Month: February 2014

On Friday’s we silence the inner critic. The loudest of all naysayers. And on Fridays we remind ourselves that The Word is for us and loves us and welcomes us.
So come and write with us. Together. On one word for five minutes. Here are all the details. And then link up your post or leave it in the comments. But remember, the one must rule here is that you visit the person who linked up before you and encourage them in their writing.
That’s it. The gift of encouragement – pass it on.
Today the word is the one that’s been beating hard in my heat the last couple of weeks.
Today the writing prompt is SMALL.
I have struggled with feeling small lately. Like my days and activities are small compared to everyone else’s.
See, I used to be somebody. I was present when babies were born for hundreds of families. I taught mommies how to swaddle their babies, I calmed fears and coached labors.
I taught future nurses how to be nurses. I taught them how to care for people, how to recognize symptoms and intervene. I drew concept maps, graded care plans and shaped futures.
These days I teach ABCs and numbers. Some days I feel like I’m failing. We’re still working on telling the difference between green and blue. I make peanut butter and jelly, paper plate face masks and shape play dough.
And some days I wonder if it all matters. I feel small.
You see, I’ve bought in to the expectation that I have to do something the world deems worthwhile to be important. And the world does not value motherhood. So I feel small.
I have a Masters degree. It allows me to teach some from home and for that I am thankful. But when I tell people I’m a stay at home, homeschooling mother, most of the time I qualify it by adding the fact that I’m a nurse too…and I teach nurses (not just my children).
We worked for years for me to be able to stay home. It was our goal…it’s what we were working for. And I remember what it was like to go out the front door everyday.
I remember the struggle of leaving sick babies on snowy days to go to clinical. I remember driving away with little noses pressed to the window waving good bye to mommy and crying as I drove to work. I remember putting on the brave face and teaching those nurses.
And now here we are.
I am home, and grateful but some days I still feel small.