It's my tuRN

Henry got a splinter last week.

(my first thought was, I wonder where he got that? When I reviewed our day it went something like this...played outside in the sandbox near the wooden frame of the herb garden, used the garden rake and shovel to plant bulbs, played at our neighbor's house with a wooden swing, jumped on her tampoline, used sticks as toys, etc. Finding the culprit for said splinter would be hard to pinpoint during one afternoon's adventure.)

Henry lingered between two opposing schools of thought after discovering the splinter. "Fix it! But don't TOUCH it, Mama!" The doctor kit came in handy for debriefing after Papa removed the splinter. George got the job because 1. he's very good at it and 2. he wouldn't have Grant to entertain while attempting the procedure.

Henry was able to remove the multitude of splinters that Papa and I acquired during our evening meal. Each time assuring us that "it won't hurt at all. Doesn't that feel better?" Grant caught on quickly to some physical assessment skills, as well. No matter what tool Grant has in his hand, just open and say "ah" and he'll shove some medical equipment down your throat (note the reflex hammer being used as a tongue depressor below). He's very thorough.

Speaking of medical equipment, physical assessment, and procedures. I started my new job last week. (surprise, stay-at-home mom joins the work force!) That's right, in an effort to continue some attempt at balancing my life (remember my Lenten journey?) I have obtained a VERY part time job to allow for some professional development, adult conversation, and a few hours during the week where no one will call me mommy.

It's a RN triage position at an urgent care clinic. I'll work 4-10pm every other Monday night, and on the off weeks I'll try to pick up a per diem shift. Think headset phone calls, computer scheduling, and a few IV starts. For now it keeps my foot in the door (or, just a toe, given the number of committed hours) and provides a few hours of respite from the kids. Last week I did a full week of orientation, so George was home with the boys during his week of vacation, being Mr. Mom. Our role reversal was truly "walking a mile" in each other's shoes, so more stories to come about our revelations.

A first birthday

Recipe for a successful birthday:
Take one small boy, and feed him his favorite dinner. Spaghetti and meatballs.

Bring on the cake.

Light it on fire.

Let him have his cake, and eat it, too.

Throw in a few new toys.  (Try to restrain the older sibling).  Try.

Then sit back and laugh.

And marvel at the passing of ONE year, one trip around the sun. One small, yet great big boy. Oh, Grant...One!?!

help in outdoor garden

a visit to what Grampa has dubbed "the orange man store"
fun had by all boys...
time at home had by Momma

Happy Easter!

Happy Easter!! He is Risen, Alleluia!

We have been on spring break, enjoying a little nice weather between the rainy days.

The boys were quite excited for the Easter Bunny this year. He arrived in the nick of time, but next year he's going to have to be one spry and early riser bunny to stay ahead of these two (and the squirrels that started looting the egg hunt goodies). It took Grant about 2.2 seconds to figure out that his basket had chocolate in it. And he WANTED SOME NOW! 

(as he stood there screaming and watching Henry get his candy open to start munching). 

  

Holidays are always more fun with family. Meme stayed with us for part of spring break.

Grant is completely satisfied after finding an egg for each hand

Henry raced around like a madman collecting eggs

 I feel I should give a little follow up after my last catharsis of a post. I do feel better. I was able to get a few things crossed off the "to-do" list, exercised a little, and George and I got a real date night. (Our last date night we were both feeling too ill to actually do anything or eat much -- we sat at a coffee shop commiserating and sipping peppermint tea to soothe our stomachs).  This time, we enjoyed some good food and live music. (YIPPEE!!)

Crazy

We are wrapping up our 6 weeks of craziness (I mean, it's sort of regular for residency, but just like Wenckebach heart block, described as "regularly irregular", it doesn't make it normal. Or effective).  

As a tangential thought, have I been out to lunch for some time now? Last year when we went through George's interview process for full time, regular ol' doctor positions, it really hit me. You know. He'll be a doctor. (Forgive me. He is already, but I forget). I mean the lifestyle of this chosen profession. You know. There will be patients. There will be patients admitting to the hospital for acute illness, babies born at any hour day or night, and clinic notes, and extended office hours. All of this sort of crashed down on me. Like our current situation wasn't exactly just practice. Slightly more magnified during residency, but all the same, it was the way it was. Not just hazing. Not just for the fun of it. True to life stuff (or so I'm told...we're not out of the woods yet). And family medicine doctors are supposed to have a "higher quality of life" than other specialities. (Shh. I realize that's a loaded statement, but if we're talking about time spent with family, I think it would be difficult to dispute). The point is, it hit me. My favorite panicky inquiry of those post-residency is "it gets better, right?! it better be better..."

So back to the 6 weeks.

2 weeks of George being in Honduras, 4 weeks of George in the USA...MIA in the MICU. Overnight call at the hospital included. And here we are on his LAST NIGHT OF CALL for the rotation. And, quite possibly, his residency. (Ok, there are still the miscellaneous long calls scheduled -- see why I keep asking? there's always hidden call somewhere. People get sick on holidays, weekends, and in the middle of the night for crying out loud). Just when I was really feeling down (sometimes--on this blog especially--no news is not necessarily good news...) and thinking plain old "this sucks." Ever think that depression might be a normal response to circumstances? (I digress, but a while back when I was researching post-partum depression, suggestions for coping were like "take time for yourself, be sure you are getting enough sleep, and eat well and exercise" And I was thinking, "good plan." (too heavy on the sarcasm?)

Well...to go out with a bang...we've had the stomach bug all week. The one that causes poor little children to vomit in their beds in the middle of the night, lie feverishly chilly under coats and blankets while we've had the warmest weather of spring visit our area, and of course, the dreaded river of poo. I won't go into detail. Every parent knows what I'm talking about when you start the diaper change with the shoes. Not yet a parent? Might be time to beef up the birth control. TMI? ok.

6 weeks. Gee, what else has been going on for 6 weeks? That's right. LENT.
(God and his sense of humor would laugh like this right about now... MWUAH HA HA)

In all seriousness, I find the parallelism to be fairly profound. I've been experiencing my own wilderness in the desert. And, yes, I realize there are others out there who "have it worse than me" (ya know, just for future reference, that rarely helps me feel better).

6 weeks of Lent.
This year, for me, it felt a little more like Catholic new years resolutions.
1. I really like our Church, I wanted to get to know more people there, so I joined a Moms group Connections (like bible study). The thing is, they meet Monday mornings. It's a preschool morning. This sacrifice (personal time, anyone?) was actually tougher than I thought. But I have enjoyed the discussions and the new perspective. Wait a minute, I said discussions...that's right. Henry wasn't there to constantly interrupt!

2. Swimming lessons at the YMCA. That's right, no more house arrest after the children are in bed. Monday nights, 7:45pm me at the pool. I was learning how to swim. Though I have a basic understanding of what that means from my handful of childhood lessons, this is like face in the water, back and forth stuff. I'm amazed at how hard it is. I'm amazed at how much water I've choked on. I'm also amazed at how much improvement I've made in so little time.

Congratulations! You've made it to the end of the blog post. If you're still reading and have a coherent thought in your head, you're doing better than I am with my flight of ideas. Anyone know a good doctor to sign the commitment papers? Just kidding.  I do know a good doctor.  And just like everyone else, I have to make an appointment to see him!

Whatever doesn't kill us only makes us stronger, right? And even if it does kill us, we are an Easter people (life after death!).

Whew. And now I'm off to be sure that I'm getting "enough sleep."

April Fools Snow

It's snowing. No fooling.
Some thoughts on a snowy spring day:

1. I think this is going to be a big summer of storing food.  We are quite low on those things that really taste like summer in the middle of winter. As in, there is nothing I've found that comes close to competing with homegrown or homecanned tomatoes, peaches, applesauce, and frozen strawberries (and in turn, strawberry jam batches mid-winter).  We are nearly Old Mother Hubbard.

2. Birthday fun. Its best left to the young. And young at heart (I'm trying to adjust my perspective after a close inspection reveals the number of gray hairs seems to be multiplying like rabbits). Henry and I just returned from a birthday party for his little preschool buddy. We played with playdough, ate popcorn balls, and hid out on bunkbeds (well, that last request was just for Henry to join his friend on his older brother's top bunk. It was definitely a "while the cat's away the mice will play" moment).  My birthday was all about food. Favorites all day (blue cheese walnut burgers with a Sprecher Amber beer, then beet salad for supper, followed by some mighty tasty cheesecake -- even more delightful because I didn't have to make any of it!)

3. Playing outside. More walks. More bike rides. More sandbox time. More playground time. After, of course, the snow melts. Again.

Grant is slow to warm up to swings this spring. Henry is showing him how it works.

"Oh, look what Henry left unattended. I'll just take this out for a spin before he gets back"

The dirty pants: evidence that Grant is one rough and tumble kid.

Honduras

A few words about George's Honduras trip. In brief:

• He was there to learn a procedure (prolotherapy, which is an injection therapy to help people with chronic joint pain). From what I gather, he was pretty busy most of the time he was there, setting up clinic, seeing patients, cleaning up, setting up for the next day, and repeat. So it was not a trip where he experienced a lot of the Honduran culture, unfortunately. 
• His brain kicked into Spanish overdrive. His gut protested with some bouts of traveler's sickness.
• It was hot (80s/90s). And while he's not a huge fan of heat and humidity. It was hard to have sympathy for him. 
• In all honesty, over the last several years of residency and medical school. George is rarely in the reclined and relaxed position.  So it was good to see that he had a few moments all to himself for "reading".

St. Patty's Day

Happy St. Patrick's Day!
We have turned the corner from winter to spring here, I think. After 3 days of 40-50 degree weather, I can see about 50% of the yard again. Golly that's a lot of snow for the winter! (Apparently, a 3rd highest record snow total February for Madison)

Here's to SPRING and GREEN in our life once again! May we successfully navigate the muddy season. Better stock up on laundry detergent, I guess. Two boys who love to be outdoors?! Yep.

Just the 3 of us

Plus a rotating "helper" person...(thanks, Grandma & Aunt Jessica & clover)

George has been in Honduras for two weeks. (details and pics to come)

We've been trying to stay busy, stay in our routine, or just stay sane. Here's how I know it's been hard on Henry, he has several hypotheses about George's whereabouts.

1. We dropped him off at a friend's house to carpool to the Chicago airport. Mistakenly, Henry thought this was Papa's new house. He now asks when we will go see Papa at his new house.

2. Meme stayed with us two weeks before George left. Henry thinks Meme and Papa are in cahoots, enjoying the beach in Boston. We will see them this summer when they come back to visit via the airport.

3. Not exactly related to Papa's location...Henry has randomly suggested that "we are a family" while eating at the table. It was just Mama, Henry, and Grandma seated at the table during that meal. Grant was sleeping, George, of course, wasn't here. Recently, Henry has stated that "we'll have a long sleep, and then Papa will be home." This was with 4 more days to go. Sounds like euthanasia to me, only nicer!?!

So there you have it. The thoughts from a 3 year old about extended trips, and being left behind.

Makes Perfect Sense

A morning conversation with Henry went something like this:

Henry, looking at a little Farm Animal book that belongs to Grant: "Oh, there's a chicken on one page...and an egg on the other.  The egg has a crack."
Me: "Yeah, why does that egg have a crack?"
Henry:  "'Cause the chicken sat on it!!"
Me (laughing): "Well, they're pretty careful when they're sitting on the eggs.  It looks like the baby chicky is trying to hatch."
Henry (a long story about chickens and eggs, and baking, and eating...here's a little of what I remember): "Yeah, the egg will crack and then the yolk will come out and then we'll eat the eggs and the chicken. And the chicken will eat the eggs, too."

I'd wager he's not the only one confused about which eggs are for eating and which are for sitting on. We'll work on that this spring, perhaps.