parenthood in med school

27 Mar

It’s totally something one can sum up in under 500 words.  Here’s my attempt.

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Happy weekend!  We’re midway to Charlottesville for the 25th (what?!) Anniversary Concert of this a cappella group (and for our home inspection and in-house interview for an au pair agency–whew!).  xo

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one step forward and…

26 Mar

It’s been a while since I wrote what I’d like to think of as a playfully self-deprecating post about my parenting…

Let’s start with #1…

Ari’s the kid who has always met her milestones.  While she wasn’t sprinting at six months or reciting Shakespeare at two years, she’s healthily plodded along with what’s been expected of her.  For example, her first two-word phrase came pleasantly a month or two prior to her second birthday, as scheduled.  (The phrase was “boo-boo back.”  “Boo-boo” was her word for breast though, in this case, she was referring to my entire being as I reentered the room.  That’s right, my daughter thought of me as one big boob.  When Evie would cry anytime thereafter, she would order, “boo-boo back!”  Hey Mom, please shove a breast into the kid’s face so she will shut up.)

Ari has done well with a fork and spoon for over a year now.  But now, seeing her 10-month-old kid sister smash ripe bananas into her face with both hands, Ari often wants to join in the fun.  Fine.  She then watches me take Evie’s fully saturated and stained clothes off and cheerfully screams “Naked!” and proceeds to take her clothes off.  Again, whatever–a happy, naked two-year-old in her own home.

Yesterday Ari ripped off her diaper too.  So potty training has fallen a bit by the wayside recently, but she gets the concept and I highly doubt she’ll go to high school in diapers.  I’m not concerned.

Then, while giving me the widest s@*#-eating grin, she urinated on the living room floor.  “Puddle!!!!!”  She jumped in it, splashing her sister, her mother, and herself with urine.  “Oooh!  Warm puddle!”  Our life needs to be a Clorox commercial.

And #2…

Poor, poor second child.  Last night marked the third time she has fallen on her head on our watch.  Remember how wrecked I was the one time Ari hit her head?  I was putting pajamas on Ari and Evie was playing on the bed, literally a foot from me.  Out of nowhere, I think because she thought it was funny, she throws her bodyweight backward and does a full backward somersault off the bed.  Luckily, it’s only about 14 inches off the ground and she landed on carpet, but I was a little terrified of a c-spine injury.  She was consoled within about 90 seconds, particularly impressive considering Ari was doing circles around her, tapping the top of her head and singing “one fell off and bumped her head.”  No loss of consciousness.  No vomiting.  No obvious bruising.  No palpable fractures.  No tenderness to palpation over the skull or spine.  Moving her head in all directions.  But, Jesus, she can’t catch a break.

So, my children are surviving.  I had two educational psychologists (friends of mine) over for dinner last week.  They thought I was doing okay.  Is it fair to assume that there’s been no permanent damage yet?

Speaking of permanent damage, when are they too old for these pictures?

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final match day post

23 Mar

Okay, y’all have been tolerating my discussions of the match ad nauseam.  Here is the last post, which provides some explanation for how we managed to get John a job and our family a house within a few hours of the match.

Before the match, I used my anxiety as an excuse for being non-productive…now I fear I’m letting my shear joy and excitement get the best of me.  40 more pages of writing, lots of house-keeping details, the au pair search, and a major move–Go!

In John’s med school sweatshirt (commandeered years ago) the night before the match:

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university of virginia!!!!!!!!

20 Mar

We are absolutely thrilled to announce that I will be a resident in pediatrics at the University of Virginia!  UVA.  Home.  John secured a position in the area and we already signed on a house–lots of big steps for us!

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I regret that I didn’t have much of an opportunity to celebrate with my class and take more pictures (Ari flat out refused), but weather (snow/sleet/sludge) + parking 15 blocks away + match time being the same as nap time made for a rather tenuous family outing.  Still, the little ones were good distractions when I waited for my name to be drawn out of the hat.  And I was so thankful to be able to share it with them, with John, with my class–it’s a unique rite of passage, for sure!

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More soon.  Thank you to everyone for the support in the last few weeks, in the last five years really. CONGRATULATIONS PENN MED 2015!!!!!

second post in the series…

18 Mar

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To avoid being redundant, I’ll redirect you here for a little about what I’m experiencing in the days leading up to MATCH DAY!!  (Gah!  Less than 48 hours!)  The hours are long, and I’ve become superstitious (and a little nauseated).

matched!

16 Mar

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I’m going to be a pediatrician!!!

Let’s just say that I’m possibly even happier than Ari is when visiting castles, eating pizza, and petting a donkey.

Less than four days until I find out where I’ll be training!

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words of a physician writer

15 Mar

The physician-writer: a profession in itself.  I was drawn to the writings of physicians before I was called to the field of medicine.  John Keats (though he never practiced medicine), William Carlos WilliamsOliver SacksAtul Gawande, to name a few of the greats.

I stumbled upon this article last year and was taken in by both the story and the telling of it.  And, of course, the questions Dr. Paul Kalanithi pondered in the piece forced me to take pause longer than I found comfortable.  I was sad to learn that he died earlier this week, on March 9th, after living nearly two years with stage-4 non-small-cell lung cancer.  He was 37 years old.

In “Before I Go,” he writes to his infant daughter:

That message is simple: When you come to one of the many moments in life when you must give an account of yourself, provide a ledger of what you have been, and done, and meant to the world, do not, I pray, discount that you filled a dying man’s days with a sated joy, a joy unknown to me in all my prior years, a joy that does not hunger for more and more, but rests, satisfied. In this time, right now, that is an enormous thing.

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