My Angel

Bailey saw me this morning treating my spider bites. He was so sweet and concerned. He said, "Uh Oh, Mama. Itsy Bitsy Spider bit you? A booboo?" and leaned down to kiss my leg which I had just buttered in ointment. When I told him not to kiss it, this upset-frightened look washed across his little face and I felt horrible.
Being pregnant and hormonal- I cried. I scooped him up and thanked him for taking such good care of Mama. Kissed his soft cheek 30 times and squeezed him tight.
These moments with him make me believe in Heaven. He is more precious than anything on earth and I think... Oh this is why I was born.To be his mother.
Whatever, now I'm crying again!
I think I'll go upstairs and watch him sleep and Jami will have to whisper-fight me not to pick him up.

BFF's

My best friend, Janelle and I have known each other from the bus stop in elementary school. Throughout the years, our lives have changed so much and certainly not how we imagined they would.
At first, we used to chuckle how we were only friends out of geographical  convenience. But now that we have both moved around a bit, one of us across the damn country... It sparked a new definition. Sometime after high school, we agreed that our friendship was based on our mutual dislike for particular things and  people. Still partly true.  However now, I have a new clarity regarding how two unlikely people could remain friends for so long.
We both are incredibly loyal.  A quality I most respect.  We have each others back- always.  We've never hesitated to wave our fingers and raise voices to defend each other. People have thrown their stones at me in the past and Janelle has  picked them up and thrown them back.
Another thing, We love each others families. Janelle and I are the two biggest Mama's girls you'll ever meet. Our mother's loved us both even when Janelle and I didn't love each other. I think they knew we'd fix it. Janelle was a sister to my sisters, even fighting with them sometimes. And now, even though Bailey calls her Aunt Janelle. It's really like he has two Moms. And ones a little stricter... He's lucky and I'm lucky to have her.
I have very few memories that don't include my best friend. And the rest are ridiculous, hilarious, great memories  that I hope to share on this blog. Oh geez, I've gone sappy... whatever.

Lucky Me

I may be blessed but I'm certainly not lucky. Take for example: About a week ago, a spider ripped into my pregnant cankles like it was Thanksgiving. All the while, my husband slept peacefully beside me, unscathed.
Now my legs look like two burned hot dogs and I can hardly walk. NOT FAIR! My inner child stomps her foot. If I have to be the one to vomit for months and birth the children, my husband should bear the bites, the doctor appointments, the antibiotics, and the constant itching. Oh no, that's all me.  Where's the justice?
And if Jami tells me not to scratch one more time I'm going to plant spiders in his shoes so he can share in the suffering.
He better not bother me because I have a feeling this could be one of those days I hate him because he's breathing too loud.
DAMN ALL THE SPIDERS! and HUSBANDS! What-thehell-Ever!

Procrastinate Pregnancy

In case no one caught that I have 1.5 children... I'll explain. I am currently 15 weeks pregnant with  my second child. And like my first pregnancy, it's been rough. I'm not one of those women that glow and adore being "with child". I'm the puffy, cranky, pukey kind of pregnant and have to remind myself daily that it will all be worth it in the end.
It'll be just a few more weeks before I can find out if Bailey will have to share all  his trucks or if he will be stuffed with plastic scones and imaginary tea. And as excited as I am to have my full bladder slathered with goo and prodded... I'm trying not think about it too much. Because if I did,  I'd have to face how utterly unprepared I am this time around.
It was different with Bailey. I wasn't working. I was still in nursing school and living yelling distance from my parents. I didn't have a mortgage. I wasn't married at the time which classified me as a "single mother" and afforded me state insurance. Oh and the biggest thing of all... I didn't have  another child to care for.
It's weird for me not to have a plan and my shit together. I've been putting everything off until "I know what it is".  In a few weeks it will be real and I'll have to figure out what I need to buy, how I'm going to buy it, and how I'm going to get everything done while Jami, my husband, works 2 jobs and goes to school full time.  I'm focusing on now and the son that is at my feet asking for milk and goldfish crackers. Until then- whatever.

D. Kelly LPN

My Best Friend and Husband could probably recite this rant. As I go off about it whenever an opening presents itself. I NEVER wanted to be a nurse. But I was good at it and I knew it would be a wise career choice monetarily. And one other thing.  I never enjoyed school and the 11 month crash course seemed short enough to hold my interest.
Sure, Helping people, great. Very rewarding. But being a mother I am already responsible for one life. And trust me one is enough. If something happened to Bailey my life would become a prison of guilt. So sure, lets add 30+ more lives into my TWO hands.
What you rarely hear a nurse say is how scary it is. Nurses can not  make mistakes. And must catch the mistakes of their peers and even the all knowing Doctors we trust. Wow, that's a lot of pressure. One error we can be fired, licenses revoked, sued, or sent to jail. Well that's a risk nurses take to do what they love- to make a difference, to help, to heal.
It might seem glamorous or heroic to some but to me it's scary. I'm scared everyday I clock in. How could  I live with myself if I hurt someone? As humans, we make mistakes. As nurses, we can't. Am I super-human? Are my peers?
I'm hoping this blog will open the lid on my life, the metaphorical pressure cooker. And I hope my future nurtures the creative, fun Whitney I remember.
Go ahead. I'm being dramatic. Say it. "Whatever Whitney".

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday, Blog! It's your Mommy, Whitney. Where should I begin...?

Somehow at the young age of 24, I became a nurse, wife, mother, and home owner it what seemed like a whirlwind. My friends are still in college and discovering themselves while I'm changing diapers (both baby and adult). And when I look back on the past few years I wonder, why? What was the hurry? I should have gone away to school. Maybe gone to a few parties. Traveled. But no, and I have no regrets because I have a lot to be envied.
I am no different than any Jersey wife when asked about her husband... He's a pain in my ass! But he's mine. And though I will never love him any less, some days I may hate him more.
My son, Bailey, is in the prime of his terrible twos and is paying me back 3fold for all the strife my mother endured raising me (As she would tell you, I was not an easy child, in addition to a  few anecdotes about scenes I made).
The truest statement I could make about my life is this: the days are long but the 
 years are short.
I'm looking forward to having a vessel in which I can vent. I am very dramatic so feel free to check me. Roll your eyes and sigh "Whatever Whitney".