April 17, 2015

When I Grow Up

When I was little my dream was to be a nurse. Dressed all in white with that cute perky little hat sitting on top of my head–that was the picture I had in my mind. I think my dream job originated from being in the hospital when I was very young with pneumonia. I think it is probably my earliest memory. I was around 2, according to my parents, and I was a pretty sick little girl. I remember waking up in a crib, wearing my little hospital gown with baby chicks on it, crying because my daddy was not there. A nice nurse came in and told me that he had to go home to sleep and be with the rest of the family but he would be back and I needed to go to sleep. I remember the music playing was the theme to A Summer Place. Whenever I hear that song it takes me back to that event in my very early life.

Just one problem with my dream job. A very big problem when it all comes down to it. I can’t stand the sight of blood. To the point where I faint. Seriously. It is ridiculous. One time I dropped the razor in the shower. I stepped on the razor and cut my toe. All I could see in my non-contacted-eyed state was a stream of red swirling down the drain. I got out of the shower and laid on the floor. The hubby who was still in bed came in because he heard some commotion in the bathroom. I told him I cut myself. He examined my toe. He laughed at me. Yes, he laughed at me!!! Evidentially it was a microscopic cut that he could not even find . He gave me a towel and left me lying on the floor. Sympathetic, huh? I recovered and have lived to write about it. So obviously I learned early on that me + blood = disaster. Fortunately even though I birthed two boys they were not into huge bloody incidents—a few broken bones along the way but I was spared the gushing blood events for the most part. Good thing. They would have been on their own for that.

So what else does someone who has the dream of helping others pursue when choice one evaporates?? Social work, of course. That is what I am trained for. Is it what I have done? Well, not for money. I have never worked in an actual social work job. I have volunteered in social work settings over the years but never actually pulled a paycheck in from any social work adventures. I have done a lot of free social work over the years when it comes down to it. It is just who I am. That need to help others is ingrained in me. It is part of my DNA.

My dream job quickly morphed from finding that dream paying job to being a stay at home mom. Not everyone is cut out for it. Not everyone can financially afford to do it. Not everyone wants it. But I did and I was blessed to be able to do it. I loved being there for the boys 24/7. I loved being the home that the other kids came to. I love the relationship that I have with our boys. It is strong and something to be proud of. Would I have had it if I had worked fulltime when they were younger—maybe so—but maybe not. I honestly think not. I love being “mom” to some of their friends even now. It is the best gig I could ever have wanted.

Other jobs came and went over the years—substitute teaching, helping out the hubby at the family business, secretary at a great church and the last adventure was being in charge of small groups and outreach projects which was the most fulfilling of my outside the home jobs. I loved it. The time was right for it and it stretched me and grew me into a more confident person. But now the road I travel is one of no employment by choice and the opportunity to be available to family . My social work continues in a different ways. The perfect dream job??? For me it has evolved. For each stage of my life it has been different. Today I embrace it and accept what it is for the moment. I am happy and content in my role .

As long as there is no blood involved.

What is YOUR dream job?