I don't usually share about my personal life on here but since I have requested prayers from anyone who actually reads me, I think you deserve this post. And since timing coincides with this link-up, here is a more personal one.
But you'll have to scroll through the fluff first. Hahaha.
We got a cat at the beginning of last month. First we named her Alexandria. But it didn't fit well and it was too hard for our son to say, so we renamed her Rosie. It was my idea. Since the boys are named after saints, I figured the cat should be too. I thought Rosie would work, after the "Little Rose," Terese of Liseux.
We have a pocket gopher problem and they've been slowly spreading over the last month. But it makes for great geological dig sites for the boys, so I can't complain too much.
Of course, you have to love a good crisp morning walk.
And finally, the answer to many prayers from me, my friends and family:
A friend who also got in said, "I keep waiting for my acceptance letter to self destruct after reading." I feel the same. I know I still have two years before this is all said and done, but my job exhausts me. Psychology is not and never was for me. I have lost my charitable attitude towards my patients. I'm tired of getting peed on, pooped on, bit, hit, punched, kicked, and a first from the weekend, the back of my neck strangled. I'm tired of being a pion at work, and I know that when I'm an RN I will never take the aids I have to work with for granted. And yes, I know these things are all just as likely to happen to me as an RN too. But this weekend, while helping a patient clean up in the bathroom, the patient grabbed me by the back of the neck and let me tell you, it was the most painful thing I've yet put up with at work. The person can't help it due to their diagnosis, but for cripes sake, my charge nurse acted like it didn't matter because "[they were] hallucinating."
I have no patience left for my kids when I get home in the morning. It has gotten to the point where my son repeatedly tells me "Mommy, I sorry for making you mad" almost every day that follows a work night, despite the fact that I cut back on my hours in August. I can't stand that. My boys deserve so much better than a mother who is on edge and upset all the time. So much prayer over the last year has been devoted to receiving this letter, with those words, that when I opened the mail the other day I actually cried. And I swear to you, I'm not a crier. All the stress, all the emotional struggles from work, the knowledge that I have something to actually look forward to, just caught up with me. I didn't even cry after my kids were born...so this means a lot.