October 1st - Almost

This is a day I have been dreading for a long time.

We were warned, early into this residency thing that second year would be the hardest for many reasons. First, because our husbands would be expected to know stuff and do stuff that they had barely learned about. Second, because their work hours would increase significantly. Third, because they would be given more responsibilities - when they still felt "not ready" for those responsibilities. All of which will impact our family lives.

Aaron started second year at the Army hospital in July. Three months of orthopaedic surgery (and only ortho) and he's been thrilled to be actually working within his field. He's met some neat patients and has built relationships with these people. He's gotten to see some really neat cases. He got to come home for "on-call" nights, and only go in when someone needed an ortho surgeon.

Tonight (he's on call the first night!), he heads down to the county hospital downtown. There are fewer docs there, and a multitude of patients. One of my dearest friends said that her husband, while working there, has sometimes been away from home for more than 36 hours at a time - operating most of the time. While he's there, for the next three months, he doesn't get federal holidays off, and he doesn't get to come home while on call. We already know that he's on call for Halloween night. Oy.

So, besides the fact that this next three months is going to be super rough on my dear husband, this is going to rock my world! (It's all about me, after all...) I don't sleep well when Aaron is gone. I am pretty much on my own as far as taking care of our daily chores and the kids. I know that when Aaron finally does come home after working a bajillion hours, he's going to be exhausted and I'm going to need to let him sleep. Even if something is wrong that he could fix.

*deep breath* Here's to independence. And hoping that the next three months fly by...

Unique ways in which I show love for my children

I do not like lima beans. I don't want to torture my children with them. Accidentally, I bought the wrong kind of mixed vegetables at the store. So tonight, before I cooked them - I pulled out all the lima beans. Am I a good mom, or what?
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I don't like lima beans so much that this book makes me a little crazy. You should read it. But only if you like lima beans. *weirdo*

Houston for the Weekend

We went to Houston last weekend for Eli's baptism. My dear nephew was born only days before I watched the Twin Towers go down from my classroom, five months pregnant with Ben. I remember thinking, "What kind of world am I bringing this baby into?"

I digress...

After a disgustingly difficult Southwest flight, that did get us (and not our bags) into Houston 3 hours later than intended, we dealt with the rain and the mosquitos. My glasses kept fogging up as we went from the humidity to the air conditioning. Yuck. Eli's baptism and birthday party weren't until Saturday evening, so Aaron, Uncle Robbie, and Pawpaw took the kids (minus Audrey) on the boat and went fishing. It sprinkled the whole time - but no lightning. Alex caught two fish at one time! They also ended up catching some other sea life - a dog fish, an eel, and a stingray. (They threw them back, of course.)

The kids were excited to see all of the different animals.

The baptism was lovely, and went well. I was so proud to see my birthday buddy get dunked. :)

There were a few casualties of our trip. Nana and Pawpaw got a German Shepherd puppy early this summer - his name is Rocky. Rocky is going through a chewing phase. I was not warned about this prior to our trip, and despite our valiant efforts to keep doors shut - both Mickey and piggie lost part of an ear. Nana's careful suturing repaired most of the damage, but they will never be the same.

We got home quite easily on Monday morning, and are off to Phoenix for this next weekend to see Auntie Bekah and visit Grandma's house. I'm looking forward to sleeping in!

It's 12:02 am here in El Paso...

and that means, officially, it's my birthday. I am now 33 years old.

I have been given some wonderful gifts in my life.

I have two terrific parents that gave me life. My dad was on an aircraft carrier when I was born, and my mom had to deal with her mom when she gave birth to me. Every year, Nannie's card tells me how excited she was to be there and welcome her first granddaughter into the world. I'm glad that I came into the world to people who loved me then, and still love me now.

I have the pleasure to being titled "big sister" to five amazing people. They each have distinct personalities and traits, and have made both good and bad choices in their lives. AND they dealt with those choices, other challenges and obstacles, and ended up being responsible human beings. I am grateful that I have their examples. I am grateful to see their courage and strength. I am grateful that they have loved me - and I KNOW that they LOVE me - in spite of and because of my choices.

I am so blessed to be called "mom" by three of the most precious souls our Father in Heaven created.

I have the honor of standing beside the most tremendous man who calls me his wife. He is everything to me, and I often feel unworthy of his adoration.

I have wonderful family and friends.

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In the past few days, I have thought about the significance of 33. Earlier this year, my sister-in-law died only a few weeks after reaching 33. Our Savior was 33 when he was crucified. I have wondered about my 33 years. Certainly, I have not had such an impact as the Savior of the World. But have I done my part? How much longer do I have to accomplish all that I want to? Holy cow, I am getting old. Where did all of those years go?

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I start preschool tomorrow, so I'm headed to bed. Thanks for reading. It's nice to know that someone cares about what I think.
Happy Birthday to me. ☺

Finally - the Joy of Reading

For the past week and a half, Ben and I have been reading "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." He's seen both of the movies, so he's anticipating the events in the story. He and I are reading together: he follows along while I read longer sections, and in the conversations and shorter sections, he'll read. Roald Dahl has introduced him to several new words: tonight it was "cigar" and "pandemonium."
I am LOVING IT!
We are now on Chapter 12, and Charlie just found the Golden Ticket. The title to Chapter 11 is "The Family Begins to Starve." The descriptions of how poor and how little food the Bucket Family had were hard to read. And then, the exhilaration of Charlie seeing the flash of Gold in his candy bar was amazing! The imagery of 96 1/2 year old Grandpa Joe shooting out of the bed with a "Yippppeeeeeeeeee!" was so much fun!

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And, above all, I'm so glad that I get to spend time with my son, and teach him one of life's most valuable lessons.
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A well-written story is a treasure,

and the movie in your brain

is ALWAYS better

than the one on the screen.