Aidan is growing up. He is starting to shed his baby teeth. It is really a crazy idea to think that he is getting his permanent teeth. I didn't really pay attention in med school when they talked about teeth, (and it is highly possible they actually never talked about teeth. Hard to know for sure, but I can't think of which class would have covered teeth... I do remember we decapitated our cadaver on Halloween...) and so I am not sure if they are suppose to lose them in the order they got these baby teeth. Aidan is indeed losing them in the order he grew them. Does that make any sense at all? I am writing this terribly.
Anyway, he is a slightly late bloomer on losing teeth, which is totally fine with us for several reasons. My sister started to lose her teeth when she was still quite little and so when the big teeth came in, her mouth wasn't big enough. They had to pull out four teeth, (or some crazy number like that, I can't remember. Maybe this post is actually about stuff I can't remember.) It was traumatic. We want Aidan's mouth to grow big first, then get big teeth. Secondly, I am not sure if Aidan is really up to taking good care of his permanent teeth yet, therefore, the longer we can wait, the better.
While we want these teeth to stay in as long as possible, in his mind, all his friends have been losing teeth already, for a long time. Therefore, he was SO excited when the first one got loose.
My mother always offered to just yank out loose tooth instead of waiting and waiting until the bitter end. Of course, since I am more and more like my mother these days, I offered to pull Aidan's.
A few weeks ago, while Hubby was in Canada on a business trip, I pulled one.
Tonight, I pulled another one. We are getting our routine down. It goes like this:
Aidan: "Mommy, I think this one is ready."
Me: "Ok, after dinner."
After we finished dinner and ate our share of Halloween candy, (very fitting, don't you think?) we got down to business.
Me: "Aidan, lay down on the kitchen floor." He got down as I found a kitchen towel. I took hold of the tooth, yanked it out, and then, "Ok, bite down on the towel."
Voila, perhaps I should have gone to dental school.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Happy Birthday Hubby!
Hubby is getting old. He doesn't really like it when I say it like that, however, it is a fact. He is getting old. I just can't believe he is getting old.
We met when he was 19. He was a member of the cycling team, and they all wore their cycling clothes to the dining hall after a morning ride for brunch/lunch. Have you seen cycling shorts? They show EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING. When we first met, we were just friends- actually, the entire first year we knew each other, I had prosopagnosia. Selectively for him and his roommate. Mind you, they look NOTHING alike, except they both wore cycling shorts. He was so funny to share a meal with, just so very, very, nice. By my second year, I finally figured out the distinguishing features between he and his roommate: He had big, big, glasses. His roommate had much smaller glasses. (Never mind that he also weighed about 50 pounds more than his roommate.)
I was 19 when we started dating, I used to tell him all the time "You are just SO nice." It drove him nutty. But it is a true fact, he is just so nice!
And cute. I had made a mental note, upon seeing the Claremont Cycling Team during the first week of college, that these guys were cute, and I should definitely try to date one before graduation. Who knew I would marry the cutest one?! =) For the record, I always made sure my eyes stayed above the chest area. Never, ever, below the belt area.
Happy Birthday, my cute cyclist, who is so very, very nice. And to me, you will always be 19.
We met when he was 19. He was a member of the cycling team, and they all wore their cycling clothes to the dining hall after a morning ride for brunch/lunch. Have you seen cycling shorts? They show EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING. When we first met, we were just friends- actually, the entire first year we knew each other, I had prosopagnosia. Selectively for him and his roommate. Mind you, they look NOTHING alike, except they both wore cycling shorts. He was so funny to share a meal with, just so very, very, nice. By my second year, I finally figured out the distinguishing features between he and his roommate: He had big, big, glasses. His roommate had much smaller glasses. (Never mind that he also weighed about 50 pounds more than his roommate.)
I was 19 when we started dating, I used to tell him all the time "You are just SO nice." It drove him nutty. But it is a true fact, he is just so nice!
And cute. I had made a mental note, upon seeing the Claremont Cycling Team during the first week of college, that these guys were cute, and I should definitely try to date one before graduation. Who knew I would marry the cutest one?! =) For the record, I always made sure my eyes stayed above the chest area. Never, ever, below the belt area.
Happy Birthday, my cute cyclist, who is so very, very nice. And to me, you will always be 19.
Monday, October 18, 2010
A Quick Get Away
Because Aidan attends a year round school, he has 3 weeks off in October. Every year, I have grand plans of going to Disneyland during the October Intersession, and every year (ok, only two years thus far) by September, I realize the error of my thinking and change our plans. We have been to Disneyland, and it is fun, but the idea of packing for a longish trip, getting on a plane, blah, blah, blah, for a theme park is just not in me by Labor Day.
Instead, we opted to go to Carmel/Monterey this year. It is a quick trip, and much lower in stress and preparations. For you fine folks who live around this area, this is what I recommend:
Day 1: On your drive down, stop by Los Gatos downtown, walk around, get lunch, relax. (That was the plan, but we decided to get ramen instead, which was delicious.) Throw the kids in the car, and they might just take a nap for the second leg of the trip. Drive past your hotel, either the Embassy Suites or Holiday Inn Express or the Marriott, and continue to Carmel. It takes about another hour- perfect duration for a car nap. By the time you get there, it is mid afternoon, get a snack, walk around town, chide at your kids for touching things in an antique shop. Get dinner at Little Napoli on Dolores Street. Get back to hotel, put the kids to bed. Enjoy the extra couple feet of space in your wheel chair accessible room, because you so cleverly took that room away from the truly handicapped people. (Ok, maybe I should feel bad about this, but I think, first come first serve.) The slightly bigger bathroom is very, very, nice. Especially if you have a baby who sleeps in a porta-crib. You can set it up in there! =)
Day 2: Go to the Aquarium. Park on Wave Street, and if you are lucky, you can park within a block of the Aquarium. Become members, because if you just go back once, you have 'made money.' Besides, it is totally tax deductible- it is not completely clear to me how this can be tax deductible when I am actually getting something out of it? Get lunch at the cafe around 11:30 so you beat the rush. Then, go for a lecture at 1:30, so that you can take a quick nap while the kids listen to the experts talk about whales. Go back to the hotel when you are done with the Aquarium for a swim, then dinner at the Fishwife's in Seaside then throw the kids in bed early and watch TV.
Day 3: On your way back home, swing by Gilroy Gardens. Do the swan ride first, because that gets busy. Then the car ride, because that also gets busy. The healthiest place to eat is the restaurant at the "Mission". They have fruit, roasted chicken, salads...etc. SKIP the Grill and the Mexican joints, trust me. Leave the park about 3, and the children will take another nap, and you are home in time for dinner!
One of the most amusing things for us on vacation is to have TV. The kids are definitely very intrigued by ALL the channels available, and I find some TV shows absolutely fascinating. Like Sisterwives, the reality TV show about this polygamist family. (Frankly, I don't know what people are so up in arms about polygamists anyway, I mean, so they have their own definition of marriage, while not for me, why make it illegal? There are many things that ought to be illegal, or stay illegal, like good old Mary Jane.) There is also this reality TV show about women who didn't know they were pregnant, they thought they were just eating poorly, getting fat, and too stressed, and in menopause. By the time they were in labor, they pretty much all thought they ate something bad, something REALLY bad. I would get cable just to watch these two shows. Seriously. (Actually, the only time I had cable was when I was in med school, and let me tell you, I watched a LOT of TV then- kinda makes me wonder how I passed second year...)
Anyway, book a trip to Carmel/Monterey, watch some TV, and relax!
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Sunday School Reverie
I have very mixed feelings about teaching Sunday School. Believe me, I have very, very good reasons.
As a kid who has been going to church as soon as my mother was able to return to church after labor and delivery, then as a teenager who went to church on Friday nights and then Sunday mornings from 9 to 1 pm, then as a college student who did Mark study, and fellowship meeting, and Sunday worship, I feel a little churched out from time to time. After Hubby and I got married, there were times he was so excited about attending Sunday School at Redeemer Presbyterian Church, and I was just completely blasé about it.
To teach Sunday School really challenges me to not be blasé about church. That, is a difficult lesson.
Then there is this desire to look really good while teaching Sunday School. Typically, the teachers meet at 9:45 to pray before the children show up. If I didn't have the family that I do have, you bet I would be there at 9:40, just to be so superior about my timeliness. Alas, God knew that this idol ought to be crushed and gave me a family that perpetually makes me late. This, is another difficult lesson.
Perhaps I learn more while teaching Sunday School than the children are actually learning from me.
As a kid who has been going to church as soon as my mother was able to return to church after labor and delivery, then as a teenager who went to church on Friday nights and then Sunday mornings from 9 to 1 pm, then as a college student who did Mark study, and fellowship meeting, and Sunday worship, I feel a little churched out from time to time. After Hubby and I got married, there were times he was so excited about attending Sunday School at Redeemer Presbyterian Church, and I was just completely blasé about it.
To teach Sunday School really challenges me to not be blasé about church. That, is a difficult lesson.
Then there is this desire to look really good while teaching Sunday School. Typically, the teachers meet at 9:45 to pray before the children show up. If I didn't have the family that I do have, you bet I would be there at 9:40, just to be so superior about my timeliness. Alas, God knew that this idol ought to be crushed and gave me a family that perpetually makes me late. This, is another difficult lesson.
Perhaps I learn more while teaching Sunday School than the children are actually learning from me.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Kids...
Hubby and I were talking about how we couldn't not even imagine life without our A and Z over lunch yesterday. I didn't have the heart to tell him that, actually, sometimes, I can imagine my life when they are off to college.
Yes, I realize I will probably come back and eat those words. I will miss them terribly, I will randomly show up on campus, with food.
In this case, a huge pile of French toast.
Last Saturday for breakfast, I made 1 batch of French toast. We barely had enough for everyone. Last night, I wanted to eat French toast, so I made that for dinner. Two batches of it. That was a lot of toast.
Yummers...
Yes, I realize I will probably come back and eat those words. I will miss them terribly, I will randomly show up on campus, with food.
In this case, a huge pile of French toast.
Last Saturday for breakfast, I made 1 batch of French toast. We barely had enough for everyone. Last night, I wanted to eat French toast, so I made that for dinner. Two batches of it. That was a lot of toast.
Yummers...
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Lack of Posts
I was looking through my posts from 2008, and boy, I wrote a lot back then. How much I wrote had a direct correlation to where I was working. Yes, indeed, when I was being paid by your tax dollars, I was pretty much always slackin'. See, the government is too big.
These days, when I am at work. I work! Work, work, work. Sometimes I think I should sing "The Working Song" from Enchanted.
This evening, while putting dishes away, I told Hubby. "Just so your know, tomorrow is my early day. I start at 8. And I don't finish until 5. Boy, I am going to be dead." Hubby replied, "Oh, a 9 hour working day." Yes, I realize it sounds absolutely ridiculous to these hard working people who work in high tech, but really, I dread my marathon days. In 9 hours, I am going to see 14 patients. To primary care docs, or ER docs, that is really a low number. Yes, I realize I am a baby about working hard.
However, I am exhausted at the end. For instance, I gotta counsel someone out of my practice. It is never pleasant, but at some point, it is better for the patient and for me. (Before I let that person go though, I need to convince him to pay me.) Wish me luck.
It is also quite a roller coaster, that in one appointment, I hear about how much better a person is doing. Someone telling me that life is so much better without depression/anxiety. But the very next appointment may be with someone whose depression is just refractory to treatment. I have sent the said person for a second opinion, for hospitalization, for other treatment programs, but I feel like we are marching in place. I don't like it. Not at all. I want this person to be better. To be normal and healthy.
It is sad, actually, to think that there are people who will get better with the first intervention and never struggle with mood disorders again. Then, there are those whose illnesses are just so difficult to treat. Like cancer, some patients improve with one round of chemo, yet another person can't get any better after ten rounds of chemo.
I pray, that God gives me wisdom, all day long. That He gives me patience, to wait for medications to work. For endurance, to sit with patients who will probably never get better. Most of all, I pray for mercy, that everyone gets better.
These days, when I am at work. I work! Work, work, work. Sometimes I think I should sing "The Working Song" from Enchanted.
This evening, while putting dishes away, I told Hubby. "Just so your know, tomorrow is my early day. I start at 8. And I don't finish until 5. Boy, I am going to be dead." Hubby replied, "Oh, a 9 hour working day." Yes, I realize it sounds absolutely ridiculous to these hard working people who work in high tech, but really, I dread my marathon days. In 9 hours, I am going to see 14 patients. To primary care docs, or ER docs, that is really a low number. Yes, I realize I am a baby about working hard.
However, I am exhausted at the end. For instance, I gotta counsel someone out of my practice. It is never pleasant, but at some point, it is better for the patient and for me. (Before I let that person go though, I need to convince him to pay me.) Wish me luck.
It is also quite a roller coaster, that in one appointment, I hear about how much better a person is doing. Someone telling me that life is so much better without depression/anxiety. But the very next appointment may be with someone whose depression is just refractory to treatment. I have sent the said person for a second opinion, for hospitalization, for other treatment programs, but I feel like we are marching in place. I don't like it. Not at all. I want this person to be better. To be normal and healthy.
It is sad, actually, to think that there are people who will get better with the first intervention and never struggle with mood disorders again. Then, there are those whose illnesses are just so difficult to treat. Like cancer, some patients improve with one round of chemo, yet another person can't get any better after ten rounds of chemo.
I pray, that God gives me wisdom, all day long. That He gives me patience, to wait for medications to work. For endurance, to sit with patients who will probably never get better. Most of all, I pray for mercy, that everyone gets better.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
.jpg)
