A New Old Friend

My sweet friend Shawna is about to acquire the label of "old friend." She and her family are moving across the country in a few days.

How I will miss her.
I have known her for just three years--but three wonderful years. She is a dear friend, the kind that comes into your life only a few times in a lifetime and remains a part of your heart forever. She is one of the warmest and most gracious people I have ever met. She is always positive, even in tough situations, and she is a fabulous mother to her three very active young sons. She regularly makes delicious cookies and gives them away freely. I'll miss those cookies. :) She is multi-talented in so many areas, and we share many common interests. She is a marathon runner, which I find amazing. She is truly a remarkable person, and anyone who knows her for five minutes would recognize that. Another friend of mine recently described it well: "Shawna is one of those people that makes everyone feel like her best friend." So true.

I can't stand the fact that she's leaving. I will miss seeing her name on my caller ID--it always brightens my day even before I answer the phone. Shawna, I love you, my dear. You have a place in my heart.

Service Project

Tonight my sweet Emma had Activity Days. The girls were completing a service project for a family in our ward.

I went to pick her up at 8 p.m. and discovered that WE were the recipients of the service! Those sweet girls and their leaders had put together a yummy lasagne dinner, homemade bread, and not one but TWO desserts for us. And the girls each made us cards. My favorite said, "Congrats on your 2 skwirts."

I am so grateful for this simple act of service and all of the ones that have preceded it lately. Our ward family is remarkable. People have come out of the woodwork to offer help and support. In the first couple of months, Relief Society women came and held babies while I napped, people brought meals, friends called often to check on me, and I even was given a wonderful baby shower. It's been a while since we've had a meal "brought in," and this was such a wonderful surprise, and it makes me feel good to know that we're still being watched out for.

Thank you to our sweet Activity Day girls! You made my day! And tomorrow's dinner!

Reflections on Eight Years

Tonight Brian starts his fifth year of residency. We have just completed eight years of medical training, with three more to go. I say "we" because Brian's degrees (M.D. and M.S.) belong just as much to me as to him. It's hard to believe that eight years have come and gone since we started. It seems like yesterday, but it also seems like forever ago.

As we have watched his fourth year come to an end, I have been reflecting a lot on the experiences we have had. It's been a long, long journey...and it's not over yet. We have watched a lot of friends come and go throughout the last eight years. Many of them have also been completing medical training. Most of them are finishing up residency or have already finished. Today I received a phone call from one of my best friends from our medical school days. Her husband and Brian were in the same medical school class. Today they were in the car, driving across country to their new house and new job, done with residency at last. I am truly happy for them. I look forward to that day myself. This friend and I found ourselves reflecting briefly on that day eight years ago when we met, and all the times since then that we had discussed the future. For her and her husband, the future has arrived.

Emma was five months old when we moved to Hershey to start medical school. Now she is eight, starting third grade, and has four younger brothers and sisters. So much has transpired in our lives, so many people we have met, so many experiences that have molded and shaped us, individually and as a couple and a family. "Normal" life has continued full force as we have gone through training: We have moved four times, added children to our family, dealt with endless house and car issues, undergone major medical challenges (i.e., Brian's surgeries), struggled financially, gone on vacations, applauded as Brian has received recognition for his work, been apart for extended periods (while Brian was on conference trips or away rotations), gone without Daddy at mealtimes, church times, and bedtimes, served in many Church callings, and more.

Medical training is rigorous--and at times, brutal. Brian is in general surgery. It is, hands down, the most challenging of residencies. And they're all challenging. It has tested us in so many ways, but we are better for it. Speaking very generally, I have learned a lot about myself and grown a great deal in the process.

Moreover, I have watched Brian grow in amazing ways as a professional, as a physician and a surgeon. I am amazed when I listen to him on the phone, talking with another resident or a patient's family. The guy knows so much, is so capable and dedicated. He is truly in the perfect field for his personality and talents. I am so very proud of him for weathering so well the challenges of medical training and for working so tirelessly to provide good care to his patients.

It seems like so long ago that we were making our "rank list," in our fourth year of medical school, for where we wanted to go for residency. Here is Brian, holding the poster we made, which listed a number of surgery programs and all of their pros and cons:


Here he is, on Match Day in 2004, holding his letter, ready to open it.

And then there is Emma and Daddy, on his graduation day. Daddy shared some of his glory with his sweet girl. (I am struck, as I look at these pictures from a mere four years ago, to see how much older Brian looks now. Residency has aged us.)

And now, in 2008, Brian the Surgery Resident, perpetually exhausted but always working hard, coming home at the end of another phenomenally long day, ready to hold babies while catching a quick breather.
A few nights ago, we went to dinner with some good friends. One of the couples below is finishing their residency this week, finally launching off to their first "real" job. We will miss them tremendously.

Our waitress at the restaraunt, upon hearing that Tyler was graduating from residency, mentioned excitedly that she was applying to medical school.

We all congratulated her and wished her luck.

But as she walked away from the table, we chuckled. She has no idea what is in store for her. And we didn't, either, eight years ago. If she knew what awaited, she would probably think twice about applying. It's a good thing she doesn't know.

Would I do it all again? Not on your life. But I wouldn't trade the experiences we've had for anything. Here's to three more years!

Once Upon A Potty

My handsome little boy will be three in less than a month.

He has absolutely no desire to use the potty.

Apparently, the timetable of boys versus girls, in this developmental stage, is different. So they say. So I have been patient, waiting, allowing him to adjust to two babies who have rocked his world.

But his big sisters were gone for three days this week, so I decided, for the heck of it, to see if he might just take to it easily.


Um, it didn't work too well. Lots of wailing, lots of flailing, lots of tears.

He didn't even like the Lightning McQueen underwear. I snuck it on him while he was distracted by Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. He discovered it seconds later, threw himself on the floor crying, and yanked it off.

The potty sat empty for a long, long time. For a while, it was employed as Nathan's newest garage for his multiplicity of cars.

When I put the potty up on my bed, he thought it was a riot. He climbed up and sat on it, picking his nose and watching TV, for over an hour.

But no success, after a number of feeble attempts. Given his very negative reactions, I guess he's not ready. Despite bribes. Despite treats, toys, stickers, books, and lots of hugs and cheers.

If anyone has any suggestions on potty-training a stubborn little boy, I'd love to hear them!

The Purge

My girls, Emma and Clara, were whisked away to D.C. to spend a couple of days with some cousins.

My house is oh-so-wonderfully quiet.

I decided to take a little time and clean out some of the girls stuff. When you're eight and almost six, every little thing is a priceless treasure. I went through their drawers, jewelry boxes, and shelves above their beds. I kept the meaningful stuff, and into the trash went most everything else: McDonald's toys, wads of Scotch tape, scraps of paper crumpled into balls, broken necklaces, old craft projects, etc. It was unbelievable. I filled four grocery sacks with trash, and I still kept at least half the stuff.


Then, I got to the books. We are a family of readers, and the girls are no exception. I pulled 38 books and 19 Kids' Discover magazines off their little reading shelves. (Each girl has a shelf above her bed.) Above, you can see the picture of the stack I removed. I left three books on each shelf. I am amazed the shelves hadn't fallen down with the weight of the load.

I wonder how long it will take for the pile to build back up again.

The Swim Trunks that Weren't

Meet Nathan's swim trunks, purchased on clearance at the end of last summer.

Nathan screams every time I attempt to put them on him.

"Those are MOMMY'S!"

My Dad

Here is my dad, holding Nathan.


Here is my dad, cooing at Madeline.

I love my dad. A lot. Here are some of the reasons why:

First, my dad works very hard. He always has. He has always provided a good life for his family. And he did all the typical Dad things, and did them so well--home maintenance, yard work, car repairs, etc. etc. He was also a soccer coach for each of us kids in turn.

My dad is supportive of my mom. He has always given her a thumbs up when she has pursued her own interests and developed her talents, such as calligraphy or photography.

My dad is very loyal to his family. When something has gone wrong in our lives, he is our advocate and support, showing a strong sense of concern for us. He is proud of us when we succeed.

My dad has a strong sense of right and wrong. He has high standards for living. He is very honest and truthful, always telling it like it is.

My dad is an intelligent and informed person. He always studies an issue before coming to a conclusion. I value his opinions very much for this reason.

My dad loves to be Grandad to his grandchildren. I enjoy watching him play this role. As a grandfather, he is able to relax and enjoy the kiddos so much.

My dad always helped me with my schoolwork. I can remember many evenings when I had a challenging math assignment and asked him for help. He would pull out his pad of yellow legal paper and start working through the solution.

Come to think of it, my dad is simply a good teacher in many areas--both large and small.

My dad is very thorough. He never leaves a job half done or poorly done.

My dad grills the meanest flank steak and hamburgers in town.

In the last couple of years, as my parents have lived just a few miles away, my dad has come over a number of times to help with things at my house while Brian has been working his insane hospital hours. For instance, when my kitchen was covered--covered--with ants, and Brian was away at a conference, my dad came over at 10 p.m., searched my house inside and out, and repaired a hole where ants were coming in.

My dad taught me to love history by taking us to many historical sites in the country. He loves U.S. history, too.

My dad is an avid golfer. That's an understatement.

Some of my best memories as a kid are of washing the car with my dad on Saturday mornings, or going on a driving lesson with my dad. He taught me to drive a stick shift. He also taught me to drive on Virginia's winter ice by taking me to a parking lot when it was icy and making me slam on the brakes. We went skidding across the lot, showing me what not to do in such a situation. Such a memory!

One of my favorite stories about my dad took place when I was little. We were living in Seattle, and my dad had flown back East on business. I had my first ballet recital while he was gone. Instead of missing it, he flew home to Seattle just in time for the recital. I was in the back corner of the stage, barely visible. After my performance, I was whisked off the stage and into the car, where we drove to the airport so my dad could catch a flight back East to finish out his business trip. I know of very few fathers who would have done such a thing, but I love the fact that my dad did it.

I love you, Dad! Happy Father's Day!

The Un-Campout

We should have known better...

After all, Nathan had been awake for two hours crying during the night on Sunday, and then he was lethargic and cranky all the next morning.

But we ignored the warning signs. Brian, miraculously, had Monday and Tuesday off, and he really wanted to take the older three kids camping. We moved forward with our plans, anticipating that Nathan would perk up with the promise of the great outdoors and sleeping in a tent.

As we were loading up the car, he laid down in the hallway and promptly fell asleep. You would think, now that we have five kids, that experience would have taught us to know better.




Brian is truly an adult-sized Boy Scout. I love watching him in the outdoors because he is in his element. He is an outdoorsman-turned-surgeon.

Nathan, however, wasn't too excited about the promise of camping. He laid down promptly on his mat and, with big crocodile tears in his blue eyes, asked to "go home to Nathan's house."

That request continued to be repeated for another six hours.

We tried to cuddle him. We tried to give him lots of treats. We even let him watch Cars on Daddy's iPod. Nothing worked.

Even the deer, who kept crossing into our campsite, didn't enthrall him.

Several other families joined us just for a campfire dinner & s'mores. The twins and I were going to hitch a ride home with them and leave Brian and the three older kids in the mountains to camp overnight.

Nathan, however, changed those plans. He joined me for the ride home. He was fast asleep, snoring, by the time we arrived back at our house. I unhooked the car seat and carried him in, placing him on the floor, where he stayed sound asleep. (Oh--and in between there somewhere, I discovered I had left my house keys with Brian, in the mountains. Oops. I was locked out and had to be rescued by my parents, who live nearby.)

Nathan's camping trip, it seems, was not meant to be.

(Epilogue--This morning, as I was combing his hair, Nathan went ballistic. Apparently the little guy had a severe earache. One trip to the doctor led to two prescriptions for a flaming ear infection. Poor little guy. I feel pretty bad that we put him through so much misery yesterday.)

The Dog Days of Summer

Summer has arrived, in full force. School got out last Wednesday, the 4th, and it was also our fourth anniversary of the day that we closed on our house and moved here to Virginia.

This year, June has been looming large before me. Kids out of school. Endless heat. Afternoon thunderstorms. Mom as endless party planner. Two babies thrown into the mix. Frankly, I have been dreading June.

We're off to a good start, however. I am determined that my older three kids will enjoy their summer in spite of the fact that the twins will tie us close to home.

Last week, Nathan discovered pure joy in our backyard, as my neighbor and I combined the length of our two Slip-n-Slides for one long slide down the hill. What a ride that was for my little guy.



Then there was the traditional berry-picking excursion. Unfortunately, we spent more on gas getting to the berry patch than we did on the actual berries. Most of the ripe ones were gone by the time we arrived. I think we'll try again next week.

(Yes, I forgot the sun hats for the babes. Did you know that spit-up rags make great alternatives to hats?)

And finally, yesterday was Day #3 of summer vacation. It was a sweltering 99 degrees outside, and with the added force of Virginia humidity, it felt like 110 degrees. Since Brian was working all weekend, I knew that I couldn't keep the kids cooped up all day, and in this heat, the only way to be outside is to be near water. The girls dutifully did their morning reading, workbooks, and piano practice...and then we started packing.

And we packed. And packed. And packed. Not for an overnight trip, mind you. We packed for an afternoon excursion to our local lake to swim. The lake is five minutes from our house. It took me over an hour to get everything and everyone ready.

Here is my log of all the items we took. All of you mothers out there can certainly relate.

--One mom

--Five children, two of which are three-month-old infants

--Two infant car seats

--A "Snap-n-Go" stroller, in which the car seats (and infants) can sit

--One beach chair, for Mom

--One large beach umbrella

--One small wagon full to the brim with sand toys

--One inner tube (the kids wanted to take two; I refused.)

--One swim noodle

--One life jacket

--One large beach bag

--Four beach towels

--Three sets of goggles

--Two containers of sunscreen, plus sunscreen stick

--Three swim diapers

--Six baby diapers

--Baby wipes

--One medium-sized cooler

--Four water bottles

--Three juice boxes

--Two baby bottles

--Formula for those baby bottles

--One nursing cover

--Snacks galore--crackers, fruit, etc.

--Mom's wallet, cell phone, and keys

--Five spit-up rags

--Two infant sun hats

--Infant change of clothes x 2

--Several Band-Aids (my kids require band-aids for everything)

I think I'm missing a few things. I wanted to take a picture of the pile o' stuff, but with everything I had to carry, a camera was just an added burden.

It's amazing what moms do just so the kidlets can have a good time.

We got home in the middle of a torrential downpour, all of us covered in sand, with a wailing baby and a very grungy two-year-old in tow. The Great Unloading began, in the rain. My kind neighbor saw me outside in the driveway and came running out in the pouring rain to give me a hand. Saint.

I was exhausted and drenched in sunscreen and sweat, with a huge amount of clean up ahead, but the kids had had a great time. I love my little brood, and I love their happy, sun-kissed faces, so that makes it all worth it.