Searching

There are plenty of things to obsess about. Like how we are going to manage daycare next year, who I'm going to find to mentor my resident research project, and that Survivor starts this next week.

One of the things that I don't obsess about at all are my blog numbers. The number of followers (although all are welcome and enjoyed), the number of visitors, the number of hits.

But I'll be honest, I do love the key words on my Goggle Analytics.

It's always interesting (and occasionally confusing) to see how people come across my neck of the woods, so to speak. For example...

"Boys don't appreciate swimming"
Well, if you just throw them in the deep end, it's true. They don't. They also don't really appreciate a kiddy pool in the backyard full of ice cold water from the hose. (Although, I assure you, none of those occurrences have ever been documented here.) What's with kids these days?

"Why I hate Wuthering Heights"
I don't know why you do. And I don't think you found anything here to add to your dislike. Although my mom hates it too. You should talk.

"Just walk it out"
It's true, this would probably work. It worked as a child. At least that's what we would tell each other when we fell off the roof or out of the tree that we had explicitly been told to stay away from by our parents. I wonder why I don't use this more often.

"Closet optimist"
If you're truly looking for a closet optimist, you'll have to look else where. I am a self-proclaimed, rose-colored glasses, glass-half-full type of girl. There is no closet here. Only there is, it's just filled with Transformers and 50 piece puzzles.

"He took up the slack"
Boy, does he ever. Apparently, Hubster does such a great job of doing this, even Google is aware of the fact.

"Mature, loves boys"
Well, I attempt to be mature. And I do love my boys. And if you mean this in any other way, you are free to leave. Actually, I insist.

"Medical school is hard, how to survive"
Ooh, I don't think I can help you here. And I'm sure that reading my stories don't help. The only thing I can tell you is that it is hard. And that almost everyone comes through the other side. You survive the same way the rest of us do. One day at a time, one moment with loved ones at a time, one latte at a time.

"Optimists make poor decisions"
Hey! I resent that. We make perfectly good decisions. Although I did think the eggplant would go over well, so maybe you have a point.

"Post call haze"
Ah, yes. The "30 hours straight, paged non stop, can't feel my feet, can't remember where my car is, thank goodness no one died" post call haze. I'm not sure if you're looking for a definition or a solution. No amount of reading will provide satisfactory definitions. And there is only one solution. Sleep. Glorious sleep.

"My female ego"
I'll be the first to admit, I've got one. I was pretty sure that I didn't. But I get off easy and call it maternal instinct.

"Mom making me do worse at school"
Never! After all, the only reason I follow you around the house asking questions about how your day was, who you played with, what you learned, where is your homework, when is this due, and why did you spell it that way...that was all love.

"Self-help for optimists"
Like I said before, I'm good.

"Who is The Katherine Wheel"
That is the question, isn't it? I've got the demographics pretty much nailed: 20-something, wife, mom of boys, anesthesia resident, newly Midwesterner. But as to who Katherine really is? That's something that always in transition. I was a painter, now a DIY home owner. I was a poet, now I'm a lullaby singer. I was a student, now I'm a life-learner. I was a uptight mountain girl, now I'm a laid-back flat-lander. Who is Katherine? Now that's the real search.