Permission

My car was repossessed last week. I've been having trouble making payments for a while now. Despite my best efforts to work things out with the finance folks, they came in the night and took it. I've been struggling this week to get to and from work and to get Luke to and from daycare. People have helped and I am immensely grateful. I know that if they could help me get the car back, they would. I am blessed to have such good friends. I thought I had things figured out and that I could get an instant loan for the tax refund only to find out this morning that I wasn't approved and that I have to wait another 10 days. And I've been concerned that my car will be auctioned off before I can get the money. Luke's stroller and other things are in my car and I feel bad that I was careless enough to leave them there. This is a bad time for me but there is a bright side.

My email from "the universe" this morning said that I just need to give myself permission. And the universe will take care of everything else.

My life has seemed like this constant struggle. To raise myself and then my children. To care for my grandchildren, especially Luke, who is totally dependent on me. Getting my bachelor's degree and then the graduate degree. Working even though I'm medically disabled. Struggle and more struggle.

Struggling hasn't worked for me and we all know what it means to keep doing the same thing expecting different results. I just need to let go. Let go and give myself permission to expect miracles. I tend to get so caught up with worrying about what form the miracles will take. I know, I know, ridiculous. My worrying will only block miracles.

So here I am folks (and universe) -- letting go. I give myself permission to stop worrying. To stop struggling in the same old ways. And finally, permission to accept the miracles the universe has waiting for me.

From Rev Alicia

So...what are your "soul mate" thoughts? Are you looking for your "other half;" your soul mate? Have you found him or her? Do you believe such a thing exists?

I will never forget the day, when I was 15 years old, and my dad and I sat at the kitchen table and had a talk about these things. Now, to set the scene, you have to know that my mom and dad had an incredible marriage. They not only loved each other, they liked each other. They rarely fought, and had lots of fun. I surely would say that they were one-and-only soul mates. As my dad and I talked, I asked him if he believed that there was one perfect mate for each person. My romantic heart was horrified when he replied that he thought that a person could fall in love more than once, with more than one person, but when you make a decision that you will spend your life with one then you commit to that one for the rest of your life. Not the romantic reply that would support my "one and only" theory. Of course the reply I had been looking for was that when he saw my mom, it was all over; that was his one and only and there never was nor would there ever be another woman for him. As it turned out, my mom and dad were married for almost 60 years when he left this realm. And my mom still says that there was no one but my dad for her.

As I have come to grow and mature personally and spiritually I, too, have come to see things differently... differently than I had previously...differently than my dad. The concept of soul mate has changed dramatically for me. I have learned that "falling in love" and loving are two different things entirely. I learned that romance and soul mates are not mutually exclusive, nor are they always what we thought they were. To say that there absolutely either is nor is not such a thing as soul mate would be to limit God.

Like all of our wonderful, diverse universe of body, mind and spirit, the concept of soul mates is a paradox. So, I invite you to consider this possibility. In the Revealing Word, Charles Fillmore co-founder of Unity states: "Man is Spirit, soul, and body. Spirit is the I AM, the individuality (the God part of us). The body is soul expressing, and soul includes the conscious and subconscious minds. Soul makes the body, the body is the outer expression of the soul, and bodily health is in exact correspondence to the health of the soul."

In other words, the soul is the sum total of our present level of awareness. It is the vehicle through which we are growing and perfecting our awareness to it's full potential. This is the part of us that grows and develops as we mature and gain spiritual wisdom and understanding. The more we grow and develop, the more of our true essence; Spirit, we express...the more health we express...the more prosperity and harmony we express...the more love we express and experience.

Considering this...to me a soul mate is more like something we earn by right of consciousness than something we find by chance in the elevator, telling us "you complete me."

According to the law of attraction, we draw by right of consciousness that which we need for our spiritual growth. Could this mean that the unhappy relationship experiences we have had in the past were soul mates of sorts...helping us to develop our soul? And then when we "got it," when we learned the lesson, devloped the spiritual quality or strength, we were able to either release, or elevate that uncomfortable relationship to a higher level. Hmmm...worth pondering. Holding THAT thought, what if we quit too soon...before we "got" the lesson? What would we most likely attract then? This is where the "frying pan into the fire" cliche comes from.

I think that the biggest error belief that some of us tend to hold about soul-mates is that we will meet our soul-mate, fall in love at first sight, and live happily ever after. We think it will be easy and smooth riding for the rest of our lives.

Our relationships, like our souls, are vehicles through which we grow and develop. We learn and grow not by basking in the glow of romance, but by learning to give and receive and share; we learn and grow not by our easy compatibility but by overcoming our differences and challenges; we learn and grow not by the downhill coast, but by the uphill struggles we share and support each other.

And I embrace and even higher concept of soul-mate. I see all people, and all creation as soul-mates. Through our actions and interactions we come together to learn and develop as together we succeed, fail, love, hate, laugh, cry, pray and praise; as together we overcome self-centered narcissism in favor of the truth of our Oneness in Diversity. Then...and only then...will we truly, fully and completely experience our Oneness in God.

On being assertive/a hard ass

Having patients "no-show" for appointments is nothing new for many professions: doctors, nurses, and therapists. In the "world" being a therapist and having someone not show for their appointment can be frustrating and expensive. In prison, it is likewise quite frustrating. Because in this setting, I have to actually hunt them down and talk to them, even if they decide not to show. And they know this. They can request an appointment, knowing full well that their rights as offenders means I have to see them within 48 hours after I get their request. So I go through the TDC computer and have a special pass that gets printed and handed to them the night before, in their dorms, that says they have an appointment for the next day. They use that appointment to get out of going to work or to school or whatever. And sometimes, they then decide to just hang out in their dorm and sleep, watch TV, play dominoes, or whatever. After all, they know I've got to come find them, right? So that's what I've been doing. And whenever I try to bring this up as a therapeutic issue, they tell me they did not get their pass or else they got it and the security officers wouldn't let them. And because I do know these things are POSSIBLE, I have let them go. Other folks do not and write them disciplinary cases for this. So I finally started writing cases myself the other day. And sure enough, I had two patients who came in very angry with me. One reminded me that he was in prison for assault. Yet I held my ground and informed them that we would deal with their anger therapeutically. Likewise for their lack of accountability. It worked out okay and both ended up leaving much less angry than when they came in. Since I wrote an additional five cases yesterday, I'm sure I'll have lots more angry men on Monday. And eventually, I'll have a lot less no-shows. One of the nurses said I officially became a member of the hard ass club, congratulating me. And you know what? I'm okay with that. And with the respect that it garners.

Living alone (just the two of us)

The empty nest is underrated...Nora Ephron

That quote stays at the bottom of this blog but I don't think it's very noticeable. I always know it's there. And I fervently believe it. Not that this applies to Baby Luke, but it does to everyone else in my nest. Those who live in it and those who visit a bit too frequently. I'm dreaming of the day when Luke and I can move out and get our very own place. May 2007 is the plan.

We'll do very well in our own quiet home. I've always enjoyed living alone -- during the times when my little (or not so little) birds have flown away. Luke and I both do best with limited stimulation. I know, I know, I used to be somewhat of a social butterfly but that side of me comes out for very limited engagements now. And I've always liked a place to charge my batteries. Don't you all? One of my favorite readers just got her very own home and I know how much she adores it. Somehow I think she feels more alone in her house than she did living alone in an apartment. I can understand that. Of course, I also know she'll quickly fill the house with her beautiful art work and then with memories of good times with family and friends. But I do envy her. Not just for the very cute home, but for the place to herself. Luke and I would/will have a ball in our very own HOUSE! And that is something that I am intending for us. Would those of you who read this posting hold that thought for us? And while you're at it, hold the thought that I'll be able to keep Luke and raise him as my own. He already is, you know, in my heart.

Everything is relative

Yesterday, an inmate threatened to kill me. He was in my office, lunging over my desk, with spittle flying from his mouth as he described how he planned to do away with me. His plans were not very practical, if I must say, because he planned to "lethal injection" me. And as he was handcuffed at the time, with no syringe in sight, I felt rather safe from that threat. All the same, I still did not feel comfortable until I finally convinced the security officer to remove him from my office. Even then, he still loitered, shouting at me and about me, at my doorway. I promptly stood up, closed, and locked my door until he could be taken far, far away. Now the guy was genuinely psychotic and so I did not file charges against him. And I genuinely felt that I was in more danger from whatever his spittle might have contained. Spittle...handcuffs...lethal injection...everything is relative.

Today, I was called to an emergency in lock-up where an inmate was threatening to harm others because he had been denied his commissary. After hearing his story, I began to understand his concern. When you have been locked up in solitary confinement for 6 months, having a little store-bought food can be very important. Everything is relative.

Another emergency today, an offender was threatening to harm others because he was angry about being housed in a dorm he did not like. Two weeks ago, I shipped him to a crisis unit for similar threats. They sent him back, with notes that he was doing just fine. Today, I informed security they could take disciplinary action against him. He was just fine and I was an hour late leaving work. Everything is relative.

I get home, tired, hungry (no time for lunch again today), and in need of a bit of understanding. I have an argument with a family member who is not in the least understanding. Again with the relative.

I'm going back tomorrow and plunging in again. Surely I do more good than harm there. And being there will keep me from being here with the family. Everything is indeed relative.

More of life in prison

I feel at time that working in prison and coming home to live in the world is a bit like straddling two very different lifestyles. The lingo, for instance. To "buy the hog" or to "sell the hog" refer to playing a con game. The "hog" is a scam, B.S., or being played. This happens constantly. The offenders have nothing but time on their hands to find ways to con the employees. And they are very good at this. Remember, most of them have the diagnosis of Antisocial Personality Disorder. They have no qualms about hurting someone for personal gain. Sometimes the gain is leverage against an employee. If they can get close to that employee, by learning some personal information about them, they can eventually get that person to break a rule. Once the rule is broken, the offender will then use that to blackmail the employee to break more rules. Eventually the broken rules will include bringing contraband into prison or having sex or doing something else that will benefit the offender. Buying the hog is when the employee gets played. Sometimes the hog is very small. The offender may ask the employee for a paperclip. Contraband. Who would think? That's the thing, employees have to be constantly diligent. I believe this is more difficult for health care workers. We're trained to help people. Even inmates, right? That's our job. And the inmates love that. We're such easy prey. But I've noticed the guards are also easily played. The offenders will call the guards "boss" and the guards begin to depend on the subserviance for their own sense of self-worth. They compliment the guards. They notice when they have on new uniforms or new hairstyles (the women). And if they learn information about the families, they'll ask about them often. I've noticed myself beginning to buy the hog a few times. In my case, it's when I'm beginning to buy into a patient's report of ficticious symptoms. Or when they tell me they're meds aren't working (I later find they're not being compliant with meds). Sometimes they'll tell me they've never been able to trust any other therapist (man, they're good). Many times they'll start crying in the office and then apologize for it over and over. Friday, an offender stopped me when I was walking past the dorm cells. He told me how he had to talk to me right away. He just heard his young daughter was pregnant, considering abortion, and he felt stuck in prison and unable to help her. He just HAD to talk to me immediately, without going through "all that paperwork." He could tell I am a really good person. (I assured him he had no idea what kind of person I was). But these are just a few examples. Then I'll get this sinking feeling in my gut. And I get angry, both with myself for buying into it and with the offender who is working so hard to sell it. Then when I leave work, I find myself continuing to be diligent about people selling the hog to me. I guess for me, that's not such a bad thing. I have had tendencies to be naive. This is an important learning experience for me. I just have to find a way to balance without becoming jaded.

And I know that very bad things happen in prison. So much of it is hidden, of course, from the eyes of employees. But in counseling, you learn how dangerous it can be for offenders. And so many of them proclaim their innocence to me. Especially the ones convicted of sexual assault or sexual assault of a child. And there is a part of me that wants to believe them, if for no other reason than that it would make it easier to provide that unconditional regard. Someone said Friday that our population there is 65% child offenders. How do I maintain an attitude of wanting to help them with their depression or anger or anxiety or whatever when there is a big part of me that things child offenders should suffer in prison? Things I'm working on. That and trying not to buy any hogs.

Note to previous post

I've got to correct myself: Big Unity did not actually tell us to leave the church that year and go into the cold winter snow. What the usher said was, "would we please take the child into the cry room?" Not cold, no snow. The Big Unity is full of very nice people. And my friends from Little Unity told me they were actually entertained by the granddaughter's dancing this year. REAL nice people.

And I'm SO excited about the new year. Glad I stopped making all of those troublesome resolutions and just decided to be good to myself. Is anyone else out there as excited as I am?

Life in prison

The holidays have been so busy; I admire those who have been diligent with their blog postings.

I had a nice Christmas. Enjoying my grandchildren, enjoying their gifts, was a true joy. To paraphrase a quote, having grandchildren makes having raised children worthwhile. The granddaughter and I attended Christmas Eve services at my church, as we usually do. And as usual, she entertained herself by twirling, dancing, laying across the chairs, and a new one this year, crawling under the cookie table. You may be wondering how we are not asked to leave. I believe the answer lies in the fact that we are a VERY small church. Losing even one member would make a serious dent in the membership. On the other hand, Unity is a very tolerant religion. On yet another hand (if I had one), we were at the big Unity one year at the Christmas Eve service and we WERE asked to leave. In particular, they asked me to remove my granddaughter. Since I thought leaving her outside alone in the snow -- yes, that was the year it snowed -- would be less than wise, I chose to leave with her. Hence, we don't make the trek into "town" for church anymore. I certainly don't blame the big Unity, after all, they can afford to lose a few folks, especially twirling in the aisles folks.

Other than enjoying those frolicking grandchildren of mind, I've also been getting acclimated to working in prison. Here is quick list of positives and negatives I've found:

+ The food is free - The food is not that tasty
+ I can wear jeans - I only have one pair of jeans
+ There are a lot of men - 1500 of the men are convicted criminals
+ I get exercise - The floor is concrete and the stairs are narrow
+ I get to counsel folks - There is a great deal of malingering
+ I'm BUSY all day - I don't have time to go to the bathroom

I could go on but you get the idea. I also have lots of interesting stories to tell. Personal and professional ethics prevent me from sharing them with my readers though. If I can find a good way to fictionalize them without them losing the incredulous nature of their origin, you bet I'll write about them.

Perspectives

This last week at work, my first at my new job, has been overwhelming.

To put this in perspective, the prison to which I'm assigned, my unit, is one of three in a "cluster." Each cluster is supposed to have one master's level therapist and a bachelor's level caseworker. Very short-handed. My unit has no caseworker so those from other units come to help when they can. My supervisor, who is training me, was the therapist for my unit but is moving to one of the other units which has no master's level person. He's really been hopping around to all three, along with attending to meetings and other administrative duties. In case it has not yet been apparent to my readers, this has made my training fast and furious.

My unit is the largest among the three, with over 1500 offenders housed there. Of these, 175 are among the official caseload. That's right. I have 175 patients. But that's not all, any time someone gets transferred in, I have to do a chart review to see if they have any mental health needs and see them if they have a history. Offenders are almost constantly moving in and out. Also among my duties, is talking to each offender who is housed in what they call, "special housing." It is also called, "the hole" in prison movies. Looks a lot better than the movies. I don't think it's so bad right now but I hear it gets much worse in the summer when there is no air conditioning.

Friday evening, my boss left a bit early, and I attended to my patient charting. Suddenly, an officer appears along with a suicidal offender. Major mental illness. After I instruct the officer to remove the weapon the offender was going to use to commit this act, I then had to figure out how to transfer this patient to a psychiatric hospital. Fortunately, folks helped me. Turned out, I was the referring physician. Got promoted fast, didn't I?

Trying to leave, (it was way past quitting time) I then got a call that an offender in special housing was demanding to see someone in psyc immediately. So there I am, counseling a guy who is serving a life sentence. No chance for parole. At Christmas time. Talk about a bad case of the blues. No sunshine for months (how's that for Seasonal Affective Disorder?) and feeling hopeless.

I did the best I could and hope that it helped. I was warned that since the guy has nothing to lose, it was dangerous to stand too close to the cell. After I left for the day/night, I thought of other things that might have been helpful. Hope all has gone well this weekend and I'll have another chance to talk to him Monday.

I feel like I'm doing counseling on the front lines. You're right, tigger, things do come back to you. Feels like I never left counseling.

Now I've got to figure out how to refuel 'cuz it feels like I'm drained. Any suggestions?

The Sugarland Express

That was the title of a very old Goldie Hawn movie set in, you guessed it, Sugarland, TX.

And I feel like it describes my trek back and forth to Sugarland all week for orientation. Except there wasn't much express to it. An hour and a half each way. Plus sitting for almost 8 hours. I managed to rush through most of my online orientation so that I can not have to go back on Monday. Talked them into letting me finish on my unit.

I was a bit surprised at how much I remembered about working at UTMB. And pleased that I remembered as much clinical info as I did when completing a mock mental status exam for an electronic record. I'm ready to get to work!

Enrolled Baby Luke in daycare today. He starts Monday, his 4 month birthday.

As tough as things still are financially these days, I'm feeling very blessed.

Prison life

I learned today that we call anything outside prison, "the world." I learned a lot of other things today that I'm not yet ready to discuss. If ever. Tomorrow promises more of the same. Then two days of electronic data capture training. I won't even get to my unit until sometime next week. My "unit" refers to the prison I'm assigned to. As opposed to my world. Or something like that.

It's exciting to have a job and a paycheck coming. Also exciting to have benefits for the first time in a looonng time. And I'll get used to life behind bars. Tomorrow I learn what happens if I'm taken hostage. I think the entire lesson can probably be summed up as, "you're screwed."

They keep asking us if we're scared yet. If we're coming back. They don't know scared. Try wondering how you're gonna pay the rent and put food on the table for your family. That's scary. Maybe I should teach a class on how to pray your way to survival. Other class topics:

How to hide your car from the repo guys (Lessons in making a car disappear)

How to apply for and actually receive food stamps (Persistent Groveling)

Stretching your food shopping dollar (Use at least 2 coupons for the same item, shop late at night when the clerks are young, inexperienced, and hopefully a little wasted)

Avoiding Eviction (get your landlord into a lengthy conversation on the day she had planned to file evictions - she misses the deadline, repeat as necessary)

Entertaining the Kids (Attend every free event no matter how boring until they beg to just stay home and watch TV)

Yeah, and they think prison is scary...

New beginnings

So I'm starting the new job tomorrow and eager to get started. Not so eager to be leaving Baby Luke. I'm sure he'll do just fine without me during the day but I know I'm going to miss him. I was fortunate when my kids were very small to be able to stay home with them. And even though I practically raised my granddaughter, I only worked part-time and went to grad school until she was 2 years old. Sending her to daycare then was hard enough. Of course, she loved it. And we were both better for it. But here I am. Feeling what zillions of working mothers feel leaving their infants.

I guess it's a good thing that I'm starting a new job in a new place. I'll have a lot to occupy my mind.

Just imagine: for at least 8 hours a day, I won't be smelling like spit-up. I bet I'll miss it.

Christmas things

I channel Reverend Alicia here:
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Holiday...Holly day...Holy-day Blessings!

Did you ever wonder why the whole "Christmas thing" works? Why do people get all caught up in the whole thing, anyway? Why do they fall victim to over the top spending, etc. Why is it that there seems to be no limit to the spending? Is it an evil spell woven by materialists in the name of Christmas?

Well...I think it is about the deepest, Spirit-level, fundamental Divine Idea of Christmas that stirs within us, and we attempt...at our present level of awareness...to touch; to embody; to manifest this idea. We have attempted to create it in our lives. We have woven stories, and myths and legends on the loom of this basic principle.

The basic principle goes back beyond time and space to the formulative moment of the universe...the purity and principle of Oneness with God...with all that is good. It IS the principle of all-good; of hope, love, peace and joy.

As clumsily as we may try to manifest this Divine Idea...in spite of our errors in thought, word and action... there are a few things that do come through:

At this time of the year, hope is in the air...hope and anticipation for a season of peace, love and joy. At this time of the year people are more friendly, smile more, and exhibit more kindness than typical. At this time of the year, we believe that all things are possible. At this time of the year lights shine and twinkle and remind us of the brilliance that ultimately brightens even the darkest night...the illumination of understanding. Bells ring and the timeless vibration brings us to cathedrals of days past, the bell tolls...calling us to worship...to worth-ship...to acknowledging that perfect something in which we can find love, peace and serenity.

You see...there really is a Spirit of Christmas. It is the Spirit of Christmas that LIVED and MOVED and HAD ITS BEING in the "real" Santa Claus...Saint Nicolas, who lived the principles of unconditional love, acceptance and sharing. It is the Spirit of Christmas that will bless our holidays with meaning when we cut through the trappings and feel the Spirit.

Today...FEEL THE SPIRIT! RevAli

PS...I found a radio station that plays Christmas music all day long...100.5 FM here in Connecticut. If you don't live in the area...find your station and love it. CHALLENGE EXERCISE: Sing! Sing the songs as you drive to work, to the store, or wherever you go. Sing alone!
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Me again, I'm going to accept Alicia's challenge and sing Christmas songs all day. This might put me in a bit of a pickle considering I'm expecting guests today. Oh well.

being a psychotherapist again

So I've been thinking. Next week I go back to being a psychotherapist when I start my job at the prison. The thing is, just because you're not practicing, does that mean you ever really stop being a therapist? Is it like riding a bike? Can I just jump back in and expect those skills to still be there?

I imagine that being in prison during the holidays really sucks. I don't normally use that word but just can't think of anything that fits better right now. So if you're in prison and you need a therapist, how will it be to get someone who hasn't practiced in almost 4 years? Maybe refreshing. Maybe it will just suck even more.

Gratitude

After a really great discussion group at church on Sunday, I decided to start a gratitude journal. Again. Anyway, the idea is to write down 5 new things to be grateful for each day.

One of the first things on my list is my church. Notice how we say, "my" church? Why is it that we take ownership like that? Anyway, I am proud to be a member. A tiny little thing, we don't even have our own building, we just rent space from a community center. But I think it just makes us realize even more that our "church" is just us. Whoever we happen to be that Sunday.

And I'm grateful for friends. I miss some friends I haven't connected with in a while. I can only hope that improves soon. I believe, though, that true friendships can weather minor separations. And I am grateful for the friends I have through my women's group. Come on, is there any more solidarity than having a bunch of women friends who share the same spiritual beliefs you do? They're the best.

So, back to the gratitudes. I've learned there's an even bigger way to do this. We can start by blessing all situations in our life, then expressing gratitude, then love. That's really easy for the situations that appear to be good, but I can see where I'll really grow spiritually when I learn to bless the situations that appear to, well, not be so good.

Advent thoughts

Sometimes not having a lot of money to do early shopping with can be a real blessing. The Friday after Thanksgiving (and the following weekend) have traditionally been busy shopping days for me. I do enjoy it. Getting up before dawn. An excuse to stop by for fresh donuts and hot coffee. Dressing in festive clothes. Lining up outside favorite stores with other earlybirds. The rush of excitement when the doors open and you see all of the holiday displays and begin your search for the best gifts. The joy of finding what you want at an incredible price! One year, I was almost frantically searching for a toy for my granddaughter (it was half price!) and when I actually found it (okay, I may have wrestled it from another shopper), I shouted out to my friend and fam that I had it! They couldn't quite hear me, so other shoppers between them and me helped out by passing the word. So everyone in the store heard how happy I was! I even enjoy standing in the long lines. It gives me a chance to see other shoppers, hear their success stories, and see what gifts they've chosen. Yes, I do love holiday shopping.

But I have a habit of seeing the silver lining in almost everything. It serves me well. This year has been lean financially. But oh so rich in other ways. Self-growth, deepening spirituality, closeness with my women's group members, watching my grandchildren grow, and the special gift of Baby Luke.

So I choose to look at the holidays in the same light. Yes, I enjoy shopping -- and buying bright shiny things! But when I think of my favorite holiday memories, I seem to think of other things. I remember....

Christmas with my Daddy
How special the Christmas tree looks at night
My daughters' first Christmases
Sewing holiday clothes for them
Taking the girls to church for weeks just to practice songs for Christmas eve
The Advent services at church
Christmas Eve candlelight services
Our home Advent wreath and candle lighting
Playing Christmas music at home, in the car, and hearing it everywhere
Decorating my home for the holidays
Cooking and baking special holiday treats
Wrapping and decorating gifts
Hearing the Christmas Story

I can honestly say that I have tried to keep Christmas every year of my life. And as a grandmother, I have had many Christmases. I have instilled special memories in my children and now my grandchildren. That's a good thing to be remembered for, isn't it?

This year, my older grandchildren are ready (I think) to understand the Christmas story. I'm breaking out the Advent wreath and devotions. We begin tonight with the first Sunday in Advent. We'll do something, now matter how small, to celebrate Christmas every day.

I have subscribed to a friend's holiday email messages. She was our minister at Unity before she moved to New England to care for her aging mother. She's writing special emails all season long to help all of us celebrate Christmas. I'll share some of them after I ask her for permission.

I'd love to hear other ideas for keeping Christmas.

Believe it or not...

the folks at the prison offered me the job! I got the call two days ago and have been going through a rapid background check in order to meet the first of two possible start dates. If everything gets completed in time, I'll be starting on Monday. If not, two more weeks. Either way, I feel blessed.

I'll be therapist for one of the state prison units. I've worked with inmates before and at least I know a little of what to expect. Contrary to what some people believe, folks incarcerated are mostly just folks. Okay, many have antisocial personality disorder but I know a few people on the outside who might also fit that diagnosis. This way, at least you're not going to meet them in a social setting. Or in a dark alley.

As a surprise to me, I found that even people who have committed what I consider to be atrocious crimes can also have the same thread of humanity in them that we all share. So I expect to find many more similarities than differences.

When you get right down to it, therapy is just helping the patient -- any patient -- live a healthier, better adjusted life. In this case, that life will be behind a prison wall.

The doctor who hired me talked about me getting a license. I expected to get work on my hours and get an LPC licence. She mentioned that an LPA might be quicker. Not that she cares so much. She just says I can get more pay with a license, either one. I do know that I have to get a supervisor for my hours. Time to start shopping.

I'm trying to push through the daycare search and placement. I've found a daycare that offers special needs care for Baby Luke. And I checked the state site for daycare inspections and found they have a history of very few violations -- and no serious ones at that.

Again, I feel blessed. It's great to know that I'll soon have a job and can earn money for my little family.

Interview: Part Two

Let me preface this by saying I am sick. The feverish, achy, head and chest full of things you'd rather never know about, kind of sick. I said that partly to explain my negative view of yesterday and mostly just to get sympathy. I'll take it wherever I can get it.

If the first interview was funny bad, the second one was just bad.

To begin, do my readers realize that with small children, just getting to an interview is monumental? There's babysitting to arrange. And meals to prep. And sleep schedules to arrange. Diaper bags to pack. Instructions to give. And add an extra 30 to 45 minutes for getting to and giving instructions to the babysitter. So I was already tired when I started.

Anyone who knows me knows I'm not so good with directions. I need a map. I thought I had circumvented my direction impairment with getting directions verbally, from Yahoo, and from Google. After all, someone has to have it right, don't they? Nope, they do not.

So on the way to Rosharon. Who knew there was even such a place? None of my directions mentioned that I would have to turn off of FM 1462 to get to the prison. After driving 15 miles too far, I stopped for directions. So add an extra 30 minutes drive time. I'm almost there eventually and notice the electrical stuff on my car going haywire. Okay, more haywire than usual. My spedometer works about half the time. The gas gauge about 25% of the time but I compensate by remembering when and how much gas I've put in. The temperature gauge hasn't worked in over a year so it can really surprise a passenger to know that my engine temperature is either 0 degrees or way past the highest mark. This time, however, when I finally pull into the parking lot, my driver's window will not raise.

Now at this point, 1:45 p.m., I'm thinking that I'm 45 minutes late. Even though I left at 11:30 to give myself adequate time, I've run into lots of problems. So I stopped in Alvin to call about being late. Having no cell phone (not by choice), I have to stop and find a pay phone that works. Then call all three of the numbers that this guy gave me. I think the cell number is wrong because I get a message left by someone surly. At least I hope it's wrong. The other numbers keep ringing back and forth between different departments. Finally I leave messages saying I'm late but on the way. This took a while 'cuz I had to search for quarters during all of these calls. Which probably contributed about 15 more minutes to my late time.

So back to pulling up at 1:45. I can't get the window up which I think is probably not a good thing at a prison so I park very near the guard tower. I walk up and this guy is out there waiting for me. I start out by apologizing for being late. To which he looks puzzled and says that I'm not late, I'm early. Then I remember that the interview was at 2 not 1. So I stop talking about being late, thinking he'll not notice my mistake.

We take the tour through the prison and I notice with relief that the building has no sloped walkways. The slopes at the Harris County jail contributed to my severe chronic knee pain. I'm feeling better now and he says he has a cold and I mention that I do, too, so he won't feel bad about the germs. And I'm thinking, good for me, maybe he'll get confused about that late comment and think it was just sinus pressure or something (on either part).

As we pass one of the nurses in the medical department, she mentions, oh, I forgot to tell you that your interviewee called and said she's running late. So much for my hopes on that.

We sit down in his office for about 2 minutes then a guard runs in, asking if I am driving a red Chevy. Yep. Well, it is apparently the end of the frickin' world that the window is down. I try explaining the electrical problem and she doesn't care. Got to fix it right now. To which the guy interviewing me says, well, we'll just finish the interview on the way out. Finish it? We've barely started. As we're walking he expresses surprise that they even noticed it. Well, I told him, I did park right in front. As we're walking, every guard we pass mentions the car with the window down like it's the worst thing they've ever heard of. "Who leaves a windown down in a PRISON?!!!" I figure out it's worse than I would have thought since they have trustees bunked in a camp house of sorts without any gates or security outside the fence. So any one of them could have jumped in my car and left. Yep, I did that. I get to my car and lo and behold, this time, the electrical thing works and the window raises. Does this make me look even worse? It doesn't matter, the interview is over. He walks away saying he'll get back to me. Right.

Think it's over? nope. I'm driving out of the prison and right before I get to the main road, my car runs out of gas. I realize that my daughter has been driving my car and I really have no idea how much I had to start with. So not only am I thinking that I'm stranded but also thinking that I'm endangering freakin' security again by having a stranded vehicle there.

Now here's the good part. Not one minute after I turned on my flashers, a woman in scrubs stops her car and offers to help me. I show her my driver's license so she'll know I'm not an escaping prisoner. She knows. They have no female prisoners housed at any of those units. We drive to a gas station, they actually have a loaner gas can, and we drive back adding gas to my tank. It starts. We both have gas all over our hands but she has wipes. So nice. She even says good luck on the interview. What a nice woman. I tell her she's an angel and I honestly believe it.

I get to the babysitter ( a mother of 3 and a friend of Rachel) and find that she has let her children "play" with the baby. All of the things I so carefully packed in the diaper bag are scattered throughout her apartment. She brags that she gave the baby 8 ounces of sugar water. I don't scream here nor do I hit her. No, I didn't tell her beforehand that the only thing the baby eats is formula, but who would think I needed to? He's only 3 months old for god's sake! To top it off, she's dressed him in some awful clothes her 9 year old son wore when he was a baby. they smell like they haven't been washed in that time. To further the sugar theme, I find a BOWL of marshmallows and ask her about them. Yes, she's given them to my other grandson that afternoon. And she wonders why he's jumping like a madman around the room.

The sugar water she gave the baby evidently raised his blood sugar dramatically and then lowered it. Way low. I couldn't wake him until 2 this morning. I was feeding him formula with a dropper all evening. He's fine now but I can't keep from kicking myself for leaving him with her. I want to say all kinds of nasty things to her but don't see that it will do any good. Luke will never stay with her again. Rachel later says that the marshmallows are not a surprise to her; she has seen these parents give their children candy bars for an evening snack. Has anybody heard of fruit, people?

So if I do get offered this job at the jail, will that mean they're really desperate?

On another thought, my women's group had a really powerful meeting last Wednesday night. Discussing a good book by Chopra. I'll save that for another time.

A second interview!

I got a call early this morning about a second interview at the prison. He wants to see me tomorrow so I'm taking that as a good sign. Of course trying to get childcare on short notice is something else. But I'm not complaining. Well, I am complaining but who wants to sound like they are?

So I was talking to this nice young man (I hope he's nice). Had to leave the room cuz the baby was screaming bloody murder that I put him down. He doesn't quite get the concept of alone time. I thought I was pretty clever going outside on the patio. Nope. Dog and other grandson follow me. Dog starts barking. Push him back inside. Noisy grandson not so easy to push. Then ran to pantry and closed door. Grandson can't turn door knobs. But he sure can bang on the door and yell. "What are you doing in there, Nana?!!!!" So I pretend nothing is happening over here. Maybe he'll think we have a bad phone connection.

Another thought, why do they have a position to fill so quickly? I forgot to ask what happened to the previous counselor. Hope she just left (and not in a body bag). It's a medium security prison. What exactly will that mean for my own personal safety? Oh well, I survived working in one of the busiest county jails in the nation. Sort of.

Happened to check out my horoscope for yesterday. A day late and a dollar short, as my aunt would have said:

"The stars give you the ability to think, talk and act at the speed of light. However, you might want to make a conscious effort to slow down so you can gauge other people's reactions as you strut your stuff. "

The first part not so true. As for slowing down to check other reactions, I WAS slow. Just not thinking quickly. Funny, funny, stars.

I found avatars on tigger's bog!