No more diapers...well, almost

We are celebrating!


Two days ago, we put Blaise in his first pair of little tiny underwear.

Is it terrible that I think him running around in his small WALL-E underwear is the cutest thing in the entire world? He just looks too little to be wearing such big boy clothes.

We never thought we would get to this point. Potty training, well, it's been rough, to say the least. We've struggled, taken breaks, tried again.

And the Big Move? Yeah, that didn't help at all.

A month ago (wow, a lot has happened in a month), Keith and I were nearly beside ourselves potty training Blaise. We both remember things being surprisingly easy with Roman (although I think there is some parental history skewing in those memories.)

I read several books, searched the internet, talked to people. But I hadn't found anything that I really wanted to implement. Until I read this post by MckMama over at My Charming Kids.

Her technique is very laid back. Which suited me. I don't need to be getting all worked up over pee. I have enough on my, er... suddenly "plate" doesn't seem like a good word choice here.

Basically, it is letting children go "bottomless" to connect their physical feelings with a physical result. "Oh, I felt like this, and "piddle" came out of me (yes, we have our own strange nicknames for bodily functions).

We didn't start bottomless training at our old apartment, because most of the apartment was carpeted, and we were getting it cleaned prior to the move. But once we got to our new house, complete with a wide expanse of laminate flooring, the pants came off.

And it worked! Blaise would go all day without an accident. Or he would come yelling that he needed to go potty. Then he would say that he had "piddled" on the floor and show me two or three small drops.

We've been doing this for a couple weeks and during his bottomless time, he had fewer and fewer accidents. Practically none the last several days.

We were now brave enough to go on to step 2: underwear. We put on his first pair on Saturday. He's still very proud of them.

Saturday went great, just two accidents. Sunday, a few more. Today, a few more.

All completely expected.

The important thing is that we are moving forward!

He still wears diapers (or Pull-Ups, but who are we kidding? Pull-Ups are just diapers with different pictures and side closures) at nap and bedtime. Because I have my limits on how much laundry I want to do.

I can almost see it now... the day we once again become diaper free!

Bigger Today

Roman turned 7 today.

I still can't believe that it happened.

When he was born, I felt old enough to have this darling newborn cuddle up to me.

But now that he is seven, I don't feel old enough or prepared enough.

He, on the other hand, is perfectly ready to be seven. Even when he woke up, he said, "Know what? I actually feel bigger today."

During moments like these, it is hard not to look back and reminisce about the baby he was and the charming boy he has become.

Two years old

Three years old

Another three year old picture
I love his eyes!

Four years old...
And silly!

Four years old

Five years old

Six years old

(I would have loved to put some baby pictures in, but none of them are scanned into the computer yet.)

There was no big birthday party today. There was just the four of us. But it has been an amazing day.

First, another butterfly greeted us in the jar on the counter early this morning...



Then, a multitude of ducks greeted us at the river's edge...


After that, it was time for Pixar's "Up." Complete with 3-D glasses. (And I totally recommend this movie. We loved it!)

Then cake, candles, and presents.



You have to admit that the cake turned out awesome! Every year, I let the boys request whatever they want for their birthday cake. And then it is up to me to figure out how to make it happen. It can be a little time consuming. But I only have to make two cakes a year. And it is always worth it, to see their faces light up.

Roman requested the "Hot Wheels Logo" for his cake. (Yes, his exact words.) And that's what he got! He loved it.

Where has the time gone?

I wish that I could take credit for how smart he is, for how curious he is, for how sensitive he is. But I know that I can't. All I know is that Keith and I were blessed to have Roman. Before he came along, we were just a couple. Roman came and made us a family.

Happy birthday, Roman!

Hickory Hill Park

Give us a free moment, and we'll be off exploring.

I know that we should be working on the house. I could have been painting yet even more trim. But the temperature and humidity was tolerable today.

So Roman, Blaise, and I set out for a much needed, much anticipated adventure.

We first heard about Hickory Hill Park from our real estate agent. Although she had lived nearly her entire life in this town, she only "discovered" the park after her own children found it as teenagers.

And judging by how few people we saw (two others) it is a well kept secret.

It says "Park" but for me, it was more of a glimpse of what Iowa may have been like before it was covered in small towns and neighborhoods. Before the trees were chopped down and replaced with corn fields.

For over two hours, we wandered down curved trails underneath towering hardwoods. Squirrels, chipmunks, and rabbits constantly darted across the path, some even taking their sweet time about it and giving us a look over while they were at it.



We discovered bright blue damselflies, a variety of butterflies, shiny green beetles, and some really creepy long-legged spiders.



We enjoyed wild blackberries, running to our hearts content, quiet, and nature.



All contained in 190 acres surrounded by the town.

Hickory Hill Park, in the space of one afternoon with my boys, has become my favorite place in our new city.

Scared Stiff

In a world where people live and die from decisions people make, where 80 hour work weeks are considered merciful, and you are asked to give up sleep and family time without a blink, we're supposed to be tough.

But I'm feeling anything but.

I am scared. Probably more scared than I have ever been in my whole life.

I realize now that all those other times I thought I was scared, I was just nervous. (Well, except before Bug was born. I was actually scared then. But completely different.)

This time, I'm so scared it is difficult to swallow. I walk around with this strange feeling in my stomach that alternates between a dead weight and a hole. I find myself looking at the ceiling when I thought I was sleeping.

Starting July 1st, I am actually going to be taking care of patients. Not medical student patient care. Not "go see this patient, write a note, tell me what you think, and then I'll take care of the rest" type patient care.

This is the real thing.

Obviously (and probably a huge source of relief to all you reading this) I am supervised. Closely.
There are people very invested, for my sake, their sake, the hospital's sake, and mostly the patient's sake, very invested in making sure I don't screw up.

But for the first time, I can sign my name with an MD behind it. And if I write an order in a patient's chart, it will happen. For the first time in my professional life, I have real responsibility that has real consequences. Never will the transition be so enormous.

As a medical student, we can interject our opinions or thoughts, but in the end, we are not responsible. Now, I carry the title "Intern." And that means I am responsible.

I love patients. I love the feeling that I am in a field where someone, voluntary or not, puts their trust in me to take care of them. To treat them. To ease their pain and their worries.

Only in parenthood do we see that some type of trust.

And the thought that I might hurt someone, unintentionally of course, but still hurt someone none the less, scares me.

During medical school, we study nearly endlessly. We take exam after exam. We sacrifice for that opportunity.

To have the trust of a patient.

And I don't want to do anything to lose it.

Chrysalis

We have been keeping caterpillars in a jar on our counter.

We caught them a couple weeks ago off the milk weed in the field next door. I wish I had taken pictures then, to show you their black, green, yellow, and white fat little bodies. And how Roman kept saying "They look just like they are make out of clay."

We actually watched one make his chrysalis. Even surrounded by medicine and the marvels of technology, the simple things of nature are sometimes the most miraculous. How in mere minutes, this fat J of a caterpillar covered himself in shiny, protective greenness.

And today, emerged as a butterfly.

It doesn't matter how common place these things are, or how often we see it. The fact that this transformation occurred in a jar on our kitchen counter is amazing.

(I, of course, missed the whole thing. I was at hospital orientation. But as I am now being paid for this, I will try to think of everyday differently.)

The boys were amazed. Roman said he did want to hold the butterfly with his finger, but it just wouldn't come of the stick they had used to retrieve it from the jar.

Although, from these pictures it looks like no one really wanted to hold the butterflies
Blaise especially looks thrilled about this

Roman and Blaise watched it dry and strengthen its wings in the sun.



And then it flew away.

Because dishes DO NOT do themselves

So after a very long time, I've decided to participate in the blog festival that is "Not Me! Mondays" created by MckMama. I've read these posts on many of my favorite blogs, but have never had a reason to participate...


Until now! I can't think of a better way to sum up this week then "NOT ME!"

Things are crazy when you're moving. Everyone knows that. Add a apparently not-so-minor home renovation on top of that, and, well, we've just approached a whole new level of craziness.

But even with that, every girl has her limits.

I DID NOT leave the dishes undone and piling up in the sink. Keith DID NOT feel obliged to mention the insane amount of dishes. Because I am always on top of housework. And Keith doesn't mind a little craziness.

And then, while I was NOT adding a seventh layer of paint to the trim, the dishes DID NOT do themselves. Or did they...?


I DO NOT hate trim. Because painting seven layers of glossy white paint on trim is fun.

I DID NOT cry when we pulled back the carpet in the family room.


Because we DID NOT find mold. We DID NOT find water. Our family room does NOT leak every time it rains. Who would buy a house like that? Not me.

I DID NOT get a massive sunburn on my back and arms and shoulders when we were at the lake. Because everyone knows that I'm obsessive about sunscreen. I still DO NOT think it was a glorious day.

I DID NOT panic when I came home from my lab coat fitting and found this in our master bedroom.


Because I am always very calm. I was perfectly aware that fixing the floor joist was going to be a big project. So I absolutely DID NOT freak out at the size of the hole.

I AM NOT having moments of complete panic about being a resident and all the responsibility that goes along with it. I AM NOT having moments of terror when I think about being in the ER next week. Because I am a calm individual and and completely prepared for residency.

I AM NOT blogging instead of making dinner. I would never do that.

What have you not done this week? Head over to MckMama to see what everyone else hasn't done?

Frogs and beaches and burgers...

In other words, we've had the perfect Father's Day weekend.

Since residency orientation starts this week, we've tried to slow down on the home renovations this weekend, so that we could enjoy some quality time together.

Yesterday, we went back to the fossil beds to see how the tadpoles were doing (and to look for more fossils).

We found both fossils and frogs.

Roman with his fossil find (look closely around his feet)

Little tadpole becoming a frog

Tiny little frog (you can still even see a bit of his tail)

Another tiny frog

Our plans for Father's Day were to go up to the lake, do some swimming and boating.

We woke up to pouring rain.

But as the rain turned into a drizzle around noon, we decided to head out anyways.

We are so glad that we did. The clouds rolled away, and we enjoyed the beach under a beautiful blue sky and hot sun.



When everyone was sufficiently waterlogged and then stuffed with watermelon, hummus, (and, um, soda) we went for a long pedal boat ride.

Soaking up the sun

The lake is so beautiful. The day was so nice. It was such a wonderful day together.


Now, if anyone is still hunger, I do plan on making hamburgers this evening. Or just telling people that there is a lot of left-over watermelon.

I would also like to tell Keith how lucky we are that he is our dad. Roman and Blaise are so blessed to have someone for a father who is truly invested in them, loves them fiercely, and wants every good thing for them.

Thank you, Keith, for giving the title "Dad" so much meaning. We love you.

(And you'll notice there are pictures in this post. Which means I (actually Keith) found my card reader. Which means very soon there will be pictures of our remodel posted here. Hang tight!)