Tuesday, January 29, 2008

This morning the alarm came much too early. I drug myself out of bed to see to two hungry children pacing the floors. I quickly sprouted another pair of arms and at the same time I: made coffee, made a bowl of cereal, heated up a breakfast burrito, threw some laundry in the dryer, signed two agendas, chewed out my son for not listening in class, and listened to the morning conference call with my phone of mute and speaker from the counter in the kitchen. My kids are used to hearing words like "brain dead", "trauma", "IPD, SDH" and "withdrawing care". Its almost as common to them as Sponge Bob saying "I want a crabby pattie!". Are they traumatized from it? No. Unless you call yelling at the other kids in the neighborhood to wear their helmets or they will be ''organ donors''. I am thinking I dont mind being on call today, I have had some time off. Went camping with the family, have had to time to regroup myself, drank far too much etoh and ate too much bad food, but it felt good. My younger son and I went mountain bike riding about 5 miles, he hung tough the whole way and found it incredibly fun on the downhill path back until a bump came up and threw him face first into the dirt, making him bleed on his lip and elbow. But he was ok, he says to me "good thing I had my helmet on mom!" I am thinking, uh yeah... This job makes you paranoid, as I have said before...

I am about ready to head home from the city if things stay the way they are, knock, knock.

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