That's the business

Reading about my exciting family on their exotic blogs has made me feel kind of insignificant or bored with my tiny life in Charlotte. But Thursday means clinical meeting for Beasty Hall* at Not Yo Mama's Maternity Home,* and I was reminded that to some, it would seem pretty bizarre to work with fist-fighting pregnant women. We don't sell peanuts in whiskey bottles (please, don't let me find any whiskey bottles), but we have plenty of baby bottles, and definitely more than enough drama to supply a small theatre company.

I've been the residential coordinator on the adult hall at NYMMH* since mid-November. Since then, on my shift, approximately

• two clients have been in a fist fight (twice).
• fifteen clients have delivered their babies.
• five clients have had spoiled milk poured all over their rooms.
• three clients have been emergency transported to the ER. (The middle of the night! The extremely pregnant women! The adrenaline! The van keys! Where are the van keys?!)
• two clients have stopped speaking to me. I am the Meanest Staff Ever.
• three staff members have been chosen to go across the country for a training in a healthy relationship curriculum. One's me! I am the Luckiest Staff Ever.
• one meal served in the cafeteria has been edible

I'm thankful that my job challenges me to learn to love the difficult ones.

*Some names have been changed to protect the innocent.