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Friday, July 18, 2014

but first, coffee.

Perhaps, the thing I miss the most about living in a city with a closely knit network of friends is the amount of hours we would spend cozied up in coffee houses, sipping hazelnut lattes and contemplating the finer things in life. Spending countless hours talking over a carafe of Seattle's finest was always incredibly therapeutic for this wandering heart of mine and recently I've been missing my net like crazy.  There was a wicked thunderstorm today that was the perfect ambience for a three hour nap + now it's late and I can't sleep so I thought having a virtual coffee talk might quiet my mind. May I invite you in for an e-cup?  

When you arrive at my red door, I apologize for the elephant of a space where a couch should rightfully be in my living room {"err, commitment issues..."}, defer your perplexed gaze to the coffee station I created in my kitchen + giddily ask you to pick out a mug. "I've been collecting them, you know? Wherever my travels take me, I always find a swirly cup to bring back as a memento + each morning, my mind gradually wakes up by traveling back to one of those special places. It's {almost} a better stimulant than caffeine..." You chose the heart  + antlers mug {ahhh, Tofino! Excellent choice!} + I invite you to sit down in my happy place//breakfast nook, where you laugh at the post-its that currently serve as place holders on my half-finished gallery wall... "What's a faux taxidermy unicorn?!" you'd laugh.

The sun is shining through the windows, sunbeams dancing on the flower petals in the mason jar in the middle of the table. We'd talk about how balmy the weather in Houston is + how sometimes I feel like I relocated to the surface of the sun, what with its suffocating heat and 2,000% humidity. I'm sure I would remind you how perfect the summer months are in Seattle + how awesome the weather in SoCal is all the time...

"Why don't you just go back?" you'd ask. I'd sigh, wishing it were that simple. I am trying to give Texas a fair chance; I made a schematic weighing all the pros and cons of all the places I could work last summer and thought very carefully before deciding on Childrens Hospital. I was so cautious in not making any of the rash decisions I made last time I relocated somewhere permanently + while there is no denying that I am struggling immensely, I'm certain there was a reason I came... even it's just to serve as a reputable stepping stone {although I'm not sure how, we were just voted the #2 NICU in the country} on the path to my next job. I've given myself a year and on December 1st, I will re-evaluate... but for now, I am just trying my hardest to live in the moment, take note of the fragmented beauty each new day holds + keep them tucked safely in my pocket for the harder days...

... eee, the harder days. There have been so many of them recently. Babies dying in the most insufferable situations. Mothers collapsing at my feet, screaming out that it was too soon; they didn't get to say good-bye. I have encountered some of the rarest cases in my first few months as a nurse practitioner and their outcomes have quite literally knotted my heart strings. 

I know that my ability to give all of my heart to my job and not emotionally exhaust myself comes with having a happy balance of life outside of work and I've been putting forth a more conscious effort on the latter... walking to museums in the afternoons, exploring new shops + restaurants in my neighborhood. Life as a Texan is getting a little easier but I'd hesitate to tell you that in actuality, I spend the majority of my free time dreaming up everything that I could be rather than an NNP. I could start a newborn consulting business. I could write a book.  I could be a party planner. I could own a cupcakery/paperie. I could open a girlie gym + teach fitness classes. I could open a children's boutique and name it Elemeno P. I could relocate to a foreign country + get lost in the notion of doing as the Romans do...

Setting out a plate of macaroons, I would force you to ooh + ahh over all 7,000 photographs of Reese + Preston on my phone... and as my face would light up talking about them, I would gush about just how much joy they bring to my life.  Bird is a hilarious mix of sass + sweet + Presty is just so cuddly + cute; a very old soul that boy. I would tell you that being an auntie has been my absolute favorite adventure in the entire world... but when I really think about it, perhaps, parenting isn't right for me.

"What?! The Jocelyn I've always known loves babies most in this world." Well, that still holds true but as life goes on + paradigms shift, everything I believed I wanted six years ago {before I ventured out in to the real world}, I'm not so certain of anymore. There's a lot more to having babies than just creating them + while I used to think the one thing I was born to do was be a mum, I'm not so certain I am cut out to grow humans + quite frankly, I'm scared to death I'll fuck them up...

On that note, I'd tell you I have constant cravings for incredibly domesticated desires. I crave the ability to make home cooked meals, sew throw pillows + have picked out a special spot to grow an herb garden in my backyard. I would gush about that fabulous memoir I read cover-to-cover one afternoon how in turn, I have re-evaluated who I was as a child to its entirety. I would tell about this new shampoo I'm obsessed with and how I have a secret crush on my hair stylist. I would tell you every detail of my summer bucket list and how tomorrow night, we're drinking amongst the dinosaurs at the natural science museum. 

You would ask if I was dating anyone. "Nope." I'd simply state. Haven't dated anyone of significance in nearly four years + I really never had any interest to until just recently when I sometimes catch myself daydreaming about sharing silly moments with someone... like breakfast in bed or dancing in the kitchen. Does it scare you that you'll never find him? A little, but it scares me more that I have grown so independent over the last couple of years that I a huge part of me is indifferent to the thought of ever finding him. Feeling myself blush, I'd tell you that when I woke up this morning I giggled when I realized that today's date felt significant because it was the first time someone ever told me they loved me... 10 years ago. Oh, what I would give to go back to seventeen-year-old me, tearful in a laundry basket, shaking at the realization that I loved him, too... and borrow some of her strength in loving so unconditionally, from the deepest depths of her heart. She had no fear in loving so wildly, so recklessly.
... but enough about me, tell me about you. Would you care for a second cup?