I was still very sleepy when I woke up this morning. I spent the day thinking long and hard about my plans for the evening. They were as follows: leave work, go to the gym, go home, vacuum, eat dinner, wash dishes, go to bed around 8:30.
Then reality set in. I got stuck at work a half hour late because extreme craziness tends to set in pretty regularly at work. In fact, sometimes I wonder if extreme craziness is actually the status quo, but I digress. So at 5pm, I leave work ready to head for the gym.
However, my toe is throbbing from an incident I had the day before. See, I'm going on vacation in a few weeks and to get ready, I have a suitcase on my bedroom floor that I'm throwing clothes in that I may want to bring. Yesterday, I was rushing (late as usual) and I ran into the bedroom to grab my phone off the headboard. OUCH!!! I stubbed my pinky toe in the suitcase. Of course I wasn't wearing any shoes. I figured it would be fine and threw on shoes- having practically forgotten about the whole incident- and off to work I went. I wasn't at work 20 minutes before I started limping around. I decided that something didn't feel right and merited further investigation. I unzip my heeled boot and pull my sock off. My little toe was swollen and bruised. And still throbbing. So I went wee, wee, wee all the way to the ibuprofen. Then changed into my sneakers. As an update, it is less swollen today, more bruised and still throbbing. But it's my pinky toe, so if I was to seek further medical attention, I would be told that there's nothing else to be done.
So back to this evening. I decided to give my toe another days rest before I start to stress it again. I figured that I would go to my parent's office to hand out Christmas cards.
Upon arriving to the office, there were 3 kids, who looked vaguely familiar, sitting behind a desk. There was no insureds in the office. I passed out the cards, not really acknowledging the kids, until my mom said, "Kier, haven't they gotten big?" Immediately recognizing them as my dad's friend's kids, I felt like an idiot for not saying anything before. I chatted with them for a few minutes, but kept it very light. The kids are probably about 14, 12, and 10. I knew that their mother had recently passed away and there were issues about placement. Philosophically, I don't see how there could be issues since their biological father was there, willing and wanting to be their primary caregiver, but again, I digress. Talking to my parents quietly in the back office, I find out that their father had been awarded full custody, and the kids were less than thrilled about this prospect. The kids have drifted away from their father the past few months, and honestly I don't know why.
I also find out that my dad is keeping an eye on the kids until later that evening when their dad gets off of work. I suggest that we get some pizza to give them for dinner. I mean, who doesn't get excited about pizza for dinner, really?
My mom gives me money and I go pick up the pizza. Delicious. Then, my dad has to go to a meeting so my mom and I offer to bring the kids to meet up with their father.
We get to the house that their dad has recently moved in to (in anticipation of having full custody). The apartment is beautiful!! But the kitchen doesn't have a lot of food in it. There was some, but it was by no means a fully stocked kitchen. And the furnishings are a bit sparse. The kids all have beds and blankets, but I can't help but notice that their dad's room is empty. I neglected to mention that he's not the most well off. But knowing him, he wouldn't care where he had to sleep as long as his kids were comfortable. My mom and I left as they were getting ready to head out to get some things for the kids.
My mom and I weren't in the car 30 seconds before we were discussing our plan. See, my mom is a bit of a pack rat. And as much as I try to fight it, I inherited that gene. My issue is that I feel empathetic for inanimate objects, so I can't throw them out. However, when I'm giving them to someone, especially someone who will be happy to have them, I could get rid of tons and tons of stuff.
Our first stop was my house. I have a comforter for my bed and an extra one for guests, but I knew I had another one just sitting in my closet. I grabbed that and a bunch of food from my cabinets. Then we went to the convenient store where we got milk, bred and a few other things (like cookies and chocolate milk). Then we went to my parent's where we grabbed some ziti and sauce, a pillow and an old mattress.
We loaded up the car and went back to their house. They weren't home. We didn't expect them to be. So we placed everything on the front porch and took off.
I used to worry about animals- homeless pets especially. I wanted to adopt every last one. I kind of still have those feelings when I see pets in shelters. Or that I click on theanimalrescuesite.com at least once a day. But my problem has expanded. Now it includes people, too. I mean, firstly, look at the kind of place I work in. And that I brought one of the kids to my house for thanksgiving. And this whole "Santa" project that I started at work (more about that later) and that I'm volunteering to go in on my day off to cook food and help decorate for the Christmas party. Look at the fact that I really hope to adopt a baby when I grow up. So I'm sure that it's not surprising that I couldn't sleep knowing that this man, who I've known for years, who loves his kids more than anything, would be sleeping on the floor without a blanket. Or being afraid that the kids would ever have to go to sleep without full bellies.
So there it was. My evening. I really wanted to be in bed by 8:30, and I didn't even walk in the door and sit down until 10. I was thinking on my drive home. I had figured that with all the recent changes I'd been through, I would be able to focus on myself. Not worry about anyone else. Just get to know who I am. But I've realized in the past 6 months that it's not me to just worry about myself. My whole life, I've been looking out for other people. Just ask my poor sister. I'm sure it felt like she had 2 mom's growing up sometimes because I was such a mother hen. I'm a nurse, so right there I get paid to worry about other people. That's just who I am. And I also realized that that's the way I like it. I like to make sure that other people are taken care of. I'm not set for life or anything, but I am not struggling as much as many people are now. So why shouldn't I have done what I could to help that family out.
I think that I am definitely becoming the person I've always wanted to be. I am becoming a "do-er." In stead of saying, "Someone should really..." I am starting to be that someone. And, even though I don't like to worry about myself (of maybe it's just that I worry about myself last), I'm starting to become an active person for myself. A self-advocate if you will. I plan to start college again in the fall to work towards my bachelors. A bachelors in what, I'm not sure. But I have plenty of time to figure out what I want to do with my life.
I hope things will go smoothly. And it should, because for the first time in my life, I am happy being me. Not me in relation to anyone else; not happy to be this one's friend, or that one's wife, of this one's daughter. Just happy to be me in the world. I can actually say that I am a cool person. And if you know me at all, you know it's a big deal for me to feel that way about myself.
PS- I'll fill you in on that "Santa" project later. Bed time (though slightly later than planned).
