Sometimes you feel the spirit so strong, it is selfish to keep it to yourself.
I was driving home from Eager three years ago. It was a weekend trip with just me and my kids. I was driving home when the phone rang.
"Hi, Ruth? I just wanted to congratulate you. You were one of only 10 employees we have selected for the nurse practitioner scholarship."
"oh."
"Did you hear me ok? You got the scholarship."
The rest of the phone call was a blur. I just remember having to pull over afterwards and started crying. I would be obligated to work full time for 3 years. It was not tears of joy; I was scared out of my mind.
Fast forward two years. I thought everything was making sense. I had spent the last two years working in the Neuro ICU and going to school. Because of my neurology and intensive care experience, I was the first in my class to get a job offer-- make that 3 offers. I choose the more elite position with the best doctors, but it had a 50 minute commute.
I only had the job for a couple months, and I had just sent another kid to school that was probably too sick for learning when I started crying on my way to work. I had made the wrong choice. I was supposed to be home with my kids. I was working too hard.
This was the roughest time in my life, and my kids were struggling, too. Just when I needed friends the most, I was "too busy" for them.
And then the bomb dropped. The doctors I had been commuting for pulled out of my faraway hospital. I didn't know what that meant for me, but it felt... Ok.
There isn't many times you get a second chance.
I waited a couple months to weigh my options. One of the only opportunities available was to go back to nights (one of my original options). My husband was concerned for "my body and my temperament", but we have done it before.
Then one of my original doctors, and now friend, offered me a job. I was going to go to the meeting with the HR rep to gather information and then politely tell them I needed to work less. He met me there and said "go home, talk to your husband, and then tell me the schedule you want."
It was my dream job.
But I wasn't going to make the wrong choice again. I was reading one of my parenting books for insight when I was prompted to make a call to a local mother that I respected for help.
"Oh, Ruth. I don't know what you should do, but I know that your daughter was absolutely giddy when you were home on Monday."
I wasn't planning to have lunch with her or even volunteer in the classroom, but she was happy to know I was going to be close.
"Mom, when I turn the corner walking home from school, I pray your car is in the driveway."
Saturday, I headed to the temple; I needed more meditation and personal revelation. Clear as day it hit me:
1. Home one day a week for therapy appointments.
2. Home in the morning before school.
3. Home when they get home for school.
Unfortunately, I could only see this working if I was back at nights.
The Family Proclamation says, "mothers are primarily responsible for the nurture of their children." My decision was not based upon what is best for me; it is what is best for my children.
Me and the owl. Friends again.
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