We're made of the same stuff

This cracks me up more than most things.

Happy Thanksgiving, friends

do you have any idea how delighted I am?

I get to hang out with this guy in Georgia over Thanksgiving break.
When he was 1 day old I got mad that I couldn't hold him, scooted angrily across mom's hospital bed, and kicked him in the head by accident with my black patent leather mary-janes.
He's okay now though.
Tonight he took me on a drive. We listened to terrible music and rode up and down hills. Hills! They don't have those in Kansas.
Do you know what else they don't have in Kansas? Dam stores. Not sure why.

a lot of sister memories for some reason

It's a late night at Miller Nichols library. There's an older gentleman here sitting by me who has been on his phone for 48 minutes now. He's complaining to a friend about some situation in the community. I know the main floor of this library is not labeled a "quiet zone", but come on now. Forty eight minutes of audible complaining? Who can stand it?

I must make sure I have a constant stream of music playing in my ears or I'll have a conniption. 

This song just played on my shuffle. 

Once, almost three years ago, I flew to Florida in the summer to visit my family. I was wearing this outfit:

I thought I looked cute. I thought I looked SO cute. My mom and sister pulled up outside of baggage claim and picked me up. I was so excited to see them, especially in my cute outfit. Those two arrived in a silly mood and spent exactly 4 seconds greeting me with hugs and the next 2 minutes exclaiming over how disjointed my outfit was. 

"The colors don't match! What is HAPPENING with that necklace? Since when do you have those bangs? Is this how they dress in Kansas City? Bethany, really, what's going on here?" 

I tried to explain myself for a little bit, but I got my feelings hurt pretty early and gave up. I told them I didn't want to hear another word of opinion about my outfit and plugged my pink iPod mini into the car stereo, picked this song, and turned the volume up. 

There was awkward silence for 58 seconds. 

Then Deb Talan sang "I don't give a damn. I'm happy as a clam. Nobody knows me at all".

And then the three of us just died laughing in that car. We laughed so hard we cried. 

The air smelled like ocean and we wiped away salty tears from our faces and flew down a sunny interstate lined with palm trees. 

the chicken or the egg, if you will

"The great question in the history of healthcare is still whether women defined caregiving, or caregiving defined women."
-Linda Wright

just another post on my medical terminology class

But seriously. This word is ridiculous.
I love it.

does this make my bag look big?

Be honest.

schmesolution.

One of my new year's resolutions was to be a little more put-together. You know. Wear make-up. Fix my hair. Something.

Well, I'm not sorry to report that it's November and I am sitting in the library wearing hand-me-down jeans, an ancient hoodie (I'm talking middle school, people), and no makeup. To be completely transparent, I didn't shower today. Even contacts were too much for me to deal with and so I'm wearing my glasses.

It's just the way I am. Is this wrong? I refuse to believe it should be my lot in life to spend precious minutes matching colors and painting on powders and blotting lipstick. I don't know. I could be wrong. This is why I left the south. 

My sister came to visit last January. She and Dad drove 12 hours through a snow storm to get to Kansas City. I knew they would be exhausted and stressed when they arrived. As soon as they piled in the door, I greeted them with hugs and offered food, a hot drink, my warm bed, the bathroom, whatever they needed to rest from their long and arduous journey. My sweet sister looked at me with sparkling blue eyes framed with eye-liner and mascara and asked: "Do you have any hair-spray?" 

I blinked at her a couple of times, then turned silently and walked down the hall where I rummaged deep into the contents of my bathroom closet until I came up with a can of old, cheap hairspray. I handed it to her and watched as she stood in front of my mirror and liberally sprayed the liquid glue all over her head, shaking her blonde curls like Farrah Fawcett in a summer breeze. There was a look of tranquility on her face. When she was done, she turned to me and said; "It just doesn't feel right without hair-spray". 

Someone tell me how we're related.

here goes nothing

This weekend, I got to attend the 16th Annual Midwest Child Life Conference. It was my first experience at a Child Life event with Child Life people in a Child Life setting. As I was getting ready for the first morning's session, I felt a little bit like I was headed into the first day at a new school. Luckily, I've done that a few other times in my life (9, actually), so I adopted the old familiar "fake it till you make it" attitude.
I would just like to say that after two days of hearing from and being around Child Life Specialists, I have come to the conclusion that this field is full of incredibly intelligent, beautiful, compassionate, and strong women. Yes, women. The only man I saw all weekend was the tech support fellow who had to run all over the hospital getting microphones and projectors to work for us. This job is to women as fire fighting is to men.
I am both terrified and delighted at all this is going to require of me. I'm going to have to explore the tragic depths of what it means to nurture and support a child through traumatic circumstances. My daily task list could involve anything from distracting a child during a spinal tap, to facilitating a play group for kids receiving chemo, to helping parents explain to their child what their diagnoses means, to holding babies in the NICU when parents have to leave to go to work.
I've had more than one moment already where I've stopped to ask myself just who I think I am to think I could possibly handle this responsibility. I'm not sure. I don't even know if I'll get through to the end of the process. I still have to complete a practicum, then an internship, and then a certification exam before even looking for a job. But I'm excited see what happens and how I learn and grow throughout the process.
Here goes nothing.