiet for too long), hot hands, beverage(hot chocolate is my fave), snacks, lip gloss, extra ammunition, binoculars, extra blanket, digital camera. Pondering the ways of our ancestors does not mean I plan to live exactly as they did or anything. I like my conveniences.

5. The Guy I Married. Hunting always means spending time with my husband. He delivers me to my blind or tree stand and we meet up afterward. We discuss strategy and everything we saw and heard (or texts we may have gotten) during our hunt. Sometimes we hunt together throughout midday. It is something that has always been ours and I look forward to it.

6. Shooting Guns. I like to shoot guns. When I have a gun to my shoulder and my eye on the crosshair, I feel like I am ready for anything. I don't care if I am bringing down a big buck or hitting an orange dot on a paper target. When I fire a gun, and I hit my mark...it feels really good. Everybody should try it at least once.

So maybe you are a great white hunter, or maybe you don't think it is for you. I am just saying it could be your thing. Hunting can be a great thing for girls.

Just Like Me

One of my favorite things about hunting has nothing to do with shooting a deer. When I go deer hunting, Kevin walks me to my blind or tree stand in total darkness before going off to his. I settle in as quietly as I can, close my eyes, and wait for sunrise. Everything is hushed and solemn and serene. Not silent, but hushed. In these moments it is easy to forget about laundry and dishes and trying to build up vacation time at work. There are no worries. There is only peace. And possibilities. And hope. Slowly the woods start to come to life, anticipating the dawn. Squirrels start to scurry from branch to branch. Birds start to chirp and sing. Turkeys gobble. Owls hoot. If you are in the right place, the deer slowly make their way to their feet, shake themselves off, and crunch through the fallen leaves to step out into range. I think most hunters will tell you similar versions of what they would consider to be the perfect hunt. For me, it would go something like this:

On October 30, 2010, Madison went on her very first deer hunt. Hunting is not something that happens spontaneously. Preparation is involved. Kevin is not one to take someone hunting before they are capable and ready, so Madison had practiced with her rifle, an AR 223, and proven herself to be accurate (by accurate I mean repeatedly hitting a target smaller than a baseball from 100 yards). Kevin and Madison worked together in the garage to build a table from plywood and 2X4s, and he asked his grandmother to sew up some denim so he could make sand bags. Now she would be able to have a sturdy place to rest her gun as she shot. Prior to opening morning, we set up the blind complete with the table, sand bags and seating, and everything was all set.

The morning of the hunt, we were all up by 5:30. We delivered the non-hunting kids to Grandma's house. We parked the truck and walked about 500 yards to our blind. We quietly took our seats and settled in to wait. Soon after we could see into the field of clover, a buck deer slowly approached our blind as he grazed. The angle out of our "window" was not exactly right, and we had to move Madison's table and her seat to let her get the best chance at a shot. Leaves rustled during this process, causing the deer to throw his head up and look in our direction more than once. Most deer, with more age and intelligence, would have ran away about three times in the 30 seconds it took us to get Madison adjusted. But he just stood there as Kevin asked, "Do you see him in the scope yet? Do you see him?" She said no a few times until the excited whisper, "Oh, Dad! I can see him!" He said, "You need to shoot him as soon as you are sure!" The words had barely escaped his mouth when she fired her gun. It was the exclamation point to his instruction. In his very next breath, he said, "Oh! Good shot, Madison!" Because that deer fell over like a sack of potatoes. We all but tore the door off of our blind getting out to go see him up close. And then there were pictures and high fives. And hugs. Madison and I are girls, after all. She ran all the way back to the truck at full speed. It was the perfect hunt. Big on antlers and excitement. Small on waiting and waiting to see anything, and small on suffering--for the deer. On my slower walk back to the truck, it became obvious to me that Madison is already irrevocably hooked on two things: hunting and her daddy. Just like me.