So, I was reading Cathy Z’s blog. She’s freaking out about her new book, which I am sure deserves freaking out about…but then I was like, “ARE YOU KIDDING ME, you’re freaking out about THAT in your job?” And sometimes my job provides some serious perspective. We had a baby last week, literally dying. As my co-worker and I were rushing around the bed flipping the mom, applying oxygen, trying to undo cords so we could run to the c-seciton the baby’s heart rate was as low as I’ve heard it for as long as I’d heard it. THIS, my friends, is a time to freak out? But, were we? I think I was a little in my heart. I felt badly for the mom, but I didn’t have the time to freak. It’s my job to get that baby safely there, and I want to know I did everything humanly possible to make it a safe trip. Thankfully, by the time we were in the OR the heart rate was back up, and the baby came-out with a nice knot in his/her cord. Reminds me not to freak out quite so much when I see the ENTIRE box of crayons spilled (and yes, I am high-strung, why do you ask?), or Spencer doesn’t like to use consonants. There are big things in life, and then there’s the rest. And how much of it truly deserves a freak-out?