Some Times You Just Have To Wear Pants On Your Head

Years ago now, when I was still working as a nurse, I had to try and explain to my very young children why I had to leave very early on Christmas morning to go to work.
I had, because of job changes, or multiple jobs worked five Christmases in a row. My children being very little, and their father being gone, were very unhappy that their remaining parent had to leave them on such a big day. The guilt was nearly unbearable, but I knew I had to do what I had to do. Taking care of them, of us, was my number one priority, so Christmas morning I got dressed to go to work.
This one Christmas I asked the kids if they wanted to sleep in and open gifts later, after I got home since I had to be at work at 6 A.M. Adamantly they shook their heads in a collective "NO!" "OK, but that means we all have to get up at 5 o'clock in the morning if we are going to do this," I warned my little ones. Again, in unison, they all nodded.
My parents had come up to be with the children for a few hours while I worked. I had very little time, so they drove the hour, spent the night and got up at the crack of dawn with us to celebrate before the sun rose. I worked in nursing homes and Christmas was not the happiest time for my patients, some being unaware that Christmas was even upon us. The staff was anxious to get home to their own families, so it was an atmosphere of what can only be described as bitter sweet. I, wanting not be miserable, would dress just short of a Santa suit to brighten things up.
Christmas morning came and my sleepy children looked under the tree for their gifts as I grabbed a quick cup of coffee. They opened their gifts with heavy eyes and yawning lips. Mom and Dad tried to cheer them up about me leaving for work, but the kids still looked as though I were abandoning them. Their sad little faces, their questions as to why I had to go was tugging so hard at my heart. I had told them every year why I had to work. I had explained about the older people, some with no family who needed our help. My kids being raised by a nurse had heard all the reasons, they knew every explanation of why their mommy had to work on holidays, but this one Christmas they looked especially sad.
I had tried everything I could think of to make them laugh or even smile before I left. I danced around, put bows on my face to no response. I looked at my mom who shrugged.
Michael and I were dating and he had gotten me a fancy new pair of ski goggles and some thermal underwear. Desperate to see my kids happy, or at least less unhappy, I donned the goggles and put the pants on my head. I danced around and called myself "Super Mom!" I chased them around the living room and tickled them as the new super hero who could leap tall wheelchairs in a single bound. My kids laughing made fun of me and someone took my picture. I am still trying to find that culprit.
Moments later it was time for me to go. I kissed my beautiful children, thanked my parents and headed off to work. I did remember to take off the goggles and the pants from my head before I left. "I will be home before you know it," I promised. Waving I got in my snow covered car and drove through the darkness to my job.
My children can tell lots of stories of what it is like to have a mom for nurse. They can recall all the holidays I missed, the nights I came home late and the mornings I had to leave unexpectedly due to folks calling off. As children, even when they were disappointed that I had to leave, they knew there were others who were if not for the staff would be completely alone. They were understanding and patient. They remain that way today. They acknowledge all those people who have to go to work on Christmas leaving their warm beds, their loving families to do the right thing.
For every nurse, doctor, and medical personnel, who had to get up and go to work to take care of those who so desperately need it, I and my family thank you and wish a very Merry and Peaceful Christmas.