The Katherine Wheel

Flight of Ideas

2012-02-07T19:51:00.000-08:00

I suddenly find myself unable to keep up with everything. All the balls that I was juggling in the air seem much heavier than they ever did. Things are getting dropped frequently here.

I'm blaming everything on winter. It's dark when I go to work. It's dark when I get home. It's always dark. And cold.

Everyone keeps talking about how mild this winter is. Maybe the weather is. But emotionally, this winter has been anything but mild. The last several months have wrecked havoc on my emotional well being.

I wish I was a bear and could hibernate all the gray, icy days away.

That line sounds like it could be from a children's book.

That's all I read any more, children's books. I can't talk about New York best sellers or the hottest read, but if you want to talk to me about Mo Willems or Oliver Jeffers, I'm all in.

I'm going to start re-reading The Hunger Games trilogy. I am beyond excited for the movie.

Lately, it seems like everyone is watching Once Upon a Time. I really want to watch it, but I just haven't found the time. The few days I thought I had time, we had no internet. I can't do anything without the internet. All my communication, my recipes, the boys' school stuff - it's all on the internet.

The internet is back up. The non-starting car is repaired. The pipe down the street that burst and left us without water is fixed.

Sometimes it feels like everything is back up and running except me.

Don't you hate it when people mention that they are dealing with significant personal issues, and then don't tell you what it is? Well, that's what's going on here. I've been thrown some major curve balls and am trying to figure out how to deal with them. As soon as I figure that out, I'll share it.

The boys are getting their Valentine's ready to share at school. Based on what's on Pinterest these days, I'm sure the boys are going to bring home a variety of darling homemade cards. My boys are handing out store bought Valentines. I refuse to feel guilty. Okay, that's not true. I refuse to let my guilt to me into unreasonable activity.

I need to do some activity.

I need it to be warm.

I wish I was a bear.

The Poet Inside

2012-01-28T11:13:00.000-08:00

I used to write poetry.

I was the stereotypical teenager, filled to overflowing with angst and heartbreak and big dreams. I sat cross-legged on the porch swing, scribbling page after page on emotion heavy lines. I found neglected corners on the college campus, either propped against a regal column or letting my legs hang over a high concrete wall, pouring my heart onto paper. I would wander outdoors, often feeling like Anne Shirley reading Lady of Shalott in the woods.

There is a box in my basement filled with notebooks of my poetry.

To be honest, most of it is not very good. It is the typical writing of a young girl who often thought she felt more than she really did.

I have not written poetry in a very long time. Between all the daily events I call my real life and the hectic pull of everything, the lyrical view I held of the world gave way to a more cynical, logical, stressed newsprint outlook.

But there are still moments.

Evenings where the river is still and flat, belying the strong current underneath, perfectly reflecting the boat house, the bridge, and the black silhouette of naked trees. Afternoons at the park, with the wind in the pine boughs, the chains of the swings clinking. Mornings early enough that the trees are still heavy with birds, the sound of the car rousing them to form soft, flittering clouds around leafless branches. Moments of a head tucked under my arm, and soft blue eyes and the hint of dimple. Quiet at the bedside of a patient.

Then I think the poetry is still there. And it is just as beautiful and alive and heartbreaking as it was when I was a teenager. I want to write it all down, capture the moment, keep it alive with ink.

Then the noise and chaos and schedules and menus and deadlines swell up again and push those thoughts back into hiding. Life is too busy, too real to waste writing silly words in floral covered notebooks.

But then, maybe it's just busy enough to need to.

Just A Virus

2012-01-19T13:24:00.000-08:00

We are now day five of Monkey being sick.

Poor thing. He's been running fevers, hardly eating anything except popcicles, and today developed a deep hacking cough. It's been exhausting. For all of us. This is the first time he has been sick this school year, but he has made up for months of perfect health with a vengeance.

I hadn't taken him to the pediatrician, because after 7 years of medical training, I feel that I'm just as good at saying "It's just a virus" as the next person. But when his fever spiked again to 103 today, instead of starting to trend down as I had hoped, I made an appointment at the acute care clinic.

Only my car wouldn't start. Out of the blue, in the car we have never had any trouble with. I've rescheduled and he will be seen first thing in the morning.

Until then, there will be another long day and night of me worrying over him. Every diagnostic possibility lurks in the back of my mind. This is what being a doctor does to you. I keep thinking Is it ear infections? Is it a UTI? Is this turning into pneumonia? His fevers are getting high and he says his leg hurts. Does he have a septic joint or osteomyelitis? Oh my gosh, what if this is the start of symptoms and my baby has leukemia?!

Obviously, it is easy for me to overreact and build myself up into a differential diagnosis frenzy.

Right now, he is sleeping in my bed, tucked under the covers, curtains drawn, and he is resting. There will be encouraging fluids when he is awake and Tylenol if he gets too uncomfortable. He'll be just fine.

I'm sure this is just a virus.

Accumulation

2012-01-13T06:19:00.001-08:00

Every since October, the boys have been begging for snow. How they think I am supposed to provide this, I've never been quite sure, but it has never stopped them from asking. "I want it to snow." "Can we please have snow for a snowball fight?" "I need it to snow so we can go sledding/skiing/make snow angels." These requests have been non-stop for months. I kept reassuring them that it would indeed snow, and that they should just enjoy the good weather while it was around.

Thanksgiving came, and there was no snow.

I continued to reassure them that there would be snow. By Christmas, surely there would be snow.

Christmas came, and there was no snow.

I seriously started to lose my credibility. And the boys continued to ask for snow.

New Years came, and there was no snow.

Not only was there no snow, but it was sunny, with temperatures in the 40s and occasionally even in the 50s. The weather was still conducive to walks around the block and bike riding in the school parking lot.

There was no snow. Until yesterday.

Now there are heaps and drifts and covered sidewalks and frost covered windows.

There is plenty of snow for everyone, including the boys. They were so excited that the nanny said the moment they got home from school, they put on all their snow gear and tromped out into the backyard to make the most of accumulation...only to come back in two minutes later. Because not only is it finally snowy, it's also finally cold. Very, very cold.

So we finally have our snow. It finally feels like Christmas. And the boys finally have stopped asking for snow.

Now, we just need the temperatures to rise a little so we can make the most of this. After all, the boys can hear snowmen and snow angels and sledding hills just begging them to come out.

Currently - January

2012-01-12T08:00:00.000-08:00

Current Book
Cutting For Stone by Abraham Verghese. This is the first non-young adult book I have read in a long time. It's good, but it makes me tired.

Current Shame-Inducing Guilty Pleasure
80's music. I have been listening to 80s cardio on Pandora while I do dishes, and it makes my so happy!

Current Drink
Water, water, water.

Current Songs
"You're the Best" by Joe Esposito (From Karate Kid)
"I Can't Hold Back" by Survivor

Current Wish-List
New boots

Current Needs
To finish my run of night shifts and get back on a normal schedule.

Current Triumph
Starting to exercise again. It's been a very, very long time.

Current Favorite Film
Planet Earth. We have been watching these again with the boys. Even though I have seen them multiple times, I'm impressed every time.

Current TV Show
Top Chef

I'm also thinking about starting to watch Once Upon A Time. Is anyone else watching this? Is it any good?

Current Celebrity Crush

Matthew Lewis, better known as Neville Longbottom. Seriously, I can't get enough of how great he looks all grown up. If you would have told me that Neville would have grown up to be the best looking person in the Harry Potter movies, I would have laughed. Now, I just Google him when I'm having a bad day.

Current Indulgence
Cooking. I really shouldn't be cooking so much, but it makes me feel good.

Current Outfit
Work out gear.

Current Banes of My Existence
"Tebowing." Don't get me wrong, I like Tim Tebow. But having ESPN having a "Tebow Hour." This is just getting out of control.

Current Excitement
Seeing the number on the scale start getting a tiny bit smaller.

Current Mood
So sleepy!

Music To My Ears

2012-01-10T06:57:00.000-08:00

Growing up, my parents had a requirement that all us children learned to play a musical instrument. Most of us started on the piano, but our lessons grew to include the flute, the guitar, the violin, the trumpet, the cello, and the drums.

While I'm pretty sure my dad an ulterior motive that may have included visions of a modern von Trapp Family Singers, I always appreciated the opportunity my parents gave us to learn music. It opened another side of my brain that may have otherwise been completely suffocated by all the math and biology I later stuffed in there.

Several months ago, Bug brought home a paper from his school which stated the school would be starting orchestra lessons. I felt hesitant, as my default mode is to avoid anything that may add more stress to our schedules. But I thought of my parents, and how much I appreciated the music lessons (yes, even when my mom was forcing me to play Fur Elise one more time, I still appreciated it.) I asked Bug what instrument he wanted to play.

The violin.

Less than a week later, we had rented a violin, purchased music books and a music stand and he was taking lessons.

Each day, I get to hear him play his way through "Old MacDonald" and "Twinkle Little Star" and "Good King Wenceslas," complete with squeaks and wrong notes and timing that is just a little off. It is music to my ears. When the stray thought comes up that I have had enough of the violin for one day, I think of how often my own parents listened uncomplaining to other awkward attempt at "Three Blind Mice."

Each day he improves. And he is the happiest little violinist, practicing each day without complaint and often without reminder.

His first concert is next week. This mommy is going to be bursting with pride as she listens to elementary students meticulously play through each song.

Each time I hear the metal clicking of the music stand being put together and the first squeak of the bow across the strings, I get a small flash back to my childhood, a childhood filled with music. Now there is music in my house, and I love it.

The No Parent

2012-01-09T06:22:00.000-08:00

Hubster tells the boys "yes" a lot. Yes, you can play computer. Yes, you can eat that cookie right before dinner. Yes, you can wear those pants to school. Yes, you can stay up past bedtime.

He's the Yes Parent.

And if he's the Yes Parent, you know what that makes me.

I'm the No Parent. No, you can't play video games. No, you can't have a fruit snack right now. No, you can't wear a cape to school. No, you can't bounce on the couch.

It feels like I say "No" all the time. I know that it's not all the time. But if there is something slightly questionable, something that pushes the rules a little bit, the boys know that Hubster will say "Yes" and that I will say "No."

I hate being the No Parent. The No Parent is the less liked one. The No Parent is the mean parent. The No Parent is the one that gets to listen to the crying and the whining and the begging for just 5 more minutes of iPhone games. It's no fun being the No Parent. I want to be the nice parent, the one that gets to swoop in and say, "Oh, here you go, here a bowl of ice cream for you to snack on while I cook dinner." Unfortunately, there has to be a No Parent.

Although I always tell Hubster that if he would stop being the Yes Parent, than I wouldn't be the No Parent and we would just both be The Parents. We would be a united parental force of No. There would be no more of the children choosing which parent to ask for things.

But then I watch how much fun happens when "Yes" happens. I watch what happens when I say yes to extra stories, yes to blanket forts, yes to another round of Uno, yes to games of hide-and-seek before bedtime.

I know that there has to be a No Parent. And I'm willing to take that roll, if it keeps the kids off the computer and eating healthy. But Hubster and the boys are also making me see that it is just as important to say yes. Occasionally. Once in a while. Maybe.

To-Do List of 2012

2012-01-03T07:25:00.000-08:00

I love lists. I make all sorts of lists. Menus, grocery shopping lists, to-do lists for busy days, check boxes for work. Sometimes I make lists that include things I have already done, just so I can have the delicious satisfaction of crossing things off my list.

Much more ambitious than a list for a day or a trip to the grocery store is Project 52, the creation of Karen and Jennee. A list of goals for the year, Project 52 gives me the chance not only to make the list, but to have support as I go through the year, crossing things off.

I enjoyed this so much last year that I am participating again this year. I've been thinking of my list for over a month, and am so excited to finally make it real, to write it down, so that I can get on with the best part: crossing things off.

1. Find one drawer/closet/cupboard to clean out each month.
2. Get to know my neighbors.
3. Finally overcome my blogging insecurities, and submit posts for SITS (if you have any ideas for posts of mine that you have liked, let me know.)
4. Visit Chicago again.
5. Plan a great spring break vacation.
6. Get a rain barrel.
7. Start posting my menus on my blog.
8. Share some recipes.
9. Get a plant for inside my house.
10. Visit three new places.
11. Get serious about finding a job, meaning I actually have to submit my CV or talk to an actual person.
12. Break out the oil paints and put brush to canvas.
13. Cook with an ingredient I have never used before. Do this three times.
14. Do the Couch-to-5K program.
15. Make a bedtime and stick with it.
16. Make new chore charts for the boys.
17. Send a handwritten letter to 5 friends.
18. Do something special for turning 30.
19. Donate money to something.
20. Get through my anesthesia question book twice.
21. Introduce my boys to art.
22. Get my boys in the kitchen cooking with me.
23. Get a pedicure.
24. Make bread.
25. Go to a drive in movie theater.
26. Go ice skating.
27. Ride a train.
28. Read a parenting book.
29. Learn to take a compliment.
30. Do three home improvement projects.
31. Plant a garden.
32. Make maple syrup.
33. Visit two museums.
34. Volunteer at the school.
35. Start family sharing at the dinner table.
36. Get a better handle on our finances.
37. Write at least 10 blog posts a month.
38. Dance in the rain with my children.
39. Make a baking soda-vinegar volcano.
40. Work on the boys (not so) baby books.
41. Print some of my pictures.
42. Clean the garage.
43. Ride my bike to work at least 10 times.
44. Visit family.
45. Invite friends over for dinner.
46. Let go of the clothes that don't fit.
47. Buy myself flowers twice.
48. Surprise Hubster with a date night.
49. Sew something.
50. Sign the boys up for swimming lessons.
51. Go camping three times.
52. Actually, for all seriousness, get my passport.

52 items feels like a lot. But that's where Project 52 and all the support that comes with it is so wonderful. I can remember that I have an entire year to do all these things, working at them slowly a week, a month at a time. I may not get everything done. But the goal is to have something definitive to show for the year, to cross things off.

Pictures for 2011

2011-12-31T17:34:00.000-08:00

There are hours left of this year. This year has been busy, exhausting, amazing, surprising, and a hundred other adjectives. This year has seen a trip to Utah, the celebration of 10 years of marriage, the start of dental school for Hubster, Monkey head off to kindergarten, and Bug get glasses.

There are many ways to summarize a year, either in blog posts, numbers, or stories. But I'm going to do it in pictures, because too often my words fail to capture what I'm trying to say. There is not necessarily one picture for each month, but rather pictures of my favorite moments of the year.

This has been a year focusing mostly on family. It has been a good year, full of story times, small adventures, long call shifts, and family dinners. I expect nothing else from next year.

The Books of 2011

2011-12-28T10:00:00.000-08:00

At one point, when I had a lot of time (seriously, when was that?), when I read a book, I would instantly write a review of it. It allowed me to reflect on my thoughts about the book and share them with others.

It has been over a year since I have shared any book reviews. I kept thinking that I would catch up. But I found that months after reading a book, the details, both of the story and of my thoughts, have faded. There as no way to make an single post for each book. So, instead, I will review the books I remember reading in 2011 (and maybe 2010 as well).

The Help by Kathryn Stockett

Set in 1960 Jackson County, Mississippi, this amazing book follows a young white woman who decides to tell the stories of black maids. These amazing women are at first hesitant to share their stories. Stories that have to do with the shame of having to use separate bathrooms, of leaving their own families to work for wealthy white women, of the abuse and death of their loved ones. Slowly, Skeeter, the free-thinking, spirited white girl, gains their trust and their stories. As she does so, she comes to realize that these women see every thing, they know every thing about the families they serve, but they are not granted any respect. How can they raise white children, only to have those children grow up and treat them the same way their parents did?

This book was absolutely amazing, the best book I read all year. I always feel proud of myself for reading books before they were made into movies. This book, I just felt proud to have read.

Water For Elephants by Sara Gruen

Ready to start a successful career, Jacob Jankowski suddenly finds himself struck by tragedy. In his desperation to escape, he jumps aboard a train. Chance would have it that is a circus train. Jacob slowly become a member of the circus as the keeper of the animals. However, he also becomes involved in the lives of the circus members themselves. There is brutality, selfishness, and greed, anything necessary to put on a good show. Jacob, the only character who tries to remain good, is often the victim in this story that is so much more than just a circus novel. This book was full of beautiful details about post-Depression circuses, alive with color and sound and activity. Although at times it was a little overly explicit, it was still a fun read.

Wicked by Gregory Maguire
What does it mean to be wicked? Is good and evil just like history, dependent on who writes the story? That theme is at the heart of this amazing novel, set in the land of Oz, well before Dorothy ever arrived. Told from the view point of Elphaba, a green skinned girl, who, because of her obvious differences, is an outsider from the very beginning. Through her eyes and through her life, we are given a very different Oz, one where the Wizard of Oz is politically corrupt and attempting to create inequalities for talking animals and Munchinlanders. Elphaba does her best to combat the inequalities. And we cheer her on, because she is not the Wicked Witch of the West, but a brave, independent woman. However, she finds herself on the wrong side of history and is destroyed by a little girl with red shoes. Dark and serious, full of commentary on religion, politics, and concepts of fate and free will, this book is worth the read.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams

Just before the Earth is destroyed, Arthur Dent is saved by his friend Ford Prefect, someone he assumed was human, but is actually a researcher from another planet. Faced with being planetless, Arthur travels along since Ford throughout the galaxy, from one strange adventure to the next, along side characters such as Zaphod Beeblebrox, the eccentric President of the Galaxy, Trillian, a human like Arthur, and Marvin, a depressed robot. I adored this book, full of wry humor and commentary on the search for the meaning of life. After all, how many books will give you the answer to the meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything?

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

Set in World War II Germany, The Book Thief is the story of Liesel, a young foster daughter of poor parents. With no money and little happiness, Liesel attempts to improve her life by stealing, not money or food, but books. Reading these books, along with listening to her father's accordion's music, Liesel is able create some joy, a sense of normalcy. But the narrator of the book belies any joy that might be found in the story. For the narrator of the story is Death. When Hilter is taking over the world, and there is a Jew hidden in the basement, and a girl is stealing books, Death is an appropriate narrator. This book is heart-wrenching, beautiful, and worth reading.

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Those were my top five books this year. I know I read more great books, but I just can't remember.

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Other books I read but didn't enjoy that much:

The Rule of Four by Ian Caldwell: This book attempted to be what Dan Brown's The DaVinci Code and Angels and Demons were, but fell well short. Based on an interesting premise of an ancient writing holding valuable secrets, this book made several mistakes. First, the ancient writing was obscure and not one that any casual reader would have heard of or be interested in. Second, the book failed to make any point as to how the hidden secrets might have any relevance to modern life.

The Maze Runner Trilogy by James Daschner: I read this in an attempt to fill the void left by finishing The Hunger Games. And I think the author also desperately wanted to do this. While the first book starts out just fine, the entire series based in a futuristic world plagued by a horrible virus falls flats. It attempts to examine themes of human experimentation, the concept of the greater good, and effects of biological warfare, but comes off disconnected. Many parts of the story never come together, are never explained, and the greatest mysteries remain just that.

The Forest of Hands and Teeth by Carrie Ryan: A post-zombie apocalyptic novel, literally, this story follows Mary, a girl growing up in an isolated village surrounded by a zombie filled forest. This book, and the other two in the series, are everything a zombie novel should be. A little scary, a little gory, and a little romantic. But they never jumped from being those little things to being big anything.

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Trying to remember all the books, let alone the details of the books, was difficult. Next year, I'm going to do a better job. Or just read fewer books.

What did you read this year? What books did you love and what books did you hate? What should I read next year?

Project 52: The 2011 Finale, Part 2

2011-12-27T15:44:00.001-08:00

I'm just going to jump in with items #27-52. If you're interested in my success with goals #1-26, check it out here.

27. Read 5 non-work related books. Done. In fact, my goal next year should actually be to limit my non-work related reading.

28. Work on my kids' baby books at least once. No. Not once.

29. Figure out this baby planning thing. I have no news in this category.

30. Start looking at jobs. I've done a lot of casual talking about jobs. I'm going to start getting a little more serious about it later this winter.

31. Try to go visit family in Utah. We did this. The trip was wonderful. The boys' first time on an airplane was less wonderful.

32. Visit the farmer's market 5 times during the summer. Done. This is almost weekly during the summer. I miss the farmer's market.

33. Inner tube down a river. Done. This is one of my best summer memories.

34. Go skiing. Done.

35. Take my children to 3 different museums. I think we only made it to two different museums. So mostly done.

36. Host a dinner/barbecue at my house. No. I kept trying to do this, but schedules and weather just didn't cooperate.

37. Go antique shopping. Yes. We got Hubster's parents great gifts from a small, local antique shop.

38. Schedule date night with Hubster at least once a month. I need to stop making this a goal. It's not that Hubster and I don't like each other and wouldn't like to have a monthly date. But this is just never going to happen. We went on dates four times this year. When we realized that actually getting out of the house was going to be too much work, we decided to have home dates, where we would get take-out, rent a good movie, and put the kids to bed early. Both of those attempts ended up with me asleep on the couch in less than 20 minutes. I know that we need to make ourselves and our relationship a priority, but this will have to happen outside the constructs of a "date night."

39. Get a better sleep schedule. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Ha. Ha.

40. Scan my wedding pictures into my computer. Nope. I didn't even look at my wedding pictures once this year.

41. Take a multivitamin daily. I should never make a goal with the word "daily" in it.

42. Look into getting a pet with fur. I think that the boys are starting to break Hubster down. I can see little cracks in his anti-dog resolve. I think we should be ready for a dog in the next five years.

43. Get a rough draft of my research project. Done. Although I have come to hate the research project with a passion normally reserved for spring snow storms and texting divers.

44. Go ice skating. No. Although the boys ask to go all the time. Maybe we will go this week.

45. Make jam. No. I'm not really sure why this ever was put on the list.

46. Study 1 hour a day, 5 days a week for at four weeks in a row. Yes. But I haven't really done much studying since accomplishing this goal.

47. Calculate my monthly grocery budget. Yes.

48. Start my blogging project for my boys. Yes, such as seen here and here. I had wanted to do it every month. But nothing is ever going to happen that frequently.

49. Get our home videos transferred to DVD. No. But I think I have just found a good winter break activity for Hubster.

50. Organize my children's boxes of art work. Kind of. I moved all the artwork from several small boxes to one big box. I'm not sure if that is progress or not.

51. Volunteer for something at my kid's school. Yes. I volunteered at the school carnival. It was fun and I would love to be more involved.

52. Get my hair done. I actually did, but it was so long ago that it almost doesn't count. I am ending the year just as much in need of a haircut as I started it with.

My subtotal here is 14/26 (including partially, mostly-finished goals). And in grand total (I feel the need for a drum roll), I completed 31/52 goals, or 60% (if we are rounding, and the rules of mathematics are in my favor here.)
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This was a busy year. This would have been a busy year even without Project 52. But Project 52 let me make a list of things I wanted to get out of this year. This was a good year. This would have been a good year even without Project 52. But Project 52 let me makes dreams for the year and actually see some of those dreams come true. This was a successful year. And yes, it would have been a successful year even without Project 52. But Project 52 allowed me the chance to make a list, check it off, and celebrate each goal along the way.

Thank you, Karen and Jennee for putting this together. I'm so excited to do this all again next year. (And I need you to come up with really great lists yourself, because I'm about 10 items short.)

Snapshots of Christmas

2011-12-26T14:44:00.000-08:00

There is no picture (at least one that I can take) that would ever capture the pure magic that was in the air when Bug and Monkey woke us up at 6 am to open presents. They had already pillaged their stockings. In the still pitch black of the early winter morning, they were dancing around our room, attempting to stifle giggles that were spontaneously erupting from both of them.

When asked who woke up first, they both shouted, "Me!" Bug has woken up and scurried down off the top bunk to wake up Monkey, only to discover that he was already awake. I still have no idea what time they work up, since by the time they were not-so-quietly whispering "Merry Christmas" into our sleep heavy ears, all the stocking gifts were opened, played with, and the treats were consumed.

There is no picture to capture the undiluted happiness gleaming from their faces, but there are also no good works to capture Christmas day.

Even with a picture being worth a 1000 words, I still feel that these barely tell the story.

Here are snapshots of "the happiest day of the year."

What the pictures fail to capture is all the laughter, the frantic roaring noises Monkey made as he opened each present, the countless times the boys paused from their gifts to run over to Hubster and me to hug us and say "Merry Christmas." There are no pictures capturing us eating our fancy Christmas dinner in our pajamas. There are no pictures capturing my expression when Hubster surprised me with this...

There may not be pictures to perfectly capture the day, but there are wonderful memories tucked away.

I hope every one of you had a wonderful day, a day where words and pictures are not enough.

Christmas Eve

2011-12-24T20:58:00.000-08:00

Christmas Eve is my favorite day of the entire year. I love it even more than Christmas Day. There is something so magical in the anticipation. The planning and dreaming and waiting are never anticlimactic.

During daylight hours, caramel popcorn was made and paper snowflakes were cut (to make up for the complete lack of snow outside).

Latkes have been eaten for Christmas Eve dinner.

There is only one door left to open on the Advent Calendar. All the carols that I tucked in each box, along with the chocolate, have all learned and sung.

Christmas Eve presents have been opened.

Christmas stories have been read (My Penguin Osbert, The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, The Night Before Christmas, The Polar Express, and the New Testament Christmas story), while wearing new pajamas.

Now, the boys are finally tucked in and asleep (hopefully with visions of sugar plums).

The stockings are filled and hanging from the mantle.

The presents are all tucked under the tree.

Tomorrow is Christmas. I know that it will be wonderful. And it's the anticipation of how wonderful tomorrow will be that makes me happy. Tomorrow, it will be a loud jumble of boxes and paper and laughter. Tonight, it is quiet, beautiful, and full of wonder. Tonight, it is my favorite time of the year.

(Semi)Traditional

2011-12-22T17:04:00.000-08:00

I think of us as a young family. I still like to think of Hubster and I as very young parents and our boys as very young boys.

However, this will be the 10th Christmas Hubster and I have spent as a family. Along the way, we have collected a few traditions. There have also been things that we have done that I thought would be traditions. However, when we moved halfway across the country, or when my busy schedule overtook family like, some things got lost along the way. I've spent time mourning the traditions that are no longer. But what I'm starting to realize is that they didn't matter so much. The things that really mattered are the things that we still do, no matter where we live, or how crowded the schedule.

So despite us being a "young" family, ten years is plenty of time to have traditions, the things we "always" do.

There has always been an outing to pick a Christmas tree. Yes, it's taken place at different venues, from small tree lots to national hardware stores to local tree farms. But there is always an outing and there is always a real tree.

There has always been It's A Wonderful Life. I don't think I've gone a single Christmas without watching this movie. Last year, I hesitantly watched it with the boys, worrying that they would be put off by the length, the seriousness, or the black-and-white. But they loved it and we are excited to watch it again this year.

There are always paper snowflakes. Some of my earliest childhood memories involve making paper snowflakes. Each year, we still cut them out and tape them to the windows and hang them from the ceiling. This year, it may be the only snow we get.

There are always cookies with the cookie press. I always feel too busy to make cookies, but without fail, there is time for butter cookies, pressed into wreath and tree and star shapes and covered with sprinkles.

There has always been Christmas Eve story time, where we read The Polar Express, The Night Before Christmas, The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, and the Bible Story. I get choked up and cry without fail.

There will always be latkes for Christmas Eve dinner, a reminder that there was Judaism before there was Christianity.

There will always be early Christmas mornings, with stockings and presents and monkey bread.

And even if many of these traditions fall away as time goes on and we stop being a young family and start being a grown family, there will always be the memories.

Project 52: The 2011 Finale, Part 1

2011-12-20T09:05:00.000-08:00

I had intended on doing a single post on all my goals. However, Karen's last post made me realize that it would be more manageable to actually divide it up (just like she did.)

I can not believe that the year is ending. All the things that in January I resolved to do, it's already time to take account on how I've done. It has been a whirlwind of a year. And I'm actually grateful for Project 52, because there are so many things that I would never have done had I not made this list. I may not have done everything. But I pushed myself, and enjoyed all 52 weeks!

The List: #1-26

1. Organize my closets: Umm.. I sure thought about this a lot. But I never actually got around to doing it. Although we did actually get closet doors on Hubster's closet, so that was an improvement.

2. Complete 3 home improvement projects. Done: Closet doors, hand rails for the stairs, and painting all the the back door.

3. Get my passport. No. I filled out all the paperwork, but then found out how expensive it was. However, I'm interested in doing an international trip with my work next year, so this one has to happen next year.

4. Plan an awesome 10 year wedding anniversary celebration. If by awesome, you mean Omaha, Nebraska, then YES! Actually, Hubster and I had a fabulous dinner, then a weekend touring the bridges of Madison County and a trip to Omaha. It was quite fabulous.

5. Find 3 unfinished projects and finish them. I may have actually made negative ground on this goal, by starting even more projects and not finishing those. I have a problem.

6. Visit 3 new restaurants. Done by leaps and bounds. Thanks to good friends, I have visited more new restaurants this year than the last 5 year (probably the last 5 years combined, even.)

7. Plan monthly menus. This has been my biggest accomplishment. It has become a huge part of our family. From planning out the schedules, to the new chalkboard menu in the kitchen, where the boys watch me each Sunday write out the menu for the week. It's been amazing. The other amazing part has been people who tell me they have been inspired by this.

8. Meet my girlfriends for brunch one a month. It definitely wasn't once a month. But, with trying to coordinate the schedules of a group of residents, it happened as frequently as it could.

9. Send birthday cards to all my siblings and be on time this year. Yes! I don't think I missed one.

10. Paint at least once. I painted trim, but that wasn't what I meant. So no. My art supplies are still tucked away, gathering dust.

11. Go visit at least one new church. Yes.

12. Visit the Herbet Hoover Historic Site. No. I kept trying to, but the weather never cooperated.

13. Go camping four times. We went three times, not four. But close enough that I'm saying we are done with this.

14. Find 3 ways to be green. Done. Not that we are a carbon neutral family, but from riding our bikes to work when the weather permits, to getting mulch from the city yard waste program, to washing our clothes in cold water, to getting more active in recycling, we have made big strides. We also have plans for more things to do that we are excited about.

15. Use my crock pot once a month. At the beginning of the year, I felt I was never going to get this done. Now, with my monthly menu, I use my crock pot nearly once a week. So I'm saying this one is done.

16. Catch up on my book reviews. I have not done this. But I still have plans to get this done before the end of the year.

17. Set up electronic bill paying. We have not done this yet. This is another one I plan on doing before the year is over.

18. Start saving some money, no matter how little. I have set up monthly transfer from my checking account to my "high interest" saving account. It's not much, but it's something.

19. Register Monkey for kindergarten. Not only is he registered, but he's halfway done with kindergarten. This deserves it's own post.

20. Grow herbs. Done. Although I should have said "plant herbs" because not everything I planted grew.

21. Visit Wisconsin. We didn't make it north this year, but we have plans to visit Wisconsin this coming spring.

22. Walk 5 times a week on weeks the temperature is not freezing. I didn't pay that much attention, but we did walk every chance we could.

23. Go to the doctor and get my hand looked at. Done. I even made a follow up appointment and then an appointment for another referral to a different specialist. I also have a diagnosis. Maybe I'll do a post about this at some point.

24. Introduce my children to musicals. We watched "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers," "Court Jester," and "King and I." There are so many more to watch, but it was definitely an introduction. The only person who didn't like it was Hubster.

25. Have a Harry Potter marathon. I had a Harry Potter book marathon. I would have a Harry Potter movie marathon, but there is no way I would stay awake.

26. Donate blood. I had planned on it, but then being on call during our department blood drive. Maybe next year.

17/26, with 2 more to be done in the next 10 years. I'm quite proud of myself. It's amazing how much you can get done in a year with a list and a plan.

The Things I Want to Remember: For Bug

2011-12-14T07:19:00.000-08:00

Dear Bug,

Sometimes it takes me noticing the gap between the bottom of your pants and your shoes, where your socks are showing plainly, for me to realize how fast you are growing. I could swear those pants fit you just last week.

There is going to be a time, coming much too quickly judging by your rapidly shrinking clothes, that you are going to want more time to yourself, more time with friends, and less time with me. So I'm going to try to remember everything I can from this time now.

I want to remember you reading. You lay on your back on the couch, the book held above your head, reading Calvin and Hobbes, giggling loudly to yourself.

I want to remember our conversations. For example, doing spelling practice this week:
Me: Bug, how did you do on your pre-test?
Bug: I missed one.
Me: Great job!
Bug: What?! I said I missed one.
Me: But they were all new words. Only missing one is good. It's not like you missed 12 out of 14.
Bug: Yeah. That would be the end of the world.
Me: No. No it wouldn't. The end of the world is worse, like when someone you love dies.
Bug: No. Actually, the end of the world is when a huge comet hits the planet.

The entire time we are talking, I can't believe we are having this conversation. How did it get to the point we can have conversations like this, and you make witty remarks?

I want to remember even the slightly painful things: like the fact you won't hug me in front of your friends anymore.

I want to remember how you still sleep with your stuffed tiger, Stripey. Because you are my very own, much better behaved, Calvin and Hobbes. Because a boy still needs his tiger.

I want to remember how are proud and protective of your little brother. You are always pointing out cute things he is doing, telling him how great his drawings are, congratulating him on the fantastic block tower he built. You are a good big brother, despite how difficult Monkey can make it for you sometimes.

I want to remember how you said you weren't sure you wanted to go to college, because that means you would have to move away, and you like being home with us. You say it makes you sad to think about moving away someday.

I want to remember that now, even at this age, you want to read together each night, and get a piggyback ride to bed. You still want me to tuck you under the covers and kiss you goodnight.

I know that all these things are going to change. So I'm doing my best to remember.

Love,
Mom

The Things I Want to Remember: For Monkey

2011-12-12T16:58:00.000-08:00

Dear Monkey,

There are things right now that I'm sure I would be just fine forgetting. The fact that you have become such a picky eater. That your default mood is whiny. That you still have a hard time sleeping in your bed.

But there are so many more things that I want to remember. I keep forgetting to write them down. I know that the memories are slipping through the cracks of the busy schedule faster than I can gather them back up in the quiet of the night.

I want to remember how you insist on having a straw with every single thing that you drink. Whether it is your after-school strawberry milk, or breakfast orange juice, or water with dinner, you much have a straw.

I want to remember how you tromp after your Daddy to the woodpile in the cold winter evenings. It doesn't matter how cold it is, or if you are already in your pajamas, if Dad is going to get wood, you are doing with him, stomping over the hard ground in your boots, holding the lantern.

I want to remember how much you love animals. Each library trip finds our book bag filled with books about platypuses, armadillos, frogs, insects, chameleons. You say that you are going to grow up and be a zookeeper.

I want to remember your wild imagination. After studying the 5 senses at school, you were asked to draw items that you would like to touch and items you would not like to touch. Under your "like to touch" box, you drew "fake insects, nice snakes, and grass." Under your "don't want to touch" box, you drew "real insects and poisonous lollipops."

I want to remember all the funny things you say:
-While learning state names: "What do they have in New Hamster? A lot of hamsters or something?"
-Getting ready for bed: "Daddy, I really love you, but I NEED A DRINK!"

I want to remember how you shout playfully that you don't want me to go to work, hanging on my leg and hollering that you won't let go and that I can't leave.

I want to remember how you snuggle up to me on couch while we read, lifting my arm up so that you can get even closer. How you ask for a blanket so that we can be warm while we snuggle. How you fall asleep under my arm, your head heavy with dreams. How I carry you to bed, along with an entourage of stuffed animals.

I want to remember all this. I want you to remember all this.

Love,
Mom

Currently - December

2011-12-07T19:00:00.000-08:00

Current Book
Just finished The Book Thief. This book was excellent. Now I'm finishing up The Maze Runner series.

Also, I am determined to get a book review post out before the end of the year, so I can share my thoughts on the books I have read this year.

Current Albums
Waking Up by OneRepublic
Funeral by Arcade Fire

Current Shame-Inducing Guilty Pleasure
Pinterest. I am newly obsessed. Because I need another time suck in my life.

Current Drink
Eggnog. Tis the season.

Current Songs
"Wagon Wheel" by Old Crow Medicine Show
"The Way I Am" by Ingrid Michaelson

Current Wish-List
A house keeper and a personal chef

Current Needs
Two consecutive days off. It's coming up this weekend. I'm so excited.

Current Triumph
Getting Monkey to sleep in his own bed instead of the floor
Having all my Christmas shopping done and Christmas cards mailed by December 1st.

Current Favorite Film
We just rented Super 8, and I loved it!

Current TV Show
Person of Interest
Chopped

Current Indulgence
Blogging. Given everything right now, even 15 minutes of straight computer time feels like a luxury.

Current Outfit
Breaking out my cozy winter sweaters!

Current Banes of My Existence
The state of our bathrooms. They are quite neglected.

Current Excitement
Christmas. I'm crazy excited!

Current Mood
Vitamin D deficient tired. I need some sunshine.

The Tree

2011-12-05T18:05:00.000-08:00

Each year, I have to look back to see what I wrote about the Christmas tree. Because each year, I feel the same way about it, and want to say the same thing. About the old debate about artificial vs real, the way it doesn't feel like Christmas until the tree is up and decorated. This year, it was just the same. But then again, it wasn't.

This year, instead of driving to the store to pick up a tree, we drove further, along unpaved roads, through rolling countryside that is so American heartland that it leaves me breathless.

We drove to a small local tree farm to cut our own tree. The day was misty and wet.

We hiked over the muddy ground through the rows of White Pine, Scotch Pine, and Canaan Fir to look for the perfect tree. We ended up walking the rows several times, because the two different trees we liked were on opposite ends of the farm.

We finally decided on a bright green, fat Scotch pine. Bug and Monkey took turns sawing through the tree. They shouted, "Timber!" in absolute delight of the opportunity to do so.

Then, with Hubster at one end and me at the other, we carried the tree back up the hill, where the extremely friendly farmer shook out the loose needles and tied it to the top of the car.

The boys and I petted bunnies instead of helping.

I love that the tree is local Iowa grown. I love that it is freshly chopped. I love that we were helping out local farmers. I even love that it is the pokiest tree and so fat we had to do more furniture arranging than anticipated.

Once we were home, the tree was put up in the living room, the boxes of decorations were brought up from the basement, and Christmas music was started. I opened the boxes of gold and silver ornaments and then stood back. This year, I let them decorate by themselves. I hung garland around the house, put up the wreath, but didn't help with the Christmas tree baubles. I watched the boys be so sweet to each other and so proud of their work.

After every box was empty, the boys felt the tree was perfect. I absolutely agreed with them. I added a few flowers, but didn't move a single one of their carefully placed ornaments. There was no need.

The warm fuzzy feeling, the joy of watching my boys, and the tree in the corner. It was all perfect.

Holiday Blues

2011-11-23T07:00:00.000-08:00

I'm having a hard time getting in the holiday mood. I'm not procrastinating anything. In fact, everything is ready for Thanksgiving tomorrow. Christmas cards are done and (mostly) addressed. Almost all the Christmas presents are bought. But I feel like I'm just going through the motions.

The days have flown by, so I'm in denial that it is actually November, let alone nearly the end of November. And since I can barely register the fact that it is the end of fall, it feels that there is no way it can be Thanksgiving tomorrow.

I'm also just to-my-bone-marrow tired. I've been working some of my longest hours in a long time, working 80-90 hours a week for the last several weeks. I'm also on a night shift currently, which just makes me feel cantankerous. And being on nights means that I work 6 days a week, regardless of holidays.

So that means I will be working Thanksgiving day. Actually twice. I get home at 7:30 am on Thanksgiving morning, and have to head back to work at 5:30 pm. I feel that if I have to hear about everyone's 4-5 day weekend, and about all the family and friends they will be seeing, I might have a meltdown. There will be no holiday weekend. There will be no gathering of extending family and friends. There will just be us and a very tired me.

So that's my little pity party for one.

However...this does provide us with good opportunities. We are still planning on a full traditional Thanksgiving dinner. Which means for the first time ever, we have to cook a turkey. I am scared to death of this, but Hubster and I are doing this together. Our turkey is currently being brined, and I'm so excited about it. Tomorrow it will be injected with broth and butter and stuffed with onions and apples.

Given my schedule, there won't be down time after the dinner. But Hubster is planning on bringing our pies to the hospital, so that we can have dessert in the evening, and share it with the other residents that are also away from their families on the holiday.

I'm planning on being over my negativity by the time I wake up this afternoon. I'm planning on cooking with my family and make holiday memories together. I'm planning on forgoing some sleep to make sure that happens. Even if there is no large family gathering, or days off, and even if dinner is eaten around a hospital table instead of the dinner table, I'm planning on celebrating.

Update: I have made two realizations. First, every time I open my mouth (or my laptop) to complain, I have a moment when I realize how pathetic and whiny I sound. Second, I really shouldn't talk (or write) when I am tired. I've slept. And guess what? I'm not really that upset. I'm okay (ish) that I'm working Thanksgiving. It means that someone else won't be. I'm going to have time with my family, and I love them so much. The turkey, despite how afraid I am of it, is going to be awesome. The pies are already done. This is going to be an awesome holiday. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

Shiny New Menu

2011-11-21T06:29:00.000-08:00

Ever since I started meal planning back in September, it has become a little bit of an obsession. I've become compulsive about it (and there you have it, a diagnosis, just like that.)

I'm always on the look out for new recipes, keeping an eye open for what's in season and how I should cook it (which is really not a lot right now here in the icy, but not just snowy, state of Iowa.) Our evenings are so much smoother and our diets are so much healthier. The times that we just give up and go for a fast food run have been cut drastically.

Since this has become such a big deal, I couldn't continue just using a little sheet of paper stuck to the side of the fridge.

No, this was much more important than that. So much bigger.

So, I did what any normal, compulsively planning menu obsessing woman would do. I bough a can of chalkboard paint and painted out a large rectangle on a wall in my kitchen.

I love my new chalkboard menu (although I would like to point out that the walls in our house are textured, not flat. Hubster mentioned this to be just as I was starting to paint and asked if I wanted to sand the wall first. I didn't. I was in the zone and just ready to do this already. Turns out, he was right. A textured chalkboard isn't the most ideal writing surface. Another point to Hubster.)

Each week, I write out the week's menu (from the scrawled on monthly menu sheet on the side of the fridge - that's not going away.)

Now, not only is the hard work I spent planning meals for the family nicely displayed, but there is finally something on the blank walls in our kitchen. I personally think it goes with everything else quite nicely.

Everyday, the boys run into the kitchen and read out loud the dinner planned for that night. Sometimes the meals are a little nicer, a little fancier.

Other weeks, they are not.

The trick is still actually getting the boys to eat anything, no matter how pretty the menu is.

A Story About an Ottoman

2011-11-17T06:09:00.000-08:00

Early on in our marriage, every singe piece of furniture Hubster and I owned was a hand-me-down. One of those pieces was a very large, rustic planked coffee table. And by large, I mean taking up half our living room large (yes, the living room was barely the width of a hallway, but still.) Despite the size and the unattractiveness of the table, we didn't replace it because it was (nearly) better than having nothing.

Bug loved the table. It was perfect for doing Superman leaps off of. But then along came Monkey. When the kid started walking, he fell down and hit his head so many times on the hard edges of that table, I was convinced he would never be normal. That's when I insisted that the huge wooden structure go.

We replaced it with a nice, soft, padded ottoman. Nothing fancy, just a simple piece we found at Target that also had the added benefit of extra storage. Now when Monkey fell and hit his head, at least it was against something soft (except for the walls and corners and chairs and floor...there is only so much a mother can do.)

However, our pretty little ottoman was not to last. Monkey, in his typical mon k ey-ish fashion, used it for teething. Bug, his previous launching pad gone, continued to use the ottoman for superhero take-offs. Just a couple years use, and the ottoman was tattered. It didn't help that Monkey, well past his teething phase, continued to pull it apart, one handful of stuffing at a time.

Being the frugal people we are, we didn't replace it. After all, it was (nearly) better than having nothing.

But finally, I couldn't take the eyesore at the center of our otherwise pretty living room. We started looking for another ottoman. We ended up going to Target and buying the exact same one. It's affordable and cute and worked well in our space.

Instead of being all saggy and tattered and shreaded with stuffing hanging out at all sides, the ottoman is now clean and shiny and pretty again.

I had forgotten how nice it looked before kids.

Then I realized something...

The ottoman before kids...

The ottoman after kids...

I feel pretty much the same way.

Iowa Houses, Part 3

2011-11-16T06:36:00.000-08:00

When my mother visited us last month, we did so many fun things. We explored graveyards, spent a day at a pumpkin patch, and made enormous leaf piles.

My mom and I share a love for little adventures.

But by far, my favorite thing we did together was spend a sunny afternoon riding bicycles through some of the prettier neighborhoods in my town. The air was perfectly fall, the sidewalks covered in a crispy layer of leaves. We rode slowly up and down the tree lined streets full of older homes.

We admired windows, archways, and brickwork. We discussed Tudor and Colonial and midcentury modern.

And I took pictures of all the pretty colored homes.

That afternoon, pedaling through the crunch of fallen leaves, every mundane side street became an adventure.

House watching is done best from the seat of a bicycle. And with your mother.

Regrets and Choices

2011-11-15T07:51:00.000-08:00

At my work, when people find out that I have children, they are usually surprised. Apparently, I look much too young to have any children, let alone a 9 year old and a 5 year old.

I get asked a lot of questions. How do I do it? How do the kids manage with my work schedule? How do things work with Hubster's schedule?

One of the questions that I have been asked too frequently, especially by other physicians, is whether I regret having children. It's usually phrased differently, such as do I regret having children at such a young age, or do I regret having them so early in my medical career, or do I regret having children that distract me from medicine.

Regardless of how it's phrased, or how tactful the questioner attempts to be (usually failing completely), all they want to know is whether I regret my children.

Balancing medicine and family is difficult.

I find it a little ironic that I never once have been asked the reverse question. Do I regret going in to medicine?

After all, Bug was part of my life before medicine was. So asking me if I would choose medicine over my children is ludicrous.

I've answered both questions to myself, both the one I've been asked multiple times and the one I've only asked myself. I have never once regretted my children. Not once, not even in my worst parenting moments. But I have regretted medicine.

During the application process, I wondered if I was brave enough, outgoing enough. During medical school, I wondered if I was smart enough. During residency, I've wondered I'm dedicated enough. It's been a long process, and I've spent a lot of time, too much time, wondering if I made the right decision all those years ago.

I was driving home yesterday after a 90+ hour week, in tears because I was getting home too late to see my family, the family that I don't regret at all. I've worked so much the last several weeks that I feel I've become a non-entity in my family. I'm tired and frustrated and upset.

But I have come to terms with my choice. Just like my children, medicine was a choice. No one forced me to do this.

I know that I'll continue to be tired. And I'll continue to be questioned about my choices.

But I'm done regretting.

Leaf Pile

2011-11-03T17:21:00.000-07:00

Our backyard is nearly circled by trees, meaning that in fall, our backyard becomes a thick patchwork blanket of leaves. Which really only gives you one choice...

Leaf piles!

It started out with me raking and the boys running around the yard, kicking soccer balls, swinging, and chasing each other with sticks. Then I realized that was a lot of wasted energy.

It only took a little while for them to put that energy to good work and make the largest leaf pile they had ever seen (which is good motivation to continue to make it even bigger!)

And after a leaf pile that big is made, there really is only one option...

Jump in it!

First there was just jumping. Then there was burying each other with leaves. Then, we would start at the back of the yard, all hold hands and run, yelling at the top of our lungs and jump all together in the leaves. We were loud, leaf covered, and happy.

While the boys were jumping in the leaves, they were required to hold still momentarily to let their crazy mom take cute pictures of them. These are the rules.

After we were all raked, jumped, and photoed out, we went inside for warm drinks, where we continued to pull bits of leaves and sticks out of our hair and clothes.

The one added perk of all these leaves? The city leaf program that came and vacuumed them all up the next day.

Tricks and Treats

2011-11-01T19:25:00.000-07:00

I wish that I could tell you what a great time we had trick-or-treating, or how wonderful it was to watch my children finally be brave enough to ring a doorbell by themselves.

(Pictures by Hubster)

But Halloween handed out more tricks this year than treats. I was working a 28 hour shift yesterday, so I wasn't there. Halloween isn't like Thanksgiving or Christmas, where we could just celebrate on a different day if necessary. Halloween is pretty much just a October 31st thing.

I was keeping plenty busy, with barely enough time to think about the fact it was a holiday. But as I took some time for dinner, and saw that the sun was sinking low and the light was beginning to fade, I thought about my boys and hoped they were having a fabulous time.

However, despite the tricks of the schedule, there were still treats enough. After the candy amassing was over, my little ghost and boxer came up to the hospital to visit me. Every nurse and patient who saw them had to smile.

We shared candy, Monkey constantly trying to give me all the sour ones out of his pumpkin. They told me about the scary houses they wouldn't go up to, and how much fun they had had.

The pager went off again, and it was time for good-byes, and definitely time for bed for two sugar saturated boys.

Part of me wanted to cry for missing Halloween. But kissing goodnight to the Jolly Rancher scented boys, I realized that really all I missed was them.

Pumpkin Patches and Corn Pits

2011-10-31T05:00:00.000-07:00

Those beautiful pumpkins we carved came from a local pumpkin patch. For us, going and picking the pumpkins is just as important as carving them.

I had been hearing a lot about this farm a little north of us, so we decided to made the trip. I was so glad we did.

This place was way more than just a pumpkin patch! (This also equates with way more expensive than just a pumpkin patch, since all the other places we have ever gone to, the only thing we had to pay for was the pumpkins.)

We ended up spending the entire afternoon.

There was a 10 acre corn maze.

There were piggy races (I cheered on Kevin Bacon.)

There were giant slides and tractor tire mazes.

There were corn cannons to fire and goats to feed.

There was a corn pit to roll in. We continued to find corn in the boys pockets and shoes the rest of the day.

And, of course, there were pumpkins.

We road the hay crib out to the pumpkin field. The boys strolled up and down between the pumpkins, trying to pick out the very best one. We then rode the hay crib back to the barn, with arms wrapped tightly around pumpkins.

This is how pumpkin picking should be. A pumpkin patch, between fields of corn, in the middle of Iowa. This not only makes for the best pumpkins, but the best memories.

Carving Pumpkins

2011-10-30T09:40:00.000-07:00

Pumpkin carving is a big deal in our family. A VERY big deal.

It always starts out as all of us around the table, carving together.

This year, it also involved the boys being grossed out by pumpkin innards, squealing and running away from their pumpkins as I scooped out the stringy flesh and seeds.

That's how it starts. How it ends is all the pumpkins being finished, except for Hubster's. First, because he's helping all of us, and secondly, because his designs are usually so complicated that they take a long time. The the evening ends with me falling asleep on the couch and him waking me up some while later to take pictures of all the pumpkins.

That being said, I think the pumpkins turned out quite well this year. But then again, I say that every year.

Monkey, going along with his most recent obsession, choose an Angry Birds pumpkin.

Bug decided he didn't want any help with his pumpkin. He choose his design without help, transferred it onto the pumpkin without help, and then carved it out, without help. Although I hovered nervously over him the entire time.

I tried to break with my tradition of carving a feminine pumpkin (although I still love my Maleficent pumpkin from last year) by carving a scene from Nightmare Before Christmas.

And Hubster got to carve something that makes him giggle every time...Dr. Evil.

You can also check out our pumpkins from the last few Halloweens:
Pumpkins 2010
Pumpkins 2009
Pumpkins 2008
Other Pumpkins

Candy Corn Crazy

2011-10-27T14:13:00.000-07:00

I love candy corn. Yes, I know that it's too much sugar, loaded up with a hefty dose of artificial coloring and flavoring. But I love that candy. It's shape and color are so iconic of Halloween, not to mention that they taste good. Well, the first handful tastes good. And then I keep eating and end up feeling a little sick.

But I still love candy corn.

But do you know what is just as good as candy corn?

Candy corn ice cream. Oh, yes!

I used a recipe found here. Seriously, this stuff was so good, I think I need to make it again. (Although my taste buds and waistline slightly disagree about this.)

But candy corn can also be used for more than just guilty snacking.

It's decorating my front door.

I made a similar candy corn wreath last year. However, the instructions I was following last year had stated to cover the whole thing with Modge Podge. This didn't work at all. Trying to paint the candy corn made them all sticky and smeary. And two rainstorms into the season, my pretty wreath was a orange and yellow puddle on my front porch. So this year, I used spray varnish, which was less messy and has kept the candy off the porch and on the wreath were it belongs.

Every time I see this wreath, it makes me smile.

So there it is. At least three ways of ensuring that the myth of candy corn just being re-used each year is false!

What about you? Your thoughts on candy corn? Any more creative ways to use candy corn?

Graveyard Outing

2011-10-26T10:29:00.000-07:00

The afternoon was partly cloud, slightly chilly, and perfectly fall. We pulled up to the gate of the cemetery. Bug looks slightly anxious. "We won't be in there when it gets dark?" he asks.

Arms loaded with blank sheets of paper, we trudge over the uneven ground, fallen acorns crunching under our feet. We walk uphill, to the oldest part of the graveyard.

I love graveyards. I love the old, crumbling moss covered stones and the miniature architecture of the headstones. I love the stories each grave tells, half of them made up in my own head.

This particular afternoon, I have brought my boys to the oldest cemetery in the city so that we can make charcoal rubbings of headstones. We wander through the markers, some tipped or sunken into the ground. We look for beautiful carvings, touching poems, and oldest dates.

There is so much history here, history that no one really knows any more.

We visit the Black Angel, rumored to be the most haunted site around. I don't mention this to the boys. They're actually enjoying our little outing to the cemetery, and I don't want to scare them.

When we find headstones we liked, very old stones or those carved with intricate designs, we unroll our paper, lay it over the stone and then rubbed the paper with charcoal. Well, Bug, my mom, and I do. Monkey just runs around, filling his pockets with acorns.

We spend a good portion of the afternoon, wandering further and further in the cemetery, which turned out to be much larger than I imagined. Finally, the last light was filtering through the pine boughs, and we make our way back to the car, our rubbings rolled carefully under our arms, our hands black smudged. We leave well before dark.

The rubbings are now hung by the front door, the perfect Halloween decorations.

I think this will be an annual tradition.

Golden Autumn Light

2011-10-23T15:50:00.000-07:00

There is a light in autumn that is golden and warm, a light that makes my soul sing. Light that makes the poet and painter and photographer inside of me leap to the surface.

These golden days are filled to overflowing with hectic schedules. It feels that our days fly by faster than the Vs of geese overhead.

But the moments that the golden autumn light filters in through the now bare branches, in through the windows, it also filters into my soul, encouraging me to be still, breathe, and enjoy.

Death on the Table

2011-10-17T14:51:00.000-07:00

I had my first patient die in the operating room.

The call came at near the end of a grueling day. There was an emergency case coming from the ICU. I rushed to set up the operating room. Minutes later, the patient arrived, already the color of barely hanging on. We ignored that, and just went to work.

It was all hands on deck. There were three surgeons, and three of us with anesthesia on the other side of the blue drapes. We worked quickly, giving fluids, hanging infusions, pushing boluses of medications. The patient's blood pressure would drop, down, down, down, far enough down that my own heart would skip a beat with fear that this time would be it. But no. We gave medications, we gave more fluid, and the blood pressure would come back up.

Within minutes after incision, the surgeons informed us that things didn't look good. They didn't think the patient's condition was a survivable one. The plan to was close the incision, take that patient back to the ICU, and talk to the family.

That's when it happened. The patient's heart rate went from fast but regular, and degenerated into a dangerous rhythm. We pulled the drapes down to start CPR. But there was no bringing the patient back this time. There was no fighting death, who had been standing at bedside for so long, there was no fighting him off any longer.

There are patients who are too sick for us to save. And I know that. I know that. I know that! But right at the moment this is happening, when the blood pressure is falling to undetectable, and the EKG tracing is a chaotic scribble instead of a pattern, at this moment, I don't believe it. I believe in this medicine. That this medicine is good, and it's strong, and it saves people. Every day, I watch it save people.

And I know that people die. That we can't save everyone. But they don't die on my watch, they don't die on my table.

Except, now, they do.

Whatever it is that I know, right now I don't believe any of it. What I do believe at this moment goes against everything I know.

There are no more beeps of the monitors. I've shut them all off. It's quiet in the OR, a quiet that doesn't sit well, a quiet that turns and pulls at my insides. I stand there for a while, too long, not sure how to leave when my patient is still on table. But there is nothing else for me to do except to leave.

And now I have to go back to being normal. I have to pull off my mask and scrub hat, change out of my scrubs, and go back to my life. Except there is no going back to normal. There is still the buzz in my head from silenced alarms and the weight in my stomach from the failure of what I believed.

Happy Anniversary of Your 25th Birthday

2011-10-14T08:09:00.000-07:00

Every single year, when Hubster's birthday comes around, I start hearing a familiar refrain.

I'm so old. I just keep getting older. Why am I so old?

Obviously, Hubster is NOT old. Older, yes. But old? No. However, there is no way for me to convince him of this. Every since the day he turned 26, he has, in his mind, been old. 25 was his ideal age. Every year, he complains about his birthday. Since he is not turning 25, than he must be old. Every year, he attempts to convince me that we shouldn't do anything for his birthday. According to him, he just can't take any reminders that he just continues to get older.

This is coming from a man who watches Phineas and Ferb, eats cold pizza for breakfast and can do more pull-ups than anyone else I know. Yes, doesn't he just act so old?

I'm pretty good at compromise. Overall, I don't push Hubster to do things he doesn't want to do. But not celebrating? That isn't one of the things we are going to compromise on.

We will have cake.

We will have candles.

We will have presents.

I will find a babysitter and we will go out.

But it's all good. We aren't celebrating a birthday. We are celebrating the anniversary of him turning 25. Because that doesn't make him sound old at all.

How do you do it?

2011-10-13T07:22:00.000-07:00

Over the years, Hubster and I have heard it a lot.

How do you do it?

Meaning, how do we juggle two different jobs/careers/school/whatever with having two boys.

So many people do the same thing. There are many, many parents out there, both of whom are working, who have children. And somehow, we are all making it work. I'm sure that all those other working, ball juggling parents have heard the question, too. How do we do it?

For the longest time, I didn't have an answer to the question. We had been doing "this" for so long, that I wasn't exactly sure what my life would look like any other way. My go to response was we wake up each morning, and we just do it. There wasn't a lot of other options other than to keep waking up each morning and to keep doing it.

Along the way, I've been able to identify things that I feel have made it more difficult. We don't live next to any family. We don't have high paying jobs. We work more than nine to five (a lot more). All these things could result in why we just couldn't do it.

But we were. Everyday for nearly 10 years, we've been doing it. And hopefully, not just scraping by, but actually enjoying the journey. I've kept looking for an answer to the question on exactly how we have made this whole crazy, juggling circus act work. I think I've found it.

Hubster and I share the burden. I think that this is the only way we have been able to pull this off successfully. We don't fall into the stereotypical gender rolls. We don't have "his" jobs and "her" jobs. We have "our" jobs.

Whoever is home earliest makes dinner. Whoever has time bathes the boys. If one of us has a test or a project coming up, the other one will do laundry and take out the garbage. We both do dishes. We both clean (or we both don't clean, which is a little more accurate.)

There are things that I do or Hubster does because they fall more into our skill set. Hubster has never used a sewing machine, so I do the mending (even though he has asked me to show him how next time.) I don't know the first thing about cars, so Hubster does vehicle maintenance, such as air filters and oil changes.

We are a team. There is no "her" side and "his" side. It's just us. And we are doing this.

For all those of who out there who are also juggling two working parents with young children, please share how "you do it." Even though we may look like we have it all figured out, we don't! We still need all the help we can get.

I have hobbies...right?

2011-10-12T07:51:00.000-07:00

Several weeks ago, I had a medical student working with me in the operating room. He hadn't decided what he wanted to go into after medical school, and we were talking about the advantages of anesthesia. I try to convince everyone that they should do anesthesia. We talked about the autonomy, the problem solving, the close interaction with a patient's physiology. We talked about greater job flexibility and the chance to continue having a life outside the hospital, to continue to have hobbies.

"What hobbies do you have," the medical student asked me.

I paused. Well, I, um...I...sometimes I...um...

The only thing I could think about were my boys. How really the only thing I wanted to do was to do things with them. I kept trying to think of a hobby that I did besides be their mom.

I came up with nothing else.

It had happened. I had become one of those crazy moms who had no life outside being a mom. Yes, I work more than full time. I study as much as I can. But when I'm not doing anesthesia, what I'm doing is being a mom. I used to paint, do photography, play the flute and the piano, read, play tennis. Now, any free moment is spent preparing meals, doing homework with the boys, planning activities to do with them, going on family outings.

My kids are my hobby.

Do not misunderstand me. Being a parent has been the most amazing experience. I love being a parent. Honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way.

But I was surprised to realize how parenting had filled every nook and cranny of my life. I have always preached that as parents, moms or dads, we need to make sure we keep a balanced life. I know that I need to keep all the parts of me that aren't anesthesia and that aren't mom healthy and functional. It's not just about finding "me time" occasionally. I've been better at carving out time for just me, but it's usually spent watching a show late at night or playing on the internet. I have let all my hobbies get pushed to the back of the closet and covered in the piles of laundry and dishes.

I had thought for a while that blogging was my new hobby. It allowed to combine my love of writing and photography. But when I looked back over the past several months, it was clear that the mom side of me was taking over my blog as well. I have always used my blog as both a place to talk about my family and our activities and as a place to write about my thoughts. But the family and activities have dominated over any personal posts for quite some time.

I have become the kid-obsessed, annoying mommy blogger.

Most of me wouldn't have it any other way.

But there is that little piece, a tiny piece that wants to write and sing and paint, the a tiny piece that has been tucked far back in a corner behind the boxes of physiology and pharmacology and monthly menus and back-to-school nights, a tiny little piece that wants to be taken out and dusted off and see the light of day again.

Playing Tarzan

2011-10-11T07:09:00.000-07:00

Happiness is...

A new way to swing.

During our weekend adventures, we came across vines in the woods, vines hanging from high up branches. If you happen to have a family full of boys, well, then you would know that vines attached to trees means swinging. Why else would there be perfectly good vines just hanging from the trees?

Swinging higher and faster and then doing running take offs.

If playing Tarzan and swinging through the forest on vines isn't happiness, I'm not sure what is.

Go visit Leigh vs Laundry for 52 Weeks of Happiness and post a picture of something that makes you happy!

Golden Weekend

2011-10-10T09:25:00.001-07:00

Fall in the Midwest is one of the most glorious things there is. It is an actual season, not just three flips of the calendar. And, just like I try to do with everything, I've been trying to enjoy every moment of the beautiful, sun-laden, golden fall days.

This last weekend, we headed to Galena, Illinois, with is a beautiful, little touristy town by the Mississippi River. It was a gorgeous (but unexpectedly crowded) weekend. (As it turns out, other people are all about taking advantage of sun-filled autumn weekends, too.) The golden light, the fall colors, and the old brick buildings all mixed to make the entire day feel gold and red.

We spent the early afternoon wandering the streets of Galena.

We watched a blacksmith work. We explored little shops. We found a fabulous candy shop, a store that sold only popcorn, and many beautiful restaurants.

After we had exhausted the boys' ability to window shop, we drove up to a resort. By this time, any childhood ability to enjoy "scenic views" was nearly over, so an exciting ride down the alpine slide was called for (Despite the fact that Bug kept shouting at me, "We're going too fast. Slow down!!" If we went any slower, I thought we may have been at a dead stop.)

The slower ride back up the hill in the lift provided amazing views.

The light was perfect, everyone was happy, we were all together and filled with Candy Legos. The weekend could not have been any better.

Things that Happened Over the Summer that I Didn't Write About

2011-10-06T07:59:00.000-07:00

This last summer got away from me. Honestly, I don't remember a summer ever going by that fast. Even though the days flew by, we still tried to take advantage of every moment.

What I didn't do was write about all those moments. So, while you may not be interested in what amounts to "what I did over my summer vacation" post, this is mostly for me. So that I can look back and remember.

This post takes us all the way back to the end of May/beginning of June. We had just spent a day visiting the bridges of Madison County for our 10th wedding anniversary. What I didn't write about was that after we had finished, we made our way to Omaha, Nebraska. Because nothing says 10 year anniversary like Omaha, Nebraska. The reason we went was because each year, we try to visit a different zoo. And this year, we wanted to go to the Omaha Henry Doorly Zoo. We had heard so many great things about it.

This zoo did not disappoint.

There was all the expected zoo sites: lizards, rhinos, giraffes, monkeys, birds.

But then there were the unexpected...

Rope bridges (which Monkey firmly refused to walk on.)

A butterfly house (right next to the bug house that left both boys nearly in tears because they were so scared of the giant spiders.)

The Desert Dome (The building was almost more impressive than the exhibits.)

Penguins (the boys could have spent the entire day just watching the penguins).

Sharks (seriously, a zoo with sharks! This place is great.)

The boys got up close to bears.

They talked to parrots.

They watched sea turtles swim.

How much fun did we have? Well, I think these pictures show just a little bit of how much we enjoyed it...

I know that I said we try to go to a different zoo every year. But we might make an exception and go to this one again.

Commute

2011-10-05T07:05:00.000-07:00

I have started riding my bike to work. Ever since we moved, I've been talking about it. We live three miles from the hospital, so I kept telling myself I would do it. Although, one would have to actually have a bike to ride it to work. But then, a year ago, I bought a bike. And then I still didn't ride it to work. I had a lot of excuses: I was running late, it might rain, I was tired, I just didn't want to...

Then a couple of months ago, I decided I just needed to do it.

And then I realized how out of shape I am. It was only three miles, but it absolutely killed me. By the time I got to work the first day, I was bright red, sweaty, and so out of breath I could barely walk into the hospital.

At that point, I realized that I absolutely needed to continue to ride my bike to work.

Normally, my door-to-door commute is about 20 minutes. I leave my house, arrive at the commuter lot in 8ish minutes, wait for the commuter shuttle, and then ride the commuter shuttle to the hospital. On my bike, my commute is now 17-20 minutes going to the hospital and 25 minutes coming home. Because there is a huge, steep hill on the way home, and I just can't make it all the way up it, and am forced to walk most of the way up.

My bike ride didn't start out that quick. That first ride, when I was so red and sweaty, took me 30 minutes. There is a small, but steep hill just before I get to the hospital, and the first week, I really struggled with it. I got passed by another cyclist who made the hill look easy, which made me feel a little bad. And then it happened...I got passed by a jogger. I wanted to jump of my bike, hide behind a tree and cry. But I didn't. I kept going. And my ride has decreased from 30 minutes to 17. My face isn't red when I get to the hospital anymore. And last week, I passed another cyclist.

I can think of so many reasons to keep this up. I add exercise into my day without really adding any more time. I don't use the gas in my car. I get to be outside. I really, really want to keep this up.

Unfortunately, the time is coming rapidly where my bike riding days are over. I have to leave at 5:30 am, and it is very, very, VERY dark at 5:30 am. Even with my headlight for my bike, it's just getting a little too dark for me. I get pretty anxious in the dark. Each morning, I keep expecting a crazy squirrel or raccoon to leap out of the bushes and attack me. Also, winter is coming. I'm definitely not hardcore enough to ride my bike in the winter.

My two wheeled commuting may be done for the year. But there is always next year, when the mornings are warm again and the sun rises a little earlier. And maybe next year, I will finally make it up that hill.

The Hand-Me-Down Child

2011-10-04T07:31:00.000-07:00

Dear Monkey,

Being the second child has its advantages.

You came into a home already filled with toys, books, stuffed animals, a playmate, and parents who weren't nearly as terrified by the whole process as they were the first time.

I didn't experiment with sleep training. I didn't experiment with discipline. I had learned from my mistakes with your older brother. I had found things that worked relatively well and was excited to implement them early and more efficiently the second go around. As a result, you slept better, you were scolded less and cuddled more.

Being second definitely has its perks.

But I'm not going to say it's perfect.

I wonder how you feel hardly ever having anything new. Most of your clothes, most of your toys, most of your books, are all on their second go around, many of them a little worse for wear. When I unpack the winter sweaters, before I put them on you, I stop and get sentimental about how your big brother had looked wearing them. You get to play with train tracks and Legos, because that's what we already have.

When you finally graduated from your hand-me-down tricycle, paint already chips, there was no new shiny big boy bike for you. It was putting the training wheels back on Big Brother's bike. And still, when you want to ride your bike, you ask if you can ride Bug's bike, despite being told that it is actually now your bike.

It appears that maternal guilt has no limit. There is no reason I should feel bad that you have to play with toys that already have bite marks, and make memories in outfits that are already filled with memories. You can learn to ride a bike just as well, regardless if the bike is bright shiny new or dusty and faded. There is nothing to feel bad about.

Other than the fact that I want everything for you. I want a bright shiny new world for you, if only because it feels that that is the best way for me to show you how much I love you. Even when I know that's not true.

I felt just as much love and pride when you rode that older bike as I did when your big brother rode it.

We aren't substituting, watering down, or trading out memories. We are making more.

Love,
Mom

Bug, Version 9.11

2011-09-29T17:24:00.000-07:00

Dear Bug,

I've wondered if I should write this at all.

Part of me wants to not write it. I want you to look back on your childhood and only remember the good. I want the rough patches and difficult moments to be overpowered by the joyful, sun-filled moments.

Part of me wants to write it. I want to accurately capture what you were like at this age. I want to capture our real life. I want to look back, remember how hard things were, and then laugh when we actually make it through all this. That part is winning out.

First, I want you to know that I love you. From the moment I saw two pinks lines on the pregnancy test to this moment now, I have loved you.

Things have been difficult. It feels that we are always butting heads on everything. It doesn't matter. I ask you to do your homework, you argue with me. I ask you to do your chores, you argue with me. I ask you to eat your dinner, you argue with me. I lay out clothes for school, you refuse to wear them. I ask about your day, you refuse to tell me. We try to go for our evening family walk, you refuse to come with us. You refuse to wear your glasses. You boss Monkey around.

Every single thing is a fight.

This was the amount of involvement you gave us during our trip to the apple orchard.

I honestly thought we wouldn't have to deal with things like this until you were a teenager. I don't know how to make this better. There are moments, whole days, that I just want to banish you to your room and scream at the top of my lungs. Those are the moments I bury my face in my hands and take a deep breath through my fingers. Over and over I say to myself, "I love this boy, I love this boy."

Because I do love you. I know that this is just a phase. I know that you are sweet, you are responsible, you are thoughtful. I have seen you be all these things. We will get through this. I will still do everything I can to make sure that the happy memories, the wonderful things we have as a family smooth out this rough patch until neither of us remember it.

Just remember, I love you. Even when I make you wear your glasses, eat your peas, and wear a coat to school.

Love,
Mom

Why I'm Not a Survivor

2011-09-22T18:17:00.000-07:00

The 23rd season of Survivor premiered last week.

What? You didn't notice? You haven't watched Survivor in 10 years? You're wondering who watches reality television anymore?

When Survivor first premiered in 2000, it was much like any other fad. I heard people talking about it everywhere, so I was determined to avoid it. This is how I usually am for anything popular (Harry Potter, LOST, Krispy Kreme...I avoid them for as long as I can. And then they get me in the end.)

And then, in 2001, I got pregnant with Bug. I had overwhelming morning sickness, all I was able to do was lie on couch, fight off the "wish I was dead" feeling, and watch television. During those long nine months, I started watching Survivor.

Ever since that time, I've been addicted. (And I might have a small crush on Jeff Probst.)

I love all things Survivor. The concept, the locations, the drama, the twists. However, despite my love of the show, there are many reasons I couldn't actual be a contestant.

1. I'm not a strong swimmer.
I can doggy paddle my way around a lake. In a pool, I may even get fancy and try out a few different strokes. When distance swimming or diving of any form are added, I'm hopeless. There is a lot of swimming on this show.

2. I'm too self-conscious about my body.
Watch Survivor for even a moment, and you realize that those people spend a lot of time either in swimsuits or their underwear. I don't like wearing skirts above my knee. Showing my belly...forget it.

3. I have a weak stomach.
I cleaned out the fridge in resident lounge at work. I came across a few forgotten Tupperware containers that had me leaning my head over the garbage can faster than anything. Someone starts making me eat weevil-filled rice or strange sea animals, and I would be sent home right away.

4. I have the upper body strength of a 6 month old infant.
'Nuff said.

5. I don't like confrontation.
I don't need to take another personality quiz to know that I'm an avoider. I will do extra work, put up with people I can't stand, anything to avoid confrontation. However....

6. I tend to take charge.
Despite my tendency to avoid confrontation, I do like to get things done. And if things need to get done, I will take over, boss people around, and get them done. And we all know what happens to people like...they get voted off the island.

7. I have a natural tendency to cry.
I am the girl that cries at Johnson&Johnson commercials. Anyone think I'm not going to cry when I'm cold, hungry, and haven't seen my family in days? Criers never make it on Survivor.

8. I'm a nerd.
There's always that contestant who just seems a little weird. That would most likely be me. I would get all excited about the birds and the view, or I would start talking about things no one else cares about (diving reflexes, for example.) Nerd don't win survivor.

9. I have never made a fire in my life.

10. I'm too nice.
Oh, I can gossip and scheme just as much as the next person. But to actually follow through on any of those ideas and risk hurting someone's feelings? I don't think I could do it. All the excuses about the game just being a game? I disagree. I think if you lie and back-stab and manipulate people during a game like this, you are probably willing to do that in real life, too. And I just couldn't do it.

Survivor may be my favorite show on television, but I'm obviously a horrible candidate. I will just have to continue to watch half-naked people in bright colored buffs compete for immunity from my couch.

Although I'm sure they're auditioning for the next season of Amazing Race.

Where Fairies Live

2011-09-20T12:40:00.000-07:00

I love raising boys. The dirt, the rough housing, the outdoorsiness. I love it all.

However, there are things I occasionally think would be so much fun about having a girl. Tea parties, princess dresses, doing hair.

When I first came across Fairy Houses, my first thought was, Oh, I kinda wish I had a little girl, so we could build these together. These charming, miniature dwellings made entirely from items found in nature appealed to both my inner little girl and my overly suppressed artistic side.

However, Bug and Monkey saw the pictures of fairy houses, and they couldn't wait to build one of our own. Who knew that boys would be as excited about fairy houses as girls would be?

We spent hours over the weekend, collecting material, picking out a spot, and then constructing the house. Both boys participated with unrestrained enthusiasm.

Bug was especially pleased.

When the wind blew our first attempt at a roof away, he built another (even better) one by himself.

Each day after school, the boys run to the backyard to check on their fairy house. They add to the path, find new decorations, and do minor repairs. They spend more time outside, away from the computer and television, completely unprompted.

Most of these outdoor sessions, despite the presence of a fairy house, end with Bug and Monkey chasing each other around the yard, sometimes with sticks, and trying to climb the fence into the neighbor's yard.

I love raising boys.

Go visit Leigh vs Laundry for 52 Weeks of Happiness and post a picture of something that makes you happy!

Over The Fridge Door

2011-09-19T18:00:00.000-07:00

It's 6 pm. Hubster and I have both just barely arrived home. The nanny has left. The boys are hungry.

Typically, this time of day results in Hubster and I staring at each other across the top of the refrigerator door, asking each other in near frantic whispers what we should have for dinner that night. There may or may not be actual food in the fridge. We've had conversations such as:

"Well, we have some baby carrots..."
"Oh, that's good. Children need vegetables. And if we serve it with cottage cheese, that's dairy and protein..."
"Yeah, and we'll throw in some fruit snacks. The box says they have vitamin C, which is good, because we wouldn't want the boys to get scurvy."

And that's when all parenting pride goes out the window, the moment I realize I've served my family baby carrots, fruit snacks, and cottage cheese for dinner. With a pack of Twizzlers I bought when I was on call.

In reality, this only happened once...ish.

For the most part, we make fairly healthy dinners. But dinner making was always so stressful. I never knew what to make. We'd end up eating the same things over and over. If we ever wanted to make anything different, we never had the ingredients around.

Last month, I had finally had enough of the pre-dinner stress. I decided to tackle one of my Project 52 goals and make a monthly menu.

I couldn't believe how hard it was. I was tempted to just have a three day cycle: spaghetti, tacos, pizza. But I fought against that temptation, printed out a blank month calender, and went to work.

At first, I was overwhelmed. How could I come up with enough meal ideas for 30 days? The easiest way for me to do this was to break it down in to categories: Monday would be for grilling (at least while the weather is still nice), Tuesdays would be for pasta, Wednesday would be for crockpot meals, etc. This made it so much easier. All I had to do was think of meals to fit each category.

I hunted recipe websites (this one and this one are my favorites). I went through my cookbooks and folder of saved recipes. And slowly, tediously, I came up with a menu for the month. (Although Bug insists that since I'm not giving him any options, that I shouldn't be allowed to call it a menu. More like just a plan.)

And that's what this is, really. Just a plan. It's still flexible enough that if I forgot to set out the crockpot, we just switch around the days. And if, come Friday, I'm too tired to even think about cooking, the plan is flexible enough to allow for a pizza night.

We don't eat a lot of meat, which is probably evident from our menu (er, plan). Foods like spaghetti, lasagna, and even tacos and burritos are usually made meat free. This meant that I haven't been able to take a lot of ideas from other meal planning sites, because wow, people eat a lot of meat.

I tried to arrange meals so that left overs from one day could be used for the next day's meal. The other thing I tried hard to do was to take into account what we would be able to buy at the farmer's market. I love being able to use locally grown, in season food as much as possible. Which means we are eating a lot of corn, zucchini, and tomatoes right now.

It had made shopping so much easier. Each Saturday, I look at the meals for the week ahead, scan through the recipes to make sure I have all the ingredients, and make our shopping list from there. This has nearly eliminated middle of the week grocery store runs.

It has also nearly eliminated Hubster and I staring at each other over the refrigerator door, wondering what's for dinner.

Celebrating Fall

2011-09-15T09:09:00.000-07:00

It is time to celebrate fall.

(I am convincing myself that I am celebrating fall, and not mourning summer. I have never struggled with this so much.)

And if one is to celebrate fall, one must pick apples.

There must be tractor rides and apple slushies.

There must be baskets and overgrown orchard rows.

There must be picking and sticky sweetness running down your hands.

There must be a chill in the air, but plenty of sunshine.

There must be 20 pounds of Honey Crisp apples.

There must be eating apples whenever one's five-year-old heart desires to.

The cool evenings must be spent turning those 20 pounds of apples into crisps, turnovers, and pies, and just eating them fresh, plain or with caramel.

Because if one is celebrating fall (and not mourning the end of summer), that is how it must be done.

Undergrowth

2011-09-13T13:54:00.000-07:00

Happiness is...

Finally accepting that summer is over and autumn is coming.

Happiness is remembering all the things that I love about the fall season. Why, at one time, it was my favorite season.

From the coolness of the morning, to hint of color in the trees, autumn is truly on her way.

Which means it is time for a hike through the woods looking at the undergrowth. (I know, we're a little weird.)

But autumn means that we can find this...

These beautiful Indian Pipe, or Ghost Plants are a favorite for our plant hunting strolls, only making their appearance for a short time during the early fall season

And the boys were also delighted to find these spots of color...

This little expedition into the undergrowth reminded me that fall is coming, I can't stop it, and there are still reasons to be happy.

Stop by Leigh vs Laundry for 52 weeks of Happiness and post something that makes you happy.

Crossed Off

2011-09-12T06:27:00.000-07:00

For a while, I thought that I would go through everything on my Project 52 list and give a full report of how things are going.

But then I remembered that I'm pretty tired (since I'm working night shifts right now), and the list is pretty long. So I've saving that for a grand finale in December (that's me making a commitment to posting in December, between holiday preparations and taking cardiac call. I'll just go ahead and make that Goal 53.)

Today, I'm focusing on successes, since last time I focused on goals I was struggling with.

These are the things that I have been able to cross off completely...

2. Complete 3 home improvement projects. We put in hand rails for the stairs (we only delayed that safety standard for, oh, two years.). We also installed new closet doors in the master bathroom, and repainted (most of) the storage shed. There are still several things that need to be done, but I'm calling this one crossed off!

4. Plan an awesome 10 year wedding anniversary celebration. When I said awesome, I totally meant Omaha, Nebraska (which I never blogged about). We did also do a day touring covered bridges in Madison County, and ate out at my favorite restaurant. And since that was our only 10 year anniversary, I have to call this done done.

6. Visit 3 new restaurants. Done!

7. Plan monthly menus. I can not even tell you how hard this was. It took me hours to make the menu for one month. I was exhausted by the end, and all I could think about was how I would have to do it again the next month. Now that the menu is done, it's been nice. No more staring at Hubster over the refrigerator door, wondering what on earth to feed the kids.

11. Go visit at least one new church. We've done this. I'm still looking for a church that feels, well, I'll know it when I feel it. I've been reading up about several churches I'm interested in checking out.

19. Register Monkey for kindergarten. Not only is he registered, he's act ually attend ing kindergarten. Insert many sniffles here.

20. Grow herbs. There were many different herbs planted, but only the basil made it. I'm suspicious that the birds may have eaten all my oregano and cilantro seeds. And I know that a chipmunk made a large hole where a rosemary plant should have been.

23. Go to the doctor and get my hand looked at. The initial evaluation has been done. I still have several more appointments to figure out exactly what is going on, but the hand has been looked at, so I'm crossing this one off, too.

24. Introduce my children to musicals. The children have been introduced. How successful the introduction was is yet to be determined. I'm planning for a Sound of Music night. I'm bribing them all with kettle corn.

25. Have a Harry Potter marathon. I had originally intended this to be a movie marathon, but there is absolutely no way I can stay awake during movies anymore, let alone a marathon of movies. However, I did reread the entire Harry Potter series in a very short time period. That will be my marathon.

27. Read 5 non-work related books. I have more than done this.

31. Try to go visit family in Utah. We didn't just try. We went!

32. Visit the farmer's market 5 times during the summer. I've become quite the groupie of the farmer's market. I'm starting running into people I know. I buy tomatoes from the same person each week. I've been more than five times, and there is still so much growing season left!

33. Inner tube down a river. Done!

34. Go skiing. Done again!

37. Go antique shopping. I'm not exactly sure it counts as antique shopping if I didn't actually buy anything. However, I did spend two afternoons with my mother-in-law wandering through antique stores, and she bought me something. So I think this one is off the list.

43. Get a rough draft of my research project. I think I may finally be to this point. This is a particularly painful one. Give me making monthly menus any day over doing this thing.

47. Calculate my monthly grocery budget. This is done. This one was surprisingly non-painful.

48. Start my blogging project for my boys. It's been started (here and here). There is no foreseeable end, thank goodness.

51. Volunteer for something at my kid's school. Done!

52. Get my hair done. I finally did this. I'm not exactly sure why I put off getting my hair cut for two years, but it really showed.

The grand total is 21/52 things that are completely crossed off my list. 21 things that I don't have to worry or think about again.

Sometimes, I think the best part of making lists is just to cross things off of them.

That Day

2011-09-11T10:23:00.000-07:00

My story from that day isn't really a story at all.

I had never been to New York. I had no reason to worry that anyone I knew or loved was on an airplane, in the tower, or in the Pentagon. I didn't lose a loved one.

I was thousands of miles away. There is no story at all, but it will still be one that I tell my children.

It was Tuesday. That morning, like every morning, Hubster and I, newlyweds, woke up together, had breakfast, and watched the morning news before heading off for our days. We turned the TV off and left our house at 6:30 am. Hubster left for work and I boarded the commuter train for school. I promptly curled up in my seat, preparing to nap on the nearly hour commute up to the university campus. About half way into the commute, I starting hearing people around me talking frantically. Phones started going off every where on the train. I specifically remember, through my sleepy haze, one man standing in the aisle, nearly yelling into his phone, "The first tower has come down!"

I had no idea what he was talking about, but the conversations all around started to contain the same phrases, "planes," "New York," "towers."

When I got of the train, I made my way to my organic chemistry discussion group, and started asking people what was going on. Didn't I know, people said. How did I not know what had happened? But I didn't. I had left my house 16 minutes before anything had happened. Slowly, I started to piece the story together. Our discussion leader never came to class. After 20 minutes, students started filing out. I made my way over to my calculus class. My calculus professor, who had gone to school at Columbia University, came into the lecture hall in tears. He leaned against the lecture podium, barely in control of himself, and announced that due to the events of the morning, there would be no lecture.

I wandered around campus, not sure what to do. I didn't have a cell phone. I had no way to contact anyone, to make sure people knew. Standing outside the student union, I saw my first footage of the attacks. At that point, I knew that I had to go home. I made my way back to the train and rode home, lost in thought.

When I got to my station, Hubster was waiting for me on the platform. He had been waiting for me for nearly a hour, sure that I would be coming home early. I wasn't expecting him to be there, but I wasn't surprised. We held each other for several moments there on the train platform as people rushed around us. We then drove home in shocked silence.

The next 24 hours were spent in front of the television. Hubster and I sat side by side, holding hands, barely speaking, as we took in image after horrible image.

In the days that followed, American flags starting showing up everywhere. I donated blood. We started talking about what this meant. We started hearing the stories. Stories of terror, stories of sacrifice, stories of heroism.

My story isn't one of those. But 10 years later, the events and emotions of that day are just as vivid as they were Tuesday, September 11, 2001.

Expectations

2011-09-08T07:59:00.000-07:00

I know that I'm supposed to just live my life the way that works best for me. That I shouldn't worry about what other people think. I should just do the things that make my family and me happy. I shouldn't give way to outside expectations.

But there are just so many expectations.

Exercise at least 30 minutes a day.
Work.
Find time for myself.
Sleep 8 hours a night.
Quality time with my spouse.
Quality time with my children.
Have meals together.
Blog.
Cook.
Clean.
Have a social life.
Study and read daily.

When is enough enough?

I wish I could separate out what are the things that I want for myself and what are the things that I just give into because of social pressure. Because there isn't enough time in the day for everything. However, I want all these things. I want to be good at my job, to be educated and well read. I want to be healthy, to exercise and eat right and to make healthy food for my family. I want family time with my boys and I want date night with Hubster. I want time for myself and time with my friends.

But when do you say that enough is enough? And how do you decide what to let go?

I went to a Women in Medicine panel as a very young undergraduate/new mom, and I heard a speaker say that as women, we can have everything, just not all at the same time. At the time, going to school full time while juggling the new demands of parenthood, I scoffed at this idea. I was going to have it all, all right now.

Now, years later and much more tired, I'm realizing the truth in those words.

I'm just not sure what I should let slide and what I should hold on to. How do I fill the expectations, not just of society, but of myself?

All My Attention

2011-09-07T06:13:00.000-07:00

Exhibit A: I'm cooking dinner. I'm chopping onions, stirring the soup, heating the oven for rolls. And every few moments, I call out a word. "Thoughtful." "Coincidence." "Understand." These aren't mantras. I'm doing spelling homework with Bug. With dinner preparations going on, I don't have time to visually check his spelling, so I have him spell the words back to me. I continue to wait for the soup for boil while I put away dishes, listening to "U-N-D..."

Exhibit B: I'm watching television. I'm a fan of cooking shows, but I don't have time to watch anything when it's actually on, so everything is on DVR. I can fast-forward commercials, so it means I can watch the show in less time (or more shows in the same time.) I have my computer on my lap, reading blogs, Facebook, CNN, and the weather while I watch my shows. Often I have to rewind the show to catch a key part.

Exhibit C: I'm at work. I watch the patient, chart numbers, prepare medications for when the patient is waking up, place orders for the patient for while they will be in recovery, watch the progress of the surgery, chart fluids. During a stable moment, I may skim over a journal article, check my e-mail, or log cases from last week.

All the evidence is there. I'm a multi-tasker. I have lived by the motto: if you aren't multi-tasking, you're doing something wrong. I prided myself in my multi-tasking abilities. I was used to doing two, three, four things at once. At being efficient with my time. Having the boys tell me about their day while I marched through the house, tidying up, sweeping, doing laundry. Listening to test prep material while I drove to school.

I was frustrated with people who didn't multi-task. People who didn't continue on a conversation while they worked. Hubster was always at the brunt of my frustration, since he rarely multi-tasks. When he does dinner, that's all he does. When he does spelling with Bug, he sits down at the table with him. When he talks to you, he stops doing what he is doing. It would drive me crazy!

Then, a while back, I was driving to work, listening to the radio, and I heard this.

Those few minutes listening to NPR changed my perception of what I was doing. I thought I had been so wonderful in my multi-tasking mantra. That I was an effective, efficient, organized person.

But all I was really doing was diluting out my attention. Nothing had my full attention. And it showed. Dinner was burnt more often than I would like to admit. I had to be prompted to give spelling words, and often didn't hear Bug spell them back to me. I was only half-absorbing what I read while watching TV and only half-absorbed what I was watching while I was reading. I hadn't been giving anyone all of my attention.

I would like to say that I am changed, that I have given up my multi-tasking ways. But I haven't. There isn't enough time in the day to do one task at a time. My job requires multi-tasking. And honestly, I'm still deluding myself that I'm really, really, good at this.

It's a work in progress. I burn dinner less often, since I've stopped reading textbooks while I cook. I sit down to do spelling with Bug.

At the end of the day, I pull Bug and Monkey into my lap and ask them about their day. I don't do laundry, I don't mop and tidy and sort mail. I do just one thing. I sit there and listen. I given them all my attention. And it's starting to show.

Celebrate Like You're 5

2011-08-29T16:16:00.000-07:00

That's exactly what we did yesterday.

Despite the fact that I was exhausted after a grueling 24 hour shift at work and that I was sick and feverish with a cold/flu, despite the fact that the work schedule precluded having a "friend party," I was determined that Monkey was going to have an awesome 5th birthday.

We went swimming.

We listened to this, and danced around crazily and wildly in the kitchen.

We decorated.

We had "guests."

We ate Angry Birds pig cake.

We sang "Happy Birthday."

We had mounds of presents (okay, not really mounds, but apparently that's how it felt to the newly five year old.)

We had laughter, sugar, fun, and silliness. We had a birthday!

Monkey

2011-08-28T18:59:00.000-07:00

Dear Monkey,

Today you are five. That makes five years that you have been melting my heart. I love you, dear little Monkey.

I love your silliness. It reminds me that every family needs a little silliness.

I love your blue eyes, which have a shade all their own, different than anyone in the family.

I love your curly toes, the ones that caused us to count and then recount when you were born, making sure that yes, there were indeed 10 toes.

I love your smile.

I love your perfect Cupid bow mouth, still so young now that you are oh, so big.

I love how you are outgoing and silly and loud one moment, and then the next moment, quiet and shy. It reminds me that you are still growing, still developing your personality.

I love your straight hair. It reminds me of your daddy.

I love your thoughtfulness, your willingness to help without even being asked. It reminds me to continue to nurture these wonderful traits.

I love your resilience. You went to the first day of kindergarten, with a new nanny at home, without a single whimper. You are brave and uncomplaining. It reminds me that I should be that way, too.

I love you, sweet five year old boy.

I love you because you are mine.

Happy Birthday, Monkey.

Love,
Mommy

A Day at the Fair

2011-08-25T16:52:00.000-07:00

The end of summer wouldn't be complete without a day at the Iowa State Fair.

We actually thought about not going this year, because there was so much going on. My mother-in-law visiting, a camping trip, school starting for the boys and for Hubster. We were feeling a little overwhelmed by our schedules, and the two hour drive to the Fair just added to the overwhelmed feeling. But the boys got wind of the fair (seriously, we can't keep anything secret from them) and it was all over. You can only say no to children jumping up at down, screaming happily, "We want to go to the Fair! We want to go to the Fair!"

I'm glad we went.

The first part of the day is traditionally spent looking at animals. I did my traditional, "It's so cute and fluffy, I could die!" and insisting that we needed everything from a pet duck, to a pet bunny, to a pet miniature donkey.

And who doesn't want a pet baby ostrich?

After the animals, it's time for food. Deep fried and on a stick.

Lemonade shake-ups, deep fried cheese curds, funnel cakes, and corn dogs. Because, let's get real, the Fair is not about healthy eating. My favorite quote all day came from Bug, when we asked him if he wanted a hot dog or a corn dog. His response, "Well, does a hot dog come on a stick? Noooo." Okay, food on a stick it is.

This year, the Iowa State Fair made national news by offering deep fried butter.

I wanted no part of this. I watched several people eating it, and despite them saying it tasting like Cinnabon (which I do love), I still wanted nothing to do with it. The squirt of melted butter when they took a bit made me gag a little.

However, I did find myself in the 30 minute long line for the fried butter booth. But not for fried butter. For this delicious treat...

Deep fried pineapple. A large pineapple slice dipped in funnel cake batter and fried. This was delicious, juicy, and sweet. Well worth dealing with all the crazy fried butter people.

After food comes everything else...

The Giant Slide!

The Butter Cow!

Giant pumpkins!

I would need many more exclamation points to share how excited the boys were about everything single thing. Their excitement would make one believe that this wasn't the third year of seeing nearly the exact same things.

But the repetition doesn't seem to matter. It is all about a day spent as a family. A day where our wallets are lighter and our stomachs heavier. A day at the Fair.

Backyard Games

2011-08-23T16:04:00.000-07:00

Even though summer is just barely hanging on, there are still warm afternoons for walks through the neighborhood, spraying each other with the hose, and playing backyard games.

This has become pretty much our favorite backyard game. And since we made the boards ourselves, we're pretty proud of it.

It's impressive how competitive a little bean bag game can get. Especially when the 9 year old always wins.

Go visit Leigh vs Laundry for 52 Weeks of Happiness and post a photo of something that makes you happy.

Yet Another Beginning

2011-08-22T20:02:00.001-07:00

Today was the day I've been secretly dreading for the last two years.

Today Hubster started dental school.

And yes, I'll finally admit it. I've been dreading it. I look at his class schedules, his exam schedules, the study schedules, and I have to fight back the panic that flows up into my throat like vomit.

Don't misunderstand me. I'm so proud of Hubster. He has worked so hard. Getting accepted to dental school, especially this one, especially when this was the only one he applied to - this is all huge and wonderful and the fulfillment of so much planning, hard work, and sacrifice. It's been a hard road.

But in comparison, that was the easy part.

The next part is so much more difficult. The planning, hard work, and sacrifice are only just beginning.

Honestly, I've gotten used to our lives over the last two years. I've gotten used to having Hubster be home when I get home from work. I've gotten used to knowing that the boys are with their dad, and not at another babysitter or daycare. I've gotten used to the laundry, cleaning, and cooking actually getting done. While I wouldn't go as far as to call the last two years easy, I would say they have been relatively less stressful than many of the years that preceded.

Now we are back to complicated schedules. We are back to childcare, although this is way better than anything we had before. We are back to late night studying and cramming for exams. We are back to busy and we are back to stressful.

I don't resent Hubster. I'm not angry about this. Like I said before, I'm proud. I'm also incredibly grateful that I get the chance to support him on his dream and his journey, and I only hope I can do as good a job as he did supporting me.

But I'm also scared.

This is yet another beginning in so many changes we are going through right now.

Hubster and I tell each other on a regular basis, whether it be daycare dilemmas, car problems, or dental school, we say, "we'll be okay and we'll get through this." That's what I have to remember right now: We are okay, and we always get through everything.

When Does This Get Easy?

2011-08-18T07:24:00.000-07:00

Today is the first day of school.

Last year, I missed the first day of school for the first time. I was working, so I wasn't there as Bug went off to third grade.

This year, I almost missed the first day of school again. Just the thought of not being there to see Bug and Monkey off to school would drive me to tears. Especially for Monkey, just starting kindergarten. The original plan was to have him at the before school program and then picked up by the nanny after school. Just the idea that no parent would be with him to see him into his classroom for the first time was almost unbearable. But, due to the fact that on my call night I spent several hours in the middle of the night at the hospital, I got today off! So, despite my complete sleep deprivation, I walked with both my boys through a slight drizzle of rain to see them off to school.

This year, amazingly enough, it's fourth grade for Bug. Just saying that out loud gives me a little panic feeling. How did he get to fourth grade already. It was just moments ago we were starting this whole school thing for the first time. I had thought that this year would be a little easier, since this will be his third year at this school.

However, for Bug, today held new anxieties. We've been telling him that he really needs to wear his glasses, but the fear and anxiety this causes almost made it impossible to get him out the door this morning. Once we compromised and decided he could have them in his backpack and use them during class, he instantly perked up and positively flew through preparations this morning.

The biggest change is that Monkey is now in kindergarten. This should be it, right? The moment where he is no longer a "baby" but an official "big kid." Well, it sure doesn't feel like it. Despite the fact he walked relatively confidently into his classroom, found his backpack hook and desk by himself, and sat quietly reading books, I couldn't quite see the big kid. All I could see was my baby, surrounded by other big kids.

There were no tears this morning. Chocolate chip pancakes and new shoes added excitement. Classrooms were found easily. Hugs were given. And at the ringing of the school bell, I resisted the urge to sneak back into Monkey's class to see how he was doing.

Did I say there were no tears this morning? I meant was there were no tears from the boys.

Tubing

2011-08-16T17:48:00.000-07:00

Is there anything that says summer more than two little boys floating down a river on an inner tube?

I didn't think so.

As we start seeing the end of summer, I'm going to carry with me this lazy afternoon, spent inner-tubing down a crystal clear, sandy bottomed creek.

That's all the happiness I need right now.

Visit Leigh vs Laundry for 52 weeks of Happiness and post a picture of something that makes you deliriously happy.

The Nanny

2011-08-15T20:22:00.000-07:00

I realized that I did something very unfair. I talked about our childcare crisis, but then never did a follow up.

I am happy to let you know that we have a nanny!

I was so worried about how many people to interview. After your great advice, I decided that I would interview practically anyone who applied. As it happened, after eliminating people who had schedule conflicts, or who never sent me resumes or references, we ended up doing 5 interviews.

And I have to tell you, I'm very glad that we did. As it turns out, two of the applicants had scheduling conflicts they didn't let me know about. In the ad I placed, I was very clear about the hours we needed: Monday through Friday, after school to 5:30 pm. The ad was in a university job site, so I knew that all the applicants would be college students, and that they would have classes. But I imagined that a person would only apply for a job if they could work the hours indicated. One girl stated that she had classes on two of the days, so had I considered actually hiring two different nannies. Another girl said that she has a class that would run late on one day, but not to worry, she would get one of her sorority sisters to be there with our children.

What....?! Who thinks that is would ever be okay?

One applicant's personality just didn't mesh well with our family.

So that left us two real applicants.

Although, to be honest, I knew that we had found our perfect nanny on interview three. She was bubbly, enthusiastic, a little bit of nerd (which is perfect for our science majoring family), had fabulous references. I wanted to hire her on the spot. But I didn't. We still had two interviews to do, and I didn't think it was fair to continue to interview people when we had already filled the job. She then mentioned at the end of the interview that she was interviewing with several other families. I was sure that some other family would grab her right up.

All during the following interviews, even the last interview, which was with a great graduate student, all I could do was compare them to my "perfect nanny." So, immediately following the last interview, I sent a e-mail to her to offer her the position. Which she accepted almost immediately, stating we were her favorite family she had interviewed with.

We've met with her again since then. And I am confident in our decision.

I wasn't sure how I felt about the boys having a nanny. I had wanted them to be with other kids. But there are so many things going on right now. They are starting school. Monkey is going full time for the first time. Hubster is starting dental school. I think this option provides the boys with the most stability. They get to be home. They will have someone dedicated to watching them. They won't be in a large class with a 10 to 1 or 20 to 1 ratio with the teacher. This is a good thing for our boys.

And the nanny is the right one for our family.

The Last Nine Days

2011-08-14T18:53:00.000-07:00

I've enjoyed a truly glorious 9 days of vacation. 9 days away from the hospital. 9 days without a pager, a call room, an operating room, or a stethoscope. While there were not any exotic locations or lounging on beautiful beaches, the last 9 days have felt nearly as luxurious as any location I could imagine. Okay, that might be overdoing it just a little. Costa Rica or Italy still sound divine.

My mother-in-law came to visit us over my vacation. It was her first time to Iowa, or the Midwest for the matter. This visit was the first time we've had the chance to spend some real time with her since we moved here over two years ago. This visit also provided us the perfect opportunity to tour the local surroundings, sharing with her the things we love so much about Iowa.

These are my three favorite things in Iowa...

So instead of foreign or tropical destinations, my vacation consisted solely of places within 2 hours driving distance.

Instead of views of palm trees or European cities, my vacation consisted of views such as these...

I participated in fabulous activities, such as these...

It's been a wonderful, relaxing 9 days. You would think that I'm all ready to go back to work now, wouldn't you?

Well, you'd be wrong.

All these 9 days have done is make me long for my next vacation. Which occurs sometime in March. Hopefully, the past 9 glorious, sun-filled, overly food filled days have enough memories to last until then.

The Sound of Summer

2011-08-09T20:12:00.000-07:00

My first summer in the Midwest introduced me to many new things: humidity, fireflies, tornado warnings, and rolling thunderstorms.

But nothing was prominent and initially disconcerting as the cicadas. My first impression was that of just sheer noise. But now, three summers here in America's heartland, the cicada song has become more than just a pulsing screech.

The cicada song has become the sound of summer.

There may be fireflies. There may be sunlight until after 9 pm. But it is not fully summer until the first evening walk where I hear the cicadas. The cicadas only sing when it is truly hot, when it is truly summer.

Each evening I sit on my porch and hear the loud, rhythmic chorus from the treetops, I am reassured that it is still summer.

There will be an evening, not so far from now, that I will be sitting outside, and the evening will be quiet. At that still, quiet moment, I will realize that another summer is over.

I'm not ready for that.

So each evening, whether walking around the neighborhood with my boys or camping out over the weekend, I take comfort in the noise that summer is still here.

Nostalgia

2011-07-30T04:01:00.000-07:00

When was the last time you put on your bathing suit and ran through the sprinkler in your back yard?

During this last week, with heat indexes soaring between 100-110s, that is exactly what we did.

All of us: Bug, Monkey, Hubster, and, yes, even me. We all dressed in our swim suits, and than ran, squealing and laughing through the icy cold sprays of the sprinkler. We didn't care what the neighbors thought. We didn't care how old we were supposed to be.

Afterward, we laid on our beach towels on the deck and dried off, our feet covered in dried grass clippings, laughing and eating popsicles.

This is how I remember summer as a child.

The Guinea Pig Child

2011-07-27T17:57:00.000-07:00

Dear Bug,

As much as I would like to deny it, when you were born, your dad and I had absolutely no idea what we were doing.

We understood the basics. We knew how to change a diaper, rewarm a bottle, sanitize a pacifier, swaddle you. I had several lullabies memorized. We knew how to take care of you. But as far as actually raising you, we had no idea.

And as much as I would like to deny it now, we still don't.

I once read that parenting is a job done by those least qualified to do it. I disagree. I don't think our inexperience makes us unqualified to be your parents. After all, we came into this job with pretty valuable assets. We had patience (most of the time), a (seemingly) endless capacity for sleep deprivation, and love. Because, wow, we love you. We loved you then when we were inexperienced parents with a newborn. We loved you when we were inexperienced parents with a toddler. We loved you when we were inexperienced parents with the terrible twos and threes. And we love you now that we are the inexperienced parents of a 9 year old.

I'll admit it. Sometimes, all the love in the world doesn't make the fact that we still have no idea what we are doing any easier. Every first for you is a first for us too.

We've learned how to navigate childhood and parenthood right along with you. I wish I could say that you weren't the guinea pig child, but you are. You were the one that I tried different methods of sleep training. You were the one that I realized I had failed nearly all of them, as I woke up when you were four years old to realize that you still didn't sleep through the night, and you still slept in our bed most nights. You were the one that I tried many different forms of discipline. You were the one that make me realize that I wasn't comfortable with spanking, that reasoning doesn't work with a two year old (no matter how well they speak), and time out doesn't always work.

You were the one that took all my lofty ideas I had read in books, shredded them, and made me pay attention to you. Just you. You are the one that make me realize that this parenting thing is not a one size fits all type of suit.

Please continue to be patient with us. Because as we deal with self-consciousness over glasses, struggles with friends at school, and media exposure, we have to figure this out as we go. If it feels like we don't have all the answers, it's because we don't. We are still trying to find the right way to deal with things, the right way to help and guide you through these years.

I think you are doing just fine. Despite us.

Love,
Mom

What We've Been Up To

2011-07-25T18:09:00.000-07:00

Summer is fully upon us.

Even as work continually threatens to eat my schedule alive, we try to fill each day with delight, fun, and memories.

There have been bike rides.

There has been camping (and being rained on while camping.)

There have been s'mores to be made and eaten.

There have been nanny interviews.

There has been evening walks through the neighborhood.

There has been basketball to be played.

There has been so much, and I feel like I've been able to capture so little.

So pretty much, it's business as usually here at my house.

Flashback Fridays: Slipping Away

2011-07-15T08:14:00.000-07:00

In many ways, I feel like this is my last real summer. After this, Hubster starts dental school. We will have even more schedules to juggle. Life will continue to become more complicated. I've been trying to take advantage of every moment, but the beautiful, hot, humid days just keep slipping away.

So, as part of Karen's Flashback Friday, I am reposting my favorite post about summer. I still feel this way, each and every day, as autumn approaches...

The days until the start of school tick down. The evening comes sooner and dusk is shorter. Sun no longer pours through my bedroom window at 6 am. There are yellow leaves in the backyard, just a few, hiding away between the crowd of green, but they are there, just the same.

I can feel it.

The end of summer.

The days are still warm. The mosquitoes are still plentiful. The corn is still tall and rippling in the endless fields as we drive to the lake.

But it is still there.

The end of summer.

Summer ending makes me sad in a way nothing else really does. It is not the heartbreak of losing someone dear. It is not the twinge of sadness I get when I watch Finding Neverland. It is not the nearly crushing sadness that overcomes me when I'm sorting through boxes and find a picture of Bug or Monkey when they were just weeks, months old and I wonder where the time has gone and what did I do with it and how, why did I waste a second of it.

Summer ending is a diluted emotion compared to many of these. But real regardless. I feel some of the same ache that I wasted any of the sun laden days. That I will soon say good-bye to the hum of the evening insects, the rustle of the leaves, the glow of the fireflies, and the soft hush and ripple of the corn.

The season, that like so much of my life, I take for granted until it is gone.

I love fall with all the dynamics fall offers, everyday different. I can't help but smile when the first layer of quiet silver snow finally obscures the starkness of empty branches and bare ground. And I enjoy the energy and growth that each spring gives.

But summer...summer is my dearest friend.

Relaxed. Mellow. Good for me. Reassuring me that if I don't get to it today, it's okay, because it will still be there tomorrow. Tomorrow will still be warm, sunny, and happy.

But gradually, daily, I can feel it slipping away. My mind immediately jumps to fall, winter, spring. And now, even now, with the thick humid air still around me, I'm already looking forward to next summer.

Originally posted August 3, 2009

The Daycare Dilemma

2011-07-10T09:17:00.000-07:00

Our Childcare Crisis.
The Nanny Nightmare.
The Babysitting...I don't have anymore alliterations.

For the last two years, Hubster has stayed home with our boys. It has been absolutely wonderful. They had spent more of their lives up to that point in daycare after daycare. So to have them be able to be home, with someone who loved them, was a dream come true. Not to mention how much money we were saving.

With Hubster starting dental school next month, our current arrangement was obviously not going to work. Our original plan was to have the boys in the before-and-after school program at their elementary school. We signed up on the waiting list over a year ago, and then did just that...waited.

As spring came around, and we still had not heard if the boys were in the program, we started getting antsy. There were meetings, phone calls, and e-mails, in which we were always given the same reassurance. We were 8th on the waiting list. Last year, there had been 20 children on the waiting list, and they had all gotten in. They were confident we would get in.

You know where this is going, right?

We got an e-mail the first week of June saying the boys had a spot in the before school program, but not the after school program. So now, with just 2 1/2 months before Hubster starts dental school, we had no childcare plans.

We instantly started calling every single daycare in the area. Since Hubster and I would have to be at work/class in the afternoon, we needed a daycare that would be able to pick the boys up after school. After calling nearly 20 daycares, we were still empty-handed. There were plenty of daycares that had spots for both boys, but not a single one that would pick them up after school. Apparently, our sons' elementary school is just too far out of the way.

I contacted the local university for the list of occasional childcare providers, which are university students who are able to babysit after their classes. I sent out a dozen e-mails and got a dozen negative responses.

At this point, pure panic set in.

That's when I decided to do something we had never done before. I placed an ad in the university job website for a nanny.

The response has been amazing.

And this is where I need your help!

I've never hired a nanny before. I know what I want from one. I want them to be nice, and clean, and reliable, and friendly, and to play with my kids, and help them with their homework. But what do I ask? Are there questions that I should be sure to ask, and questions that I shouldn't ask? If you've ever hired a nanny before, what things did you wish you had known? What things should I look for? How should I organize the interview? I've already reviewed their resumes, and call all their references (all of which gave glowing reviews of each individual.)

And here is the other thing. Currently, we have four people lined up for interviews. Hubster thinks this is too many. It means that we will have to tell three people no. I have several more e-mails from people that would like to interview. Do I just tell them no, that we have enough candidates? Or do I just keep interviewing, with the fear that the one person I end up not interviewing would have been "the one?" This is worse that dating, I tell you!

I'm nervous, but I'm excited. I think this will end up being the best thing for our family. It will be a single individual watching our boys. They will get to be home, instead of at an unfamiliar setting. It will end up being more expensive, but since we're using Hubster's student loans to pay for it, what's an extra $10,000 of student loans at this point?

Our first nanny interview is this Thursday. Wish me luck!

Flashback Friday: Speeding Up

2011-07-08T17:10:00.000-07:00

All summer, Karen, at A Peek at Karen's World, is using Friday as a day to share some older posts. I love this idea, since I have posts that I wrote before I had a single follower, and since this summer is crazy busy I barely have time to write. Seriously, I always think I'm so busy there is no time for anything, and then I get even busier. I'm not sure how my life is even being held together, since it feels like it defies all laws of physics and the space-time continuum. But speaking of time, here is a Flashback Friday from a post that I just loved, and still feel this way, even all these years later.

I'm not sure exactly when I noticed it.

I think it was late in my senior year of high school.

Before then, life, despite its ups, downs, highlights, and disappointments, had moved in a normal pace. School. Home. Summer. Winter. The rhythm was the same.

But now, I was on the brink of the rest of my life. All the major events of my life were about to start taking place. The ones your parents start planning for the day you are born. I was going to graduate high school. I was going to move into my own apartment. I was going to start college. I had met the man I was going to marry.

I was 17.

And at that point, time sped up. No just figuratively. I could actually feel time moving faster. And was still accelerating past me.

I recently read that as we age, one year becomes statistically shorter. When you are 2 years old, one year is one half of your life. When you are 50, one year is 1/50 of your life.

I wasn't aware of the math then, but never the less, I could feel it.

I still feel it every day.

I blinked, and college was over. I went to sleep, and medical school was over. I turned around, and my children are taller.

Some days still trudge by, measured out by pager beeps and sibling squabbles.

But most days, I feel things slipping past me, sand between my fingers.

And there are days I hate time for stealing my children's youth when my back is turned. They were infants, then toddlers, and now children. And my heart aches to think they will be teenagers, adults, and leave.

The strangest part of all of this is that I feel stationary, stuck in the same place as when this began. I feel 17 while the times of my life speed past me.

Originally posted January 2, 2009

Kitchen Window

2011-07-05T15:44:00.001-07:00

Happiness is...

The view from my kitchen window.

Not that watching my boys playing tag makes me like doing dishes any more, but it sure improves my mood while I do them.

Visit Leigh vs Laundry for 52 Weeks of Happiness and post a photo of something that makes you happy.

The Fourth

2011-07-04T18:21:00.000-07:00

Our Fourth of July has been filled with all the things the holiday should have.

Parade routes lined with camping chairs that are continuously inched back into the shade.

Sparklers.

Homemade caramel swirl ice cream with peach cobbler.

These two characters.

I hope you all had a wonderful holiday. Happy Independence Day!

Nine

2011-06-28T19:24:00.000-07:00

And now you are nine...

It was a quiet day of celebration. No streamers, no balloons, no sleep-overs, no friends. There were your favorite foods all day. There was a movie in the afternoon. There was homemade ice cream in the afternoon. There was just the four of us. And I think that's what you wanted.

You grinned all day, knowing that you were older.

Overnight, you became taller. Smarter. Faster. Older. There were big, nine-year-old shoes to fill, and fill them you did.

How it that the things that make children the happiest make parents the most anxious. I'm not quite ready for you to grow up this quickly. But watching you zip around on your new (bigger) bike, watching you read more advanced books, watching you become more responsible, I realize that you are filling this new, little bit older role just fine.

Ready or not, now you are nine.

What It Says About Me: Refrigerator

2011-06-24T14:13:00.000-07:00

While my bedside table may say that I'm organized and love pretty things and reading, my refrigerator tells a completely different story.

Take one look at my fridge, and the busyness that is our lives becomes apparent.

It probably looks like a thousand other busy family refrigerator doors. There is the expected child art work and a multitude of magnets.

But there is also a little bit more.

Chore charts for the boys: because it's important they learn responsibility and helping out.
Our Christmas card: because the boys' pictures were just too cute.
Birth announcement of a friends baby: The baby is nearly 4 months old now.
Shopping list: There are just too many things to keep track of otherwise.
Two of Bug's tests: He got 100%, and he should be honored.
Monkey's preschool graduation certificate: because he is so proud.
Homemade Father's Day card: The boys made it by themselves.
Leap Frog Alphabet Magnets: Best educational toy of all time!
Art work: All the "featured" artwork is Monkey's. He puts it up himself, and don't anyone dare go taking it down!
A post it note with my favorite recipe: I'll have to share this sometime.
Bits of paper behind souvenir magnets: Contain phone numbers for babysitters and doctors, appointment reminders, and random notes to myself.

Yes, it's a bit of a mess. Occasionally, I go through and thin the artwork, remove the old wedding and graduation invitations. I'll organize the magnets. But odds are that it will look exactly like this within 2 days.

We are a family with two creative, busy boys, and this is our refrigerator.

What does your refrigerator say about you?

Grass Stains

2011-06-21T11:26:00.000-07:00

Happiness is...

Playing baseball in the backyard and being able to think more about having fun than about the clothes.

Oh, the iconic symbol of summer boyhood.

Visit Leigh at Leigh vs. Laundry for 52 Weeks of Happiness and post a photo of something that makes you happy!

Halfway Point

2011-06-20T12:46:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since I've updated my progress on Project 52. But with June flying by even faster than the previous months have, and realizing that the year will be over before I realize, I think an update is in order.

There are things on my list that intimidate me. There are things on my list that seems like no big deal when I first thought of them. There are things on my list that I'm just not sure how to accomplish.

I actually started looking at my list and realized that one third of my goals are things that it's starting to look like just might not happen. Some of them require money, which is always just a little short around here. Some require a schedule, and with my unpredictable hours, I haven't figured out how to do this. Most just require free time, which is my most precious commodity and has been spent running around the backyard, being chased by squirt guns.

Here are the things that have me worried:

3. Get my passport. Who knew a passport could be so expensive? And since I don't have any passport requiring trips planned in my near future, it's hard to justify the cost.

10. Paint at least once. This one shouldn't be so hard. But it requires the thought to actually occur to me. It's been such a long time since I've painted anything that pulling out a canvas and actually creating something does not come up on the radar of how to spend an afternoon.

14. Find 3 ways to be green. This one has me stumped. We do our best to be green. We fanatically recycle. We use reusable shopping bags. We eat local as much as we can (afford.) That would be three things right there. But we've been doing those things for a long time. The idea of this goal was to find three new things. Any ideas? Well, any ideas that don't break the bank and require the installation of solar panels, the purchase of an electric car, or raising all my food myself?

15. Use my crock pot once a month. I'm struggling with this one this year. Last year wasn't so bad. This year? I've taken the crock pot out twice. It requires advance planning, which I practically never do for meals. I just need to do it, and stop making excuses.

16. Catch up on my book reviews. This just requires time and inspiration. Hopefully, I'll get to it. Although lately, I've read quite a few books that I just don't feel like reviewing.

23. Go to the doctor and get my hand looked at. This started out being easy. I made an appointment, I got my hand looked at. And then they wanted me to see physical therapy. They wanted me to see rheumatology. They wanted me to make several follow up appointments. I'm not sure this is going to happen.

26. Donate blood. I just need to find the time.

28. Work on my kids' baby books at least once. My poor kids. Monkey's baby book doesn't even have the plastic wrapping removed from it.

30. Start looking at jobs. This one just intimidates me. I think about it, and I get all sweaty with the thought of rejection and failure and what if no one wants to work with me, and what if I'm not competent enough to get a job. Hopefully this fall/winter, I'll be able to get over all that and start this process.

35. Take my children to 3 different museums. I'm still looking for two more museums that are in reasonable driving distance.

38. Schedule date night with Hubster at least once a month. This one always feels like my biggest failure. I know so many people that have date night once a week, and Hubster and I can't manage once a month. We've gone on two, maybe three dates this year. We had all these plans to do date night at home. So far, that has consisted of me mentioning it, and then promptly falling asleep on the couch. I really need to look at this and figure out how to make this happen. Once again, any ideas?

39. Get a better sleep schedule. Ha, ha. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

40. Scan my wedding pictures into my computer. I should have just planned better and gotten married in the time of digital photos. Or time travel back with a digital camera. That serious might be just as easy.

41. Take a multivitamin daily. I realize now that any daily goal is a huge mistake.

42. Look into getting a pet with fur. This is not going to happen. No matter how much fun I think it would be to have a kitten or a puppy, I need to be realistic. We have two boys. And a fish.

49. Get our home videos transferred to DVD. What we should have done is bought a digital video camera all those years ago.

50. Organize my children's boxes of art work. I've transferred it from one box to a different box. But it just doesn't quite feel like it should count.

52. Get my hair done. Right now, I'd settle for brushing my hair. That would be a step in the right direction.

*****

These aren't impossible things. They are all reasonable, manageable goals. It's not like I resolved to visit three different countries and speak for a national charity. These should be things I can accomplish by the time December is finishing up.

I just need to refocus, reorganize, and recommit.

And figure out the whole time travel thing.

Clearly

2011-06-17T14:15:00.000-07:00

I've just gone through a huge parental failure.

Over the last, oh I don't know, several months? year? Whatever it was, it was too long. I've spent time being frustrated with Bug. We'd be bird watching, and all of us could clearly see the Baltimore oriole in the tree by the river, or the yellowthroat on top of the bush. Or we'd be on a bike ride, and see deer under the tree or a fox slinking under a fence. All of us could see it, except Bug. He would just keep saying "Where, where?" and then we'd all get frustrated, Bug because he thought we were doing a poor job of pointing to whatever we were looking at, and us because it felt like Bug just wasn't paying any attention.

And then Bug brings home a note from school that he failed his vision screening.

We quickly got an appointment with an ophthalmologist, and yes, my little Bug is significantly near sighted. It should have been obvious that the poor kid just couldn't see. Huge parental failure.

Bug, on the other hand, has been in complete denial. He keeps trying to convince us that he can see just fine. He doesn't need glasses. He likes things the way they are, thank you very much.

We spent a long time talking about how things are going to be fine. He's going to be even better at bird watching, and movies will be even more fun now that he can actually see them. He'll do better at school. And besides, all the really smart kids have glasses. And I wear glasses, so it won't be the same as when I was 12 and found out that I needed glasses . I was the only one in my family that needed them, and the teasing from my siblings was terrible.

The day after Bug's eye appointment, we took him to the optical store. There, we spent quite some time as he tried on pair after pair. He finally decided on a pair of Nike brand glasses in red, his favorite color. The next day they were ready.

I think he looks absolutely darling.

He, on the other hand, is still less than thrilled. While he admits that it's pretty cool to see things far away (he never realized he couldn't) he still would prefer to go without.

For our first outing with his new glasses, we took him to the Raptor Center to sit in the bird blind so that he could do some high quality bird watching with his new 20/20 vision. The entire time, he walked with his hands over his face so no one would see his glasses. He took them off as soon as we got in the car. Getting him to wear them at home is a struggle.

I'm hoping he gets used to them, that he starts wanting to see clearly. I've started wearing my glasses more often, to let him know that they are not a bad thing. I keep telling him how great they look on him, how much more grown up and smart he looks.

And when all else fails, I'll start with the bribery.

Counting the Storms

2011-06-15T06:57:00.000-07:00

A few nights ago, a huge storm rolled through our area. Lightening continually lit up the sky, thunder constantly rumbled, and the windows and roof echoed from the heavy rain. Heavy thunderstorms are an iconic part of Iowa summer. And I love them.

When I was a small girl, my parents would wake us up in the middle of the night (or at least what felt like the middle of the night to me, but was in reality more like 10 pm) when thunderstorms would come through. They would have a bowl of popcorn and blankets by the window ready. We would eat popcorn while my parents taught up how to count, 1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi, to see how far away the storm was.

Now, when thunderstorms arrive, I get that same comfortable feeling of being next to my parents, wrapped in blankets and counting the time between flash and boom.

As it turns out, my boys don't share these feelings.

As the storm grew into the night, Bug and Monkey grew more anxious. They started whimpering as bedtime approached, fearful of the thought of going to bed as lightening continued to flash and thunder continued to growl. Bedtime came and then went without us being able to calm their fears. Despite the repetition that they were safe and storms were exciting and fun, the anxiety continued.

I then realized that they didn't have the same context as I did.

So I gave up on bedtime. I popped a large bowl of popcorn, wrapped my pajama-ed boys in thick blankets and sat one on each side of me in front of our living room window. The sky was bright with the constant flash of lightening. The windows and house shook from thunder. I showed the boys how to count, 1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi, gauging the distance of the storm. We ate warm buttered popcorn as we exclaimed over the pattern of bright, branching lightening bolts.

By the time the popcorn was gone, and the time from flash to boom had increased to 5 Mississippi, the boys were sleepy and calmer. We carried them upstairs and tucked them in bed, happy for the time we spent together and a little proud that we had helped calm their fears.

The storm continued throughout the night.

When I woke up the next morning, I found both boys curled up on the floor by my bed. Maybe I wasn't quite as successful as I had originally thought.

Afternoon Ride

2011-06-14T14:21:00.000-07:00

Happiness is...

An afternoon family bike ride.

Now that the weather is nicer and the daylight lasts longer, there is time for us to explore the bike trails. We pedal along the river, listening to the croak of the frogs and watching the flash of the red-wing blackbirds atop the high grasses.

We take time to stop and point out new birds, to watch rabbits cross the path, and admire the onslaught of summer flowers.

We never hurry, except down big hills, but then just for the pure fun of it. Our pace is just as lazy as the summer afternoon.

Go visit Leigh at Leigh vs. Laundry for 52 Weeks of Happiness and post a photo of something that makes you happy.

What It Says About Me: Bedside Table

2011-06-08T18:20:00.000-07:00

We've all heard it. You can tell a lot about a woman by the contents of her purse. And it's absolutely true. Take a look in my purse, and there is evidence of my job, my family, and where I've been.

I got thinking that it's not just a purse. You can tell a lot about a person by many things. So I thought I would explore some of the things that say a lot about me. I'll eventually get to the purse and its enlightening contents. However, I thought I would start with something else. Something a little less public. My bedside table. Or more accurately, what's on my bedside table.

Here it is...

Nothing fancy.

As to what's on it? Well, there is:
-alarm clock: somedays it feels like my life is all about the alarm clock.
-lamp: for the occasional novel reading in bed
-glasses: because it's bad to leave my contacts in at night (I would never!)
-nail clippers: because I do my own manicures.
-picture of Hubster and me: isn't it just so cute?
-little jewelry box: for the special pieces that I don't actually wear.
-perfume: so I can smell so pretty.
-pack of seeds: this should be actually be planted instead of just sitting on my nightstand.
-stack of library books: let's be honest. These will be due before I get through them. And besides, the last Harry Potter movie comes out in just over a month, so I need to start re-reading series.

There's a few other things: a small stack of student loan statements, a back massager that has been used maybe twice in the last five years, and some dust bunnies.

So what does this say about me? I like to think it says I love to read, I'm blind as a bat, I love pretty things, and I'm a fairly tidy person, even if I'm not a fan of dusting. What do you think?

On the other hand, this is Hubster's bedside table.

I don't think there is any explanation needed.

What does your bedside table say about you?

Bridges of Madison County

2011-06-06T03:00:00.000-07:00

I'm not talking about the book (which I read and didn't like) or the movie (which I haven't seen.)

I'm talking about the actual bridges of Madison County. Six historic covered bridges located in Madison County, Iowa.

I first fell in love with these bridges when I saw a sign along I-80 when we were moving here, indicating the exit for the bridges, long before I ever saw them.

When Hubster and I starting making plans for our 10 year anniversary, we initially had all sorts of plans. A weekend in Chicago, with fancy restaurants, shows, and a hotel with city views. A cabin at a lake in Minnesota. A bed and breakfast in Madison Country with the bridges. We quickly realized that a weekend away, just the two of us, was not going to happen. With no way to secure a babysitter for the boys for more than a few hours in an evening, two days sans children was impossible. But instead of feeling (too) sorry for ourselves and not doing anything, we decided that the children would just come with us.

We drove several hours to Winterset, Iowa, the small town that the bridges surround. The rest of the day was spent traveling dusty country back roads, following the crude map I had the best we could, making our way to each of the covered bridges.

This is the point where I attempt not to inundate you with photos. Because it turns out, I loved the bridges more than I imaging.

Despite the fact I haven't seen the movie and I didn't like the book, these bridges have a romantic air to the them. They make a person want to hold the hand of the person they love tightly, stroll quietly through each bridge, and then watch the water slip by underneath. Which is exactly what we did.

Along with hollering at our boys to please try not to fall off the bridge and for heaven's sake, stay out of the water!

Although most of the bridges have been renovated, many are still in their original locations and still have the original, now 100 year plus old wood planks making up the floor of each bridge. The floors have been worn down, until the knots in the wood stand higher than the surrounding wood, making me wonder how many other people in love have wandered across these bridges.

Along with the shape and the classic coloring, the thing I noticed quickly was the writing. At first, I thought it was simply vandalism. Then I realized that each bridge was acting as its own guest book. For the most part, the wood was densely covered in names and dates. But mingled in between (along with the occasional obscene graffiti) were messages. Messages of dreams coming true, of families traveling together, and of falling in love.

After the covered bridges, we continued to spend time exploring the roads of Madison County. As it turns out, there is more to the area than 140 year old bridges.

There were towers to climb,

stone bridges to stroll over,

mazes to explore,

and rolling Iowa country scenery to take in.

We spent a beautiful day driving through the heartland, tightly holding hands, falling more in love with Iowa, more in love with the bridges of Madison County, and more in love with each other.

A Little Celebration

2011-05-30T20:10:00.001-07:00

Monkey graduated preschool last week.

It sounds just a little bit ridiculous when I actually say it. The only primary education graduation I remember was high school. Now there are preschool, kindergarten, elementary, junior high, and high school graduation. In a way, it feels a little like the practice of giving every kid who plays sports a trophy, the losing team as well as the winning. That after too many trophies, they just don't mean anything. Maybe that will end up being the case.

However, watching my little Monkey, in his darling handmade paper-bowl-and-construction paper hat, walk up and get his "certificate of completion," it didn't feel overdone and silly. It felt like a moment to celebrate the year that has gone by. A moment to celebrate how much he has learned. And a moment to grieve, just a little, how fast the year has gone by and how much he has grown.

This preschool has been a good thing. Located on a farm, he spent his preschool days feeding animals, having pony rides, planting gardens, watching chicks grow to chickens. It's not every preschool that sends home notes that say, "Please don't send your child to school in flip flops. It makes it very hard for them to climb fences."

After the little graduation ceremony, we wandered the farm, taking pictures of Monkey with all the animals.

Then it was time to go and leave preschool behind us. We have are off to kindergarten and all that excitement. I have a feeling, much as Winnie-the-Pooh must have, that "an adventure is about to begin."

"I wasn't going to easy. I was going for you."

2011-05-26T19:58:00.000-07:00

Rewind 10 years.

Back before this blog was created, back before I even knew was blogging was. Back before we moved to Iowa. Back before I had started residency, back before I was even sure I was going to do medicine. Back before dental school and medical school, back before college even. Back before our first home, before we owned a single decent piece of furniture between the two of us. Back before our house was filled with toys, back before we even had children.

Rewind 10 years, and I was just 19 years old. And I was about to make the decision that led to everything I listed above. Basically, the decision that lead to nearly everything good in my life.

Rewind 10 years, and Hubster and I were getting married.

Who would have thought that at just 19 years of age, I would have actually made such a good decision?

Who would have known that the man who stood at the end of the aisle was not only going to be my best friend, but give me the courage to make my dreams come true? And when I was too scared to follow my dreams, would hold my hand and walk beside me on the path towards them?

I didn't. Despite the fact I knew I wanted to be married to Hubster, and walked up that aisle towards him unafraid and excited, I naively thought that what I was getting was a husband.

I didn't just realize all the things he would be.

A shoulder to cry on. A cheering section. A safe place. The father to my children. The call to my bluff. The calm to my storm. The one to catch the loose ends. The one to pick up the pieces. The one to build what I imagined.

Rewind 10 years, and I naively thought this whole thing would be easy. Nothing has been easy. Every moment has been difficult, as we've worked hard to create this life for us. Nothing has been easy, but it's been wonderful every moment. I wouldn't change a thing.

In my husband's own words, as I apologized for him having to be the calm, catch the loose ends, and pick up the pieces, as I apologized that things weren't easy, he said the words that I still hear every day.

I wasn't going for easy. I was going for you.

At least my kids think I'm cool

2011-05-25T10:45:00.000-07:00

It's something that's been happening for a while now. I've been slowly becoming uncool.

When I first got married, a friend of mine said that we needed to go out, before I lost all sense of style. I scoffed, sure that would never happen. I had always been pretty trendy. I've been convincing myself that I haven't lost my sense of cool.

After all, I read books that are on the Best Seller's list, I keep an eye on what colors are in style, and I know what vlogs and Twitter are.

And I've always been a cool mom. I still wear make-up, I know the difference between Transformers and Bakugan. I don't own mommy jeans. I wasn't loosing my touch.

But lately, I've been getting a sense that maybe, just maybe I'm not as cool as I thought I was.

Let me share the evidence:

-I text in full sentences, spelling all my words out and using punctuation.

-I don't have a Twitter account (I only ever claimed to know about it.)

-We were going to go see a movie and had no idea what was even in theaters.

-I've never heard a single Justin Bieber song.

-When fellow bloggers post about music, I have not heard of most of the groups.

-I'm a two spacer.

-I feel more comfortable listening to 80s music than to top 40.

-I don't own a smart phone.

-I can't bring myself to wear a maxi dress.

-I'd rather stay home and watch Food Network than go out.

It's slowly happening. I'm becoming uncool. I'm not sure there is much I can do about it. I have no interest in The Bachelorette, wedge sandals, or teen pop stars. There may not be much I can go to regain my once trendy self, but I can do my best to convince my children that Back to the Future and vintage U2 are trendy. The good thing is that right now, they are young enough to believe me.

Up next, a mini van and a scrunchie.

Snippets

2011-05-22T17:36:00.001-07:00

- I'm almost done with my cardiac rotation. The days cannot pass quickly enough.

-My beautiful new art cabinet now has knobs on its drawers. I'm not sure if you noticed the lack of knobs or not, but not being able to open the drawers has seriously helped keep everything organized.

- I have so many ideas for blog posts, but I've been having so much fun with, well, my life, that I haven't gotten around to posting them. But seriously, there are great posts in my blog's future.

-School is almost out. I could not be more excited! I have so many plans for this summer, I'm already making Hubster nervous.

-We went for our traditional Sunday afternoon at the library and ended up spending nearly 2 hours sitting in the "secure area," along with nearly 100 other people during a tornado warning. This was not what I had in mind for my weekend.

-We still don't have set-in-stone plans for childcare for when Hubster starts dental school. This is stressing me out.

-I've been on a dessert-cooking kick. The problem with cooking desserts, though, is that afterward, I want to eat them.

-We watched several episodes of How the Universe Works on the Science Channel with the boys. This was a huge mistake. I've had to field questions about how the world is going to end, and is a black hole going to eat us, and what will happen to us if there is a super nova. I just can't seem to provide enough reassurance that we will be fine.

-I just finished one of the worst books I've read in a long time. It's definitely time to read something else.

-The farmer market is open again!

-I've completely given up hope of catching up with my DVR. Sigh.

-I have vacation on Thursday and Friday, so this is a short week for me! (Which is just perfect, considering the celebrating I'll be doing later - more on that to come.) However, the universe seems set on keeping everything in balance, since I'm on call both Memorial Day and the following Saturday, turning what is normally a 4 day week into a 6 day week. Boo.

-Hopefully, my mind will be able to form more coherent thoughts in a few days.

Hide and Seek

2011-05-19T17:54:00.000-07:00

A favorite spring activity is strolling through our favorite park, seeking out flowers.

It's a little bit of a contest.

Who can find the first Jack-in-the-pulpit? Who can find the most?

Who can spot the first May apple, the pale flower shyly nodding under large green leaves?

Everyone finds some, making this a game that everyone wins, and everyone loves.

And, if we're really lucky, we find something new, like the rare showy orchid, hidden at ground level.

(Sorry for the blurry picture.
We were so excited to find this flower,
we had to take a picture despite the fading evening light.)

Soon, spring will be over, and the Jack-in-the-pulpits and the May apples will be gone.

But the game won't end. There will be columbine and wild roses to hunt for in summer, and Indian pipe and jewel weed to hunt for in autumn.