Everything Has a Season

Things have been quiet here around my blog.

Everything has a season, and it's not blog season in my life.

It has been a season for celebrating Monkey turning 9...

And Hubster turning 40...

And for 80s parties...

And for Color Runs...

And lantern festivals...

And friends visiting...

And long autumn runs...

And hikes way up into the mountains...

And for building tree houses...

And for adopting a new kitten...

And for making Doctor Who Halloween costumes...

And for making big career choices and painting bedrooms and reading anesthesiology journals and rocking Duck to bed and getting not enough sleep and being behind on laundry and visits with family and game nights and menu planning and long parent teacher conferences and middle school science projects.

I'm still working on that elusive work-life-family-exercise balance that I'm more and more convinced doesn't exist. I've been pulled in more and more directions than every before. How did I ever have time to just sit and write before?

I may find small quiet moments (like I did today) to share a few moments. But mostly, I'm taking a break from one more thing on my to-do list. Because all the story times and evening workouts and over night shifts and crock pot meal preps and just being there for my children is what is important right now. It is the season for just being there. It's the season for being present.

14 Years

Hubster and I celebrated 14 years of marriage yesterday, sitting on our family room couch, wearing sweat pants, watching Redbox rentals and eating take out that we hid from the kids until after their bedtime.

After 14 years, our idea of romance has changed a little.

We actually celebrated over the weekend, several days earlier, because it was easier with our work and school schedules. We had a fancy dinner downtown. I wore a little black dress. Hubster bought me roses.

We had reservations at 6:30 and were home by 8 pm.

After 14 years, our idea of a night out has also changed a little.

I'm completely happy with the changes. We've changed as a couple and as individuals. We don't have the same needs and interests that we did early on in our relationship.

At the beginning, I wanted a huge fancy wedding and for him to bring me flowers all the time. I didn't get that, but I'm much happier with great marriage and him watching the kids so I can go for a run.

I feel more loved when he does dishes and puts away laundry that any fancy gift could ever make me feel. Watching him play with our children makes my heart happier than night out could.

We've gotten so used to each other and the way things are, there are times it's easy to feel complacent about things. I've grown so accustomed to my marriage that I catch myself taking it for granted, forgetting how good it really it. 

I hear and read stories about other people's relationships and I thank my lucky stars that I have Hubster by my side.

After 14 years, there are still big changes on the horizon. And with Hubster next to me, I welcome them all.

In Celebration of My Husband

Hubster turned 39 this month.

He may, or most likely may not, appreciate me sharing that.

I scrolled back through my blog to see what I had written on his last birthdays, only to find that it has been years since I've written Hubster a birthday blog post (I'm sure he's completely upset about this.)

If there is a person who deserves more recognition, I feel it's my husband. After all, anyone who has put up with me for all these years deserves something, right (and all he gets is this lousy post.)

This last year has pushed him more than we could have anticipated. Between the increased work load at dental school, and the increasing demands of our children, and the changes at my work, to say that the last year as been difficult would be an understatement.

Happy Birthday to the man who makes breakfast for three very picky eaters every school morning, made all the more difficult by those breakfasts needing to be gluten free.

Happpy Birthday to the man who gets those three kids dressed, ready for school, and out the door each day, by himself, since I leave to work sometimes hours before they are up.

Happy Birthday to the man who takes care of all the bills without ever complaining about it or often even mentioning, so that I have one less thing to worry about.

Happy Birthday to the man who always makes sure I have gas in my car, because I often forget.

Happy Birthday to the man who lets me watch cooking shows and dramas with men in kilts, even where there are sports on the other channel. Sometimes.

Happy Birthday to the man who is willing to smell the questionable gallon of milk and the tub of leftover casserole.

Happy Birthday to the man who gets up with the crying baby during the night, even after long days of school.

Happy Birthday to the man who has picked up more slack and supported me in more ways than I'll probably ever know.

This was supposed to be a chance to celebrate my husband's birthday, but I guess really, it's a chance to say thank you.

By The Numbers

12 years is a long time. But this marriage has been the best, most exciting, most worthwhile thing ever. It has given me my children. It has opened doors and opportunities I might have been too afraid to go through with alone. It has become my labor of love.

And it's still a work in progress. 

You think after 12 years you know everything there is to know about a person. Well, I just found out that Hubster likes thin spaghetti noodles, when I thought he only liked regular spaghetti noodles.

There are still so many things I want to do with this man. Finish our education (come on, next two years.) Buy our forever house. Live through a renovation. Travel the world. See our children marry and have our grandchildren. 

I love you, Hubster.

Here's to 60 more anniversaries.

Love

I'm guilty of being swept up by commercialized, dramatized, Hollywood ideas of what love and romance should be. I'm guilty of thinking that because I'm not lavished in jewelry, flowers, surprise trips to tropical locations, evenings out, etc, that I'm not loved, and that my life is lacking romance.

But lately, I've been aware of how much Hubster really loves me. It may not be shown with romantic poems, surprise deliveries at work, or unexpected gifts. However, that's just what the rest of the world wants us to think romance and love is.

Love is Hubster watching a football game and realizing that it's going into overtime and that my favorite reality TV show is going to be delayed, so he changes the settings on the DVR.

Love is him letting me win Words With Friends (and Uno and Trivial Pursuit.)

Love is him finding a song he thinks I might like and putting on my iPod without telling me.

Love is him making the traditional Sunday breakfast that I usually cook, while I sleep post-call.

Love is him attending a new church, because he knows how much it means to me.

Love is him watching cooking shows with me, even when there is college basketball on another channel.

Love is him being careful with my laundry, making sure my bras and pretty underwear never go in the dryer and my favorite shirt is always carefully laid flat to dry.

Love is him leaving a great job, all his friends, and his family to move halfway across the country with me while I followed my dreams.

Love is him sitting next to me while I cry on the kitchen floor, about to give up on my dreams, and telling me that I'm better than that, and I can do it, and he's there for me.

Love is him reading to the boys each night and singing lullabies to Monkey.

This isn't the love that movies stuffed my younger self's head full of, the romance society prepared me for. This is so much better.

Happy Anniversary of Your 25th Birthday

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.

Yet Another Beginning

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.

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

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.

Equivalent

Call me typical.

If I walk through the door at home after a long day of work, and there are flowers on the table, it makes me happy. I know the whole thing about them not lasting, about them being expensive. I don't care. Roses, daisies, tulips, lilies. It doesn't really matter.

Flowers can be for birthdays, Valentine's Day, Mother's Days, or anniversaries. Flowers can mean I love you, I was thinking of you, I'm sorry, You mean so much to me, or Just because. I don't really care the reason. I love getting flowers.

Like I said. Call me typical.

So here's my dilemma.

Hubster is amazing. Without complaint (usually), he's put in two years of being a stay-at-home dad. He gets the laundry done. He gets the boys to school. He makes the beds and sweeps the floors. Nearly every day, he has dinner ready when I get home from work. He doesn't complain about my crazy work hours. Especially lately, when my work hours have been a little bit longer and the chance of getting home early isn't an option, he's really kept the loose ends covered.

He deserves flowers.

Except he's a guy. And from previous conversations, I'm pretty sure he doesn't get that warm fuzzy feeling regarding flowers that I do.

So what is the male equivalent of flowers?

I asked my colleagues at work. At first it was, "Well, what does he like?" I could get him more golf equipment, or a Sudoku book, or such. But I don't think that works. I don't think a box of golf balls says the same thing as a dozen roses.

Then I got the inevitable answer. Sex. My friends were insistent that this is the closest equivalent. While it may be true that this is what men want, I still don't think that it's the same as flowers. There isn't the same "walk through the door and think, Ahhh, you thought of me" type of feeling.

The closest thing we could come up with? Steak. Every guy I asked said that steak makes things feel more special.

So that's what I did. I managed to get home a little early with some steaks. I told Hubster I would make dinner. We had grilled steaks and ate them on our deck, enjoying the warming weather and each other's company. And it was nice.

But I still don't think it's the same.

So now, I'm out of ideas.

What, if anything, can a girl get a guy on occasion to let him know that she loves him, she appreciates him, and she's lucky to have him?

I don't think my back up plan of sandwiches is going to work.

What This All Means

As I've mentioned before, Hubster started dental school in the fall. Now that we've turned the corner into 2011, mentally I have to start thinking that he is starting this year, not next year. This is such a huge thing for our family and I spend a great deal of time thinking about what this means for us. Things such as:

-Our boys will be back in daycare of some form or another. We're hoping to get them in the before and after school program at their school, but there is a long wait list.

-Who on earth is going to clean our house now? It's not exactly the cleanest house ever, but Hubster keeps the major messes under control. And he does laundry and dishes. With him going to school, I'm just not sure how it's going to be done.

-We get to double our student loans. Actually more than double, as it turns out that dental school is a lot more expensive than medical school. Although with all the interest that I've capitalized, we may just about be equal.

-This sure makes baby planning thing a whole lot more difficult. I think this is entitled to its very own post.

-We'll absolutely be sticking around in Iowa for several more years. I am perfectly happy about this. Iowa has really begun to feel like home.

-I need a job here after residency. There are only 3 real options. I hope they like me.

-We are once again on a "five year plan." I think we've gone through three or four of these by now.

-I'm trying to not think about how complicated our schedules will be. If only I could have a somewhat predictable schedule so that everyone could count on me a little bit more.

-I see a significant amount of pizza in our future. Because if I thought cleaning our house is going to be difficult, cooking meals will be even more so.

-People can finally stop asking Hubster what his plans for the future are. Apparently, being a stay at home dad wasn't a good enough response.

-We are going to start being asked that question again. The "how do you guys do it" question. I need a better answer than just one day at a time.

These are some of the things that have been running through my mind ever since we got Hubster's acceptance a few weeks ago. I don't have solutions to many of them, and many of them stress me out. What I do know is this. It's going to be hard. It's going to be crazy. It's going to be worth it.

When the dream and the reality don't match

Do you ever have those plans that seem fabulous, brilliant, and down-right genius inside your head, but then are, well, not any of those things in reality?

That's how being a stay-at-home dad has been for Hubster.

When we started this whole journey, and I'm going way back here, back to just getting into medical school and still living in the west, we always knew there was a time that Hubster would probably not work and I would. When we knew we were moving to the Midwest and starting residency, it was an absolutely for sure thing. It made sense for our family. It needed to be done. And Hubster isn't one to complain. Ever.

I was so excited about the whole idea that finally, someone would be home with our children. There were many people who were envious of Hubster's opportunity to stay home. I was so thrilled (and envious myself) that I failed to notice that Hubster was not.

He's been staying home for over a year, and it's been difficult. First, it was just difficult for him. It was such a change of pace. He'd been working full time since he graduated high school. He'd been the provider. He'd had the social interaction that a job provides. And all of that just disappeared. So it was difficult.

Then it became difficult for me. I could see that he was unhappy. I could see that he was struggling. There was nothing I could do to fix it. I couldn't switch positions, no matter how much I might want to. And I so wanted him to be happy about being home, and the fact that he wasn't made me unhappy.

Now that Hubster knows he is going to dental school, now that he has something on the horizon, we've been able to be much more honest with each other about why things have been difficult.

Let me say that Hubster is a fabulous dad. He takes wonderful care of our boys. He does the dishes, the laundry, and most of the meals. But I could always tell that nearly every day was a challenge for him. And I've wondered why, why on earth should things be so difficult!

Now I'm going to go out and make blatantly wide generalizations here, but stick with me for a minute. As girls, for the most part, we assume that we are going to grow up, get married, have children, and run a house. Yes, we may have jobs and careers, but that is in addition to the traditional female roles. Growing up, everyone else assumes this. As females, we have an entire culture preparing us for those roles. Our mothers teach us how to cook, clean, organize, etc. We have bridal showers and baby showers were advice is given. There are entire magazines dedicated to assist and educate. We are surrounded by this.

For men, it's a very different culture. There are men who have mothers that teach them domestic skills, but it's more of a bonus than a necessity. Hubster was thrown into a setting that required a huge skill set that he just didn't have. Looking back, I realize how unfair it was of me to take him away from everything he knew, place him into a brand new role, and expect him to not only be happy with it, but to thrive.

Things are getting better. We're implementing systems. (Hubster cooks dinner, I do dinner dishes on days I'm home.) But to say that the whole thing has been this glorious thing would be dishonest.

It's not all bad, obviously. Hubster gets time with the boys. We've saved on daycare. I've learned a lot about being patient. Hubster's learned a lot about, well, being home. Like he says, "People think that being home is all wonderful, like a vacation. Actually, it's really hard work." Anyone can do this for a day, or even a few days, or a week. But it's the day in, day out, week after week, month after month that will get you.

Things haven't been perfect. And I'm sure that they are not just magically going to be. This is something we have to continue to work at. But we understand each other. We are there for each other. And we just ignore the dusting.

Waiting

I was working on a post, one about how stressful waiting can be.

Because that what our lives have been the last couple months. Waiting. Waiting to know what the future holds. Waiting to make plans. The kids waiting for Christmas. There has been a whole lot of waiting.

I hate waiting. I hate the feeling of putting our lives on hold. I hate waiting to start living our lives. Because this IS our life. Small and simple as it is. I don't want to keep waiting.

The waiting is stressful.

But the post that I was waiting to publish, well, I don't have to.

The waiting is over. Well, some of it.

Hubster found out today that he was accepted to dental school.

He called me into the office were we saw the word on his application: Admitted.

We hugged, jumped around like silly kids we actually are, and cried. This was the moment we were waiting for when two and a half years ago, Hubster decided to go back to school, work on some prerequisites, and start the whole process. This was the moment we were waiting for when we were dipping into our 401K to pay the extra tuition costs when he still needed two more classes and we couldn't get any student loans to pay for them (since Hubster already had two bachelors degrees and therefore didn't qualify.) This was the moment we were waiting for when we invested in a suit and Hubster went for his interview. This was the moment that we have been painfully waiting for every single day since then.

Exactly what this means for our future, I'm still in the process of wrapping my head around.

For now, what this means is that Hubster will start dental school in the fall.

And that the waiting is over.

For now.

The System

Each evening, across America, a battle takes place in living rooms, on sofas, and between recliners. The battle for the remote.

Okay, that was a little bit dramatic. I'm just saying, most men and women tend to like to watch different types of television. Hubster and I are the same. However, we don't fight over the remote. I actually like football, and Hubster is slowly coming to appreciate Survivor and cooking competition shows. And then there are the things that we both agree on: 30 Rock, Office, and Mythbusters.

But when it comes to movies, we're not on the same page.

There is definitely shared territory. We both love Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, the Borne Trilogy, and Spiderman.

But I also love movies like Pride and Prejudice and Finding Neverland. If I'm going to rent a movie, I tend to choose something like The Time Travelers Wife, or Eat Pray Love. In other words, movies that Hubster has branded "depressing."

Given his own devices, Hubster picks movies like Grown Ups or McGruber. Movies that I resort to calling "juvenile."

So, when you have such different taste in movies, how do you make it work so that when the weekend comes around and there is time for a movie, things don't come unraveled and you end up watching The Fellowship of the Ring for the umpteenth time?

That's where the system comes in. The movie system.

We trade bad movies.

I rent Revolutionary Road. I cry during the movie. Hubster loudly proclaims the movie to be disturbed and depressing. I agree and I owe him a movie. He makes me watch The Informant. And now we're equal. (Okay, The Informant was really good. Don't tell him that.)

He makes me watch McGruber. I spend the entire movie shaking my head about how terrible it is. Hubster has a moment of embarrassment over his middle school sensibilities. And he owes me a movie.

And I'm taking my time, trying to decide between Eat Pray Love or Love and Other Drugs.

Movies we both like don't count towards the score.

Technically, I think that I'm actually behind, since I've submitted him to countless chic flicks that he always hates and I end up liking many of the action movies he chooses.

Now, if only we could find just as good a system for who gets to take out the garbage now that it's 10 degrees outside.

All Of The Above

My best friend.


My support system.

The father of my children.


My team mate.

The carrier of heavy things and opener of jars.

The fixer of cars, roofs, and battery-operated toys.

The one in my corner.

My soul mate.

The love of my life.

Happy Birthday, to all of the above.

Perfectly Suited

It's not a big secret. Hubster is a laid-back, casual guy.

However, his dental school interview is less than a week away. To say he is stressing about this would be an understatement. He's obsessively going over interview questions, researching common topics, and going over answers.

But having good DAT scores, a good GPA, and being prepared for the interview isn't enough.

You gotta look the part.

I have seen Hubster wear a suit three times in my life. When we were dating, and he took me to a nice restaurant. When we got married. When we had a small open house for our wedding for his friends and family in Montana.

That's it.

Three times in the past 10+ years. And all within a year of each other. If you noticed, the last time was right after we got married. 9 years ago.

To be complete fair, he did pull out his suit about 3 years ago to wear it to a formal outing, only to find that his boyish figure, well, wasn't quite what it had been. And that's when he confessed that it was actually an old suit of his dad's.

Like I said, Hubster's a pretty casual guy.

But casual isn't going to cut it for professional interview.

So Hubster took a deep breath and went and got a suit. A real suit. A modern suit that hadn't been previously own. A suit that was tailored for him.

Of course, you can't just have a suit. One needs a shirt, a tie, and shoes. A real shirt, tie, and shoes.


Which, yes, Hubster was also lacking.


Once again, to be fair, he does have several ties. Ones that have Slinkies and cartoon Tasmanian devils on them.


But now he is completely prepared. He's perfectly suited.


He actually is surprised by how much he likes it.

And, damn, he looks good.


I could get used to this.

Last week, or A collection of unrelated thoughts

-Bug is back in school. It was the first first day of school that I've missed. From our conversation when I got home, that was obviously much harder on me than on him.

-Hubster's dental school interview is coming up in a couple weeks. We spend time in the evening going over questions and preparing him. I like to consider myself a valuable resource, considering the multitude of interviews I have done for both medical school and residency.

-The interview is also a reminder that Hubster has not worn a suit since our wedding. He also has not worn a tie in over 5 years. He was due for some shopping. Hubster is now the proud owner of an amazing tailored charcoal suit, with a blue shirt, new tie, and some very modern Kenneth Cole shoes.

-Hubster is very hot all dressed up.

-It has rained twice since I lost my camera in the woods. It makes me sad to think about it all waterlogged and alone.

-We bought a new camera. The last one I had I had bought 5 years ago, just as Bug was turning three. Turns out technology has changed quite a bit over the last 5 years. My camera cost the same amount that we paid 5 years ago, but does about a billion more things, and does them all much better. I'm sure it might just be a rebound relationship, but it sure feels like love.

-After three summers of swimming lessons, and some frustration on our part, his part, and his instructors' part, Bug finally can finally swim. He took his first independent, non-supported strokes at the pool today! We celebrated with ice cream.

-We spent the morning downtown at the sandcastle festival. It was hot. It was sandy. It was made all better by the street fountains.






-I ran out of contact lenses and have been forced into wearing my glasses. I feel so dowdy, I hate it.

-Hubster joined Facebook yesterday. Only because one of his uncles did and it made him feel old and behind the times. I think he's become obsessed already. Now the housework will never get done.

-Monkey is turning 4 this next weekend. I'm not sure I can allow this. He's still my baby.

-My kids are obsessed with Phineas and Ferb. I haven't seen a single episode, but I know all about it, since this has become the sole topic of conversations at the dinner table, in the car, on walks, at bedtime... I'm sure it's hilarious, but I'm tempted to ban it, just so we can talk about something other than Perry and Doofenshmirtz.

-Hubster is downstairs watching football. As if I needed another reminder that summer is practically over.

-I've realized blogging is a habit. Now that I only blog 2 or so times a week, it is occasionally hard for me to know what to write.

-I'm thankful for all of you that have stuck around during the changes in my life and my blog. Things are getting better, getting easier.

By means of an introduction

Wow! That's about all I have to say.

Last night, I checked a few e-mails, read a few blogs, you know...the usually way I waste, um, spend time on the Internet.

Today, I woke up with 12 new followers and a chock-full email inbox.

I was confused? What on earth had happened. And that's when I realized I had been featured, along with three other amazing bloggers on SITs Friday Potluck!

SITs (Or The Secret is in the Sauce), as I'm sure most of you know, created by Tiffany and Heather, is a site dedicated to supporting women bloggers. I've met so many people and found amazing blogs through that community.

And today, I personally got to be the recipient of that support. Today, I was able to find out what the recognition and support of SITs can do. And how it can make you feel.

As in, squealing and going happy dances in your pajamas and telling the kids that breakfast will be awhile.

So, although I know you stopped by to check out the awesomeness that is The Hunger Games, my love of the book, and why you should be running out right now to read it, if you are knew to The Katherine Wheel, I thought I'd do a little introduction.

I'm Katherine, of The Katherine Wheel, the crazy, busy, (usually) happy cycle of my life. I'm a twenty-something mother of two of the most beautiful boys in creation (and, no, I'm not biased.)

But my story is just a bit deeper and more complicated than that (aren't ours all that way?)...

I'm married to Hubster, who is my best friend and has supported me through an intense and on-going journey. In fact, we just celebrated our nine year wedding anniversary!

I'm a anesthesiology resident, just finishing up my first year of training. I graduated medical school at the end of 2008. Just making it through medical school, while being a mom and Hubster working full time and going to school part time was an adventure all it's own. But in 2009, I "matched" into an anesthesia program in Iowa. So, almost exactly one year ago, I packed up my family, and left nearly everything I knew behind in Utah, and drove 1200 miles across the country to start yet another adventure. Hubster left behind a great job to become, for the time being, a stay-at-home-day.

I'm not going to lie...there have been some dark moments. Being an intern can be brutal. Being away from family has been tough. But we're creating a new life for ourselves, and loving almost every moment of it.

If our lives weren't complicated enough, Hubster just submitted his application for dental school. So, if things go well, and he's accepted (which I have almost no doubt) we start the process of final exams, unpredictable clinical schedules, and student debt all over again. But I'm so proud, so excited, and so glad to support him that I wouldn't change a thing.

And there are the boys! Bug, 7-nearly-8 years old, is quiet, smart, and just a little bit sassy. Monkey, 3 years old, is default happy, energetic, and stubborn as anything. I am fiercely protective and wildly in love with those boys!


And as for me...well, I love being a mom more than anything. I love a good book and waking up with sunlight coming through my window. I love home renovation and nature walks. I am passionate about my family, healthy marriages, and health care. I eat more carbs than I should and exercise less than I should. I have issues with guilt and my age. I indulge in reality television and young adult fiction. I collect quotes and old school papers.

And I'm excited you're here!

Nine Year Journey

Yesterday marked nine years of marriage for Hubster and me.

I was too busy actually celebrating it to have any time to write about it yesterday. Between begging my way out of work early, buying a cardigan to accent my new dress (which is fabulous, by the way), locking myself out of my car, then rushing home to get ready, I was rather busy during the day. Then between a romantic dinner at a great restaurant, an amazing dessert, and a movie, the evening and night were equally busy.

It sounds strange to say nine years. Because nine years is a long time. But it feels like those years are slipped by, no, raced by in a heartbeat, and I'm still the same young girl in a white dress walking towards the love of my life.

I could write about the things that we've done during our marriage. But I've done that. I could post some of the reasons I absolutely adore Hubster. But I've done that. I could write about our wedding, and how grateful I am that how things start off don't predict how things end up. But I've also done that. I could write about our relationship and what we do to keep it so healthy. But, you guessed it...I've done that too.

So, what to write about?

Well, since nine years is a long time (and I think it sounds like such a long time because next year will be ten years and that is a landmark anniversary, and we sure aren't old enough for that!)...anyways.

Since nine years is a long time, I should have learned some things about marriage and relationships along the way. While I'm not an expert, I think I have learned a few things. I would say that I'll share with you the top ten things I learned, but I don't know how many I'll come up with, so we'll just go with the flow.

~Your partner will change with time. You will change with time. Expect it.

~No matter how great the start of the relationship way, no matter how passionately in love you are, eventually that "new-relationship feeling," it goes away. You might not get dizzy and lightheaded anymore when he touches the small of your back, your heart rate might not skip a beat when he kisses you. This doesn't mean that the love you share is any less. Only more comfortable.

~Friendship should be the basis of your relationship. There will be times when you don't feel romantic. You should always have the friendship to go back to.

~Marriage can be tough. You should always have Something Bigger Than You to rely on. Because, I promise, there will be times when love isn't enough. (Which gets back to friendship, as well.)

~Between the kids, the jobs, the house, the relatives, it will be easy to forget about your relationship. Time together won't just happen. Take the time, make the effort to work on your relationship. Schedule time together.

~Realize what matters. There are times when Hubster stacking papers by his bed or squeezing the toothpaste tube from the middle drives me crazy. But does it matter? No. Be willing to let those things go, so you can focus on what does matter.

~Be interested in what they are interested in. I used to care less about sports. But I learned to watch (and now love) football. Hubster was not a reader, but started reading books that I couldn't stop talking about. It gives us even more time together and more things to bond over.

~Recognize the need for space. You don't have to spend every single second together. Spending time apart doesn't mean you love each other less. Hubster loves golf. I've chosen to not take up golf and go with him, because that's his time. He always comes back refreshed and happy. I blog. Hubster leaves me alone while I blog (and he has also decided to not read my blog...so I'm free to say whatever I want about him.)

I really tried to come up with nine, because nine things in nine years seemed good. But right now, only eight are coming to mind.

So, there you have it. My insight into marriage after nine years of it.

But I can't leave it there.

I have to say that I'm a better person because of my relationship with Hubster. While it seems surreal that we've already reached this point in our marriage, looking back, I feel that I've always known him. Sometimes, I feel that I've even rewritten my pre-Hubster memories to include him.

I'm a braver person because of Hubster. There are so many things I wanted to do, but I don't think I would have done any of them before, because the thought of doing them alone was terrifying. Now, no matter what I end up doing, I know that I won't do it alone. That thought alone gives me courage.

Thanks, Hubster (even if you don't read this.) Thank you for coming along in this journey with me. I couldn't ask for a better travel partner.

The Smarter One

Monday marked a huge milestone in our house.

Hubster took the DAT (Dental Admission Test), the first huge hurdle in going to dental school.

Actually, the biggest step on this journey was the decision to go down this path at all.

Hubster was one of the top students in his high school, receiving a scholarship to a local college. But he couldn't stand the community and area, so he moved away from home to Salt Lake City. Instead of going to college right away, as his mother hoped, he worked odd jobs and then started doing construction, framing houses.

Being the incredibly smart person he is, it didn't take him long to realize that without education, he could possibly spend the rest of his life framing houses.

He enrolled in the local community college and started to work on a major in his favorite subject from high school: Physics.

Along the way, we met, got married, had kids, moved eleventy billion times, etc, etc, etc. Through all this, Hubster stayed in school, eventually transferring from the community college to the state university I was attending.

It took him nearly 9 years, but he eventually graduated with a double major in math and physics. Only to be met with the question of "What now?" Everyone who knew us asked what you could do with a math and physics major, what Hubster was interested in, what now?

And Hubster didn't know. He liked his current job, but there wasn't a lot of room for upward mobility without a PhD.

I always suggested, he being the smarter, more outgoing one of us, that he should go to medical school. His reply to that? "Oh yes. You look so happy."

Touche.

And then some how, over a conversation over a random dinner, the idea of dental school came up. And it was like a light went off. He immediately enrolled back in school to complete some prerequisites.

Did you read that? After NINE years of college, he enrolled in school again!!

When I tell people that Hubster is going to dental school, they grin. "You're right," they say. "He is smarter than you."

And for the last 5 months, he has been studying intensively for the DAT, needing great scores to have a chance at getting in. (Not that we (meaning I) have any doubts.)

How Hubster had looked for the last 5 months

It's been a trying time for us. I've been working 80 hours weeks with 30 hour shifts, while he's spent nearly every day since January over textbooks and review books. And I'm pretty sure this was the easy part of the process.

Hubster took the DAT Monday. (After he tossed and turned all night and then woke up at 3:45 am, too nervous to sleep.)

He came home with a huge grin on his face.

And this is part where I get to brag about my husband. That studying completely paid off, with a composite score in the 99th percentile.

He really is the smarter one.

I'm so proud of him. Not only has he supported me through my aspirations and trials, but he has continued to pursue his own dreams, despite all the crazy looks from his friends and family that he is still in school over 15 years after graduating high school. I'm glad that I now have the chance to support and cheer him on.

And he has promised to finally clean up all the papers on his side of the bed.

Who are you, and what have you done with my husband?

Hubster is in the process of making blonde brownies as I type this.

I'm still not sure what parallel universe I'm in at the moment.

When we moved to Iowa, it meant that Hubster had to quit his research and development job. We talked about him getting another job while I did residency, but decided, at least for the time being, it would be best for our family if he stayed home with the boys.

So my double-math-and-physics-major-7-years-construction-working-dental-researching-hard-working husband became a stay at home dad.

It was a tough transition.

The first two months were fine. It felt like a vacation to Hubster. But then the reality that the house needs taking care of and meals need to be cooked and children need to be tucked in bed began setting in. The reality that these things need to happen every day is still setting in.

Hubster is the oldest of a family consisting primarily of boys. A lot of boys. He left home at the age of 18 without knowing how to cook, sort laundry, or clean a toilet. Okay, maybe he did know all that stuff at one time and just forgot along the way. I'm not sure. By the time I met him, he had been a bachelor for 6 years.

And he wasn't one of those bachelors with a sexy bachelor pad, who discussed imported versus domestic beers and had a few recipes hiding up his sleeve which he pulled out to impress girls. No, Hubster was a bachelor who ate Mountain Dew and Skittles for breakfast and kept Taco Bell in business for the other meals. The only furniture he had were things people had given to him when they came over and felt sorry that the guy had no place to sit and was sleeping on the floor.

Yes, and I fell for him hard.

During our marriage, I've been the one who does the majority of meal preparations. I would say all, but Hubster did occasionally put frozen pizza in the oven and he made very delicious fluffy mashed potatoes. Which he did about twice a year.

This was the extent of Hubster's domestic skills when he made the transition from sole source of income to stay at home dad.

In July, I woke up from a post call nap to Hubster grinning ear-to-ear, telling me dinner was ready. I groggily wondered downstairs to find the table beautifully set, and Hubster serving homemade gnocchi. Gnocchi is probably my favorite food of all times. Right behind seasonal Peeps. And Hubster, as a suprise, had made gnocchi from scratch. It was divine.

We went right back to our routine of frozen pizza and burritos. It's been that way for months.

But the last several weeks, things have been strange here.

I came home to Hubster making snickerdoodles last week. He made a vegetable chicken casserole the week before that. Two nights ago, we had hot apple crisp with vanilla ice cream. And tonight, blonde brownies.

We're sitting down to lunch of taco salads (that he also made) when he comments he found a great recipe for Navajo fry bread and can't wait to make Navajo tacos.

He doesn't complain when I watch Food Network. In fact, he says, "Well, that's not what I would do. I'd try a soup instead," when we watch Chopped.

His inner domestic goddess...god?...hero?...has been discovered.

The smell right now is almost overpowering. My mouth is watering. But I'm still wary. I may wake up at any moment or realize it's 1955 and the space-time-continuum has been disrupted.

Who is this guy, and what has he done with Hubster?