When I first started blogging I had the intentions of posting AT LEAST once per month. (Such high standards, right?!) And I actually did commit to frequently writing my thoughts, but somewhere between putting pen to paper and actually posting online, I got distracted. Go figure! I'm going to play catch-up now and post some thoughts I had way back when.
August 28, 2013
I haven't worked in over six months and I am REALLY enjoying my time off. That being said, there are about 12 things I miss about my job and they happen to be some of the best friends a gal could have. The work we do is hard. It is physically exhausting, mentally draining, emotionally challenging and requires that we sometimes neglect our own families to care for a complete stranger. So while I am home caring for my Sweet P I am constantly thinking about my friends who are meeting the demands of caring for our community. Occasionally I even make it there for a visit and bring them a sweet treat to remind them that I love them, miss them and appreciate them. Also, I'm hoping that when I do return to work they remember my kind gestures and take good care of me when I'm weeping in the corner because I miss my kid.
On my last visit I brought Mark and Sweet P with me. She was a huge hit with all of my coworkers but there was one person who seemed the most enamored with her. And he came in the form of a very drunk, very boisterous yet very pleasant older man. If I had a dollar for every time he asked if he could hold her I would have had enough money to buy him a fifth of his liquor of choice. And when I pretended not to hear him ask if he could hold her, he switched his approach and just said "my turn" whenever she got passed from one coworker to another. Still, we did not entertain the idea of him holding her. (Shocker, right?) So when he finally felt he had been ignored long enough he attempted the boldest move yet-- he came right up and reached out for her. And as if in slow motion, she reached toward his outstretched arms and grabbed ahold of his finger. The one with weeks, if not months, worth of dirt under his inch long fingernail. But just as soon as she had gripped his finger, she let go and left him with a huge, beaming smile on his face. And he softly said "Thank you. She is beautiful. I will look for her in the commercials on tv that have the beautiful kids." This man had filthy hands, yes. He smelled strongly of urine and alcohol, true. But my precious girl didn't notice, and if she did, she didn't care. She just saw another human being in need of a smile and soft touch and she gave it to him. Already making me proud.
