Dear Mrs. Obama

Dear Mrs. Obama,

I know it is a strange time of day to be writing you a letter, but alas, I am awake at 3 am PST, so here it goes.

Congratulations on your recent move to the most powerful residence of the country, perhaps of the world. I am excited for you and your family. It is good to know that your mom will be there for the girls and for you and President Obama, since you and President Obama will be quite busy and a mother's support is priceless.

I would like to make it request that you make the needs of working mothers an agenda of your office. For instance, do you find it odd that dependent care is capped to $5000 pre-tax dollars, per family? I mean, shouldn't the unit be per child? The more children a family has, the more money they spend on childcare, and therefore, they need more tax savings. It is things like this, that make it hard for moms to stay in the work force. (Or is there a chance for conspiracy theory here, that since there are so many job losses, might as well make some women voluntarily leave the work force?)

Meanwhile, I also would like to warn you about this country. Indeed, we are a country wanting change, and I am excited that the people are excited. Even though I did not vote for your husband last November, I am looking forward to a different administration and I am certain that God has called your husband to this duty.

Here is my warning though: The American people are kind of, well, borderline. My evidence is this, President Bush had the highest approval rating EVER, AND, the lowest approval rating, EVER. Such over-valuing and de-valuing of a person can only mean two things, that either we base our opinions on too few facts, or, the American people can be kind of psychotic. If you would like for me to further explain borderline personality disorders, I would be delighted. However, since you went to law school and such, I am quite certain you're familiar with cluster B personality disorders.

Also, I would like for you to pick some bones with the Clintons- since no one really listens to me (certainly my kids don't listen to me). If we are saying that presidential policies really make a difference in our economy, how come we are not dissecting what happened under the Clinton administration, when the foundations of the current economic crisis began?

Anyway, I hope the FBI will not view this letter as a threat, because it is certainly not. But perhaps by writing a blog entry using words like, warning, FBI, Clintons, your name, and pick bones, I have totally gotten myself in trouble. On the other hand, I am just a really tired working mother, who cannot sleep at 3 am.

God bless,
A&Z's Mom

More Complicated...

I have caught a disease, informationitis. It is a disease of wanting more information, pimping people for information, even random people. Making phone calls to way too many places, waking up at 6 am thinking about the information received, and the unending quest for more information.

Information about schools, that is.

Since writing about Aidan's school options last week, I have met many families since then, and I steer our conversation toward school options. That's right, I want to know what other families are doing, never mind that Hubby and I ultimately have to decide what is best for us.

I have learned a few other complicating factors. Like after school options. In some ways, I envy stay-at-home moms, for them, they usually don't have to make such plans. Other than the fact that they have to be there after school.

Therefore, I am in the midst of exploring Chinese schools too. Too many options.

Deprived...

I had hoped that Hubby and I would be able to go on a date night over this long weekend, a sitter was arranged last month, and Aidan and I even made plans for his dinner.

He had seen this when we went grocery shopping a while ago, and he was enticed by the dessert options of these meals, in particular, fruit roll-ups. Imagine how disappointed he was, when we heard from our sitter late last night that she had to cancel. Aidan was in tears when we told him. After deliberations between Hubby and me, we decided to just let them have their TV dinners anyway.

A&Z were so happy. It was strange, perhaps not strange at all, how much they enjoyed it. (I loved, LOVED, TV dinners growing up. We only got to have them when my parents went to church meetings at night. Therefore, I loved, LOVED, church meetings.)

Sometimes, I feel like A&Z are totally deprived, since we don't have juice at home, they don't get juice boxes with lunch, there is hardly any candy here, and Aidan is about to turn 5 and he is just having his first taste of an American tradition. On the other hand, my parents probably shouldn't have let me eat top ramen EVERYDAY when I was in high school... But it was very yummy.

Let There Be Light

This morning, while Hubby was in Marin for a photo shoot, I took A&Z to OSH to pick up some plants. We were strangely drawn to their mesmerizing seed collection. If A&Z had no limits, they would have grabbed EVERY single packet there, even I was wanting to grow watermelons! They had seeds for yellow and orange watermelons! But alas, our home simply could not accommodate such large globes.

Even the seeds we did get, such as sweet pea, carrots, strawberries, and tomatoes will still have some dubious future in our patio- we simply do not get enough sun. While the patio does get some western exposure, the garage blocks the last few glorious hours of light.

The solution: Lighting Systems! I cannot believe I haven't thought about this before, given how I complain about wanting a better gardening space spring after spring. So obvious! I am asking for a lighting system from Hubby for my anniversary present, it is going to be AWESOME. While it is not all that green, and the system itself is not cheap and the electricity bill will increase, it will still cost less than buying a big house with a big garden!

I wonder if our neighbors will think I am growing some good old Mary Jane, like Grace did in Saving Grace. (BTW, awesome movie, high recommend it.)

Choices...

You would think picking a kindergarten would not be this complicated. It is a place to play, learn, and grow, and I mean, it can't be more consuming than, say, applying to medical schools, right?

While it isn't as time consuming as applying to medical schools, I am having great difficulty determining what would be 'best' for Aidan. What do I know about what is 'best' for him? What is 'best', and what would be 'for him'?

We're blessed to live in a neighborhood where the public education system is sound, and with an explosion in the baby population in the last few years, enrolling Aidan in kindergarten has gotten tricky. There are a few issues,
1. Overcrowding: Last year, they had so many more kindergartners than they had space for at our neighborhood school, and some had to be farmed out to places... Therefore, the district had changed the enrollment dates and policies, to try to convince parents to send children to private schools, (I think, paranoid maybe, but why make the enrollment dates later than private school's notification dates?!)
2. Calendar Schedule: We also can 'choose' if we want regular school calendar or year-round schedule. We prefer year round, just so that we can go on vacation when other children are in school.
3. Montessori or Regular School: We can also 'choose' a Montessori program, but how would I know if Aidan would benefit from this?

Basically, we can 'choose' but it will come down to number of kids wanting certain things and then it is 'lottery'. But, the whole thing is so un-transparent, that I have this conspiracy theory that they will grant parents' requests for inter-district transfers just so that our neighborhood school wouldn't be so congested.

Thankfully, I rest on the fact that God has a special, and specific, plan for Aidan. And no matter how blindly I choose, God is in charge.

You Just Don't Know

The other day, I was with a patient and he really opened up and started to talk about all his problems with the IRS.

He had been an undocumented immigrant and apparently, somehow, he owed IRS $9000 a few years ago. Diligently, responsibly, he set up a payment program with the IRS and paid off about $4500. Then, he lost his job, and his 'accountant' told him to not make payments anymore. IRS found him and sent him a bill for $11,000. He was utterly puzzled about how the government could have increased his debt after he had tried to pay it down.

I was puzzled that the government expected him to work to make money to pay his tax bills, when he, as an undocumented worker, would not be able to work legally. So the government's plan was to collect money from under-the-table arrangements?

With all that, I asked him, "Are things here in the US really so much better than things in The-Country-You-Came-From?"

He shook his head and said, "Doctor, you just don't know, you don't know poor."

I was somewhat taken back by his frank comment. Yup, I did grow up quite privilged, even though I had to take out student loans, my parents always had more than we needed. And what do I know about the struggles of the poor? (I actually have two friends from the country he came from, but then again, one of them went to business school with Hubby, and the other was married to the formerly mentioned student, and so I guess, they were really from very different countries. Not the same at all...)

Getting OLD...

I realized something during a session yesterday: I am getting OLD. When I started med school, every patient I took care of was older than me, except when I did pediatrics, obviously. Through ob/gyn (since I was at a fancy private hospital, there were no pregnant teeny boppers), medicine (hello! Tons of old people), surgery (hello! More old people, if not really old, definitely oldER.) There was even a family that thought I was a candy striper when I was on-call overnight.

As a resident, most patients were still older than me. However, lately, in my private practice, I had an influx of young people. People born in the 80's. EIGHTY'S. Man, that makes me feel old. I used to think that people in their 20's were 'my age.' But no more. These are practically children! Pretty soon, I think I will only be taking care of people younger than me. Eventually, I ought to complete a fellowship in geriatric psychiatry just so that I could be the 'younger' one.

I am probably going to look like this soon.



And to delay the natural process of aging, I thought I would go exercise. After sweating it out on a stair climber, I needed to take a shower to be presentable for the rest of my day. I wrapped myself in these teeny tiny towels they have at my gym, and headed to the shower. I saw this young lady who was shaving in the shower, and I thought, "Wow, that is really productive, work out and shave. Maybe I should do that sometime." As I walked closer, the young woman exclaimed, "Hello! Dr. Insert-My-Name!" I said, "Hello! Insert-Her-Name! How are you?" Then chit chatting ensued. I excused myself and pulled the curtain closed around me. (The gym has both open and private showers, she was in the open section.) Then I thought about staying there FOREVER, until she was gone. But alas, I gotta get back to work!

Thankfully, this patient had been one of my favorite patients, bright, insightful, compliant, and most of all, did you notice, she greeted me with my proper title! If only she didn't see me practically naked.