Tuesday, July 31, 2012

I Sucked in Bed

Fine. I'll admit it. I am a thumb sucker. Well, I was a thumb sucker.

I sucked and sucked and sucked my left thumb until the embarrassingly old age of nine. Every night as I hopped into bed, I would find my thinned-by-love blankie under my pillow and embrace it up to my right cheek. Simultaneously, my left thumb would burrow itself into its warm, cozy home for the night; right in between the palate and tongue of my mouth.

Because our family dentist and my pediatrician gave no indication of any harm being done, my parents were very tolerant of the situation at left hand. I continued to suck and suck and suck throughout my childhood years.

Eventually, as I aged my way through elementary school, the sleep-over invitations began tumbling in. I told my mother I did not want to sleep over. My sucking secret could not be unleashed upon my public persona! At my urging, my mother would politely decline the invitations on my thumb-sucking behalf.

Finally, I received an invitation I could not refuse. My best friend, Ellie, was having a not-to-be-missed sleep over. Everyone at the sleep over was going to experience a thrill many others have NEVER experienced. This was a one night only opportunity! I would never again have another experience like it. It was new, it was rare, it was expensive and I knew my parents would never spend their hard earned dollars on such nonsense. They had bills to pay.

I had to go. 

It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. 

I would never see one again. 

I would never get to touch one again. 

I would never get to play with one again. 

It was awesome. 

It was an Atari.

I needed to put an end to being such a thumb sucker.

The sleep-over was in two weeks. I hatched and forged a rigid schedule to end my sucking days. Every night, after brushing my teeth, I would dip my thumb in some untastey matter: lemon, jalapeno pepper juice, acetone, Tabasco, etc.

Unfortunately, every night, my sucking thumb would still make its way into its cozy home. Clearly, it was telling me, "Suck me."

I needed a road block to inhibit this sucker from finding its way home. So, even before Michael Jackson made his fashion statement, I was the one-gloved wonder. Yet, despite the glove, I sucked.

In complete frustration at all my sucking failures, I found myself flipping over onto my stomach and burrowing my face into my pillow. 

I sucked.

I could not let this habit define me. I could not suck my whole entire life. Knowing this was the time to break the sucking cycle, I took both my hands and jammed them underneath me. 

All night, I slept with both hands weighted underneath my nine-year-old body. 

That night was the first night I didn't suck in bed.



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Monday, July 30, 2012

Lisonopril, Zoloft, and an Eyebrow Pencil, Please

Something's going on. I can't quite put my finger on it, but whole--eee---eff---eee---meee!!! I've been grinding my brain, trying to back track in hopes I can pinpoint where I picked up this bad karma so I can beat it back into submission by whatever means necessary.

Look at this... {excuse the non-professional pics. I was in a state of shock and panic, completely incapable of taking a good photo.}

Don't know what your looking at? Here's a clue...

Still don't get it? Those are GREY eyebrow hairs. I had to pluck them from ONE eyebrow this morning. You get it? Just one eyebrow, not both eyebrows. I pluck everyday, so these suckers sprouted over night.

I need someone to post a DIY eyebrow dying post STAT! Otherwise, it's just a matter of time, before I look like Yang.


Couple this with What My Teen Daughter Stole From Me and I think I need a prescription for either a) Lisonopril or b) Zoloft.

I probably need both...along with an eyebrow pencil.


Sunday, July 29, 2012

Play It Again, Sam, Sunday {The Racks of My Life}

Originally posted on February 24, 2012. This is why I didn't feel it was necessary to speak about my rack in Thursday's post: What My Teen Daughter Stole From Me.


RACKS- a mule hunting calendar
WT????
So, if you happened to see my tweet from Tuesday, you know I started Weight Watchers on Fat Tuesday.   I found myself chuckling at the irony of it all as I pulled up and parked my car.

I really don't have that much weight to lose, but when I became a lifetime member (reached my goal weight for those of you haven't been to WW) back in '06, I promised myself I would go back if I hit a certain weight. I wouldn't call myself fat or skinny. I'm certain my BMI is still under the "normal" category, but my clothes are tight and I refuse to buy larger clothing!

A few weeks ago, I wrote about our upcoming Doctor's Perk trip to Maui. I started a diet that day. It failed. I actually gained a pound. It was probably Valentine's day and all the little pieces of chocolate I like to eat after every lunch and dinner. Hello, my name is Your Doctor's Wife and I am a chocoholic.

For years before I ever stepped into a WW, I always told myself, "As long as my boobs protrude further than my belly, I'm looking good!" That mentality held me over through my 30s. God had blessed me with an ample rack and I used it to its fullest potential. It's main job was to draw the eyes away from the muffin top which resided just underneath it, my fat arms, fat back, and fat chins. If you've figured out how to suck in multiple chins when you say "Cheese", please share with the rest of us!

In my teens and early 20's my rack was comparable to a hat rack or coat rack...hung high. Had I known then, what I know now, I would have ran around naked and showed off my body's fleeting former self. Instead, I covered up as every well-behaved (well, maybe not that well behaved) Catholic school girl is taught to do.

After breastfeeding, they deflated. Then, I found my mantra to be, "Well, they're like a pair of tube socks with golf balls down in the toes, but as long as I can roll them up and set them up in some Victoria's Secret push up cups, I'm fine." That got me through the rest of my 20's.

Well, today, I find my rack more comparable to a shoe rack...on the floor. Sad, but I speak the honest truth. In fact, just the other day I tripped over something on my way to the bathroom in the middle of the night and I'm pretty sure it was over one of the girls.

In my forties, I would love to be able to report I find myself at WW to gain further knowledge about leading a healthy lifestyle and diet, demonstrating maturity and wisdom. Sure, that component is there, but is it truly the motivating factor? Heck, no... I just want hike the girls up and show off as much as a hourglass figure I can suck together by the time I get on that plane to Maui!


Saturday, July 28, 2012

Week In Review

Okay, another week down and here's what went on in this blogland:

Sunday, I pulled from the archives for Play It Again, Sam, Sundays and recounted one of the many times Doc H has had to forgo sleep in the name of the scalpel.

I told you about about Our Afternoon with the Dark Knight on Monday. I wasn't too sure we should see it and felt guilty in the aftermath of the shooting.

Tuesday, I participated in Yeah Write's Summer Writing Challenge {check it out here} and reworked an earlier post: How Facebook Saved My Beep . It gives you insight on why I hate the pager.

On Wednesday, I wanted to share my latest milestone with you and say thank you!

I figured out my teenage daughter has been thieving from me on Thursday. Hence, "What My Teen Daughter Stole From Me" poured out onto the keyboard.

Sounds of the Symphony was posted for your reading pleasure. It's probably not what you think. 

Have another great week, everyone!

Friday, July 27, 2012

Sounds of the Symphony

Source
After an early dinner last night, Doc H and I retired early to the bedroom and both stretched out on our respective sides of the bed with our battery operated devices... the laptop and the iPad.

My stomach began making a series of digestive noises.

In my peripheral vision I saw Doc H turn and look at my stomach as it rumbled away. I knew what was coming...

Doc H: Is that your stomach?
Me: Yes. What do you want me to do about it? (Fully expecting a full press razing from him)
Doc H: My God! It sounds like a symphony!
Me: (Surprised, rubbing his arm nicely and smiling) Awe! Thank you! That was nice and unexpected!
Doc H: (Chuckling)...Not like the good part of the symphony... Like the warm-up... The bad part.

Okay. That's more like it.

Thursday, July 26, 2012

Beware the Cosmetic House Call

Listen up people, most board certified doctors don't do house calls anymore.... and they DEFINITELY don't do cosmetic enhancements in the home.

Read about it here.

What My Teen Daughter Stole From Me

Source
Today, for the first time ever, my high school daughter (D3) and I went to the gym together. There, in the midst of our workout, I realized she had been stealing from me.

The workout began innocently enough; elliptical for me, StairMaster for her. She moved on to legs, while I moved on to abs. As I crunched, she bounced on up and asked if I would spot her as she bench pressed. "Okay" I grunted in between reps which were causing a burn deep within my abs.

I found her at the bench press and there as she laid on the bench with her strong, yet dainty hands grasped firmly around the bar, I began to string the pieces together.

Those dainty, yet strong hands were mine. Feeling a bit sentimental,  I smiled and glanced at my own hands. They were gone. Instead of my own hands, I saw my mother's hands. The corners of my mouth dropped a bit.

I then noticed her smooth, tight, smooth thighs as she pressed the bar up and down. Once upon a time, those thighs were my thighs. Today, mine are almost always covered up, unsightly dimpled and more attractive with an expensive pair of Hudson jeans covering them up. The corners of my mouth dropped even further and my eyebrows began to furrow. {Reminder to self...reconsider your stance on botox.}

Her abs... flat and bikini-ready. Crap! Those were mine, too! Today, I find myself wearing full coverage swimsuits and her baby fat tummy in the form of a muffin top while she's wearing my flat abs. Now, she's beginning to piss me off!

In between sets, D3 gets up to flap her arms around a bit, offering a good view of her backside. Nice, firm, high.

I'll be honest here; I can tell you the exact date my arse fell... April 26, 2007. Getting ready for work that blasted day, I turned in my Tahari suit to give myself a once over in my full-length mirror. My eyes went directly to my bunk-a-gunk and it was not there! I dropped my gaze a few inches, found it and called my best friend to wail about my fallen asset. I eventually got over it and, after serious analysis of others' assets at the mall, I realized my backdrop was still towards to upper end of the bell curve. I could live with that. She hadn't stole all of that.

She finished her sets and despite feeling a little sick to my stomach, I decided to press on and continue with some ab crunches on an exercise ball.

My friends, don't ever do ab crunches on the ball with your knees aimed towards a mirror. As you come up for the crunch, you'll get a view unworthy of even the most notorious serial killer to walk this planet... shins, knees, crotch. Ugh. Completely unpalatable.

I had already begun my set; too late to stop to realign to a more pleasing angle. As I crunched, I noticed in the mirror my yoga pants were baggy and sagging horribly. I continued crunching as I reached to pull them up with one hand. Well, dammit to hell in a Dolce and Gabbana handbag! That wasn't sagging and baggy yoga pants! That was Your Doctor's Wife's saggy and baggy ass!  My daughter stole that, too!

I shudda married someone in plastics.

If you need me, you'll find me with my head in between the weight plate stack of the leg press machine...






Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Little Milestones and Big Thank You's

This past week marked a little milestone for me and this little blog. We are officially 6 months old!  In six months I have posted 176 posts. That number just throws me into a tizzy. I didn't know I had it in me! I love it! 

And you all... my followers and readers leave me flabbergasted with your loyal support of my little blog! When I started writing I figured I'd just be venting to cyberspace....and by space, I mean the black hole of the interwebs. I figured I'd be floating around out there with my space gear on, umbilical cord hooked up to nothing, headed nowhere, maybe just saving a little money on my therapy bills... that's all.  I never thought you'd find me or, in turn, I would make so many new and lovely blog friends! 

In my first six months of blogging, my little blog has gone from zero to 296 followers (GFC, Linky, and email subscribers). Considering my family doesn't know I blog and I could not peddle my blog to them or any of my friends, I am flabbergasted. 

I thank all of you who have me on your side bar, blog lists, blog rolls, and "Blogs I Read". You're continued support warms my heart. 

I have made a wonderful blogging friends all who has supported and encouraged me in one way or another. A special thank you to those friends who have been with me from the very beginning of my blogging life: 
  • Jane at From a Doctor's Wife- because she put me on her blogroll, my first readers found me. I haven't a clue how she found me.
  • Delilah at Confessions of a Semi-Domesticated Mama- my funny friend, who has always been willing to share her blogging knowledge with me, and more importantly, helped me turn frustrations into laughter.
  • Joe at Living In Kellie's World for making me laugh and helping me with the technical side (Google Analytics) of blogging. It always helps to have a Submarine Commander with a Party-Girl Wife on your side! 
  • Red at Red Stethoscope for commiserating and laughing with me at the absurdity of our medical lives. (She's busy studying for boards this month, so be sure to wish her good luck!)
  • Nika at Just Another Tired Mommy for always having my back!
  • No Drama Step Mama- for paddling with me in the step-mama canoe!
I have to thank one other person. Since he doesn't have a blog I can link up to here, I'll have to link up with him later. His unwavering support of this blog, his willingness to be fodder for my public writing purposes goes above and beyond anything we vowed to each other. I don't like to get very mushy in public, but really... SMOOTCHES to my Doc H. He's the bomb.

And, a monster-sized THANK YOU for your continued reading and commenting! You all give me the warm fuzzies!


Tuesday, July 24, 2012

How Facebook Saved My Beep

This post was originally posted on January 22, 2012. Today, after editing and re-working it, I'm submitting it to Yeah Write. Be sure to check out the grid filled with other great blogs.

It’s happened more than once and I’m positive I’m not the only doctor’s wife whose evening plans have been abruptly thwarted by the archaic, high pitched beep of a hospital pager. 
We decided to dine out; a semi-date night. These dinners are not a ‘real’ date night, because we know we may have to flag down the poor wait staff to ask for our dinner to go. A movie is completely out of the question, regardless of how quiet the night seems. We tried a movie once. We ran straight through the lobby, across the parking lot and straight for the car. 
Sometimes, the beep can be satisfied with a phone call; some lengthy in duration, some short and sweet. Other times, we’re allowed to finish our main course, but don’t think of ordering another glass of wine (that’s me, not Doc H) or a dessert, ‘cause he's got to go!
Normally, when the beep brings our life to a unexpected halt, it is an irritation which brings a bout of frustration. Normally, a cognisant round of ‘let’s focus on the positives’ as our car comes to a rolling stop at our driveway as I jump out. 
However, it is when another hospital, where Doc H has privileges, beeps for back-up that leaves me unguarded and ill-prepared. So much so, that one dark night, I found myself sitting outside the main entrance of a hospital as Doc H was inside one of the ORs working on a poor chap. I had already been there over an hour and it was going to be a long wait.  
I know. I know!! I should’ve known! The second I took the curing iron to my hair on a night my husband could possibly be called in, the night was doomed! 
While waiting in the hospital lobby, waiting for Doc H, I took to people watching for awhile. I looked at them and they looked at me. Dressed up in my best date night clothes (you know, the ones that make you look skinnier than you really are, the bra that hoists the girls up and around your neck like a choker, and the shoes that make you look as tall as you possibly can look without falling over), I must have looked like a pitiful case, cause I began to feel uncomfortable and desperate for a way home. Oh, why didn't we drive two cars?!  My wallet didn’t hold enough cash for a cab ride and I wouldn’t dream of paying that much in fare anyway. I grabbed my phone and updated my status. 
“Anyone in the __________ Hospital area and headed North? I could use a ride...now.”
I didn’t expect anything. I threw my phone back in my purse. In less time than it takes to say ‘ruptured abdominal aortic anuerysm’ my phone rang and I had a ride on the way!
Thank you, Mr. Zuckerberg! I treasure you and your little website! You saved my *BEEP*!



read to be read at yeahwrite.me

Monday, July 23, 2012

Our Afternoon with the Dark Knight

I stared at my reflection in the mirror as I brushed my hair. Internally, I was working on conflict resolution.

We shouldn't be going. 
Nothing's going to happen. 
But what if it does?
You will all be just fine.
I don't want to go.
You're going.
Why are we going?
Listen, this is the first movie the entire family wants to see together. Can you remember the last movie you all went to see together as a family? Didn't think so.
A MED STUDENT?
A med student. Smart kids have issues, too.
Neuro??
Neuro... get over it. Put on your happy face and go enjoy time with your family.

I cursed the guy who made me feel such a way. He was ruining our family time. Intruding in our lives and everyone else's life in this nation for that matter.

Begrudgingly, I accompanied the rest of the family to a matinee showing of The Dark Knight Rises. I carefully scanned the packed theater as I found the only 5 seats left open. What was I looking for? Someone dressed in pure black? Someone dressed as the Joker? Someone wearing his or her white lab coat? As I sat in the last block of continuous 5 seats available in the theater, I found myself relieved we were just a few long strides from the emergency exit.

Emma, you're being incredibly ridiculous.
Maybe I am, but that's not stopping me from scanning and making a mental imprint of every person who enters this theater.

I couldn't help but sense the eeriness as the movie began with a funeral scene. Why had I agreed to this? It felt incredibly morbid. Wrong. I thought of all the families who, within days, would find themselves seated in front of caskets. Unnecessary heartbreak. Unnecessary death.

Yet, I sat there, sharing a bucket of popcorn with Doc H and the kids and watched. The movie progressed and we were sucked in the world of the Dark Knight.

When the lights came up, Doc H and I turned to look at each other. I think we were both surprised at the realization we had smiles on our faces. I looked at our kids and they were all smiling. Together, as a family, we walked out of the theater as the kids were laughing and enthusiastically recapping the movie. It felt good.

I was relieved and satisfied the neuro student did not rob us of this family moment.



Sunday, July 22, 2012

Play It Again, Sam, Sunday {No Zzz's for Doc}


No Zzz's for Doc

I'm imagining Doc H is like this at the moment....





While he doesn't wear those funky white clogs, I'm sure he's dreaming of zzz's right now.

We enjoyed a nice family dinner last night with extended family. We laughed and carried on...talked football, New Year's Eve parties, kids, and everything else under the sun. Doc H missed it... was called into the hospital on MLK holiday. He finally dined on the reheated dinner I brought home for him when he returned home at 10pm .  Not a bad work day for him. Until....

2am. The beeper. The beeper. It's a sound that I can only describe as worse than nails on a chalkboard times 1000. The sound is amplified when it comes piercing into your sleep, abruptly halting any hopes of REM sleep I had for the rest of the night.

His end of the phone conversation makes it's way up the stairs and into our room. I am drowsy...trying to piece it all together in my mind. He is alert, gathering data, asking the pertinent questions. I hear (in an authoritative and decisive voice, "Alert the OR. Let them know we are coming. I'll be right there." He is now in, what I like to call, "I have to go save a life" mode.

It's freezing outside. He runs out to his car to start defrosting. (God bless those poor doctors in Minnesota!) He is in his robe and slippers. He comes upstairs, turns on all the lights to dress. I cover my eyes with a pillow. From under the pillow, I fight to put my words in semblance, "What's happening?"

"I have a ruptured triple A in the ER." he says as he is scrambling to get dressed, brush teeth, comb his hair.  I am so sleepy, I don't even answer. I know what that means. I don't need any further explanation. I know how the day is going to play out. We've lived this scenario PLENTY.

What's a triple A, you ask? It's bad news, especially if it has ruptured. He or she is bleeding out- all the blood just pooling. Time is definitely of the essence.

I was hoping I would see Doc H home early this morning for at least a shower and cup of coffee before clinic. No such luck. I hope he found a couple of minutes before rounding and clinic to catch some zzz's.

Friday, July 20, 2012

Nonfat Latte With a Shot of Good Karma, Please


Why Doesn't this ever happen to me?!  
Has it happened to you? Have you done this kindness for a stranger?
Kindness can never be overrated. 
Today's post via Doctors' Wives Living.


“I’ll Have a Grande Nonfat Latte With A Shot Of Good Karma, Please”
By Annette
For a mom such as myself, there is a lot to love about living in the suburbs; big parks, scenic walking paths, good schools nearby, and plenty of opportunities for play-dates.  But my favourite thing about my neighbourhood is that it comes with a drive-thru Starbucks.  At least once a week I take advantage of this most golden of amenities, and of the convenience of stopping for a snack of carrot sticks and kale chips (and by that I mean banana bread and cake pops) without having to detangle my toddler and my baby from their carseats while balancing an overstuffed diaper bag on my shoulder.
One day last week, after a morning of running errands with my kids and trying not to cry at every song on the radio like my premenstrual self wanted to, I decided all three of us could use a treat.  I pulled into the parking lot of my local market square and was about to turn into the Starbucks drive-thru when a pick-up truck honked at me.  You may think any honk just sounds like a honk, but I am a firm believer that by choosing the duration, number of times, and force you put behind the heel of your hand to your horn, you can convey a variety of messages to other drivers.  In this case, the burly man in the pick-up was honking and gesturing at me rather abrasively in a “#@$% you, lady!” manner to let me know that there was already a line-up of vehicles that had formed in the aisle to my right.  As previously mentioned, I was feeling a tad on the sensitive side that morning, but wouldn’t a friendly, “Beep!  Beep!” have sufficed?
I corrected my error efficiently and without delay, turned around and pulled behind the black SUV at the end of the queue.  As I sat in that line-up, I seethed and questioned the decency of humanity.  Yes, my period was imminent.
When I reached the speaker, I gave the order for myself, my kids, my friend I was meeting momentarily, and her kids.  The black SUV ahead seemed to be taking some extra time at the window, which I chalked up to a complicated order.  However, when I pulled up to the window and handed the barista my twenty dollar bill, she replied with a smile, “The woman in front of you took care of it.”  I looked puzzled.  ”She’s a regular,” the young girl continued, “And she decided to pay for your order.”  For the umpteenth time that morning I found myself welling up with tears; not because some singer-songwriter was emoting on the radio, or because a man in a Starbucks line was uncouth, but because I was so touched that a stranger would take an extra eighteen dollars out of her wallet to brighten my day (side note: Starbucks can be expensive…)
This metaphorical extra caramel on my flavoured latte reminded me that paying it forward doesn’t have to be complicated or even inconvenient; all it takes is a bit of thought and the inclination to make someone smile.
Did you enjoy this? Go explore...

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Breaking Medical Blogger News

Okay Medical Peeps! Are you ready for this?


I don't know about you all, but I'm always on the look out for new reads and LOVE finding other medical/medlife blogs.

Jane, From A Doctor's Wife, and I are hosting our first Medical Monday Blog Hop!

Photobucket


What's a BlogHop, you ask?


A bloghop is a link up where bloggers can link up their blogs and find other blogs which peak their interest to follow. 


Don't have a blog? 


No worries, just be sure to stop and find some new favorite reads!


Who can link up? 

You can be a doctor, nurse, EMT, therapist, Vet, anything in the medical field.
You can be a med student or nursing student, or simply a student with aspirations to work in the medical field.
Are you and intern? Resident? Come on and link up!
Spouses and SOs? Come on down!!

If you're not sure, shoot me an email (yourdoctorswife@gmail.com) or leave a comment below.

Save the Date for our first BlogHop!


Monday, August 6th


Link up your favorite medical/medical life post to share! Write a new one or post an old one, we're not picky.

Would you like to Co-Host?


Co-Hosting is a fantastic opportunity to gain more exposure and readers for your blog. Jane and I are currently looking for 3 co-hosts to help us spread the word! If you are interested, or would like more information, please email yourdoctorswife@gmail.com.


Let us hear from you! Will you be participating? We would love your support!

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

I Walked Out of My Office

It's been almost a year since I walked out of my office for the last time. Almost a year. I have a hard time wrapping my head around a whole year free from the constraints and responsibilities of a career.

I'll admit it was arguably the most difficult transition in my life. The other being my divorce. When your marriage comes to an impasse, you expect to walk through the gates of hell and run a couple laps through the park of flames before finding a ticket out of that pit. When you come home from the office, like I did, you don't know what to expect. At least I didn't.

At first, it felt like a vacation. I was home, I was taxi mom, attended every school function, meeting, game, etc. I signed up for volunteer positions and meet many other mothers thanks to the freedom of being a SAHM. I've never spent so much time on one campus as I did those first two months.

Then life became repetitive...
Wake up
Coffee
Dress
Empty Dishwasher
School drop offs
Gather laundry
Sort laundry
Wash laundry
Hang laundry
Fold laundry
Meet Doc H for lunch (if he has a lunch break that day)
Iron
Run errands (bank, dry cleaning, obtaining items kids need for school projects)
Find an answer to the daily nemesis, "What's for dinner?"
Grocery Shop
Cook
Dishes
Walk the dog
Pick up kids
Nag kids (pick up, practice, did you do your homework?)
Give rides to their friends in need
Dinner
More dishes
....the list goes on and on...

And still be a sexy vixen for Doc H when he got home from the hospital.
{Excuse me, I have to pause and laugh at the thought of that-- oh, jeez, poor guy. I love him so much.}

I got bored. As more time passed, a small cloud of depression came over me. I no longer knew how to fill in the "OCCUPATION" line on the patient information sheet when I checked in for my physical. I deflated at the realization that I had no professional title. Wasn't that directly tied to my self-worth?

But this is what I wanted, right? I decided on my own to leave. I decided it was time to come home and be available to whatever kids were home with us that day. It was me. No one else made this decision. It was all me.

I freed myself from the office and unknowingly, walked straight under that cloud.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Get Me Off This Ride!

Yesterday afternoon I began writing this...

If you're not up to date, read this then this.

It's been decided, D1 is coming home. What we thought would be around trip ticket for a summer visit between summer and winter session, has become a road trip with an over-stuft car with all her personal belongings.

She is coming home for good.

In my own selfish way, I am thrilled.

It has been a long year and I welcome having her living back with us. We have one year until D2 will spread her wings and leave for college. I will relish and enjoy every single moment we have all four of our chicks home with us during this coming year.

We have laid down the law. She understands the expectations and she still chose to come home despite our rather strict rules and high expectations.

I think it will be a good year.

Then last night the phone rang...


Back the moving truck up and flip a b*%@#.

She made a A on her most recent test. Isn't it amazing what one can do when one takes advantage of the free tutoring and really tries?

Now, she realizes her potential. She wants to stay and give it a good earnest try.

I hate this roller coaster. I want a definitive answer.

I want off this ride.

In truth, I would really just like her home and not four states away.


I'm linking up with the gals at TTUT. You should, too!

Monday, July 16, 2012

The First Kiss: Then and Now

I fall into a small category. Not only can I tell you about my very first kiss back then, but I can also compare it to present day. It's a classification I like to call "Spin the Bottle: Chapter 2".

I was in the sixth grade. My best friend, Annie, was able to convince her conservative, Catholic parents she should invite the boys from our class to the party. Up to this point, all her parties had been girl only, with the only exception of her father, brother, and one male cousin.

We were further astonished when Annie's parents agreed to host the party at night! Twelve year old boys and girls hanging out after dusk. She must have caught her mother after she had sucked down her nightly white zinfandel.

So there, fortified by the bravery only darkness can offer a group of twelve year olds, we played "spin the bottle and around the corner". Never heard of "around the corner"? We tagged that on our childish, sophomoric, little selves. We needed privacy to guard us from embarrassment and the heckling of our peers.

So there, among the stinky aluminum garbage cans in Annie's side yard, Jack quickly kissed me. I suppose it was a typical first kiss. Awkward, uncomfortable, and...and...hard. Yes, his lips were hard, not soft like my light blue, satin pillow case with the Shaun Cassidy iron-on I had so diligently and religiously practiced on for what was to be an idyllic moment in my young life. I felt deflated. The moment did not meet my expectations. I wasn't even sure if it was diary worthy.

Almost two decades later, I found my divorced self sitting on Jack's sofa. We had enjoyed an evening of laughter, reminiscing,  and nostalgia. We were leaning our faces towards one another, with the inevitable about to happen...again! 

This internal conversation raced through my head:
Will this be better than the last time? 
Of course, it will! He was only 12. Boys don't practice kissing like girls do!
Does he still have wood lips? 
For Pete's sake, woman! Give it a rest! Relax. Enjoy. He's had almost two decades of experience since the last time.
Oh, Dear God! Are you listening?
I don't like hard lips. I like soft, smushy lips. Loose lips. Lips that will meld with mine. That's what I want. 

As we leaned into each other, closer and closer and closer, my insides are yelling, "Oh, please, oh, please, oh, please, oh, please! Soft lips, soft lips, soft lips!" 

And finally, after almost exactly twenty years, our lips came in contact again. This kiss was longer. This kiss may have even burned a couple more calories than the first, but there remained one constant...

In his thirties, Jack still had wood lips. 


read to be read at yeahwrite.me

Tween Tales: The Bathroom

Source
When we remodeled the kids' bathroom, despite the fact that LB is out numbered 3 to l in the gender ratio and my desperate want to make as least one little nook of the house feminine, I was careful to make sure the color scheme and decor would please ALL the kids-- girls and boy alike.

Eighteen months have passed since we completed the remodel and I think LB used the kids' bathroom only the first two months. He prefers to use our master bathroom.

Before you go thinking, "Well, I would, too! This doc wife's bathroom must be a mini spa" let me enlighten you..

Our master is half the size of the kids bathroom. We have no tub. Just a stall shower. There is no glass door on said shower. Our glass door broke and decided to land on my foot. Since the broken shower door, we have also remodeled our bathroom, but I believe I have paranoia when it comes to ordering a glass shower door. Instead, we have a curtain...super classy...super luxurious.

Yet, LB prefers to use our tiny, modest bathroom and shower.

Yesterday, LB and I were driving around town running some errands. The issue of bathroom usage came up.

LB: I never use the [kids'] bathroom. I like to use your bathroom.
Me: I know and that's fine.
LB: Yeah, because I don't like using the girls' bathroom. It smells like...like... Well, it just smells like GIRLS!



Sunday, July 15, 2012

Play It Again, Sam, Sunday {Vultures with Cash}

Like I mentioned before, Doc H and I have started a new biotech venture. As noted here, this is not our first trip around the start-up block. After our first foray, we are no longer green. Instead, thanks to the barrage of incomprehensible actions by attorneys, CEOs, and board members (who all act under the strings of VCs), we look at our future venture with jaded eyes.

If you happen to be one of my readers in the medical field, or the spouse of a physician, with an entrepreneurial and innovative spirit like Doc H, listen closely... Beware of the Venture Capitalist.

Dealing with VCs is a slippery slope. When you have a viable, solid biotech technology, business plan, and prototype, VCs will fund and you will feel ecstatic! The VCs will be excited as well, but from a completely different standpoint. The main difference? MOTIVATION.

MOTIVATION- Don't ever lose sight of this when dealing with VCs.

VCs with will never hold the same ideals as the inventive creators who birthed the technology. Here's what I know: Doctors take an oath which clearly outlines their awesome responsibility to their patients and their health. VCs do not. They take no oath. They are business people. Their sole responsibility is to create a profitable portfolio for their investors. To put it simply and crudely, their sole responsibility is to make as much money off your invention as possible.  It is pendulum opposition at its finest; the inventors working from the idealist point of view to further modern medicine, and at the opposite end, the VCs who have opened their coffers, taken control, and sit back and wait for the most opportune time for them to exit.

The quick summary... while doctors and inventors are striving for the better good, the VCs are striving to take their bank account balances to a whole new level.

In my mind, VC = Vulture with Cash.

Yet, here's the rub. We need them and they need us. No one is moving one step closer towards their ultimate goal with out the other.

Doc H and I will personally finance this venture for as long as we can. No attorneys, no board members, no VCs, for as long as possible. It is the only way we can remain in control and hold on to a larger piece of the pie.

Ultimately, the time will present itself and when it does, we will go knocking on the doors of the VCs. We will present, we will demonstrate, we will wine and dine...yes, it will be a whole dog and pony show. We will ask for funding.

Am I concerned of being denied? No. With one successful start-up venture behind him (which more than just lined those VCs' coffers- they have cushy padding now) and despite the questionable ethics and business practices used to augment the profitability of their preferred stock over that of the common stock (which is held by employees - the people who entrusted Doc H and agreed to work for him for stock options), I highly doubt they would turn away an established, successful patent holder.  The numbers of Doc H's venture speak for themselves.

I hope we can fund this venture for a long, long time.








Saturday, July 14, 2012

Week In Review

It's been a busy week! Did you catch everything?

On Play It Again, Sam, Sunday, I posted Professional Courtesy, my rant against rudeness in the workplace.

Next,  I participated in Monday Listicles and posted What I Will and Won't Miss, a list inspired by the late, great Nora Ephron's own list.

On Tuesday, I penned a guest post and described my latest accidental foray into the medical field in Soup, Salad, and Blood.

Later that evening, I also posted My Daily Scrounge. It is my vice. What can I say???

On Wednesday, I introduced you to my sponsor, Healthily Ever After. You don't want to miss her guest post or her blog.  Great family advice! I especially loved rule #14 where she lays down the law to her kids... "If you are going to drink our liquor, please replace."

I also saw a post on Dr. Erhumu's blog to potential med school students which really struck a cord with me. While I cannot write to what or how Doc H got through medical school, I can tell you what has helped in find balance in his life. So, I did in Thinking About Medical School?

Thursday, I used my blog as therapy and vented like only a divorced woman dealing with and ex-husband can.  Instead, of driving to my therapist's office, I pounded out I'm So Mad: A Message to Non-Custodial Parents.

Feeling guilty about venting my frustrations on you the previous day, I decided to end the week with a little story focusing on our healthy eating journey which made me chuckle. Doc H does make me laugh... even when he's not trying. Doc H, the Oven, and Healthy Snacks.

Hope you all a great week. Enjoy the weekend!

Friday, July 13, 2012

Doc H, the Oven, and Healthy Snacks

In his continued effort to eat healthier, Doc H has been busy exploring new snacks to replace his old tortilla chip habit. He's learned he is a trail mix type of guy and has been busy trying every different type of trail mix available to man.

I was very surprised the day he brought home a bag of trail mix which was a combination of cashews, almonds, walnuts, and raisins. Up until this point, I had never seen my husband voluntarily eat a raisin.

No worries. We lead a balanced life. I have always enjoyed raisins. I've been knows to eat them as a snack, in cookies, bread, bagels, salads, ice cream... rum. I'm not a discriminatory raisin eater.

Doc H decided the raisins made the bag of trial mix soggy. Since he found the mix expensive, he resorted to a home-remedy type of save rather than throw out the mix. I came downstairs to the kitchen to find the mix spread out neatly over a cookie sheet on the granite counter. Each and every raisin had been carefully removed and thrown in the trash.

I ignored the cookie sheet and went about my business.

Ten minutes later, I walked through the kitchen again, noticing the cookie sheet was missing. I spun a three-sixty and couldn't spot the soggy snack. I opened the lifeless oven. As the light flickered on, the cookie sheet coolly laid there containing Doc H's snacks.

"HONNNN-NEYYYYY!!! You know the oven's not on, right?" I yelled, as he was in another room of the house

"What? Can you turn it on then?"

"Noooooo.... you have to pre-heat the oven first. Whatever is in there during the pre-heat will burn!"

"Well, take them out! DON'T BURN MY NUTS!"





{Okay, honey. I'll try not to burn your nuts}

Thursday, July 12, 2012

I'm So Mad: A Message to Non-Custodial Parents

I'm so mad, I want a new bra; not one of those plain, everyday ones from Victoria's Secret. I want one especially designed by 007's crafty weaponry engineers.

Forget Austin Power's FemBots...


I want a bra that fires like only a bazooka can.


Listen up, non-custodial parents! If you don't want this...

Then don't go changing and rearranging your child's schedule (which you have no business doing in the first place) and keep it to yourself. 

Moreover, knowing custodial parent and child will be cutting a vacation short to ensure child is present at events which are no longer scheduled due to your sly and cunning interference, OFFICIALLY makes you a...













S*@#HEAD!!!!
Yes, I will gift this at Christmas
 Source (Warning: Only click on link if you can handle crude, rude humor.  SERIOUSLY!)


Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Thinking About Medical School?

This is excellent advice for those wanting to go to medical school....

Read Dr. Erhumu's tips.

He is so right and I can talk to the following:

#7- Doc H is always balancing his life with his hobbies. He squeezes them in whenever he can. I can tell they are a great stress reliever for him.

#8- Doc H is the most calm person I have ever met. I have never seem him come unglued. Well, once, but that was at his ex-wife (and he was just venting to me). As far as I'm concerned ex-spouses don't count.

#10- Doc H had wonderful mentors along the way. He still is in touch with them. 

#11- Cope with Failures... so important. If you can't do that, you shouldn't become a doctor...more specifically a surgeon. Remember Leo?


Healthily Ever After


I am so excited to introduce you to Pam. Her blog "Healthily Ever After" is a wonderful read full of great information, wonderful family ideas, and healthy nutritional information. If you are a normal reader of YDW you recall our most recent journey into nutrition, so you understand my excitement and enthusiasm for such a blog! Please help me show my appreciation by going over and exploring her blog. Once you do, I know you'll want to follow along!



It has been my mission over the years to raise my family and teach them how to find a balance of physical, mental and spiritual health in their own lives. I hope that by visiting my blog you will be encouraged and inspired to look at healthy and fun ways to enrich your life. 
~Pam at Healthily Ever After

Family Conference for Summer 2012




This is the first summer, in five years, that we will have our entire family under one roof.  Yikes!  My oldest son, Tony (23), did not want to sign another year lease on rental property since he will be graduating from college soon.  Therefore, he made the decision to move back home and save money.  This was not his first choice I'm sure but it was the most practical.  My daughter, Allie (21), is also home from college for the summer.  Lastly, my husband Tony, youngest son, Andrew (18) and myself are thrilled to have everyone together.  And although we look forward to seeing more of each other, it does raise some concerns - so much that I decided it was once again time for a FAMILY CONFERENCE. 


This is our wonderful family!
Actually, I do not expect any problems this summer, however, I want us all to enjoy the summer and the best way for this to happen is to be proactive and discuss everyone's expectations.  
Here is a list of what we discussed - not necessarily in any order of importance.  
PLEASE...
1.   Be considerate and respectful of everyone in the house.
2.   Church - no one has to go to church with mom and dad but find a time that works with your schedule.
3.   Try to make an effort to spend time with the grandparents.
4.   Replace empty toilet paper rolls and Kleenex boxes.
5.   Shoes - put them on shelves or under the bench where we won't trip over them.
6.   If you use or borrow something, put it back where you found it (tools, clothes, computers, etc.).
7.   Don't leave your dishes/glasses around the house - especially in bedrooms and bathrooms.
8.   Put dirty dishes in dishwasher.  If dishes in dishwasher are clean, then empty dishwasher.
9.   Wipe and dry the kitchen counters (please clean up after yourself).
10.  Laundry:  don't start a load of laundry unless you are going to be home to put clothes in dryer and then fold them.
11.  Parking cars:  We will have 5 cars in the driveway.  This could be problematic - a few years ago, I backed up  into my sons car in the driveway.  We decided that Allie would make signs for each car as a reminder to look behind before backing up.  In addition, because we leave the house at different times, each night we would determine the parking according to who would leave the house earliest.   
12.  Car keys:  We should have an extra set of all car keys in the house.  If you leave the house (and don't drive) we need to be able to move the cars.
13.  Let us know if you are not coming home for the night (Tony and Allie).  Do not call to let us know in the wee hours of the night.
14.  Alcohol:  (Tony and Allie) - Do not call Andrew as your designated driver.  We do not want him driving late at night in locations that he is unfamiliar with.  Also, if you are going to drink our liquor, please replace.
15.  If you are going to have friends over, please let us know.
16.  Keep your bedrooms clean.  OK, let's be realistic - at least make some effort.
17.  Open the blinds in your bedroom each morning.
18.  We need to work on a house cleaning schedule.  Everyone should help.  I will not clean the kids bathroom!
19.  Grocery:  When you run out of some food item, write it down on the grocery list.  I do not want to hear any complaints of why we don't have...  Also, it would be nice to have some help when grocery shopping.
20.  Breakfast:  On Your Own - (Protein Shake/vitamins/etc.)
       Lunch:       On Your Own
       Dinner:      Please let us know if you won't be home for dinner.
** It would sure be nice if we could take turns making dinner (just a thought).
21.  Eat the food we have at home, it's so much healthier than "fast food."  Let's make a real effort not to waste food.  
22.  Please help pick up Roscoe's (our dog) poop!
23.  Jobs:  Save $$$ for college and some $ for summer fun!
The reality is that we know we are close to becoming empty nesters, were just not ready yet. Boo-hoo.  
Everyone have a great summer and love the ones your with!



Better Health in 31 Days Website  ~ Twitter





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