Irreverent Eloquence

        I've not been writing much lately and the lack of making time is getting to me. The reality of life can always be an excuse but there are myriads of others to use, an oxymoron really is the best one for me: I have too much to say.        Does it ever get that way in your head? The thoughts and ideas bouncing around, crowding everything together and jumbling it into a mess rather than a clear and delineated cerebration. It feels like craziness to me right now, this absolute chaos that cannot be calmed and quieted neither inside nor out the confines of my brain. It's best to state it to my family when it gets to this point, I've figured that out on more than one occasion.        Once, while pregnant with my third and visiting family for Thanksgiving, I lost it in front of everyone. The women, at least five grown and three little girls in tow, had all gone shopping and left the men home to cook supper and converse. Much to my dismay, and to the continued and ev

       I woke up Saturday morning a little bleary-eyed. My two-year old had come bounding into my bed, all sunshine and smiles and happiness for a little before 8am. She always wakes up on the right side of the day, has always been a morning person. No surprise as she clamored about, bouncing and chattering away as she is wont to do. After successfully managing to divert her attention to her daddy's hideout in the bathroom, I rolled over and feigned sleep again as she slid down my bed and pitter-pattered her way to greet him.        His morning greeting to me for doing this was not so polite. "Hey babe, are these your old glasses?" he asked me through the half-cracked door. I knew they were not, that my old pair was buried under magazines and pajamas in my nightstand. "No," I groaned,"Gretchen, bring me back my glasses."        She smiled again when she handed them to me, sans one bow. My husband had the other and proceeded to tell me that without a

       I had the best day today. I slept well, even snuggled up next to my two year old for the last few hours of my short morning. She didn't pin me in the "H for Hell" position but rather nuzzled in under my chin, sharing her warmth and love in her slumbering state, all innocent and peaceful in her tiny nightgown and diaper. My alarm went off and I rolled out of bed without needing the snooze. I put my girl back in her own bed before I dressed for work and she stayed asleep while I got ready. I kissed my snoring husband good-bye and peeked at a perfect blood sugar on our oldest before I headed out the door.        I ate the most delectable deep purple plum on my drive, listening to the radio and not even getting annoyed with the silly banter of the morning djs; the drive went quickly and I was smiling and ready to be a nurse when I walked to get my assignment. Put on a unit where I thrive, I was given a great line-up of patients and enjoyed doing the best parts of my

       A tornado has ripped through our home. Somehow in the last month, life has gotten away from us and we have been left with chaos. I have been blessed with a few "free" days this week, a guilty pleasure of leaving my girls with Grandmas and escaping into work, a lunch date with a friend, and putting my butt-shape back into my cushion on the couch. I've walked into the disaster area of my house at least twice each day, carefully made my way around the piles of luggage in the entryway, the stacked mail on the counter, and pointedly ignored the empty fridge. Today is the day though to rectify the mess, to put on my housewife apron and get down to it.        It's 3pm and I haven't started. Well, that isn't exactly true...I did the dishes and started a load of laundry. I opened the stack of mail and paid all the bills for the month. I sorted through ALL my inboxes (trust me, over 750 emails made their way through the trash or archives and that was amazing!)