I Love the Smell of Napalm in the Morning

Nightmares.  Cold sweats. Paranoia.  Feeling anxious.  Loss of sleep.  I'm starting to think that I suffer from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder...."But, Cathy," you say.  "You've never been in the military, been shot at or suffered any sort of life altering altercation that forever changed you.  It can't be possible."  Well, not making light of anyone who has ever served our nation, but this disorder affects many, and I feel...if you've ever been regularly on-call - you might have PTSD as well.

Let me explain:

For an entire week (out of a month) from the hours of 10pm - 7am M-F I am at the mercy of an on-call phone. These hours are much extended through the weekend.  This phone beeps, rings, buzzes and is nothing short of hell on earth.  I can't sleep.  Motor skills fail.  Normal thought process has a break down.  I begin to think I hear people talking about me.  I form conspiracy theories (ok, you caught me.  I form MORE than usual)  And granted, it may have been due to rampant caffeine consumption - I have had waking hallucinations.  I've awoken from a tortured slumber shouting, "I have to call the customer!"  And, most importantly, I know all of the shit hit the fan on my watch on purpose.  You did it, didn't you?!?!

And then there is relief.  The following Monday morning, bright and early at 7am, I arrive at my office.  I'm haggard.  I'm pissed off.  I'm psychotic (again...a bit more than normal, OK?  Don't judge me!).  I'm temporarily deaf in my left ear and for a brief moment I smile.  Sinisterly.  I place the on-call phone on the desk of one of my beloved coworkers and maniacally laugh that it is now going to be their pain and not mine.  MANIACAL LAUGH!

I spend the entire next week trying to reclaim missed hours of slumber (I've even been known to skip dinner to catch a nap on the couch).  I walk around jumping at every buzz or ring in my house - having awful flashbacks to my most recent on-call.  I refuse to answer any phone.  There are still nightmares, though.  Visions of dastardly hackers finding their way into my home & personal life through my unsecured computer and/or voicemail.  I get the shakes even worse as I begin to wean myself off of the caffeine.

I spend the following week vegging out and enjoying a life outside of work.  I play with my kids.  I make dinners.  I bake.  I smile more.  I'm able to write blog posts.  I notice that my husband is a wonderful human being.  The Delirium Tremors have mostly stopped.  I'm free to call and text and answer phones and surf the interwebs.  I've stopped wishing plague upon the masses.

Just about the time that I think I won't need any personal therapy and will be able to continue my life in a relatively happy and somewhat normal function, I go back on-call.  AAAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHH!  And the vicious circle continues...

Thanks, Mom!

I was remiss last week in my posting diligence - I was busy sucking up time with my kids.  I had missed them, you see, after grown up weekend - and took some extra time to revel in all things Mom...which brings me to this upcoming Mother's Day.

I've been thinking about what this day meant to me before these little rays of shining light came into my life, what it means to me now and what I really truly want for my special moments.  I can remember planning things - gifts or events or brunches for my own mother and wistfully thinking, "When I'm a Mom, this day is going to be soooo fabulous."  I find the day ends up being much more harried, stressed and frenzied than most other days as we try to cram his mother, my mother, her mother, their mother, its mother and any other mother on the face of the planet into our day.  I end up day dreaming....

I think of fat babies who smell like cookies and powder and love.  I find myself reliving first giggles and those first tentative "Mama"s.  I imagine future door slamming and "This hurts me more than it hurts you".  And I wish for silly moments crowded on my huge bed with funny faces, happy laughter, the world's greatest huggies and my family...to go on forever.

I know Moms who have loved & lost.  I'm familiar with Moms who are gone and will never be forgotten.  Moms to be and Moms who will cry over never being.  And I'm especially fond of my own mom.

She's this amazing kook, who has no idea what she's really worth.  I am absolutely certain she is the only person on earth to ever: earn my love, not deserve my hate, endure my wrath, pick up my broken pieces, foster my dreams, sooth my broken heart, suffer my disdain, combat my ridicule, provide me with a sense of worth and quietly know all about me - successfully.  Who else in this lifetime could accomplish that?  Only someone truly special.

It's with that said that I've come to realize over the years that Mother's Day isn't something fabulous.  It's about a lingering hug, and an exchanged glance that can speak more in three seconds than anyone could begin to put in words in the rest of a lifetime...and a carefully whispered, "I love you."