Me...A professional?

I just returned from a professional conference...not a big national one, but a great statewide (Colorado)effort to bridge the gap between a variety of different service providers (teachers, mental health counselors, the juvenile justice system, case workers, and academics) who work with children and adolescents. I had the unique opportunity to provide a 90 minute workshop to interested individuals in managing vicarious trauma--best defined (at least in my eyes) as the "cost of caring".

I was excited to have my proposal accepted...mostly because it gave me a reason to travel to Fort Collins, Colorado, but also because it allowed me the opportunity to engage in presenting a workshop on something I have come to be increasingly passionate about.

What I didn't really consider, until after the conference, was how this was yet another step I have take that leads me further down the road of becoming a "professional".

I was struck with so many feelings of inadequacy AFTER the presentation. "What gave me the right to give this talk?" "What did I really know?" "Could I really be effecting change on some grander level by sharing these ideas and interventions?" "Could this possibly lead to the consulting type of work I so desperately want to engage in post-degree?" "Could I engage in it pre-degree...or am I really already at THAT point? Am I already a professional to some degree?"

That idea is scary to me. The idea that I may actually already be able to bring something to the table. With this idea comes some level of responsibility for engaging in professional activities, for sharing and disseminating useful knowledge.

Immediately after having the above thoughts, I then laugh at and question myself. Who else feels this level of responsibility?

As you grow in whatever vocational field you chose, as you become a professional or an expert, what level of responsibility do you feel? Am I an overachiever--feeling a responsibility and need to act that may not necessarily be expected? Am I setting myself up for failure, or worse, putting myself in a position where I may be imparting knowledge in a non-helpful manner to others?

Have you felt this pull? This need to do something meaningful with your new found 'title' of "professional" or "expert"? If so, how did you reconcile the feeling? What did you do to meet your feeling of responsibility?

Shout out to Single Parents

This weekend was rough--and not in the emotionally wrenching, "we were driving home from my brother's funeral last Easter" way I had expected.

It was physically and mentally exhausting.  It all started Saturday afternoon when "Nannie" threw up in the car on the way to Target (for last minute Easter goodie shopping).  Then again at home, and again before bed.  This was followed by "LiLi" throwing up shortly after falling asleep.

After this point I laid out a number of towels on the playroom floor (MUCH easier to clean than carpet) and began to just switch out towels after each episode of throwing up--which seemed to be happening every 10-15 minutes.  Then crying was heard from upstairs and "Addie" had also thrown up--she was brought downstairs and "Frozen" was played multiple times.  The girls would fall asleep, wake up feeling crappy, cry and whine, puke, get cleaned up, be given a new towel, have their heads rubbed and get some snuggling then fall asleep again...giving me time to climb back into the pull out sofa bed and fall asleep.  For about three minutes before going through the process with one of the other girls.

I may have been able to handle that.  Hell, I may have asked for a gold star or a cookie--you know, mom of the year and all that.  But, then I started puking.  Yep.  And those of you who know me know how that lays me out.  Done.  Game over.  Mommy is no longer in the building--at least not in any helpful manner.

In swoops reluctant husband and very helpful mother in law--on Easter.  Husband very lovingly offered water and ginger ale, kindly suggested I sit outside and get fresh air, and allowed for many, many welcome hours of time in bed WITHOUT children.  Mother-in-law took children off of husbands hands so he wouldn't lose it attempting to protect my fragile sanity at that point.

Then I began to feel less puke-y and more migraine headache bursting my head-y, just in time for "Sax" to begin screaming--like back to I'm a cranky old man newborn screaming.  And I walked for two hours with him--because rocking or sitting and bouncing would not calm him, nor would his swing or countless songs--just walking and slight bouncing.  This was not good enough to put him to sleep; just good enough to keep him relatively quiet.

As I was walking with him, well into an hour and a half at that point, and, yes, I'll admit it, I was crying a little bit.  At this point I was struck--profoundly struck--by my awe and undying respect of single parents.  I.  Don't.   Know.   How.   You.    Do.   It!   But, it is amazing.  I could barely keep it together and I had the help of my husband AND his mother.  I cannot--CANNOT--imagine going it alone over that 48 hour period of time.  God/Allah/Nature/All Individual's on this Planet BLESS you all!

The perseverance, spirit, and grit it must take are truly inspiring and at a level to which I doubt I will ever obtain.  Only in the face of true suffering can one grow to that extent.  Kudos to you--each of you.