Party is Over

I think, my writing career as a blogger is over.  Because, I want to keep my day job writing medical charts.

I have been doing a lot of learning about medical legal issues recently, partly to keep my license, partly because when I see a train wreck I can't keep my eyes off of it, and partly, it is the life of a physician.

Apparently, physicians are going to be sued at some point. Psychiatrists and pediatricians are less likely to be sued. Ob-Gyns, surgeons, can count on being sued, multiple times. You want more bad news? When a physician is sued, the likelihood of having another claim within six months is much increased compared to MDs who are not involved with a suit.  It is really good news, I can't say how thrilled I am about this. 

It is also a geographical issue: where one lives also determines the likelihood of being sued.  I am afraid that I live in a high lawsuit state. 

Anyway, I am not going to write this blog anymore. Because, whatever I write, for the public, for my own journal, can possibly become evidence in court.  For instance, they can trace me to a bad parenting day, "And you were distracted on the 35th of June, and here, bad outcome. Shame on you. Give us money." 

Sad, isn't it?

I will miss writing, miss being funny and sarcastic.  Alas, a new phase of life begins.  A cover my a$$ phase of life. 

On the other hand, I also know that Jesus is my Lord, and He will do more than cover my behind, He will always take care of me.  Nonetheless, being prudent is also wise.  Therefore, here I go!

Bent Out of Shape

I had been thinking about telling y'all about my new schedule, then I kept reading articles about the brouhaha of Yahoo's new CEO and her fetus. 

It is always more interesting to write about other people, so allow for my tangent, please.

In some comments made by random Jane and Joe, people were questioning the choice and how Yahoo will get a part-time CEO.  I resent the accusation as a working mother, (even though this working mother really does work part-time.)  And that is the important piece: it is understood that she is taking a full time job, and given her reputation, she probably understands that.  Besides, because she is #20 employee at Google, I am sure she is swimming in money, and she can probably hire a few nannies to take care of her baby next door to her CEO office on campus.  Or, here is a thought, maybe her husband/partner/boyfriend (I don't know what she has, the father of the baby) may even want to- hold your breath- share some baby responsibilities.  It takes a village to raise a baby, remember? 

I wish Marissa all the very best.  We don't hold Yahoo stocks and therefore my opinion is completely neutral, in fact, my opinions are always neutral.

You may laugh at this time, that is ok, I understand.

Back on topic.  For the last 10 work days, I have promptly ran out of my office at 2:50, parked my car illegally at the club, and picked up A&Z at 3:00, give or take five minutes.  Then we did all kinds of super fun stuff, like swimming! Grocery shopping! Kumon! Buying theater tickets at the box office! Hair cuts! Good stuff! I have enjoyed them a lot.  Hubby thinks I am much more relaxed.  All is good. 

Here is the thing: I am making choices that work for my family.  You make yours, Marissa will make hers, and we all need to help one another. 

Changes

After months of dealing with the aforementioned stress, I have made some changes to my life.

Mainly, I am going to take this mothering business more seriously. While it is not that I have been a funny-haha-joking around kind of mother, it is just, let's be honest, I have outsourced a lot of my mothering. To tell you the truth, I didn't potty train my kids. I didn't teach them how to tie shoe laces. I didn't teach Aidan how to read, or add, or subtract, or multiply, or divide. I have tried to love them, but I do get other people to teach my kids stuff. (In case we are keeping score though, I have taught Aidan how to read music and play the piano.)

A whole lot of this is about to change.

I am becoming a tiger mom. A DIY tiger mom. Hear me ROAR!

 This can all end very badly. But with the grace of Jesus, there is hope for this mother.

I have elected to not use aftercare for the kiddos. I realize this is a huge privilege to be able to work as much/as little as I want to, and to "hang" with them as much/as little as I want to. Hubby really spoils me silly.

The plan is that I will work while the kids are at school. (Therefore, as American children are at school for so few hours each day, I will also be working very few hours. I think some of my patients think I don't take my paying job seriously. In case you are wondering though, I take my way of earning money very seriously. VERY. SERIOUSLY.) I will finish my day at 2:30, pick Aidan up at 2:40, get Zoe at 3, and boom. Home by 3:20. We will do homework, Kumon, piano, Chinese, and Scripture memorization! Then we go to hockey/ballet/figure skating! I will be relaxed and they will be happy!

I realize the last sentence of the previous paragraph is completely delusional. I am willing to trade relaxation and happiness for productivity and over-achieving. That's right, I am going to crack the whip, figuratively speaking, of course. Taking time to whip children will decrease one's productivity. (Perhaps you are thinking of calling CPS, don't worry, we really don't spank our kids.)

These past few weeks have been a foretaste of the rest of my life, and I gotta say, it is weird to be with A&Z this much. We are getting so much done! I do feel much less stressed! Yet there are more opportunities for me to annoy them, and vice versa!

For instance, I have to take them with me to do groceries now and when we are at the store, there are lots of opportunities for me to deny their requests and pleasures. (I used to shop while they were being taught something or other by someone else.) On the bright side, I see this as training for endurance, for all of us. We have already decided that we need to pray for good attitudes. I will let you know how it goes.

Cautiously

In case you missed it, the posts on this this blog since January were all of the "woe is me, where is God, this world sucks" kind of posts. The reason for that is irrelevant,  however, the lessons learned are too important to not share.

I am also ready to share it, because I have been given permission to "cautiously have a drink to celebrate." 

The Summary:
I basically have am idyllic life: loving and hard-working husband, who also happens to be kind and patient, two beautiful, energetic, smart, and sweet children.  Even one of each gender! My parents and siblings are all in good health, and our relationships are sound. I have a job that is flexible and I also happen to like it.  Like my dear sister said, "Your life has been entirely too easy."

Then my misery started. I started to resent my life and everything in it. It is really not good when a psychiatrist starts to resent her picture perfect life.  There were days that I was sobbing in between sessions, on the shoulders of my colleagues.  They told me, "You need to go on vacation, you are becoming unglued." I thought, "No sh*t.  I am completely losing it. Look at me." This wasn't quite something I would say to a colleague, and so I often said, "I know! But alas, I am headed to a hockey tourney next time I am going away." Then I had to wipe my face off, and greet the next person enthusiastically with, "Hi! Come on in!" Meanwhile, I was thinking, "I need to find help for myself."

The stuff I had learned about so that I can do my job became much more interesting .  For instance, the five stages of grief according to Dr. Kubler-Ross: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance felt applicable.  However, I was unconvinced that I would ever accept it. As a catastrophizing kind of person, I don't do denial often. Instead, I experienced plenty of anger, then I bargained, then I felt so sad, and acceptance seemed impossible. 

I also spent a lot of time reading about my misery. I learned that this misery brings on more misery- really encouraging stuff. During this time, I told Hubby, "I hate discouraging people. They suck."

At the beginning of May, I thought it was going to be over.  Oh, but that was not meant to be. I was thrown back in the land of misery.  MISERY. MISERY!!!!

Obviously, I asked God and His people how to cope with this. My dear comrades told me to read specific parts of the Bible, such as James.  I read the book of Job, instead.  I read it over and over again. I also read Eugene Peterson's introduction to his translation of the book of Job in The Message.

"Perhaps the greatest mystery in suffering is how it can bring a person into the presence of God in a state of worship, full of wonder, love and praise." I didn't quite feel wonder, love and praise the first time I read about Job's plight.  I mainly sobbed through it.

I cried a lot. I once sat in the car, talked to my darling sister, and used up all the Kleenex in the car. I had to move onto PAPER TOWELS.  It was a dark day.  I was SO incredibly angry, angry at everyone, even my kind, wonderful, loving, sweet, family.

Yet, in the midst of all this, I had to continue with the feeding and caring of them. I had to drive Aidan to hockey practice, Zoe to ballet. I made muffins, I went to church. We hired sitters and went out on dates.  It was quite weird to experience so much suffering, yet so much of life just went on.

As I am now cautiously moving beyond all this, I have to say that I have never experienced God like this.

Even as I sobbed through the Book of Job, I could sleep at night. When I decided that I wanted the wonder, love and praise that Eugene talked about, God gave it to me. Every night, I decided to just read something in the Bible. I had no specific plans, but that I wanted this wonder, love and praise. I started with the first few Psalms, then I felt compelled to read Isaiah 40.

"God doesn't come and go. God lasts. He's Creator of all you can see or imagine. He doesn't get tired out, doesn't pause to catch his breath. And He knows everything, inside and out. He energizes those who get tired, gives fresh strength to dropouts. For even young people tire and drop out, young folk in their prime stumble and fall. But those who wait upon God get fresh strength. They spread their wings and soar like eagles. They run and don't get tired, they walk and don't lag behind."

Then Jeremiah 29.

"Build houses and make yourselves at home. Put in gardens and eat what grows in that country. Marry and have children. Encourage your children to marry and have children so you'll thrive in that country and not waste away. Make yourselves at home there and work for the country's welfare.Pray for Babylon's well being. If things go well for Babylon, things will go well for you... I know what I am doing. I have it all planned out- plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for. When you call on me, when you come and pray to me, I will listen."

Then I thought I would read the Lord's Prayer, then I just felt that I needed to read all of the Beatitudes. Then the rest of the book of Matthew.

It. Was/Is. Really. Weird. Amazingly weird. I got invited to a birthday party, and I cried at the birthday party about my thing.  Somehow, God had taken away my anger, and while I still felt so sad, I didn't have to call this suffering anymore.  It was just a thing. A thing that needed God's provision.  Then I had dinner with two wise women, (and I think they actually have suffered) and it was indeed full of that wonder, love, and praise. 

Like I said, weird, weird, stuff.

I remembered what Corrie Ten Boom said about her Bible when she was at Ravensbruck, a concentration camp in Germany. "Sometimes I would slip the Bible from its little sack with hands that shook, so mysterious had it become to me. It was new; it had just been written. I marveled sometimes that the ink was dry. I had believed the Bible always, but reading it now had nothing to do with belief."

My thing definitely was not of the concentration camp proportions of suffering, I mean, nobody died. Yet God gave me mercy, that His word was just so new, so pertinent, so timely.

When it all started, I had called a sweet friend, (again, someone who actually had experienced true suffering) to ask her, just how did she live through her suffering. She said, "The Spirit. It will come to you. You will see."

Indeed, God sent many angels to me, and He sent Himself.  It was weird, marvelous, and full of wonder, love, so that I can truly praise Him. 

Contentment

There is a book on our bookshelf about contentment, and the title is either The Gift of Contentment or Christian Contentment, or maybe Contentment as lived by Puritans. Clearly, I have not read this book. Perhaps if I read this book and prayerfully considered it, my life would be much different: I would be content. This weekend, a few of my friends reached some major milestones in life. There is a med school friend who got married, an undergrad friend who welcomed her first baby. Of course, this is June after all, I keep seeing pictures of various graduations on Facebook. There is even a car all decorated for graduation on our street. I am green with envy. I know, it is weird. I am thankful that I no longer have finals to study for, so why would I want to be a newly minted high school graduate? I am relieved that I don't have to get up at night with a newborn, so why would I be envious for the life of a new mother? As for my covetous thoughts of being a bride, who wouldn't want to be a bride? While Hubby always say that I will forever be his bride when I say something about this, I sure could use a new wedding registry! Although I will readily admit, I don't really want to go back to the time when we fought as newly weds. Arguing now in our 12-13 year old marriage is much better: we get to the point SO MUCH FASTER! Is it obvious? I want other people's lives even though I have lived through their stages of life and know about its excitement and travails. Presently, I am feeling discouraged, disappointed, and disillusioned. Don't get me wrong, my two cute kids are healthy and happy, Hubby is healthy and "very happy." (I just asked him.) I am mostly amazed at all the grace and mercy God has showered upon me. Still, I am discouraged, disappointed and disillusioned. (It is probably not a great thing when one's therapist is living through life experiencing mostly the "dis.") I am simply discontent. (There is another "dis" word!) My parents told me to read the book of James. Funny thing- our small group spent the last 9 months reading through the book of James. (God's timing is impeccable.) Some mature friends from church told me to "figure out what recharges you." I think, God is telling me that I can't possibly become more content on my own, I can't work at being more content. It is like telling someone who is hungry, "Just don't think about it." What I need is to seek shelter in Jesus. I need more of Jesus to be recharged. I will let you know how it goes.

Happy Easter

In my mature and old age, I am realizing something: This life is just depressing.

I have had a fairly easy life, if you know me in real life, you would totally agree.
However, I have had some tough times, like fighting with my mother as an adolescent, dating Hubby long distance in med school, flunking my shelf exam for pediatrics. (If I hadn't flunked it by ONE question, I would probably be a pediatrician. And don't worry, I did pass it the second time around, my diploma is totally legit.) I also have had hard, hard, times raising these two kids, (not that hard, probably, in the grand scheme of things...) The thing is, I know life is going to get hard, harder, tough, and tougher.

Why else would wedding vows include "in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer, for better and for worse?" Because, friends, there will be sickness, less money (have you seen the cost for healthcare?!) and worse times, for sure. In the end, either I will die and leave Hubby, or he will die and leave me. It is going to be hard. HARD!

I also know this because of what I hear from people at work. If it is not a rebellious daughter, then it is an un/under employed spouse, or dying parents, or infertility, or death of a child. Really, it is GOING TO SUCK.

The only hope I have is in this Easter miracle. The miracle of God's own Son, who lived through this suckiness, and WON the ultimate battle.

I can then live through the hardships of people hating me, bare the disappointments of dead dreams, and basically life. Because of the fact that Jesus, has done it all, and died for all of it. Most importantly, RISEN from the dead.

He is Risen!

Are you? ARE YOU?

Hubby and I joke around with the phrase, "Are you? ARE YOU?!" and "Do you? DO YOU?!" whenever we are asking for something actually quite obvious. Such as, "Do you want to go out to dinner? Well, do you? DO YOU?!" I think it came from our beloved show, Friends.

Lately, I feel that God is asking me, "Do you trust me, do you? DO YOU?" "Are you trusting me, are you? ARE YOU?!"

The difference is, sometimes, I don't think I trust God to take care of me, and therefore, I am not trusting Him.

There are many things in life that I really just think I know what I want, when I want it, and how I want it. Let it be schooling/extracurricular/discipline issues for A&Z, or my work issues, or Hubby's work issues, or health, money, sanity. You name it, I really do think I have it covered.

Oh... Except I really don't know what I am doing. What on earth would I think I know how to raise kids, for starters, I have never done it before! The same goes for nearly everything else in my life. In fact, I have never had to be responsible for two little people, cook three meals a day, show up to work, and manage other people's mental health problems. (Well, maybe I have a bit more experience managing other people's psychiatric issues- it has been 10 years since med school graduation, after all. Not much experience, just a bit. And lately, this bit has been quite stressful.) Anyway, I really have no idea what I am doing in life.

The reason that this blog has been dormant is because writing about how things are out of my control is not really fun/encouraging/interesting. Yes, I aim to achieve all three goals in my posts.

Therefore, I sit down and read the Book of Job. Actually, I only read the last few chapters of the Book of Job. The chapters where God spoke to Job. Essentially, it boiled down to this: "Just who do you think you are? That you know what is best?! What are you? Nuts?! Crazy?! I am the One who made you, and everything else in this world. Trust me. I will take care of you, even when the sh.t hits the fan." Perhaps my translation is a bit loose...

I ponder upon that, and the conclusion is this: (Hello! Captain Obvious!) I don't know what I am doing, I don't even know how to trust God. Please God, don't leave me! SOS! SOS! SOS!

My believing friends, I pray the same for you.

Seasons

I am afraid, dear readers, we have reached a season of life that is just hard.

Tonight, we had the pleasure of hanging out with some dear friends, friends that we "brought" with us from our days in NY. Friends that had known us as newly weds, as new parents, and ironically, we had become the parents of the older kids in the group. As we caught up on the dramas in our lives, I scarcely could remember what it was like to be in their shoes: pregnant with the second child, and wondering how on earth we were going to survive?

I actually do not have a clear idea as to how we managed, but we did manage. That season of our life just seems so incredibly long ago. Although, it really isn't. Zoe is only just about turn five.

The season we are in though, feels hard, oppressive, scary, and overwhelming. Work has been draining, there are days that I want to just close the door, sit on the couch, and use the tissues myself. Hubby is working a lot, not as much as he did when he first got out of business school, but more than the last seven years. Aidan's activities take up a lot of time. The decision as to which activities to participate in also take up A LOT of time, and wisdom, which I am afraid I don't have whole lot of. Ditto for Zoe.

Sometimes, I wonder, why did I expand all that energy to wish and pray for becoming a wife and mother? Surely, life as a single person looks pretty good right now. To not be responsible for anyone else, to do WHATEVER I want to do, WHENEVER I want to do it. All you single people out there, really, Apostle Paul knew what he was talking about.

But alas, this is the season that God has given me. For some reason, I think He knows that I need these people, to make me a better person...

Independence

Whenever I think about characters I want to build up in Aidan and Zoe, independence inevitably pops up on the top of the list. It is for a selfish reason: when they are independent, they are not dependent of me.

To clarify, I don't mean that I neglect my children maliciously. I neglect my children benignly.

You want pants? Go find pants. If you can't find your pants, why do you think I would find your pants?!

You forgot to bring your hockey stick for practice? That is a bummer. Well, you better find someone who has a stick to lend you! It is not my job to bring your gear. It is your job.

Of course, I expect more from Aidan than Zoe. I mean, she is just nearly-five. Still, same rules apply.

You left your lovey at school? I am sure your lovey will have a great time at that sleep over. You are upset? Sorry, sweetie. It is not my job to remember to bring that home.

Tonight, we reached a new milestone. Hubby had gotten tickets to see the Sharks play, as a special treat for Aidan and him. In order for Aidan to make it there, Hubby needed to come up north, get him, then go south again. With the nutty traffic hour, that was going to be a colossal waste of his time. If I drove Aidan south to meet up with Hubby, I would then have to drive north to go home, which would have been a huge waste of my time, and Zoe's time. At least an hour of sitting. in. traffic.

So we decided to put Aidan on the train. Over break, I took Aidan and Zoe on the train to go to Daddy's office for lunch. Then, Hubby took Aidan on the train again, but didn't talk to him once they reached the train station- Aidan got himself on and off the train, when we went to church last Sunday. Of course, Aidan had some reservations about this. It didn't help, that as we drove to the train station, the news radio started to talk about an eight year old boy from San Francisco, kidnapped and missing.

I had told him that I would pray for an angel to help him. When we got to the train station, I saw this lady, Kate, and I knew, she would be the angel that God had sent for this. She graciously chatted with us, and helped Aidan to find a seat on the train, and said that she would be sure that he got off at the designated stop.

I saw them off, at 5:22, and at 5:48, Hubby had gotten the package.

I am so proud. So thankful of God's angels. I must also tell you the story of Gabriella, an angel we met in Munich, another day.

When Aidan and Zoe really leave us, I will probably regret making independence a priority. I will be eating those words...

If You Give Zoe...

If you give Zoe a hug, she is going to ask for another one.

You will hug her, the smell of your hair, thanks to peppermint shampoo, is going to remind her of candy canes, and she will ask for one.

You will give her a candy cane, she will want to make candy cane crafts.

You will find the papers and crayons for her, then she will ask for her Hello Kitty scissors.

You will look all over the house, only to find the cover for those scissors, which will remind her of the fun trip she had buying those scissors at the mall. She will ask you to take her to the mall.

You will take her to the mall. Upon entering the mall, she will see the pretzel shop and she will want to have a pretzel.

You will buy her a pretzel, and she will gobble that up. Then she will want a drink from Nordstrom's cafe.

You will take her to the cafe for some Italian soda. When you are there, she will remember that Nordstrom sells shoes. She will ask for a pair.

You will take her upstairs to try on shoes, and she will choose the most expensive pair.

You will pay for the shoes, she will see some red and white striped pajamas in the children's section, which will remind her of the candy cane. She will then ask you to get those scissors and go home to make the crafts.

She will show you her finished crafts, and chances are, she will look so cute that you will give her a hug.

When you give her a hug, she will smell the peppermint, and she is going to ask for some candy canes to eat.

Colts' Christmas Classic 2011

The month of December flew by, just like that. Actually, all of 2011 just flew by. It might as well be 2015 next week, I am sure it will go by like a blur anyway.

It is really crazy that I will only have Aidan in this house for 10 more years. Then, adios! Good luck, amigo. This mama will be done. Finito. Good. Bye. Meanwhile, I am counting on these ten years going by super quickly. This way, my expectations are set: I will hardly remember any of this.

I am hoping that once Aidan is off to college, I will have three precious years of having Zoe as our 'only' child. She doesn't know it yet, but I plan on hanging out with her as much as I can. (She probably won't want to, but that won't matter.) I am going to micromanage her, the same way I micromanaged Aidan from 0 to 3. It is going to legendary. (I am also hoping that she will have Hubby's personality- he did hang out with his mother a bunch as a teenager.)

Meanwhile, the children are busily ice-skating. Zoe is practicing figure skating, although, we will be getting her a pair of hockey skates soon, and have her try being a goalie. She does have quick hands! =) Aidan participated in a tournament this past week- their team was the undefeated champion! However, the other teams (all two other teams) weren't very good. Still, Aidan played well, he was focused, energetic, and listened well. This mama is proud!

Silver Stick 2011

'Twas the night after Thanksgiving, not a soul was stirring, except for this mother. While Hubby and I had gone to bed after midnight- because he needed to buy some tickets via a Black Friday special to go see the Sharks with Aidan- I was wide awake at 3:30. As much as I tried to go back to sleep, I just couldn't. I got up at 4:20, got dressed, and dashed out to The Home Depot to get in line to buy $0.99 poinsettias and $5 wreaths. By 5:15, I was driving away with 4 wreaths and 15 pots of the gloriously red plants. Quietly, I tip toed back into the house after getting the other car ready, scooped my 60 pound hockey player, and loaded him in the car. By 5:25, we were speeding down the highway to get to his third silver stick game.

Silver Stick sums up our Thanksgiving. This tournament is a big deal. The winners from various regions meet up in Michigan for a national championship tournament, and the winners do go home with silver sticks! Aidan played his first game on Wednesday evening and won. On Thanksgiving Day, they played one of the top teams in the country. The other team, The Phoenix Coyotes, were amazing to watch. Accordingly to the coach, five of the boys had NHL players for fathers. As much as Aidan's team had tried, they lost, 0:9. Aidan cried at the end. It was a tough, tough game.

There is something special about taking Aidan to a very, very, early hockey game. He is as sleepy as can be, I get to hold his little body, although it sure is getting heavier, and he sits so quietly in the car. As I am driving zooming down the dark highway at 75 mph, he tries really hard to go back to sleep. But he never can go back to sleep. As twilight comes up, his sweet little voice asks for a story on CD. I try to make him eat something, he invariably says no thanks. I love being with him then, just the two of us, especially when he is kinda sleepy. Our energy levels are equally matched.

This third game, Aidan played against a local team, and I had really wanted Aidan's team to win. But they lost. 0:9. It was truly a sucky, sucky, game to watch. The coach was MAD, and I couldn't blame him, as the boys played like fecal matter. Actually, I can blame the coach- he didn't get the boys warmed up! (But that is a different story for another day.)

After the game, Aidan and I had wanted to get some breakfast, but we couldn't find a McDonald's with a drive-through. This is another thing I love to do with Aidan, just the two of us, getting a breakfast sandwich from the Golden Arches after a game. Instead, we found a Lee's Sandwich and he asked for 'the special sandwich you get for me in a paper bag.' Oh dear child, they don't sell a sandwich in a paper bag, Mommy makes the sandwich for you to catch all the crumbs! As we zoomed back home, we ate our sandwich-in-paper-bags, and listened to the adventures of Charlie Bucket at the chocolate factory.

This morning, Hubby was the one who couldn't sleep past 3:30 am, and the two of them went for game #4. Game #4, apparently, was AWESOME. Aidan scored! And they won, 7:0! Yes, Hubby got to watch an awesome game, while I watched a sucky, sucky, game.

They didn't make it to the semi-finals, in a way, I am relieved: we get to have a free day before school on Monday, on the other hand, it would have been SO cool to advance to the semifinals. Maybe next year.

I suspect, as long as Aidan is playing hockey, we will always be doing Thanksgivings with the Silver Sticks.

Focus, Perseverance, and Obedience.

"Do you want to have fun or do you want to be good?" That is something I jokingly say to my kids these days. Of course, while it helps to have fun and be good at something, that usually doesn't happen for a while.

Hockey is fun, but probably more fun when your team is winning. Definitely more fun when you succeed in defending your goal or scoring a goal on your opponent. Or stealing the puck away from the other guy. In order to do all that though, it is just hard work.

One of my favorite movies these days is The Miracle, you know, about the US Olympic ice hockey team from decades ago. My favorite part is when the mean, mean, coach made the assistant coach send the players to spring across the ice, over and over again. "AGAIN!" "AGAIN!" "AGAIN!"

Aidan's coach doesn't do that, not to my knowledge anyway. They do work hard though, Aidan is all sweaty after his practice, while I am always shivering just waiting for him. He is practicing Tuesdays, Fridays. He has games on Saturdays and Sundays. We are trying to get him some extra coaching on Mondays. Perhaps that is a lot, but really, "Do I want to help Aidan to be good?" You bet.

Even though he has only been skating since last Christmas, he is FAST. Possibly the fastest kid on his team. He also happens to really like it, and doesn't oppose us pushing him a bit. It definitely helps that I know nothing about hockey, and therefore, I can't make him do anything, but pay for his coaching and get him to places.

I am just so proud of him. Not just because he is fast. Or that he works hard. I am also so pleased that he is the kid that can get his gear on and off quickly. Through the task of getting the gear on and off, I am working on my patience, and he is working on his focus, as the locker room is inevitably always buzzing with activities.

They have played against a few teams from our area already- some teams are, umhum, not very good. Some teams are frightening awesome. Through it all, Aidan is learning and getting better at it.

Meanwhile, the other time sucking activity continues here- the piano. While completely different than hockey, he is also learning very much the same skills. We are learning focus, perseverance, and obedience. Strangely, he prefers to have me sit by him at every practice. (Whereas I had learned long ago, to get my mother to leave me alone.) Therefore, I sit there, and correct the misfingerings, the wrong notes, the incorrect rhythms, speeding/slowing down tempos. And I say, "Again." "Again." "Again."

He tells me today, "But you said I needed to do it three more times, but then you kept saying AGAIN!" It is true. What is the point if the three more times were all incorrect? I want three more times correctly. Believe, sometimes it is really unpleasant. In piano, he has to focus to keep up with his two hands and for now, one foot, read music, and count. He also must keep trying, again, and again, and again. Then there is obedience, "If I say you played a wrong note, you did just play a wrong note. Again."

He is really sounding better and better on the piano every week. And looking better and better at hockey. Here he is #11 in the white jersey.

3 Hours

We have been so busy here, what else is new?

On Friday evening, Hubby said, "I am feeling so stressed out about this weekend!" I reassured him that he can relax, "I have it covered."

HA!

On Saturday morning, after we saw Aidan off to an all-day ice hockey event, I realized I needed to make some urgent phone calls about my credit file, thanks to the ever-mounting regulations our beloved government kept piling up in the refinance of our abode. Zoe had a doctor's appointment then soccer. I had planned on taking her, but it just wasn't going to happen. So Hubby went instead of me, and took one for the team.

After a quick lunch, Hubby left to go to Aidan's hockey game. Zoe and I got to hang back, shop, and relax. He took another one for the team.

Our friends came over for a Schubertiad late in the afternoon, before Hubby and Aidan even got home. It was delightful to see all the children play with each other, and of course, tickle the ivory.

As much as we enjoyed our friends, it was good that everyone had dinner plans so that we had some downtime as a family.

This morning, Aidan and Hubby went to a hockey game, I went to Home Depot with Zoe to take care of life stuff. We went to worship, and despite hearing about how God bestows undeserving grace on me, I was utterly unable to do the same for Aidan and Zoe. I was irritated, annoyed, and frustrated with them. While we did homework, Kumon, and piano lessons, I was just, irritated. Irritated that God gave me these kids to raise. Annoyed that these kids had/have so much to learn. Frustrated that I was irritated, annoyed and frustrated.

After we finished all the 'must-do enrichment activities', Hubby said, "Even I was scared." True, this mother's teaching voice really is scary. Even as I use that very stern and loud voice, I always think, "Man, I sound just like my mother. This is probably not fun for them." However, it is like they are deaf until the stern, angry, loud voice is screeching.

Somehow, my loving Hubby intervenes on behalf of Jesus, and takes yet another one for the team. "I am leaving with the kids for ice skating. You take 3 hours to take care of yourself."

Let's face it, the weekends are never going to be restful for Hubby. Not just because we have kids, but because he married me.

I am counting on Jesus to take care of him, because I, really, just, can't. As much as I try- I do have blueberry muffins in the oven, beef stew and chicken soup on the stove, yet I know, that Hubby needs more than that.

Isn't that just the summary of a sinful mother who needs Jesus? As much as I try, I really can't fix my life. I need Jesus.

Working on a Cruise Ship

This definitely speaks to my guilt about hiring people to do things for me.

As wonderful as the cruise was, I felt so awful about having Nerissa clean our stateroom twice a day. Whenever I saw the towel animals, I thought about how she must be so tired. I felt guilty about Daniel and Noti bringing me tea, water, food, cutting up food for my children, entertaining my children...

Hubby tried to break it down for me:
They are making an honest and fairly good living, all the tips and wages they make, essentially are their to keep after their tax liabilities, as they do not need to pay for room and board, and there are very few ways of spending money while working as a crew member. They go on vacation, 2-3 months at a time. And, they do it so they can travel and see the world.

Still, I feel the compulsion to ask them for a social history, to be sure they are having a good time, that they are not suffering from loneliness, depression, anxiety. Professional hazard, what can I say?

Brain Washed

We just spent 7 glorious nights being brain washed by Disney Cruise Line.

Did I say glorious? It was possibly the best vacation I have ever had. I take that back, our honeymoon trip was the best ever vacation. These past 7 days though, were probably the best days since Aidan and Zoe were born.

I didn't cook anything, I didn't clean anything, and I didn't even need to discipline any children. (I saw them for meals, swimming, and bedtime. There wasn't time to discipline them!)

Ahhhh..... Hard to imagine that Heaven is going to be better than a Disney Cruise- therefore, I can't wait to see Heaven! (As a side note, as we were about to land on our way home today, I actually did have this thought: If the plane were to explode, I am totally ok with that, I am here with Hubby, Aidan and Zoe, we are happy, delighted, and simply, content. I am ready for Heaven.)

Disney knows how to entertain people. They know what they are doing, and there really is no reason to fight it. We listened to Disney theme songs in the hall way, saw Mickey and Minnie many times, met a few princesses, got their autographs, and just delighted in how unrealistic the experience really was.

The food was great, the portion sizes were humane, and lots of healthy options were available. My particular favorite was the poolside fruit/sandwich/salad stand. We got plates and plates of watermelon and just gobbled them all up. Our servers were gracious, friendly, and amazing. Aidan asked to go to the dining room for breakfast and lunch, just to see them. I, of course, experienced a lot of guilt by having people serve me. Hubby assuaged my guilt by convincing me that they too, were having a good time. (More on the staff later.)

We went with my parents and brother's family. It was great to meet H, my nephew, to hang out with W, my SIL. My parents were well rested, relaxed, and very happy. We just all had so much fun!

Upon re-entry though, Aidan and Zoe left for a math/reading challenge contest, and I dashed off to Costco and unpacking. I had 25 voice mails, and 14 e mails to get back to for work, which was actually much less than I had anticipated.

We are back. Rested. Relaxed. But not so ready to jump back into real life.

The Complaints of a New Hockey Mom

We recently found a video of Aidan, when he was about 4 and 1/2, and Zoe was 1 and 1/2, documenting a Saturday of that stage of our life. We basically fed the kids over and over again, and in between eating, the kids played a variation of ice hockey in the living room. Instead of hockey sticks, Hubby and Aidan used cooking spatulas. Instead of a puck, they used a plastic toy waffle from Zoe's kitchen set. Instead of a Zamboni, Zoe pushed her baby stroller around the 'rink', which was our living room floor, with the carpet rolled away.

Little did I know, that activity would evolve into hours, and hours, at the ice rink.

It started last fall, when Aidan asked to start skating again. Because we were, and still are, very committed to his Chinese school, he couldn't participate in the group lessons for hockey. Instead, we enrolled him in figure skating classes, and arranged for some private lessons. By spring time, he had accumulated all the ice hockey gear. By late spring, he got himself onto the in-house league. By late summer, he got on the traveling league.

I can go on for hours, complaining about how the rinks always smell, a weird, humid smell, like listeria is always brewing somewhere, or about the intensity of this sport, or the time it is taking me to get him to the rink. For instance, every other Tuesday, I leave work at 3, to pick up Z, then our carpool buddy, then taken Aidan out of his Chinese school lesson, to drive 27 miles away for an hour of practice, and 1/2 hour of 'team building' activity. The children get dinner in the car on the way home, and we arrive at our final destination at 7:15.

But I am really trying very hard to not to complain, because, my 'hardships' are nothing.

There is a family, whose 11 year old child plays in a league in SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA: 400 miles away from here. They drive down there on Saturday am, he practices in the pm, they stay over night, then he plays in a game, EVERY WEEK.

Or, the 14 year old who chooses to go to boarding school in MINNESOTA, so that he can play.

Or, the goalie who has to see his goalie coach at 6 am every week. The child is EIGHT years old! 8! 8!

Isn't it just insane?!

In 2 weeks, I am going to get up at 5 am, throw Aidan in the car, and drive to a 7 am game. It is going to be awesome. I will try to keep the perspective that at least I am not driving down to SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA every week.

More Practice

This blog is rather neglected, not because our lives are boring, it is precisely the opposite.

To sum up though, we are spending a lot of time practicing.

Hubby changed jobs about a month ago. Basically, I started telling him that he needed to move on, to a more challenging place, to do something new about a year ago. Perhaps 'telling' is an understated verb for this, nagging may possibly be more descriptive. After a few months of telling/whining/nagging about it, I decided to stop. I may be the neck that turns the head, but I really don't want to tell Hubby what to do, I mean, I am not his mother, after all. Instead, I decided to pray, I prayed for patience for me, wisdom for him. In early spring, Hubby decided that he probably needed to start looking. He did look, but it didn't look good. In general, in this awful recession, who would want to switch jobs?! By early summer though, an opportunity landed in his lap. After much careful consideration, Hubby took the job, said good-bye to the good folks at GW, where he had worked for the last seven years, and moved on. He is now busily practicing his skills as a product manager (what is that, exactly?!) at the place. He is also practicing his bike riding skills. This new place is about 8 times further from our house than the previous job. He rides to work at least once a week, it takes him about 70 minutes each way. He is in really, really, good shape. =)

Zoe is doing a lot of practicing too. She tends to speak very, very, rapidly, therefore, dropping syllables and skipping words. The practice, with her therapist, is to sssslllooooow down, be mindful of her syllables, and make minor adjustments to her jaw. We are very happy to report that her speech has improved dramatically. With kindergarten just around the corner, this is something we must spend more time practicing. Figure skating is also something that she practices. With her own skates, and figure skating pants ($65 for a pair of PANTS for a FOUR year old?!) she is one enthusiastic skater. Because she is advancing in her classes, our family dinner time is somewhat messed up. For the last 3 Wednesdays, Aidan, Zoe, and I have eaten our dinner in the trunk of the CRV. One of these days, I actually heated up our dinner at work, picked up the kids, and fed them in the parking lot at Zoe's school. Good times, good times.

Aidan is practicing a lot of ice hockey. That deserves its own post, and I am really going to try to get it done soon. Our piano practice sessions have been so frustrating, for me, and for him. For the last few months, I have been thinking that Aidan doesn't know how to read music. We would talk about it, I quizzed him on it, we practiced it, and a day later, it was like the sponge in his brain was refusing to learn it. Then... we got a notice from school, that Aidan's vision was needing further assessment. In the end, Aidan got glasses. (I am quite possibly a negligent parent, as the optometrist told me that his vision likely had been worsening over the last THREE years.) With his new glasses, he is now reading music like a pro! Piano practices have gotten SO. MUCH. BETTER. He is doing really well academically at school, and that is with him not being able to read the board! I am very excited to see how much better school will be for him! Socially, Aidan has been a bit frustrated at school, Hubby and I talked and talked and talked about it. My conclusions? He needed his ears cleaned out. (Done, and the hockey coach said he no longer needed to repeat instructions to Aidan.) He needed to get to know his classmates better, we arranged for some playdates, with great success. He needed more fluids in the morning and during school- a dehydrated child is a cranky one. Finally, he needed to be able to SEE.

I am also practicing, aside from practicing how to use my electronic medical charting system, I am practicing the piano, as much as I can. Although I have been banned from playing Beethoven sonatas, first and third movements, (except for the first movement of the Moonlight Sonata) before the kids go to sleep. Hubby has complained that it is much too agitating. My mother would be so proud.

Now, I am going to go practice the skills required to study the back of my eye lids.

EMR

When I started my private practice in the fall of 2007, I had many decisions to make. For instance, did I want to do mostly therapy or mostly medication management? Did I want to set up my office completely on my own, or join a group? Did I want a paperless practice?
Back then, Zoe was 6 months old, Aidan was 3 and 1/2, and I was just starting to go back to work. Did I have time to think through all these issues? Actually, did I really think through the issues of starting my own practice?
I ended up joining a group because of happenstance, and I started seeing patients. Using papers. Lots and lots of papers. My pile of files grew, and grew, and grew It grew out of my little work bag, then I moved on to a bigger bag, with wheels. Then I got a file cabinet in my office, then I got a bigger file cabinet. Then I moved the files to the back office.
Now, some 500+ patients later, I really needed to move on to a paperless practice.
Over the last decade, most hospitals had moved away from papers to electronic medical records, which had grown into a very large, and profitable industry. For my little one woman shop, I did not have the luxury of hiring consultants to figure these things out for me. On the other hand, Hubby had been with me, growing this practice, and he did used to work as a consultant. On his advice, we made the switch.
Let me just make the record very clear: It is a pain to make the switch. You don't need to hear about the nitty gritty details of scanning charts, uploading charts, and blah, blah, blah. I now hear the scanner in my sleep.
What is interesting, is that electronic medical records are so widely accepted. Do people not realize that digital data storage is just NOT safe?! Sure, I am using a government certified program, my patients' information are stored in the cloud, it takes two login names and my very secure password, involving a capitalized letter, and numbers, and 10 character length password. However, do we not know about hackers? Hackers that broke into people's phones? Government e mails?
With paper charts, it is behind two locks, and about 10 people in this whole world, plus all the locksmiths, can have access to. With digital information, thousands are hackers are just waiting and working on it all the time.
Moreover, the way diagnoses are kept will be changing. The ICD-10 process will be in place, and there will be over 140,000 unique codes to describe the medical condition being treated. It is no secret that these codes are being used so that information can be extracted, so that 'they' can understand more and more about 'us.'
I am probably paranoid, but to not be, I think, is a bit naive. So anyway, I am moving forward with turning my practice into a paperless one, because I think the government is going to make me soon anyway, and I will, in fact, be more productive. My own doctors also use EMR, and I am kinda ok with that. But still, the whole thing is just alarming.

New School Year!

The other day, Aidan was telling me about how he was busted during recess for squabbling with another child about the wall ball court. When he told me that the other boy was in second grade, I thought, "What a lame boy! Picking on smaller kids!" Then it occurred to me, that Aidan IS in second grade!

HA!

When Aidan was an infant, I thought I would forever be living with a baby/toddler/needy one. Then, voila! He is in second grade. SECOND! GRADE!

He is assigned to a highly coveted classroom, according to another mother in his class. Because, his teacher, Mrs. W, assigns a lot of homework, which, if one is the 'drill and kill' kind of parent, works great.

I like to think that I am not the 'drill and kill' kind of parent, but I know for a fact that at least one person out there thinks I am a 'drill and kill' mother.

Over the summer, I had this med management appointment with F, who was in the process of getting his teaching credentials. He was telling me about how he got a job working at a summer camp, as we talked about it, I realized that he was going to be working at Aidan's summer camp. I had a decision to make: just tell him that Aidan is there, or, wait until I see him there when I pick Aidan up from camp. Of the two options, I thought to risk it and wait to see if I would run into F at camp would be far more awkward. In the split of a second, I made the decision to tell him. So I did. "Really? That is where my son will spend a couple of weeks this summer!" F said, "Cool! I will see you there then!"

I actually never saw F there, probably because we used aftercare, and most of the instructors were gone by then.

This past Friday, he came back for another follow up. F said, "Oh, I met your son, Aidan, right? He is really smart. When I did the orientation, the site director told me that if I didn't know what the routine is, to ask Aidan, that he can be really helpful." (What a nice compliment!) Then, F said, "I bet you are the 'drill and kill' kind of parent. That is how your son knows so much."

Ironically, he said that when he has his own class, he won't be assigning much homework, because he doesn't believe in the drill and kill methodology.

Personally, I like to think of my method as 'drill and thrill'- it is thrilling to play that piano technique song 15 times, isn't it?