freckly, fireworky, fremonty, fourth & fifth.

My day of celebrating the US of A's birthday started with working until 7:30a. I didn't mind. Overtime is [almost] always good :) I slept a bit, but made myself crawl out from under my down comforter earlier than usual so that I could get outside in the beautiful Seattle sunshine. I saw most of Seattle on the Burke-Gilman during my usual bridges run. Running in sunshine = FRECKLES. I got home, packed my bag with BBQ necessities, and hopped on my cool collapsable boardwalk bike to a friend's house. The 5 minute bike wasn't enough, so after I dropped of my bag, I took my bike back out to the Burke, biked the short mile and a half between the Ballard and Fremont bridges. My friend's didn't mind. Biking in sunshine = FRECKLES. A beautiful dinner with friends, and then we headed to Fremont. The entire population of Seattle had moved from the Burke-Gilman to Gasworks park. It was an amazing site. Every square foot of that park was covered with bodies. Most of the group stayed for the fireworks show. I on the other was on people-overload. The thought of fighting my way out of Gasworks with the thousands of other people was not a happy one. So Karie and I walked back into the heart of Fremont, toasted America at the Red Door, walked back to her house, and finshed off her homemade nectarine cobbler while watching the very same firework show on her rooftop patio.

My fifth has been just as freckly. Since I was able to sleep during my usual working hours, I made myself get up in the morning. While I like working nights, I MISS, MISS, MISS my mornng runs. It was even more beautiful out than the day before. After I ran, I promptly showered, threw on a sundress, and walked out the door. I walked to Fremont, grabbed a groovy green smoothie, read by the canal, and then bought white nectarines from PCC. I discovered a new favorite! Mama Chia cherry lime juice/drink. A bit pricey, but absolutely amazing! The most delicious way to get my Omega-IIIs. The texture will blow your mind. I walked back to Queen Anne.... walking in sunshine = FRECKLES. Are you sensing a theme here? I wasn't as smart as I usually am though. I was sun hungry. Hour long runs in the sun, no big deal. Two hours spent sitting in the sun with sunscreen on only my face, big deal. My shoulders are a bigttoasty [read: WAY toasty]. I know better this. My red-headed head and pale skin knows better than this. Woops.

All this to say, my freckles are officially OUT. Happy summer!

hiatus.

A blogging hiatus. That's ok... worse things have happened. Lately: I've worked more nights than I can remember, am in a constant state of nocturnal jet lag, am in the throes of half marathon training, and have been putting arugula into everything I eat. I've been keeping the Queen Anne farmer's market in business.

Now on to 7 days off. I love being a nurse.

cupcake vitamins.

Mini red velvet cupcakes are so small. So small they don't really count. Little cupcake vitamins. I whipped up a batch along with some cream cheese frosting today to bring to Monday evening Bible study.



And now, I baking turkey meatballs in the very same mini muffin tin. Good stuff all around.

mmm...

Candied ginger, a bowl of kettle corn, and a glass of sparkling water on a Friday night. Pair that with my ever-changing netflix queue, and you have a happy girl. I need nights like these.

My sister is getting married!

I love her to death and couldn't be more excited for her and Luke!

1.26 kilograms

I held 1.26 kilograms to my chest last Saturday. I picked up an extra shift at TG last Saturday, and to my delight, was staffed downstairs in the NICU [lately, I've generally been put in the intermediate care nursery when called in]. I had a generally easy assignment. Two girls, and one precious IUGR baby boy. This little guy was tiny, 1.26 kilos; 2.7 pounds. According to his gestation, he should have been at least a kilo heavier. But he was an IUGR baby. Tiny little boy, with his precious big head [typical IUGR]. I cared for smaller babies before [a 600 gram baby; 0.6 kilos], but this particular little one was 1.26 kilos all by himself [aka. BREATHING all by himself].

I finished this little guy's care time, hooked up his feeding, and settled him in his nest. An hour later, I could hear his little cries from across the room, muffled by the heavy isolette doors. I would open his isolette, and put my hands on him to settle him. One had over his little body, and one hand cupping his head. Preemies do wonderfully with containment of any kind. He settled, and I quietly closed the isolette doors. A few minutes later, he was crying again. This little man should have been sleeping. There really was no reason for him to be awake. I would put my hands on him and settle him, and then he would wake up 20 minutes later.

Finally, I decided that I was going to take this little guy out and hold him. This is a luxury that NICU nurses almost never have time for. Either babies are too sick to be held, or parents and volunteer hold. Holding by nurses generally only happens when we bottle feed babies. As soon as they're done, they're back in their crib, and we're off to the next baby. I found that I had 30 minutes of extra time. Not ideal for holding a baby who depends on an isolette for maintaining their temperature, but I thought this little guy was tough enough. I set up my rocking chair, and took my precious little handful out and settled him on my chest. Babies, especially preemies, LOVE to be held skin-to-skin. They regulate their temperature perfectly, sleep better, and are healthier when held skin-to-skin on a regular basis. However, nurses aren't allowed to hold skin-to-skin. This little guy knew what he wanted though. He burrowed up against my neck, his little body right over my heartbeat. His tiny hand clasped the chain of my necklace. There was no way I was going to move him or take it away from him. He instantly settled, and we rocked for almost an hour. I suddenly found more time to hold him. I was exhausted. I had worked more overtime that week than I had ever worked before. But, I wouldn't have chosen to be anywhere but in that intensive care nursery at that moment; rocking and praying for the precious little boy in my arms.

If you had asked me five years ago, or even 10 months ago if I would have ever wanted to be a "baby nurse", I would have said an emphatic "NO." But as I rocked those 1.26 kilos, I was once again reminded of why I am a nurse. I never knew I would have the capability or desire to care for such a vulnerable population. But it is exactly the population I love, and it is exactly why I love being a nurse.

With two other babies calling my name, I put Mr. 1.26 kilos back in his isolette. He didn't even wake up. He was in a happy, deep, peaceful sleep. I am so blessed to be able to act as "mama" for this little guy for one hour. And five days later, I'm still thinking about those 1.26 kilograms.

red curry coconut

Happy tax day! [I got my tax return 4 weeks ago.... whaaat?!]

Yesterday, I had a revelation. The world was illuminated for a few moments. Senses were amplified. I was making red curry coconut noodles. With cups of tea in hand, MM and I made a thai dish that could rival Orrappin on Queen Anne [my favorite Thai joint!]. Here's my list of ingredients:

Coconut oil, ginger, red curry paste, chicken, coconut milk, sweet chili sauce, onion, red pepper, broccoli, rice noodles, and cilantro. Essentially, put these ingredients in one pot in that order. You will not regret this decision. However, I realized I just gave away what could have been quite possibly my super secret recipe to have for the decades to come. Oh well.

After eating hot, delicious noodles, we went to Menchie's for guava tart frozen yogurt. The day could not have gotten better.



I got called in to work at 11p. So I ate these noodles cold at 3am. Just as good.