My New Obsession

Asian Cooking.

Since our move in June, my taste buds have decided that the most delicious food on the planet is Asian food. Curry, Rice, Thai food, Noodles bowls...Oh, may the Heavens open up and swallow me whole! I can't get enough. It is all I want to eat these days. And I have entered on a new quest to figure out how to make them.

I have gone to a local Asian Market and invested in new ingredients to me, including fish sauce, oyster sauce, rice vinegar, fried shallots, chile paste, Srirache sauce (my favorite!), sesame oil. I have a pile of recipes to try. I have had some successes, some failures. I have tons to learn. And I'm totally intimidated by what may be the most simple thing in the world, but seems to be an incomprehensible mystery: Asian Noodles.

If you've shopped at an Asian market before, you have seen the vast quantities and varieties of noodles they sell. It is truly impressive! Package after package of noodles that are slightly different from each other, but since I don't read their languages, I can't figure out what makes them different, or how exactly to find the one kind of noodle that is specified in a recipe. I definitely don't know enough about them to know how they will behave in a recipe, so I certainly can't blindly choose something out of the masses.

I asked for help, and the kind owner of the shop led me to all the different kinds of noodles I needed. I purchased some dried Chinese egg noodles. I have never cooked them before, and so when I got home and started making dinner, I read these Engrish instructions (click on the picture to make it big enough to read):

It made me laugh. I clearly have a lot to learn about this.

***And while we're on the topic, if you have a favorite Asian recipe that makes your mouth sing, please share it with me! I'd love to add it to my repertoire.

Unreasonable Expectations

Spiff went off to work in the ICU this Saturday morning, leaving the house at 6:30 to ride his bike to work. He will probably return home tonight after 8:00 pm. He is working 13/14-hour shifts both Saturday and Sunday this weekend. This is after a week of 7pm-9am night shifts.

I mention this because, after he left this morning, I got up and read this status on a friend's facebook status:

"if grocery stores, restaurants, movie theaters, sporting events, and gas stations can serve the public on the weekends with out raising their rates, why can't doctors' offices? Seriously, they should staff-up 7 days a week, and evenings too. Because we all know that's when kids like to get sick."

I had to fight really hard to keep myself from posting a snippy, irritated comment in response. And in the end, I couldn't help myself from defending the doctors. I mentioned that doctors do work on the weekends, and they are do work around the clock in hospitals. I also mentioned that they are available at urgent-care and ER facilities. Her response was that doctor's weekend options are too expensive, so they should open their clinics on weekends and evenings at a normal rate.

In my opinion, expecting doctors to be available in their clinics at all times at normal rates is unreasonable. Should we expect plumbers, electricians, computer technicians, and all other professions to work around the clock, without overtime pay, just in case we need them? I don't think so.

Besides the fact that there are often weekend option available, I think it is important to think about the lifestyles of those providing services before demanding that they are available for our every whim.

What do you think?

Yumm!

I lived in Eugene, OR for five years. I fell in love with it for many reasons, a few of which are these:

• Our great family and friends.
• The coast, just a 45-minute beautiful drive away.
• Blackberries growing wild on every road side.
• Green, Green Everything
• Bike and running paths to take you anywhere you want to go.
• Ducks Football
• And last, but not least, Café Yumm!

Sweet Mhana just brought me this extra large bottle of Yumm! sauce:

I made bi-monthly trips to this eatery while I lived there, and I deeply miss it. This sauce is amazing, and unfortunately for me, perishable. I can order it online, but it has to be constantly refrigerated, making it way out of my shipping price range. I even tried to make it last year by replicating the secret recipe from knock-off recipes online. The result looked good but tasted far from accurate, and far from satisfying. Now, I almost feel like I have a bottle of pure, edible gold sitting in my fridge.

I can't wait to dig into my homemade version of this deliciousness!

Café Yumm! is a small chain with locations in Portland, Bend, Corvallis and Eugene, OR. Check it out if you're ever in the area. It is so very very delicious!

Vacation Crazies

The boys and I visited my parents last week. It was a glorious vacation. We didn't do much but sit around my mom's house and play with her toys. It was so nice for me because I didn't have my own chores to do, no mountains of laundry, not my own kitchen to clean, not my bills to pay or errands to run. I was free to simply play with my kids. And my mom fed my baby during dinner every day. I even got a couple naps while I was there. It was a real vacation for me, although we did miss Spiff, who was working like a dog at the horse-pistol.

We returned late in the evening a couple days ago and dumped our vacation on the floor before falling into bed. We woke up in the morning to company (so fun to have Spiff's mom and sister in town!) and a day off for Spiff, which made for a fun-filled day and weekend.

Then today, I attempted to clean up the vacation that was still on the floor from two days ago. So much cleaning to do! Bills, errands, etc. Not to mention the fact that I have yet to make it to the grocery store since before I left on my trip a week and half ago. Seriously, how do people recover from vacations?

And then there are the children. Good heavens, the children! Both of them have spent the past 36 hours crying, whining, or complaining constantly. The baby refuses to sleep at night these days. I need someone to please remind him that he is not, in fact, a newborn, and does not need to eat three times a night! I'm sleep-training now (for real this time), and it's so miserable. He cries and is awake all night, so he's tired and cranky all day. This night-waking thing is baffling us. It could be just a phase, could be separation anxiety. A lack of self-soothing skills. Teething. Tummy problems. Who knows. But it's exhausting me.

And Gunner, since we got home, refuses to believe that he can entertain himself. He seriously has seemed to lose all ability to do anything on his own. I guess all that extra love and attention he got from me and his grandparents was the absolute wrong thing to do on vacation. Next time we should all completely ignore him.

Plus, he has developed this attitude. I have heard that it's common for three-year-olds to become bossy. Boy, is he bossy. And rude. He told me today, while I was snuggling him and reading him a book, that he wanted me to "shut my mouth."

That's when I put all of his favorite toys on an indefinite time out. He has to earn them back by being nice to me and by doing nice things.

That'll teach him to be rude to his momma!

Oh, boy.

It's just vacation detox, right? Right?! A few days of regular schedule, food and sleep patterns will calm them both down. Right? Please tell me we'll all start getting along again. Please tell me that the vacation crazies will go away. Soon.

I may never go on vacation again.

Nothing to Report

I have posted in a few weeks because I haven't come across anything I felt blog-worthy in a while. We have had a month of nothing to report, other than this stuff:

I am still struggling with that darn oven! Since the banana bread, it ruined yet another loaf of pear bread (I decided to give up on that one), and it burned a blueberry pie. An oven thermometer has just moved up to the top of my shopping list. I don't think I can emotionally continue to try to bake and fail.

I ran a half marathon on Saturday with all my siblings and two of my siblings-in-law. This has been a tough training program for me this time around because Spiff has been so busy, and I haven't been able to rely on him to watch the kids. I also haven't been well rested because of my young baby who has decided not to sleep much these days. Because of this, my goal going into the Half was just to finish.

Then two days before the event, I decided that I felt really good after all, and I was going to try to PR. Race day was beautiful, the course was great, and I did, in fact, set a new personal record of 1:58:45, beating my time from 2 1/2 years ago by a whopping 10 seconds. I find myself actually being disappointed for not being even faster, but I have to remind myself that I didn't train for a PR, and I should be happy with my effort. I am grateful for my new running partner, Kalie, who has been there with me stride for stride with jogging stroller in tow, as we pounded the pavement over the past couple months. I am grateful for the friends and family who watched my children so that I could run. And I'm grateful to have had the experience of participating in a distance running event with my family, team SRT. When I started running 13 years ago, I never thought I would see the day when all of my siblings would run with me. I love it!

And also, Spiff and the boys and I have enjoyed some small hikes on Spiff's off days this past month. It has been a nice way to enjoy some family together time. It's free, it's out of the house, and it wears Gunner out completely. We did a 2-mile hike last week where Gunner actually walked 9/10s of the way all by himself! At a steep point in the hike, we told him that we were mountain goats, like the Billy Goats Gruff, and we were going to climb a mountain. It is the first walk we have taken with him in a long time that he didn't complain about being tired.

This is a pretty lengthy, wordy post for having absolutely nothing to say. Thanks for listening to my rambling.
Until next time!

When Your Ego Takes a Hit

I love good food, and I think I'm a decent cook. (Is that a vain thing to say?) In fact, I have been told that food is my love language. Having a baby? Have a family illness? Anyone in your family having surgery? No problem. I'll provide dinner! I'm not great at providing other services for the people I love, but I can usually give food.

I enjoy cooking, and I love baking, especially in the Fall when the weather chills up a bit, and warming up my kitchen with yummy smelling baked goods is just the right thing to take the bite out of the air.

Now, here's the problem. My little house has a lovely, brand spanking new kitchen. The landlords fixed it all up, with new tile floors and new cabinets. It's beautiful! They even installed granite countertops. Problem, you say? It sounds glorious!

The problem is the oven. Right now, I'm wishing they had saved their money on the countertop and bought a new oven. The one in the kitchen is old and unpredictable. I have discovered that I have to set the temperature at least 25 degrees cooler than specified in any recipe. AND I have to bake things for much less time than recommended (think 7 minutes for 11 minute cookies).

Even then, I'm always guessing. I have ended up with crispy cookies (I like 'em soft), dry pear bread (it is HARD to turn pear bread dry), and my latest "creation", this lovely banana bread:

Ouch!

This has a big possibility of having a seriously negative effect on my reputation. I promise that it's the oven's fault. Please don't judge me.

Event Confusion

I think Gunner is a little confused by time and spacial relationships. Today he said the following:

Mommy, will you get my birthday out?

I want to go to Halloween.

My birthday starts on Wednesday.

On an unrelated note, and in honor of Liz Lemon (although he has never seen an episode of 30 Rock), he has said, entirely unprompted, and on many occasions, "I want to go to there."

Me too, Gunner. Me too.

Wild Goose Chase

Hobbes is a puker. Anyone who has been around him has either been repelled by his constant state of wetness, or baptized by a large volume of baby vomit. All babies spit up, but his puking seems excessive, although it doesn't seem to bother him. It bothers me with the extra laundry I have to do, and the fact that he has ruined my carpet! I brought it up with his doctor at his 6-month check-up, and he prescribed a reflux medication, Prevacid (Lansoprazole), in pill form. We were to administer it by crushing it up and mixing it with some baby food.

Keep in mind that Hobbes is only 7 months old, and at the time we got the prescription, he had been eating solid foods for exactly one day. Getting him to swallow enough of it to be effective has been challenging, if not absolutely futile.

It hasn't been working, or doing anything at all, from our perspective. My carpet is still consistently being doused by little wet orange blobs of vomit.

Spiff mentioned that the medication could be formulated into a liquid format for easier administration, so I called the doctor's office to see if we could get that done. Piece of cake, said the nurse. She'd call it in to the pharmacy of my choice.

I chose the Costco pharmacy close to my house, and because a series of unfortunate events, I was unable to go pick it up for about 6 days. At the end of my shopping trip, I checked at the pharmacy. They said they hadn't filled it because they didn't have Hobbes's name/info in the system. I gave it to them and left, to pick it up another day, feeling guilty that Hobbes still didn't have his medicine.

The Costco pharmacy called me back later that day to say that they couldn't fill the prescription because it had to be "compounded" and needed to go to a compound pharmacy that could do it.

Slightly frustrated and quite confused as to what that means (although Spiff said, "Yeah, I thought that might be a problem.), I called the recommended pharmacy. They were super helpful, and all they needed was the number of the Costco pharmacy so they could get the script transfered.

New Compounding Pharmacy called back a few minutes later to tell me that Costco didn't have the script. I was confused because I had talked to them two days earlier, and they said they had it, but hadn't filled it yet. New Compounding Pharmacy then called the doctor's office to get a new script.

The Doctor's Office called a few minutes later to say that they needed to call New Compounding Pharmacy, but they didn't have the correct phone number.

New Compounding Pharmacy called several hours later to say that the new prescription was ready. The pharmacist said that Costco had lost the script, and she was confused as to why Costco couldn't fill it because it wasn't something that needed to be compounded.

It was, in fact, a pill.

Seriously?!

I wonder how or if this pill is any different than the one we already have. I also wonder where the confusion was in the first place. Yikes!

She said that it was something I can dissolve in a liquid and give to him in some water (which he doesn't drink) or his bottle (which he doesn't use because he is breastfed). Eventually, she understood that I would need a container and a syringe in order to dissolve the pill in a small amount of water and give it to him via syringe.

This sure is a lot of work for some reflux that doesn't seem to bother him. I'll pick up the prescription tomorrow, and then we'll finally be able to give this new medicine a try. I also sure do hope that it's the end of the story.

Small Things

Just a few things Gunner did today that made me laugh. I had to share:

#1:

Gunner: Can I have one of your cupcakes?

Me: Yes, as long as you give me a big hug and tell me that you love me and that I'm your favorite momma in the whole big world.

Gunner: I love zjew. I'm your big momma in the world favorite whole now.

#2: (while Spiff was attending the Tour of Utah with a buddy who picked him up from our house)

Gunner: Did Daddy go to a bike race? Who's his friend?

Me: That was Daddy's friend Sean.

Gunner: Sean the Baptist?

And #3: Here's what has been keeping Gunner entertained the past couple days. These are motorcycles made out of playdough (my handiwork. Aren't I artistic?). His hands are the riders, and they had to have helmets. I wish you could hear the dialogue that goes with it. I think I'm almost as entertained by it as he is.

Did he make you smile?

As Requested

I have had a couple requests to explain the "Magic Pooping Toy." So here's an explanation, and then I promise to stop talking about poop.

My dear friend, Pulcheria, gave this advice as a comment to a previous post. (Pulcheria, I hope it's okay with you that I'm reposting it here.)

"The pooping was my biggest stress too! And Beemer had issues. She would hold it until we put a diaper on her at night for a long time. Or have accidents like you are dealing with. AT finally made her a poopoo necklace that she could wear on the potty. It was a magic necklace that would help her poop when she needed too (it was really just a button on a string) and it worked! So our suggestion is a new car that he can hold or some article of clothing he can wear only on the potty that is magic. Oh, and a diet coke for you!"

Like I said, she and her husband are brilliant. I think this type of insight is a rare and beautiful thing.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

Yessir, things are changing around our little household. Here's what's happening:

First of all, Spiff started his intern year doing outpatient internal medicine. It's definitely not his favorite thing to do, but the schedule was glorious. Mon-Fri, 8-5:00, with weekends and holidays off. I knew it wouldn't last, and I told myself I knew what was coming, but I don't think I was emotionally prepared for how difficult his new inpatient medicine schedule would be. He leaves the house at 5:30 in the morning and doesn't get back until 9:00 on most nights. We knew going into this internship that it would be hard. We knew that the interns at his hospital work hard, and I told myself I was prepared for all the single-mothering I would be doing. I think I told myself a big fat lie, and that nothing really could prepare me for having him gone through the boys' breakfast, lunch, dinner and bedtime almost every day of the week. We miss him.

Second, we got our huge Double Bob jogging stroller (thank you for the delivery, Spiff's Mom!), and because of Spiff's awesome schedule, I have been taking my kids running with me. The stroller is great and handles like a dream, but it's still so so so hard pushing an extra 70 pounds of stroller and children while I run. It's a totally different kind of workout, physically and emotionally, but I'm grateful to have the option.

Also, I started running with my neighbor. For two days now, we have packed up our kids and taken them with us. It's nice to have the company, and I'm glad to have a new friend and a great way to get to know her better.

Third, I decided that it's time to start sleep training Hobbes. He's 6 1/2 months old, and up until this point, he slept like a dream. I could just swaddle him up, give him a binkie, put him down, and he'd be out like a light. He still sleeps well at night, but this week, he has been refusing his naps. I remember this point when Gunner was a baby when we realized that what had been working for us (which was rocking him to sleep) wasn't working anymore. It was time to sleep train.

Like most mothers, I have such a hard time sleep training my babies because it's so very difficult to hear them cry. I second guess myself all the time, wondering if he's hungry, cold, wet, poopy, or if there's something else I should have done to prepare him for sleep. This morning, he cried for 40 minutes, and the whole time I said my mantra to myself, "He will eventually go to sleep. He will eventually go to sleep." And I have to remind myself that it's the best thing for him to learn how to comfort himself and go to sleep. It's a valuable skill, and he needs to learn it, even though hearing my sweet, easy-going little baby cry makes me want to scratch holes in my window with my fingernails.

And last, but not least, I'll update you all on Gunner and the pooping. We have both been really frustrated. We stayed home from Sacrament Meeting on Sunday so that he could poop. It took the whole hour for success. He has been asking for diapers and telling me that it's too hard. Thank you for your advice and suggestions. Pulcheria, I have a "magic pooping toy" on my shopping list for the day. I think you're brilliant.

And now I have a triumphant story to tell. Brace yourselves, folks because this is amazing! This morning while I was stuck on the couch nursing Hobbes, I asked Gunner to go to the bathroom to wash his hands. I heard the water go on and off, but Gunner didn't come out of the bathroom. I didn't know what he was up to, and I nervously waited until he finally called out to me, "Mommy, I made some logs! Come here and see!"

Yep, my little boy went poop in the potty All. By. Himself. He decided he had to go, pulled down his pants, positioned his step stool and the toilet seat, and pooped without any assistance at all! I almost cried out of joy and pride. I really hope that this good experience is the turning point for him, and that he'll finally have the confidence to conquer this hurdle for good. Go Gunner Go!!!

Practice Makes Perfect

Right?

I'm sure you're all tired of me posting about potty stuff, but it's on my mind, so this is what you get. If you don't want poop stories, feel free to skip this one.

Gunner really is doing well with the peeing. He's not 100% dry overnight, but he does okay. He hasn't really had any accidents during the daytime at all, since the first two days. I'm super proud of him for that.

And you all warned me about this next part.

The pooping!

It's horrible! He is about 50/50 on the pooping. Today he pooped his pants. We have had a few poop accidents. Boy, I really do hate cleaning that up. The pooping is the one reason that I waited as long as I did to potty train. I'd much rather change a poopy diaper than poopy pants. Blech.

I'm having a hard time knowing how to react to him about it. Today we worked for over an hour with him because he had to poop. He told us, so we rushed him to the potty, and then he immediately hopped off saying, "I can't. I can't." It was on and off the potty, coaching the pushing, reading books, pleading, bribing, etc. For over an hour! And we got a teeny tiny little poop out of it. I knew he had more, but he just couldn't do it then.

So he pooped his pants later.

I find myself getting mad at him, and later wonder why I can't show him more empathy. I think the reason is that I don't want him to ever think it's okay, so I scold, I take toys away, I don't offer treats, I make him clean up, and I tell him how disappointed I am. Negative consequences to hopefully entice him to use the potty next time.

It's just so frustrating because I know he is more than capable of figuring this out. He has done it before, and now he's acting all afraid of it. I do realize that there's a learning curve to figuring out those bodily urges. I guess I just have to remember that he's still new at it. The first day of potty training, he peed 20 times. If he could poop 20 times in one day, he'd be a seasoned pro at that, too.

Any advice out there for how to handle the poop training?

Potty Star

That's my kid! He is a potty champ! Who knew?! He was 100% ready and has exceeded my highest expectations. I am seriously so proud of my little boy.

I would recommend the Potty Boot Camp, based on my one experience using it, even though I didn't stick completely to it. I used it as a guideline, and I think it was really helpful for Gunner. The book recommends feeding the kid lots of salty snacks and fluids throughout the day, and then taking them to the potty every 20 minutes. I did that, and he peed 20 times that day. 20 times! That's a lot of practice using the potty. He was a seasoned pro at it by the end of the day. He was also very very tired of using the potty by the end of the day, and if there's one negative about the program, it is that it can burn a kid out on peeing. Every time the potty timer went off in the evening, I'd say, "It's time to go potty!" And he would say, "No! I'm done peeing!"

The book then recommends continuing potty intervals over the next several days, starting at 30 minutes and working your way up to and hour or so. I could tell that Gunner couldn't have handled another intense day of timed peeing, so I decided to back off of him, and just take him every hour or so. He only had one big accident. And he successfully went #2 on the potty twice the second day! I think that's a huge success!

Also, the nighttime thing was sort of solved for us. We decided to put a diaper on him for overnights, and when we went to get him ready for bed, he said, "No. I wear underpants now." So we shrugged our shoulders, and nervously put him to bed in his underpants. He got up a couple times to pee in the middle of the night, and woke up (almost) dry. Last night, he went the whole night dry! I couldn't have been more proud of him this morning!

We ventured out to our first public place yesterday. I took him to the library for about a half hour. I took him to the bathroom before we left the house, and then I told him that the library also has a potty. We went in, picked out our books, checked them out, and then he ran down the hall shouting, "I have to use this potty!" So we did. I was so proud of him for self-initiating that one, and especially for telling me about it and having a public potty success.

So, he's doing great. And besides one small incident this morning in which he hid in his bedroom closet so that he could poop his pants (thankfully I caught him in time to get him to the bathroom with a stern reminder that "poop goes in the potty!!!!!"), I'd say that he's almost there.

I am under no delusion that our work is done. I'm sure that it has just started. But at least it has been a good start. I also think that it has been a good bonding experience for the two of us. I spent a lot of time just playing with him this week, besides working with him and praising him for all of his successes. I think it has been good for his confidence, and it has been good for me to put some trust in him, give him some responsibility, and see him accomplish some really big goals.

Lord, Give Me Strength

I'm going to start potty training Gunner tomorrow. It's time. He's ready.

I'm not.

I'm pretty stinkin' terrified of this milestone. I'm scared of the messes, the constant checking, the accidents, going out in public afterwards. I don't know what to do about overnights. But I'm mostly scared of the fights.

Spiff reminds me not to let it become a fight. But I know my son. He's stubborn, and he's a fighter. And we haven't been getting along very well lately, and my patience is already worn thin. I'm praying that I will be upbeat, positive, and always patient with him as he learns this new trick.

I decided to go with the Potty Boot Camp Method. It's supposed to teach the kids how to use the potty in just a day or two, with lots and lots of follow-up maintenance, of course. I like the idea of a quick and dirty get-it-done method. I have heard a lot of success stories using this method. I'll let you know how it goes. I'm sure you're dying to know.

On the plus side, Gunner is super excited about his Cars, Incredibles and Thomas the Train underpants. I think they will be a great motivator. I'm also looking forward to all the new toys. It's like potty training and Christmas all wrapped up in one stressful, messy little package.

Now I'm off to prepare. I'm making a sticker chart, wrapping little presents, and getting lots of bribes easily accessible. Wish me luck.

***And for My information, what did you do with your kids over night? Diapers? Pull-ups? Cold turkey underpants?

Reverse Sunset

This is our view from our front porch tonight. Not bad, huh?

All The Water

We arrived at the beginning of June and were surprised to find the mountains still covered in snow. We had been told that it was a super snowy winter, but it was pretty amazing to see it for ourselves. Before Spiff started working, we drove up one of the canyons to do a hike with our kids which had been advertised online as "the most child-friendly hike in the area," around a little lake complete with boardwalk. When we got there, we found the trail completely covered in three feet of snow. Crazy!

I thought the trip up the canyon was still worthwhile, though, because of all the water. The creek that runs down the canyon is an all-out river. Check out these rapids!

Impressive, no? You wouldn't want to go swimming in that. I wish we had gotten a picture of some of the random waterfalls caused by the run-off. So beautiful!

Also, the boys and I also just returned from a camping trip new Yellowstone Park. I have never seen the area so green and so much water in the reservoirs and so many wildflowers. It looked like a different area of the country than the drought-condition campsites I grew up with. Truly so very very beautiful!

Take a Deep Breath

Okay, so Spiff Graduated. We moved. We can breathe a sigh of relief now that medical school is over. We made it through that huge hurdle! Go us! We also made it through the move, and we're mostly settled into our new little house.

And now we can take another deep breath as we go into this week and the year that follows. Spiff started his intern year today. We have to steel ourselves for a very difficult year, followed by another move, followed by residency.

Okay. Breathe. We can do this.

A few thoughts:
I miss familiarity. I miss knowing where things are, down to the items in the grocery store.
I miss my friends. Boy, do I ever miss my friends.
I miss my running partners. I'm running alone now.
I miss my oh-so-familiar running route.

I don't miss the humidity. Dry heat rocks! I love love love this climate!
I don't miss my ancient windows. I have been sleeping with an open window, just because I can.
I don't miss pushing a make-shift bathtub around our house (our apartment only had a shower stall). Having a bathtub in our house has never felt so novel.

I'm grateful to be in a place where I know people. I love having my sisters and nieces right down the road from me. I love spending time with my favorite cousin. I love it that some of our good medical school friends live a mile away from us. I am lucky to have such a good community of people during this transition year. It would be so lonely without them. I need to remind myself to take advantage of it and make the most of it every day of this year.

So, I'm going to take a deep breath, say a whole lot of prayers, and gear myself and my family up for a lot of hard work.

Wish me luck.

Blubbering Mom

Tonight during storytime, Gunner said "Yellow" clear as day. I almost cried when I realized that it is no longer "Lellow."

He made up for it by mixing up the "p" in "pitch" for a "b." And he still can't say "truck," and he still loves to "crap" his hands.

I love his little lisp. The way he says "Yesth" when he answers a question. I love they way his speech is developing. Spiff and I laugh every day about they way he pronounces things. I love his "Nocaners" (binoculars), "Newdavard" (boulevard), "Ephalant" (elephant), "crose" (close), "Fopped" (dropped), "Wink" or "Vrink" (drink).

I'll admit that I wish away certain behaviors or behavioral phases. I wish I could skip right over potty training, the rest of his terrible twos, and pretty much every meal time. But when I looked at him the other day, swinging on a friend's rope swing in his little jeans and t-shirt, and he looked like such a big kid, and when I realize that he has his own little opinions and that he has the right to voice them, and that he has the right to a good explanation about what's going on because he's old enough to understand, I can't help but wish that he would just stop growing up. That he would just be my little guy forever.

And if I cry at "Yellow," what am I ever going to do on his first day of school?

Mortification Moment.

Every parent has them. Those moments when you want to crawl under a rock because of something your dear sweet progeny has just perpetrated. Today in church, Gunner had just sucha moment. He is only two and half, so his speech isn't flawless. He still substitutes sounds in words. "Truck" for instance is prounounced with an 'F' instead of a 'T'. Similarly, c-l sounds are pronounced c-r. So, imagine my dismay when Gunner who was clapping in church, responded to my shushing him by yelling at the top of his voice "I love crapping, Daddy!"

-SS

A strange symmetry

Medical schools typically begin their first year curriculum with gross anatomy. Whether or not there is any actual pedagogical value in this is uncertain, but it is nevertheless true. I think that mostly this is the case because gross anatomy serves not only to teach the geography of the human body, but also to accustom medical students to death. After dissecting, cutting, scraping, sawing, and otherwise exposing a cadaver for several months, we became very comfortable with the dead bodies donated to science by their former owners.

Oddly enough, my medical school experience has come full circle. I finished the year in the city medical examiner's office. Every body that was found under suspicious circumstances, with drug paraphenalia, signs of violence, under the age of 50, or unexpectedly came to our office. These were bodies donated unwittingly. An autopsy is not quite as invasive as a dissection performed by a medical neophyte. Typically, a Y-shaped incision is made from the clavicles, joining at the sternum, and proceeding to the umbilicus. The internal organs are removed, and the incision is sewn back up. The skull is also opened to remove the brain, but again, the wound is re-approximated and sewn shut. Oddly, the cranial vault is filled with rolled up newspaper so that the bone flap and skin can be sewn shut for improved cosmesis. I imagine in 500 years, when some archeologist is digging around our fair city, they'll stumble across these skeletons and will find traces of Doonesbury or the Classifieds still in the skull. Imagine the conclusions they'll draw. But I digress. The body, after an autopsy, is still mostly intact, whereas after a medical student dissection, it is anything but.

After 4 years of medical training, I am comfortable touching a dead body, or a live one. That having been said, I am apprehensive about my upcoming internship. Gone will be the protective cloak (both legal and figurative) of being a student. Now my orders will count and notes will matter. It's odd to think that with regards to my body of medical knowledge, nothing is going to change significantly in the next 4 weeks, yet after May 21, I can legally call myself Doctor.

Also, I want my head stuffed with the Far Side, Calvin and Hobbes, Doonesbury, and Pearls Before Swine. That oughtta keep those archeologists guessing.