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Book Review: Beyond the Rainbow Bridge

2012-01-29T22:27:00.001-07:00

Beyond the Rainbow Bridge

Nurturing our children from birth to seven

Barbara J. Patterson and Pamela Bradley

When Millie was around three months old, my neighbor let us borrow a play gym-type toy. I was pretty much holding my girl all day and figured this might be a good way for me to do things that required bending over, like loading and unloading the bottom rack of the dishwasher. I laid Millie on her back under the arch, and upon kicking her legs made contact with a pedal that caused three brightly colored wheels to turn above her head while the toy simultaneously made a loud sound, like gears turning. After the wheels were done the toy played a happy little tune. Millie smiled and looked intrigued, which caused her to kick again, resulting in more toy movement and sound. However, with each subsequent round she became increasingly agitated and eventually started to cry. I put the toy away, thinking she was still too young and would bring it out every few weeks to retry, but it was the same each time. This was confusing for me - weren't toys supposed to be fun? I began to think more deeply about what constitutes a good toy. I wanted her to be stimulated but not overly so, and as she grew I hoped she would experience imaginative play like I remember from my youth. This led me to do a bit of research on play in general which eventually led me to Waldorf education, where from birth to age seven children learn primarily through imaginative play.

Beyond the Rainbow Bridge is written by a longtime Waldorf educator. The book gives a good overview of Waldorf education and it's founder from the early 1900s, Rudolph Steiner. This is not an evidence-based or scientific book, rather it felt like sitting at the knee of a wise grandmother as she taught some really great principles. Waldorf learning for young children focuses on learning through homemaking activities and work. One of the best pieces of advice I got from this book was to not hurry and clean up the table so we can do an activity, rather to make cleaning up the table the actual activity, having Millie help and singing a little work tune as we go. It also stresses unstructured play using natural materials like cotton fabrics, shells, wooden blocks, and baskets for filling and emptying. Each of these toys are less "fixed" and can change their purpose depending on the situation the child creates. Waldorf dolls are typically very simple, with their proportions equal to that of the child and with simple facial features which allows more input from the child regarding the doll's emotions, etc. Rhythm is also stressed in this book - creating rhythm at home with predictable routines, as well as recognizing seasonal rhythms and allowing the seasons to dictate our daily activities. The chapter on discipline showed that this type of approach is loving and child-centered, with adults encouraged to seek out their own self improvement as children see everything we do and are likely to imitate our moods, tempers, etc. Keeping a tidy, orderly environment helps children stay calm, and distraction at this age is one of the best ways to redirect behavior (something I've certainly noticed with Milllie). One thing I'll definitely take away from this book is the advice to avoid too many questions and choices as this can be burdonsome or overwhelming to young children. I find myself constantly asking Millie: "Should we go outside?" (hey, Megs - she's 17 months old, she isn't going to say no!), instead of "It's time to go outside!" The book ends with instructions on how to make simple Waldorf dolls, something I've found is quite common in Waldorf books. Since reading this book I've watched a few You Tube videos of Waldorf preschools, where long-braided hippie-looking instructors gently guide children through their daily routines which involves nature, play, baking, and storytelling from memory. Sadly we have no Waldorf schools in this area, but I hope to use these principles in our home. Overall, this was an easy read with lots of good principles and something I'll probably re-read as Millie continues to grow.

Little Pink Toggle Coat

2011-12-23T13:29:00.005-07:00

I made a coat and I'm so pleased. I almost wrote "sew pleased" which is kind of scary. Next thing you know, I'll be sporting a "my sewing machine is smarter than your honors student" bumper sticker on my car.

I used the School Days jacket & coat pattern from Oliver + S, and once again I only have good things to say about these patterns. This was a 3 scissors out of 4 difficulty, and I was a bit intimidated by the idea of making a coat. The pattern proved easy to follow, however, and I didn't really run into any snags.

I used a light pink wool I picked up on our family trip to New Orleans in October. I fell in love with the wool once I felt how soft it was. It's not a particularly heavy wool, however, so I constructed an interlining out of thinsulate (essentially a second lining using the lining pattern pieces) which I sandwiched between the regular lining and the wool shell. The thinsulate makes the coat a bit puffier and warmer which is nice. I wish I could take credit for this idea, but it was featured on Oliver + S blog and I just followed the instructions. I used the 12-18 month size, but took the shoulders in about 1/4 inch on each side, since Millie's a bit small up top.

And although I'm sure my Husky would have been up to the challenge, I borrowed my mom's fancy computerized sewing machine to sew together the thick layers. I used a gray cotton fabric with little pink and red cherries for the lining, which was purchased locally and is from Moda. Overall, I'm happy with how it turned out. I learned so much with this pattern and hope to repeat it in the future. Once again I traced the original so that I could reuse it.

I'm pretty sure my girl likes it, too. She actually keeps the hood on which is a first. And I feel good knowing it keeps her nice and warm in the freezing cold. (Hard to believe how cold it is without any snow!)

Baby In Hat

2011-12-20T19:28:00.003-07:00

Can I still call her a baby even though she's technically a toddler? Never mind, every cell in my body says YES!

5:07 p.m.

2011-12-07T22:30:00.004-07:00

Waiting for Leonard to come home...

Mess-free finger painting (this is why I love pinterest)

Toddler vs. Tree

Learning to say "cheese!"

Train Shirt

2011-12-04T14:42:00.006-07:00

Well I finally finished another one of my aforementioned projects. I've been planning this shirt for some time and thought it would be perfect for fall. I was drawn to the fabric initially because it reminded me of the pattern worn by old fashioned train conductors.

I placed the stripes horizontal for the bodice and vertical everywhere else. And since the dark gray blue pattern is a bit masculine I added a ruffle on the front and back to feminize it a bit.

I used the music class blouse pattern from Oliver + S. It was my first time using one of their patterns, and I loved it. The instructions were very clear and even contained options on finishing seams, etc. along with tips to make it look more polished. Millie's a bit narrow through the shoulders and chest, so I made the 6-12 month size up top with the length and width of the 12-18 month size for the bottom two thirds.

I learned a lot of new things with this pattern. First off, it's the first shirt I've ever made so attaching a collar was new. The pattern gives the option of pintucks or gathers below the bodice and I chose pintucks as I'd never done those before. They were a bit tricky but also quite rewarding. And since buttonholes aren't my favorite thing to sew, I used snaps instead which was also a first. I went painstakingly slow as I wanted to get it just right, so it took me a bit of time. I hope to make more in the future, and hopefully quicker now that I've made it once. Luckily I thought to trace the pattern with tissue paper so I didn't have to cut up the original.

Treasured tot with tucked in train attire! (we've been reading lots of Dr. Seuss)

Botany Beige

2011-11-30T19:48:00.010-07:00

Botany Beige by Kwal

Botany Beige is my nemesis.

Leonard and I have lived in this house for two and a half years now, and other than decorating Millie's room, it looks pretty similar to when we moved in. That's not to say I don't have big plans for this place. I've got big plans. Plans that occupy my mind those last moments before falling asleep. That give me pause while cleaning the kitchen, my mind a whirl of paint colors and tile. That cause me to furrow my brow and murmur things like "hmm.." or clack my tongue while looking at a bare wall and contemplating bold artwork. I'm glad we haven't done any big projects yet as I feel like I've been marinating in this house, figuring out it's strengths and flaws. It certainly has it's strengths - open floor plan, spacious rooms, beautiful wood work.

But as for flaws, it's greatest is botany beige. Botany beige is a nice enough color. A safe neutral, used frequently on walls to add warmth and complement many design styles. However, this is the color the builder chose for all the interior woodwork. It covers the trim, columns, baseboards, window pane casings, and even some of the exterior doors. Even the bleeping outlets are botany beige. To make it pop, a fairly dark milk chocolate brown color was used on the walls which do make the botany beige look light. That is, until you put a white piece of paper against it and realize that botany beige isn't light at all. And that's where my design dilemma comes in. When it comes to color palettes, I'm a gray girl. I like cool light grays, blue grays, and charcoals. And those colors would look great in this house, but certainly not against botany beige. And since Leonard and I are planning a revamp of the sewing room (coming soon!), I needed to figure out a good salmon pink (bold, I know!) for my cabinets, but in order to do that I needed to know what wall color I should choose, and in order to that I needed an arsenal of tones that would complement Botany Beige. So I went to a local Benjamin Moore store yesterday to get some help from their color consultant as my mom entertained and toddled with my toddler.

November Rain by Benjamin Moore

Turns out Botany Beige has purple undertones, and any of those cool grays I like would bring those out, which is why they just won't do. Francine, my matter-of-fact and knowledgeable consultant, recommended yellows or greens for the walls. I wasn't interested. So we settled on a warm, light, gray green called November Rain. And I'm in love. I bought a sample and painted a poster board, and as Francine recommended, I've been moving it around from room to room at different times during the day. Sometimes it looks gray, sometimes the greenish tinges subtly shine through, and sometimes it looks like an off-white. It's gray enough that it doesn't look minty and green enough that it still looks warm, but not too warm. And it looks pretty nice against that conniving Botany Beige. My plan is to start off with November Rain on the walls of the sewing room and see how we like it, then eventually use it to cover up those brown walls in the larger living spaces of the house.

Coral Buff by Benjamin Moore

And speaking of the sewing room, I bought some Ikea cabinets which I'm having painted. I feel like I can be bolder in this room since it's meant to inspire all sorts of creativity, so I thought a salmon pink would be a good choice for the cabinets. I wanted it to be an orangey pink, kinda like the black sheep of the pink family. We finally decided on Coral Buff which is bold but not too bright and goes great with November Rain as well as Regent Green, another color I plan to use in the sewing room and throughout the rest of the house.

Regent Green by Benjamin Moore

I'm satisfied with what I've got so far, and I couldn't have done it without Francine. Well, Francine and the color that inspired it all. Botany Beige helped me step out of my cool gray tone comfort zone, so thanks BB!

Millie's Lovey

2011-11-05T18:06:00.007-06:00

Oh, did I say I'd post daily for a month? Yikes, I should have said two weeks. My goal was to re-motivate myself to post more regularly, so I'll count it as a success.

Well, I finally finished one of my projects. I've been wanting to sew my girl a lovey for some time, and at 14 months I figure now is a good time to introduce one. I saw this little long-eared softie in Stuffed Magazine, originally created by an artist named Minu, and decided I'd recreate him for Millie. I didn't have a pattern so I essentially drew out the body with room for a seam allowance and then made the ears and arms in proportion. The original artist used a darning foot to create the eyes and lashes, but since I don't have one I went ahead and handstitched the face.

If successful, loveys can certainly undergo a lot of abuse, so I figured I'd go for some higher quality materials. I ordered the fur and stuffing from the same place the artist recommended, and even though it cost a bit more, the quality is definitely better than what I would have picked up at JoAnn's.

I really like the long length of the cotton fur, and the wool felt is quite soft. I was especially impressed with the stuffing material. Usually when I stuff a pillow with the typical commercial polyfil, it's not long before they turn a bit lumpy. But this material allowed me to firmly stuff the body while lightly stuffing the ears and arms to give a floppy affect, and thus far everything has stayed in its place.

Of course, I had to personalize it a bit!

At first Millie was a bit confused by the new addition. I started introducing him everytime we'd nurse, and also at bedtime. She'd look at him suspiciously and then was fairly indifferent. But with time she'd play peek-a-boo with his ears and trace his eyes. Now whenever it's bedtime I say "Go get Lovey!" and she searches him out, squeezes him tight, and keeps him with her during our routine.

Halloween 2011

2011-11-01T10:33:00.006-06:00

After resigning myself to the fact that a lumberjack costume just wasn't in the cards for this year's Halloween, we ended pulling together a great last minute pioneer costume for Millie. My mom had brought back this adorable tiny bonnet from Amish country earlier this year, so we based the costume around that.

I originally planned to have her wear last year's little brown dress, but alas it was just barely too small. I was pleasantly surprised though when my mom brought her to our work Halloween party yesterday afternoon in this little get up.

This black and white gingham dress has been sitting in her closet for the past year, unworn. It was the first dress I ever made, back when she was about four months old. It was my introduction to the bogus sizing of children's patterns - this dress was size newborn. Now, at 14 months it finally fits. There's no zipper in the back yet so my mom improvised with some stick on velcro tabs. Genius! She also grabbed some black tights and boots and got her to the party just in time.

I made the apron also last minute, using some fabric I had laying around for some well intentioned, but probably will never be realized, sewing project.

Pioneer baby out past her bedtime = Halloween Hardship!

Also, remember last year's gnome visit?

Hope you had a great Halloween!

Darth Baby

2011-10-05T23:55:00.000-06:00

Here's a photo I found while browsing my photo library.

This was taken at my good pal Natalie's house, where objects like Darth Vader helmets are commonplace:

Fall Conference Weekend 2011

2011-10-03T23:10:00.006-06:00

Now that we're three, I've been feeling the need to get more out of our family vacations. You know, all of that "creating memories" for your kids stuff that people talk about. And since conference weekend for us typically involves lots of TV time and not much else, I decided this was a good place to start. We spent the weekend in McCall and though we watched conference, we were sure to fill up our spare time with some quality family activities.

On Saturday afternoon we hiked up to Duck Lake. It's a short hike, only ~2 miles total which was perfect with baby. I had Millie in the Ergo carrier the entire way and I'm pretty sure this experience taught her patience. Our independent, wandering baby whined and arched her back for the first five minutes, but eventually relaxed and enjoyed her ride up and down the side of the mountain.

Here's Duck Lake. Other than a couple of hunters descending as we hiked up, we were the only people there. It was long sleeve weather and just beautiful. McCall is great, but an uncrowded McCall is even better.

Baby skinny jeans + fleece vest = baby hiking fashionista.

My parents were also in McCall and it was nice to spend a relaxing weekend with them. I really wanted to go to Burgdorf hot springs Saturday night, but figured it would prove to be too much time in the car for our little one. Maybe next time!

Here she is on a walk to the beach. She could care less about that pinecone, she was just humoring me. Her nose was quite leaky and the not-so-prepared me forgot to bring a kleenex, so I went all Pocahontas and used a leaf instead.

Payette lake with a receding water line.

I now understand that family vacations take careful planning when you've got a kid. I'm striving for a balance of relaxation and engaging activity, yummy foods that are easy to prepare and not overly calorie laden, and a structured plan that allows for flexibility. I think we did pretty good this time.

For Ron, the D-Backs' biggest fan

2011-09-29T00:32:00.004-06:00

Blerg.

2011-09-28T23:51:00.001-06:00

Isn't that what Liz Lemon says? Or is it Liz Lemon impersonating Cathy?

Today was a wash. My only accomplishment was dinner; a tomatillo chicken enchilada casserole, low on cheese so fairly healthy with a side of black beans. Millie spent the day at my heels, arms extended, whining to be held. Here are some random thoughts since I'm just not feeling creative:

Back when she tolerated sunglasses.

I can't decide on Millie's Halloween costume. I've been planning on a lumberjack for some time complete with flannel shirt, bushy red hair and beard, but I know she'll rip the beard off immediately and then she'd just look like Pat from SNL or something.

I went to WinCo pretty early this morning and for the first time ever it wasn't crowded. I was proud of myself for the new shopping plan since Millie can only handle so much time in a cart. Then I looked around and noticed that of the people there, about 90% of them were women with babies. I guess I'm not the only one who thinks ahead.

Speaking of WinCo, Leonard and I saw a man once eating literally 1/2 an entire fried chicken while he shopped. My hand was itching for the camera on my cell phone but I refrained.

I had a patient yell at me the other day for not prescribing narcotics. Before entering the room I took a few deep breaths and planned what I was going to say, though it wouldn't have mattered anyway. After three years of this job I've tried to develop a thick skin but being screamed at still affects me. I later coped by nursing my baby while watching a Jane Austen inspired made-for-TV movie.

I've developed a late night second wind. After Millie goes to bed I'm zapped but by 10 p.m. I feel pretty good. When I start to think of all the things I could be doing that would take 1/5 of the time it would when my girl is awake, I get going. Tonight I made a huge bowl of salsa, the ingredients straight from my garden. This would have been an accomplishment except that I originally intended to preserve the salsa until I realized in order to do that I'd have to let other daily tasks slack which I didn't want to do. Coming to that decision was both disappointing and liberating.

I'm glad the Internet didn't exist when I was 12. If the Internet would have existed then I surely would have had a blog, and let's face it, I was odd at 12. And since they say nothing is ever truly deleted from the Internet, I'd have a permanent reminder of my weirdness. Though maybe I'll be feeling those sentiments reading this post at age 50.

When Komodo Dragons Attack

2011-09-27T22:43:00.005-06:00

Millie had quite the encounter with a komodo dragon at the Boise Zoo this past Labor Day. Thank goodness for plexiglass, though I'm sure our girl could hold her own with her grunting, screeching, and eyeball grasping skills.

My favorite pic of the day:

Oat Cakes

2011-09-26T23:50:00.004-06:00

These oat cakes are a recent favorite of ours. I found this recipe while searching for baked oatmeal as Millie was no longer interested in being spoon fed. The recipe book they come from focuses on natural foods and the oat cakes' ingredients like coconut oil and maple syrup reflect that. They contain some super healthy ingredients; about 1/4 cup rolled oats apiece as well as whole wheat pastry flour, flax seeds, and walnuts. The maple syrup gives them an earthy kind of sweetness. These oat cakes are quite filling and I like to eat one mid-afternoon when I typically get rather snack happy. This recipe has sold me on the book and I'll be ordering it soon.

Oat Cakes

From Super Natural Every Day: Well-Loved Recipes from My Natural Foods Kitchen

by Heidi Swanson

3 cups rolled oats
2 cups spelt flour or whole wheat pastry flour
1/2 teaspoon aluminum-free baking powder
2 teaspoons fine-grain sea salt
1/4 cup 45 g flax seeds
3/4 cup chopped walnuts, lightly toasted
1/3 cup extra-virgin coconut oil
1/3 cup unsalted butter
3/4 cup maple syrup
1/2 cup natural cane sugar
2 large eggs, lightly beaten

Preheat the oven to 325°F / 160°C with a rack in the top third of the oven. Butter a standard 12-cup muffin pan.

Combine the oats, flour, baking powder, salt, flax seeds, and walnuts in a large mixing bowl.

In a medium saucepan over low heat, combine the coconut oil, butter, maple syrup, and sugar and slowly melt together. Stir just until the butter melts and sugar has dissolved, but don’t let the mixture get too hot. You don’t want it to cook the eggs on contact in the next step.

Pour the coconut oil mixture over the oat mixture. Stir a bit with a fork, add the eggs, and stir again until everything comes together into a wet dough. Spoon the dough into the muffin cups, nearly filling them.

Bake for 25 to 30 minutes, until the edges of each oatcake are deeply golden. Remove the pan from the oven and let cool for a couple minutes. Then, run a knife around the edges of the cakes and tip them out onto a cooling rack. Serve warm or at room temperature.

makes 12 oat cakes

Fixin' To

2011-09-25T20:55:00.006-06:00

Leonard and I love the show Hoarders. It's shocking to see homes full to the brim with stuff, most of it useless but nonetheless invaluable to the troubled homeowner. I've certainly got my own problems but it makes me feel good to know that hoarding is not one of them. At least that's what I thought until a recent episode. The crew was helping a man whose yard was full of junk, mostly machinery and old cars. The man insisted he had big plans for each item. The professional organizer hired to help the man referred to him as a "fixin' to" hoarder, meaning that he had an impossible amount of projects he was "fixin' to get to" but that he would never be able to finish. I'm afraid I started to see a bit of myself in that old man hoarder. Between sewing, home decorating, gardening, cooking, and just general home improvement, I've got countless projects on my mind. Admitting the problem is the first step, so there you have it.

Here's a sneak peek of two such sewing projects I'm working on:

I'll blog about them when they're done. If there is never a post that corresponds with the above supplies, just know that in about 20 years you can find me living in squalor beneath a pile of fabric and patterns, my sewing machine dusty but my mind actively planning.

Yogurt Facies: When baby decides she's capable of feeding herself

2011-09-24T18:09:00.003-06:00

And now back to Leonard...

2011-09-23T21:00:00.003-06:00

Our first photo together early in courtship. I put a barrette in Leonard's hair to match my own feminine short locks. The chick on the left was flirting up a storm with him that night. Sorry lady, twinsy hairstyles wins every time

I married my twin:

We scored the same on our high school ACTs.

We went to the same University and Master's Program and have the same profession working at the same clinic.

We both have nerdy/advanced senses of humor - I'm still chuckling at Leonard's comment of "I'll bet he's got all dominant genes" during our Sunday School lesson about the physical attributes of God.

We both think snuggle-napping is the perfect cure for any problem.

I married my opposite:

His phone has numerous apps and is always near his side so he can keep updated on his techy blogs. I use mine to call other people and I have no idea where it is currently.

I'm constantly throwing things out, organizing and reorganizing our possessions. Leonard would be a hoarder if I allowed it.

Leonard has zero tolerance for anything gooey, crumbly, or smeary on his hands or face. I eat the outer chocolate layer of a 3 Musketeers bar first, my fingers covered in sticky delicious nougat when I'm done. I may or may not lick them clean.

I love baths. Leonard considers them "soaking in my own filth."

Beanie Baby

2011-09-22T19:49:00.007-06:00

Thanks to our girl, Leonard and I are eating our legumes. It started with a simple and easy chickpea salad recipe I got hooked on from Bon Appetit magazine when she was starting finger foods. We gave her some of the chickpeas to try and she loved them. She's since proven her appetite for pretty much any bean: kidney, black, pinto, black eyed peas, you name it. We've since incorporated more beans into our diet and here are some of our favorite recipes:

photo via Bon Appetit

Chickpea Salad with Lemons, Parmesan, and Fresh Herbs from Bon Appetit magazine

I rarely read articles from cooking magazines, I mostly just dream about the recipes. But I did read the associated article and it has convinced me to shoot for quality ingredients, even when they come from a can.

(not) Refried Beans from Budget Bytes

Here's a simple recipe for healthy crock pot refried beans. It calls for pinto beans but I made it with black beans and it was a success. These also freeze well which is nice. I've never been big on crock pot meals, in fact, I'll admit I've turned my nose down at them a time or two. I've now learned the error of my ways and I'm appreciating my crock pot and am using it more.

Cowboy Caviar

I loved this one. I'd never heard of Cowboy Caviar until a co-worker brought some into work from the Boise Co-Op. It's basically a bean and corn salsa and it's delicious. We'll be making this in the winter when fresh tomatoes aren't available. I copied down the ingredients from the container and pretty much added as much of each ingredient I felt was appropriate. There are lots of recipes for Cowboy Caviar online. I really liked the apple cider vinegar in this one.

Ingredients: Black Beans, Corn, Black Eyed Peas, Pinto Beans, Onions, Cider Vinegar, Bell Peppers, Cilantro, Vegetable Oil, Salt

Bovine Sugar Fest

2011-09-21T22:00:00.005-06:00

Tonight was "Standards Night" for Young Women's. I offered to bring dessert and since the budget was more than usual, I went with the night's cow theme and made a dessert table similar to last year's. The table included cow cake pops, french macaroons, mini cupcakes, oreos, and vanilla punch.

Tired of dealing with hiding styrofoam in deep dishes to hold the pops, I nicely asked Leonard to drill holes in a random piece of wood we had lying around. It worked great.

Here's the table with the typical church backdrop of folding chairs. These pictures aren't great. Taking pictures of your own stuff in front of other people is embarrassing.

p.s. the tablecloth was not my idea, I was going for 'mod black and white cow'

p.p.s. i feel really lame that I just clarified that

The vanilla punch was a hit with the 12 year olds. Thanks to the Internet, I emptied out bottles of Starbucks Frappachino and used them as makeshift milk bottles. Afterwards I discretely gathered them up to be reused for future parties, though I felt like a lady shoving crackers into her purse at the buffet line.

Afterward I told Leonard, "why didn't I just make a plate of brownies and leave it at that?" Though I'm pretty sure I said that last time, and I'll probably say it next time too.

Brown

2011-09-20T22:54:00.006-06:00

Brown hair.

Barefoot in garage = brown baby feet

Chocolate brown mini cupcakes for tomorrow's Young Women's activity.

Sunset

2011-09-19T21:19:00.007-06:00

Continuing the tradition.

Today I drove to my parent's house to pick up Millie after work. The sun is low in the sky and it's only a matter of time before the magnificent sunset the high desert silhouette will inevitably produce. I stay as long as I think Millie will last before a past-her-bedtime meltdown. By the time we're readying to leave, the horizon is a purply glow.

"Megan, look at the clouds" my dad says, pointing at the wispy, almost fuschia colored clouds in the distance. "They look like they've been painted on with a brush," I reply. And then I smile, because the conversation is almost predictable. Since I was a child my dad has been commenting on sunsets. He'd stop and point out the colors while walking into the house from the car on a cold winter evening. The reverence he'd use would make everyone pause and absorb the scene despite the weather, until one by one we'd retreat while he lingered a little while longer. On a quiet fall evening he'd call me to the porch, the door wide open, "Megan, come look at this." A spring break home from college, our house full of rowdy teenagers, I'd see him looking out the window and hear him barely audible above the crowd, "What a sunset!"

I'm always disappointed when I spot a sunset and my company doesn't seem impressed. "Look at that," I'll say and make some comment about the colors or shapes. If they give only a murmur of agreement or simply change the subject, I'm almost offended. From my upbringing, sunsets were meant to be revered, enjoyed for the moment because they'll soon be gone and there will no longer be an identical one to take its place.

I say goodbye to my parents after putting my back arching baby into the car. I watch in my rearview mirror as the sunset change hues and intensity until there is only darkness. And I realize that just as my dad can't help but comment on a sunset, I'll never see one and not think of him.

A Jaunt to the Past

2011-09-18T19:20:00.009-06:00

On Skype with Grandma Irene as I cook dinner

I overdid it on dinner tonight, though it was delicious to be sure. Lebanese Turkey Stuffed Eggplant with Tabbouleh on the side, many of the ingredients fresh from my garden. Since going part-time I've made it a goal to cook about 4 homemade dinners a week, focusing on easy to prepare, healthy but interesting meals. Unfortunately, tonight's dinner took longer than I had expected. By the time we're done eating, Leonard and I crash on the couch, me exhausted from hours of cooking, him from hours of Millie tending. Soon we would have to start Bedtime Routine and then clean up the kitchen. But as often happens when we want to relax, Millie continues to explore every inch of this house. This time I hear her entering our bedroom. "Is the bathroom door closed?" I ask. "Yes, I made sure" he answers. But still there's the low bedside tables for her to climb on, among other dangers. "Where's Millie?" he cries in a sing-song voice that fakes playfulness through his fatigue. He then turns to me. "Can you imagine if we could go back before she was born? Just for like a day or two?"

We talk about it with the same eagerness of two starving people discussing their favorite foods. The extra time. Weekends sleeping in. Sunday naps. Dates. No schedule, plans made on a whim. Leaving the house without gathering a bag of necessities and just-in-cases. Visiting friends without following her around, taking breakables and choke-sized knick knacks out of her hands as she roams. It seems heavenly, and we laugh and muse at the thought.

We hear her walk back into the room; as always she's fallen for his hide and seek trick, and when she rounds the corner we see her pulling a comb through what little hair she has. She proceeds to try out the comb on me and then her dad, testing the resistance and giggling at the whole experience. Leonard and I look at each other and shake our heads like we always do when her antics are too cute for words.

I decide that I wouldn't like our pre-Millie visit for the same reason I would never want to win the lottery. It would have it's perks to be sure, but soon I'd be so overwhelmed with what was missing that I would no longer enjoy them. In the case of the lottery, the satisfaction and self-esteem that comes from building a home, a life, a career on our own hard work. And in the case of the other, a curious little being that, though exhausting, has enriched our lives more than I think we'll ever know.

Blog Limbo

2011-09-17T12:39:00.000-06:00

I'm in blog limbo. And not in the really cool bend backwards under the broomstick kind of way. Life has changed, and so has this blog. I'm busier after having a baby than I expected and though I frequently come up with ideas for new posts (typically while cleaning for some reason), I rarely write them down. I definitely want to keep blogging, I'm just not sure what angle or tone this blog should have. To help solve my dilemma, I've decided to post every day for the next month. That's right. So far I've blogged about 100 posts and in the next month I'm going to increase that number by 130%. I know this for certain because I just calculated it. Maybe after so much forced writing I'll figure this whole thing out, though with daily posting don't expect top quality!

One

2011-09-01T18:29:00.011-06:00

Family Photos - Summer 2011

2011-07-25T21:19:00.010-06:00

Because what's cuter than a baldie with a little black bow?

Here are some of my faves:

Spring Dress

2011-05-04T20:28:00.006-06:00

My girl wouldn't stop bugging me to make her a dress for Spring. She wanted something girly and structured, in a rosy color. When the nagging wouldn't stop, I finally gave in and finished her dress just in time for Easter.

I used the same base pattern as her wool dress, but again I altered it like crazy. This little jumper sports a ruffly front. Like the wool dress it's fully lined, but this time I had a better idea of what I was doing and didn't end up with any raw edges showing.

Instead of buttons all the way down the back I just placed them on the bodice back and constructed a placket (also a first!) The placket, though not perfect, was a great learning experience and something I hope to improve on.

And since babies tend to grow quickly, there's an extra inch in the hem and the buttons can be moved over, so hopefully this dress will last through Summer. I'm afraid these dresses aren't just a passing fancy. I'm currently working on two more and have a gazillion brewing in my head. If only I felt this passionately about exercise. Or housecleaning.

Easter Baby

2011-04-26T22:33:00.004-06:00

Thirty, Purty, and Flirty

2011-04-10T21:52:00.002-06:00

I am now 30 and I couldn't be happier.

As I start this new chapter in my life, I reflect on my twenties and wonder what all the hype was about. Sure, I could wear my hair in messy pigtail buns and get away with it. But with all the wandering from place to place, trying to figure out where I fit in this world and what I wanted out of it, I'm kind of happy to see them go.

Don't get me wrong, I did some really great things in my twenties. I had a great college experience, traveled, and made some lasting friendships not to mention started my family. But somewhere in my early twenties I realized I had my whole life ahead of me and big dreams that would all depend on the decisions made by a still maturing young woman. Decisions about my college major, my future career, my future spouse. I sometimes felt overwhelmed with the pressure of those decisions, and probably put a bit too much pressure on myself. Did I have to double major in college? Was it imperative that I work full time that one summer while taking 12 credits online?

My mid-twenties were met with a doting husband and adjustment to married life which went fairly smoothly. Together we were poor married college students figuring out our future together. Except this brought new, different challenges. Working full time + college full time = tough. More career decisions and the realization that the choices made would affect my future family, and trying to find a way to happily have both.

My late twenties began with PA school, my two years "in the service" as I like to say. It was a lesson in endurance and the only thing that got me through was knowing it would pay off. Same with starting my job - tough at first, but knowing that every case, every treatment plan, every difficult patient would make a similar future scenario that much easier. I guess that was the tone of my twenties - take that tough class here, sacrifice a summer in the sun there, live apart from your spouse almost an entire year, and it will all pay off eventually. Well, now I'm ready for the eventually.

My twenties involved sowing the seeds that would promise a better third decade. Now that it's here, I'm greeting it with open arms. Goodbye twenty-something Megs, thanks for your hard work and adventurous spirit but I've had it with the moving from apartment to apartment, the high pressure decisions, the uncertainty. You had great skin, but I'll take my smile lines and the abdominal result of pregnancy that I lovingly refer to as my "tiger stripes" any day. Here's to my thirties. May I enjoy the fruits of my twenties and sow some nice things to help me greet my forties in a similar manner.

Millie's Place

2011-03-29T16:25:00.013-06:00

It's high time I wrote about Millie's room. It's been 90% finished for some time, but Leonard and I finally made the finishing touches and it is now complete!

Amelia's gender was a surprise, so this room presented a design challenge as I wanted it mostly finished before her birth. We decided to go with a neutral base that could be genderized with accessories once we knew if baby was a he or a she. I've been eyeing that crib for the past three years or so. You might even say I wanted it so badly that I decided to have a baby in order to get it. Just kidding, kind of.

We chose light blue paint and an accent wall with scandinavian yellow tree wallpaper I've been coveting for awhile. I wish I could say I did all of that work but I can't. Leonard has this weird idea that pregnant ladies shouldn't be on ladders, so we had lots of help. Ron, Irene, and Mandy came all the way from Utah just to paint our walls (Georges = expert painters). And in the ultimate act of generosity, my mom spent two full days wallpapering that wall as I elevated my feet, ate twizzlers, and gestated.

I considered going all out for the bedding. But I loved the lines of the crib so much that I decided to keep it simple. That pink afghan was actually given to us by the hospital. Apparently they have volunteers make hats and blankets for all newborn babies - we lucked out big time and got this beautiful chevron-patterned afghan made with super soft yarn (Sorry to you suckahs that got the hat!). That's Millie's blessing dress on the wall by the way - eek, so little!

For the mobile I made fabric origami cranes.

I painted that pink hippo. It's based off of the packaging of a baby shower gift from my itsy bitsy teeny weenie sister Molly.

I sewed these drapes at the height of nesting/mania. I finished them the day after Millie's due date. As that day approached people would ask me if I was upset that the baby hadn't come yet to which I'd respond "the baby can't get here yet, I haven't finished the drapes!" Maybe those drapes were a physical representation of my inner anxiety at being a mom yadda yadda psycho babble.

I went ten days overdue. So after the drapes I sewed this elephant. Leonard thought I was nuts.

Here's Millie's changing station and dresser.

I got the artwork off of etsy.

This is the mirror above Millie's changing table. We angled it so she could look at herself, hoping to keep her occupied and still during diaper changes. It ended up being a good idea as she loved it from the first day.

Here's a younger Millie and myself having fun in that mirror. We actually spend a lot of time there as part of our morning routine, playing peek-a-boo, giggling, and blowing raspberries on her tummy. Hmm...this is sounding awfully mommy-bloggy!

Here's her dresser. Those nesting birds were given to me by my mom. And that's an elephant shaped humidifier in case you were wondering.

That wall on the right was tricky. The door to the room opens and occludes most of that wall, so I figured any artwork there would be partially hidden and look awkward. So instead we bought picture ledges and used them as book shelves.

Leonard the handyman installed them himself. Not bad! This is the only complete room in our house and since we hope to have more munchkins one day, we plan on keeping it a nursery that will hopefully be flexible for future babies' discerning tastes.

Cancun, Mexico 2011

2011-03-09T08:38:00.010-07:00

A baby sized palm tree

Leonard, Millie and I just returned from Cancun after 6 days of fun in the sun. It was great to leave the cold, dreary Idaho weather behind and enjoy tropical sunny paradise.

First time in the ocean!

Cancun has lots to offer - ancient ruins, sightseeing, shopping, deep sea fishing. We passed on all of that and other than one short trip into the city, we spent our time swimming and getting some much needed rest and relaxation (as much as can be had with a six month old).

Die hard swimmer, even in the rain

Trip Highlights:

The taxi ride into Cancun

Reading good books:
Leonard - Strong Fathers, Strong Daughters by Meg Meeker (highly recommended!)
Me - The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro (a great read - excited to see the movie)
The No Cry Sleep Solution by Elizabeth Patley (was trying to hold off on this, but the vacation solidified that it's time)

Early morning walks on the beach, just me and Millie.

Amelia, your bed head is embarrassing.

Amelia's giggle fest every time we went into the pool.

Perfecting her splashing technique.

The sun, scenery, and warm breezes accelerating Amelia's development. On this trip she began saying "Da-Da," slept unswaddled, began teething, and starting babbling during crying which serves her well as it's heartbreaking to hear.

Family Nap

Finally learning to sleep unswaddled!

Amelia being a local celebrity. There weren't a lot of kids at our resort, so everywhere we went we were greeted by a chorus of "It's Amelia! Hey Amelia, what's up!"

Stylin' with her Elizabeth Taylor sunglasses

Eating seafood for every meal.

Dressed up for dinner

Amelia doing great on the airplane, even though we were sitting next to the crankiest anti-babies-on-airplane frowny faced passenger on earth.

Hat = baldie sun protection

Dressing Millie up in outfits appropriate for every occasion.

Having some really great chats with Leonard. Sure, we talk all the time, but there's something about being on vacation away from daily pressures that gets the thoughts flowing. From lengthy discussions on the nature of God to superficial ones like how weird pinky toenails are.

New all-time favorite photo

The vacation was wonderful, and I'm already planning a repeat for next year. We booked our hotel arrangements through Jetsetter which saved us a ton. And though traveling with Amelia was a really great experience, and it really was, we might consider a vacation for just the two of us next time.

Solids are Overrated

2011-03-01T13:51:00.005-07:00

5 month addiction

2011-02-15T23:03:00.019-07:00

Hello, my name is Megan **deep breath** and I'm an Amelioholic.

The other night I sat holding Millie as she slept in my arms. I tickled her bald head and chubby cheeks while Leonard looked on, the day drawing to an end. I was contemplating how long I would hold her before putting her down - maybe we'd just stay like this all night! I could feel my love for her swelling, expanding, threatening to overtake my human form. "It couldn't possibly get any better than this," I thought. As if in response Amelia stirred, startled. Upon seeing me her eyes relaxed into contentment. Lips pursed together, she blew me a lazy, slow-motion raspberry and then fell right back asleep. "Did you see that?" I mouthed to Leonard, who nodded, doubled over in silent laughter.

Amelia at 5 months is a sweet, goofy, roly poly, cooing, grabby, jabbering, dimpley, toothless grin of a baby whose cuteness emits tiny molecules that cross my blood brain barrier and keep me coming back for more. It starts first thing in the morning; her entire body smiles with excitement at seeing me. I'm instantly hooked and spend the next three hours intoxicated by her charms: airplane rides to the changing table, 10 minutes of peek-a-boo with giggles arising from deep within her chest, watching her maneuver a toy in her hands with the concentration of a world class chess player. When nap time arrives I busy myself with tasks around the house, withdrawal threatening if she sleeps longer than usual. Once awake, I again get my fix and the fun continues.

I recognize I'm not alone in this. I've noticed the signs during well child checks of babies this age. Parents unable to take their eyes off their infant, pride and adoration in their eyes. Happy babies who smile at every goofy face or gibberish-speak presented to them. I knew I'd be one of them, I just didn't understand the strength of the attraction. Her adorability is so vast, any comment about it seems trite - exclamations by passersby of "Oh, she's so cute!" cause me to simply nod affirmatively in agreement, no "Oh, do you think so?" will escape my lips. You may as well tell me that the sky is blue.

Right now I am her entire Universe. Giver of comfort, supplier of food, performing artist of her favorite lullabies, instructor in completion of developmental milestones, comedian extraordinaire, 5 star rated shoulder to sleep on. In return she rewards me with her constant adoration and preference. I completely understand that this phase is temporary. With time I'll be forced to exert more energy to obtain the same affection and gasp! one day she'll actually look to me as the cause of her anger or frustration.

But for the moment I am going to enjoy my high.

BowerLeonard

2011-02-07T20:56:00.019-07:00

The bowerbird is considered one of the most romantic of all species. In his attempt to court a mate, the male bowerbird will construct a bower, or dwelling, out of sticks. He will then elaborately decorate the bower with colorful objects such as shells, feathers, berries, or rocks. The flashier the bower, the more likely his success.

Leonardism:

Sometimes clinic can be busy. Working with the underserved population carries a high no-show rate, and our schedules are overbooked accordingly. So when everyone does show up, things can get crazy. Like, figure out how to solve 12 unhealthy patients' multiple medical problems in four hours while still focusing on preventative health measures and whittling away at a few social issues kind of crazy. Leonard and I handle this intense experience very differently. I rush from room to room, my neanderthalesque brow appearing occasionally in response to the situation, avoiding any distractions. Leonard focuses on being efficient, but periodically requires micro-breaks as a means of respite, and his main outlet is my office. He'll pop in for a moment, we'll discuss a case, I'll ask him for a piece of gum, etc. But when I'm in a patient room Leonard encounters an empty desk - and that's when the magic happens. I'll return to my office to find my dermatology book lying on the keyboard, strategically opened to display a revolting pus-ridden rash. My pens and pencils arranged into the shape of a heart. Or my all-time favorite, a large summer zuchinni given to me by a co-worker leaning against my mouse, the computer screen displaying numerous thumbnails of zuchinni photos from Google Images as though the squash were surfing the web. Each time I'd encounter one of Leonard's "gifts" I'd shake my head and smile, feeling somewhat scandalous for this workplace wooing. The feelings ilicited by a dozen roses would have paled in comparison.

With my new part-time schedule, Leonard and I rarely work together. I figured this special flirtation of his would be yet another victim to all the changes a 12 pound munchkin has inflicted in our lives, and prepared myself as such. And so I wasn't expecting anything special this last Saturday morning as I typed away on my laptop in bed, Leonard making Millie laugh next to me with Chewbacca-esque sounds. The cute/cheesy calendar valentines for Young Women's were finished, and I went to retrieve them from the printer.

When I returned, this is what I saw:

Same joke, different prop.

I shook my head and smiled.

Leonard, consider this post my affirmative response.

Look Who's Talking

2011-01-25T22:34:00.007-07:00

Millie's Aunt Emily bought her this great onesie with its own blank communication bubble, which really got me thinking - what would Millie say if she could? Here are some ideas:

Baking Bread: a return to the calm

2011-01-17T23:41:00.012-07:00

I've started baking bread again. You might think "oh, that's nice" or "big woop." But for me this is a loaded statement and has less to do with the actual food and more to do with the my current state of being. You see, I go through phases of bread feast and bread famine, phases which correspond to my inner sense of chaos.

Bread baking for me began during my last semester of college. For the first time I was working full-time but only taking a partial load at school - I only had one measly online course before graduating. I wasn't used to the extra time I was enjoying. Suddenly the house was cleaner, I was complaining less and smiling more. And I began to bake bread. I had asked for - and received - a copy of Peter Reinhardt's 'The Bread Baker's Apprentice' that year for Christmas.

The recipes were complex; one had to read the entire introduction and gain a good understanding of the chemistry involved before attempting any recipes. I read the introduction three times. Most of the breads required multiple steps with "soakers" or "bigas" prepared the night before. Step by step techniques were given on how to properly knead the dough and form a loaf. I ground my own wheat. I went to specialty shops for hard to find ingredients. I bought an extra dough hook for my mixer.

I baked at least 2-3 loaves a week: whole wheat, buttermilk white, multigrain, and Leonard's favorite, marbled rye. To me the process was as lovely as the outcome - mise en place with weighed ingredients divided among cups before being added to the mixer. The leisurely enjoyment of kneading dough while daydreaming. Flour smudged on my apron. Watching the bread rise above the rim of the bowls, and later, the pans. The smell of baking bread. A thick warm slice dripping in butter and honey.

And then Leonard and I went to PA school. Chaos returned, multiplied beyond anything I'd ever experienced. 8 hours a day in class followed by study sessions until bedtime, awaken, repeat. Test anxiety on an almost daily basis. Weekends spent cramming with classmates and trying to reduce my sleep deficit. Two years without baking a single loaf.

Then work began, less stressful but still busy - double and triple checking treatment plans. Always behind on my charts. The transition to a new home, a new life, a new baby. Until now. The newness of those changes has worn off, juggling two days of work a week and baby is doable, and every now and then I find myself with a bit of time on my hands. And so the bread baking began, but with a few changes thanks to a miniature human who allows my hands only brief moments sans rattle or superman maneuvers. Instead of complicated two day loaves I've transitioned to a whole wheat recipe that mixes in 7 minutes and requires only one rise. But the outcome is the same - the satisfaction of weekly delicious healthy loaves for my family to enjoy.

I wish I was the type of person who didn't need a calm environment in order to produce my bread, but I'm not - maybe one day. For now though, if there is fresh homemade bread on my counter, you can bet I'm breathing easy and walking unhurried.

Clothesophobia - cured!

2011-01-10T20:11:00.006-07:00

When I received my sewing machine for Christmas at age 19, I was hooked. The ultimate feminine power tool, my machine allowed me to transform fabric into whatever my imagination desired. My trusty Husqvarna has accompanied me to college and back, and even had a hand in finding my mate. Shortly after we met, I flirted with Leonard while cutting and sewing strips of fabric for a 9 square quilt. I remember him saying what a great seamstress his mom was and that sewing was "a lost art." *Score* Since then, my sewing skills have slowly improved with such money saving home decorating projects as making throw pillows, reupholstering furniture, and constructing drapes.

I'm not afraid of sewing any of those things. I'll do a bit of research and then dive right in. But clothes. Clothes do frighten me. Sew them a bit sloppily or mess up the fit and they scream "homespun." The funny thing is, I asked for a sewing machine because I very dearly wanted to design and sew clothes, but the intimidation stifled my attempts.

And then I had a baby girl. A little doll to dress up and oggle over. My imagination began to go wild over outfits meant to be created for her. The desire to design for my own personal mannequin overpowered my fear. So I found the only newborn size dress pattern in JoAnn's and, armed with my invaluable 1950s Better Homes & Gardens sewing manual, I changed it until it no longer resembled the original, but instead what I had imagined for her.

I learned so much with this dress, and feel like I've gotten my sewing groove back. I now have numerous yards of fabric waiting to be transformed. I'm pleased as punch, and I'd like to think Millie is too:

You'll have to excuse my daughter's vanity.

2011-01-02T22:48:00.005-07:00

Amelia looked so adorable in her little gray dress today, and apparently she knew it. I turn my back for just a few seconds while making lunch, and Homegirl snaps a bunch of pictures of herself making all sorts of runway-worthy faces:

Luckily she let me join in on the fun:

Work it, girl!

Not to be a name dropper, but...

2010-12-15T14:48:00.008-07:00

I happen to know the Jim (I call him Dad) and Joe (I prefer Joey)featured in the most recent episode of America's Heartland:

See the video here:
America's Heartland - Episode 615 - Fort Boise Produce

Saturday Social

2010-12-11T17:03:00.002-07:00

oops....sorry for interrupting!

Early December Likes

2010-12-07T08:13:00.012-07:00

Here are some of the things I've really liked about these first few days of December:

I like that Irene was able to come and stay a few days.
I especially enjoy the soft, sweet voice she uses when talking to Amelia. It makes me want to put on footed pajamas and sit on her knee.

I like that Amelia finally fits into her 0-3 month clothes.
These rainbow pants are my favorite. Mid-abdomen pants are infant fashion at its best!

I really like the facial expressions Amelia made in said pants:

I like that I diagnosed Herpes Zoster Opthalmicus during Saturday walk-in clinic. I've never seen this before in person. I always get a little thrill when I finally see something I've only read about and seen in pictures.

I like the language that has developed between myself and Leonard after 7 years of marriage. What the observer might consider insult-flinging is actually flirtation:

My large pupils. Picture was taken during P.A. school for my meth community outreach project.

We've decided to start reading scriptures together at 10 p.m. every night.
Last night Leonard reminded me of this at 10:02 when I was still on the computer.
I quickly shut my laptop, stating "O.k., O.k. Mr. Lay-Down-The-Law!"
Translation: "I appreciate that you are wanting us to stick to our goals."

To which he replied "Go get your scriptures, Belladonna large-pupiled freak!"
Translation: "After gazing into your eyes right now I was reminded of how uncommonly large your pupils are, and I really like them! Now use those freakishly large pupils to get your scriptures!"

Good luck mid-December. You've got a lot to live up to.

Customer Service

2010-11-18T21:00:00.021-07:00

Dear Elderly Cashier at Joann's,

Thank you for your interest in my child's welfare. When you addressed my baby with your snarky remark of "maybe your mom should make you a hat!" you must have been quite concerned regarding her health and well being. I'm sure you felt that she was inadequately attired in her sweater, pants, socks, and the wrap comprised of numerous layers of jersey fabric which attached her to my torso. In response, I would like to bring your attention to two facts of which you may not have been previously aware:

1. Unlike the coal burning stoves of your day, modern electricity allows consistent heat distribution indoors ensuring a comfortable temperature for all.

2. Despite what you were taught by your then considered wise elders, pneumonia doesn't spontaneously occur in babies when they are dressed below the point of perspiration.

Sincerely,

Doing It My Way

I wrote this letter in my mind as I walked to the car with my sack of fabric. I was contemplating yet another lesson I've learned in the past three months: insinuating that I'm a bad mom is the ultimate insult. Why do women do this to each other? I opened the car door and, miscalculating Amelia's position in the wrap relative to the car...smack! The door hit my darling baby's sweet bald head. She immediately began to wail as I juggled consoling her, gently kissing her owie, and trying to get her out of the carrier. She hadn't been hit really hard, but firmly enough to simultaneously crush my heart while leaving a little red mark on her noggin.

For the first time that day, I wished she had been wearing a hat.

Tuesday Nap

2010-11-09T21:37:00.006-07:00

Today I put Amelia down for her afternoon nap. Only it wasn't the typical cross your fingers and hope she stays down for more than 15 minutes nap. She barely even twitched when I lay her in the center of our bed. The sound of my footsteps in the room resulted in no rustling or squaking. It was quickly apparent that this sleep suggested serious napping business, which meant I would be free to get things done uninterrupted and with both hands.

I could have loaded the dishwasher.
Or put some clothes in the wash.
I might have cleaned out the pantry.
Or made some bread.
I should have finished a patient chart from last week.
Likely I would have worked on one of my many projects involving fabric and an over-the-top idea.

But then I would have missed out on mid-dream smiles.

And eyelashes that seem to have erupted overnight.

So instead I stretched out next to my little girl. And slept like a baby.

Amelia's First Halloween

2010-11-04T07:43:00.006-06:00

I'm not big on lawn ornaments. Ranging from decorative flowers to crude 2D women with bloomers showing, I'm sometimes confused by what the homeowner hopes to convey. Perhaps if I owned an airstream trailer in a warm climate I might consider a pink flamingo or two, but I've never seen a lawn ornament that would quite fit in front of our current home.

But then I saw this little munchkin. Chubby cheeks, pointy hat, and curled beard. Dubbed "Gnomelia" she seems mischevious and magical.

Maybe our house could use a few garden gnomes after all!

Hook Ups!!!

2010-10-13T21:25:00.006-06:00

Most jobs come with some sort of perk.

I remember a girl who lived down the hall from Leonard in college. She worked at Krispy Kreme and was known for bringing leftover doughnuts home to share.
I've known people who obtained work at an airline simply for the perk of free plane rides.
I got free soft drinks when I worked at Steer Inn Drive-In in high school, and half off all meals when I waitressed at Lardo's, a greasy restaurant in McCall.

But none of that stacks up to the astronautness of zero gravity at 30,000 feet above the face of the earth. This perk was experienced by my little tiny baby sister Molly, a journalist for the Deseret News. As part of a story on Utah teachers experiencing zero gravity, she was able to participate as well.

That's her - the elated one on the far right:

photo courtesy of sltrib.com

Nice, Molly.

You can read her Deseret News story here.
Also, if you'd like to see how cute she looks in a side ponytail during her on-air interview with KSL, you can see it here.

And speaking of feats that are out of this world, check out who's starting to smile:

Cyber Brag Book

2010-10-01T13:51:00.011-06:00

Here's a little self-indulgence, or as I like to think of it, cashing in the benevolent capital I earned during childbirth.
Enjoy!

Photographs by Laura Farris Photography

Our New Addition

2010-09-15T21:15:00.014-06:00

It's a girl!

Amelia Irene George was born August 30, 2010 to a couple of ecstatic new parents.

Length: 19.5 inches

Weight: 7 pounds 6 ounces

Adorability: off the charts!

Leonard and I have been enjoying these past couple of weeks and are fascinated by our little girl. We frequently find ourselves amazed by her numerous attributes, proudly making statements like "she is just so advanced!"

Here are some of the things that make Millie so special:

She is very alert and aware. Following her birth she was awake and looking around for about 6 hours before sleeping.

She's roughly the size of a sock monkey.

She loves staring at her dad (but then, who doesn't?).

For a newborn, she's got pretty great control of her neck.

Though she spends the majority of her time employed in strenuous activities such as eating and sleeping, she understands the importance of kicking back and relaxing.

More Amelia cuteness to come!!!

3rd Trimester Update

2010-07-16T08:33:00.004-06:00

With my due date rapidly approaching and the threat of this blog becoming a "mommy blog" looming, I figured I'd better document myself and Nugget during the 3rd Trimester:

Nugget at 33 weeks

Big Belly at 34 weeks

Patient Room 11

2010-07-12T21:34:00.001-06:00

In the snippets of time between work and other tasks, I meditate on my upcoming new role as a mother. This is typically an anxiety-provoking activity as I get bogged down with the responsibility of it all. I recently discovered a welcome reprieve.

On the wall of Patient Room 11, a room to which I am frequently assigned, hangs a poster with instructions on how to massage your baby. Pictured is a smiling, well-fed baby who is obviously enjoying his infantile massage. Often when I am performing a lung exam on a patient I will stare at that poster and think about my future (while carefully listening to breath sounds of course!). I'll smile dreamily as I read the proper technique to massage a baby's cheeks and how to invoke "belly laughs" by gently caressing a baby's tummy. It all seems so simple, so fun! That's what it will be like all the time, right?

For a few moments motherhood no longer threatens sleepless nights, diaper changes, and the potential to permanently psychologically disfigure another human being. Instead it promises dimples, chubby limbs, and giggly baby massages.

My lung exams in Room 11 have become a lot more thorough.

Raised Garden Beds? Check!

2010-04-23T19:18:00.006-06:00

One of my gardening dreams has been fulfilled in the form of two 12x4 foot raised garden beds. We followed instructions from the tutorial at ThePioneerWoman website. I am in love with these beds. I often stand at our kitchen window and gaze at them, my imagination running wild.

The beds each took about 2 hours to construct. We used redwood and made them 12 inches tall (the perfect height to rest a pregnant belly). We plan on using our backyard flower beds for tomatoes, and will keep the raised beds for most of the other vegetables. I'm so pleased with these beds, I'm already planning for more next year (sorry Leonard).

Despite the advantage of having Farmer as a maiden name, I'm totally a novice when it comes to my garden. I was going to do tons of research to help me feel more confident, but I've decided instead to use some basic principles and good record keeping, as I know this will be a process. We'll see how it goes!

A Great Blessing From a Curse

2010-04-18T20:03:00.005-06:00

Worth It.

"Unto the woman he said, I will greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy conception: in sorrow thou shalt bring forth children. Genesis 3:16"

A week ago Leonard read aloud from my pregnancy book about the commonality of foot swelling late in the second trimester. I almost didn't let him finish, "Oh, that won't happen to me," I stated confidently, thinking of all of my poor pregnant patients and their edematous complaints. I had decided long ago that this pregnancy, and likewise the baby, would be the best ever. I had seen in clinic the difference that a good attitude can make in the outcome of disease, figuring that likewise the development of an unrealistic optimism would somehow supercede the inevitable physical changes that pregnancy causes.

I put the article from the usually spot-on pregnancy book out of my mind until yesterday when I felt a tingling in my toes. When the sensation could no longer be ignored I stood, looking down, and gasped. My reliably bony feet had been replaced with two pillowy soft bricks. The realization that I had no control over the changes occurring in my body hit me hard. Tears sprang to my eyes, and I began to cry. When I noted that my emotions were probably due to pregnancy hormones, also as the book had predicted, I cried even harder. I cried mostly for myself, but also for pregnant women in general, including Mother Eve as I understood that I, too, was feeling the brunt of Eve's transgression. "Just please don't send me a Cain," I prayed.

Leonard eventually found me in my emotional state, and cheered me up until we were both able to laugh at my chubby toes. Later on that day I watched Leonard push a wheelbarrow full of soil to our raised garden beds. Poor Leonard, I thought. "In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread Genesis 3:19."

Owl Treats

2010-03-20T22:16:00.006-06:00

In our ward I am a teacher to the 12 and 13 year-old girls. For our recent Young Women New Beginnings (wherein we introduce our theme for the upcoming year) I was asked to provide owl treats. The 2010 Young Men/Young Women theme is "Be strong and of a good courage (Joshua 1:19)" and our emphasis at New Beginnings was "Remember 'Whoo' You are." I had a great time deciding what to make, and I think everything turned out pretty good!

Owl Cupcakes
Vanilla buttercream frosting with chocolate cake:

Owl Cake Pops

These little guys were my favorite. I was inspired by the chocolate coated cake ball pops made famous by Bakerella.

I used white candy coated chocolate candies for the eyes, candy sunflower seeds for the beaks, and orange flower shaped sprinkles for the feet.

It was all innocent fun at first. But the more that I made, the more they glared at me with their big round eyes, beckoning me to construct more of their friends.

They continued to stare, and when I had finished and turned to leave the kitchen, I could still feel their eyes following me.

I made 30 owls in all, and the girls loved them, so mission accomplished!

February 2010 Daring Bakers Challenge

2010-03-01T07:35:00.004-07:00

The Daring Bakers Challenge for February was to make Tiramisu, with all ingredients made from scratch. This involved making the ladyfinger biscuits, mascarpone cheese (kind of like a sour cream cheese), zabaglione (a sort of flavorful custard), and vanilla pastry cream. I made my own version, Mormon-Friendly Tiramisu, by substituting the alcohol and coffee with homemade hot chocolate.

The entire process was quite time consuming, especially as some of the ingredients needed to set for at least 24 hours. I made the ladyfingers a week or so in advance, which meant a week of hearing "So, can I have some of these biscuit thingys yet?" from Leonard every time he'd open the fridge.

The Tiramisu was delicious. The filling is creamy and flavorful, and the hot chocolate soaked ladyfingers add a nice texture.

The Verdict: Yumtastic! I'll make this again, but might not make all the ingredients from scratch to save on time. This would be nice when served following a fancy-pants meal for the mature palate, like salmon with asparagus.

The February 2010 Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Aparna of My Diverse Kitchen and Deeba of Passionate About Baking. They chose Tiramisu as the challenge for the month. Their challenge recipe is based on recipes from The Washington Post, Cordon Bleu at Home and Baking Obsession.

A View of Nugget

2010-02-15T19:18:00.013-07:00

A few weeks ago I was worried - at 10 1/2 weeks my nausea was improving and I was starting to feel better. Instead of this being a happy occasion, I was concerned that something was wrong with the pregnancy. Leonard and I tried to hear heart tones in clinic, but it was just too early. I began to think the whole thing had somehow been a misunderstanding. Soon we'd have to tell our family the unfortunate truth - I had been mistaken, it wasn't for real, and I was a big fraud. I couldn't relax until I knew for sure everything was o.k.

Leonard and I were manning the evening clinic, and after everyone had left we went into the Ultrasound room to take a gander at the baby. It didn't take more than a few seconds, and there it was! We immediately dubbed it our little "nugget," as that was exactly what it resembled - a chicken McNugget, one of the L-shaped ones that are especially tasty. We marveled when we saw the baby's quick heartbeat. We laughed as we watched our nugget perform acrobatic somersaults in the Big Top of my womb. I snapped at Leonard when he yelled "Earthquake!" while shaking the Ultrasound probe on my abdomen to see if it would make the baby move. I was certainly reassured.

On the way home I told Leonard I felt guilty. Having access to the Ultrasound was a nice perk of our profession, but one that our patients did not so easily share. As justification, I told Leonard that this Ultrasound was Unofficial and didn't really count. As usual, he nodded and told me that made perfect sense.

Last week Leonard and I had our first "Official" Ultrasound. Nugget had now grown arm buds and was waving them all over the place, as if to say "I'm officially here!"

And though the Ultrasound room is just down the hall at work, we've continued to refrain from our own private nugget viewings.

Pregan

2010-02-06T21:00:00.003-07:00

Leonard and I are expecting a baby in mid-August. We are excited, happy, and frightened. For now we're just trying to figure out this whole pregnancy business.

I awoke Leonard in the early (for him) morning with the news. Within an hour of the positive pregnancy test, Leonard had nicknamed me "Pregan," a label which of course continues. That night we went grocery shopping and Leonard loaded the cart with name brand prenatal vitamins, pregnancy books, and anti-oxidant containing fruit juices.

Our biggest dilemma was how, and when, should we tell our families? Luckily we would be with both families during the holidays. For the Farmers I suggested a simple announcement on Christmas evening when everyone was together. When Leonard told me his plans for informing his own family, I refused immediately. "No way," I said, horrified. Leonard was persistent. "But you get to do everything!" Feeling bad for his desire to be as involved as possible, I relented, and thus the Bedazzled clear box containing our positive pregnancy test was given to his parents for Christmas:

Ron and Irene loved it. They converted it into a Christmas ornament and hung it in honor on their tree.

I am now 12 weeks along and feeling great, and I'm adding 'long-suffering' to my list of Leonard Virtues. He happily takes charge of making all of my appointments and works it out so he can be there. He doesn't complain when I request a late night run to the grocery store for iceberg lettuce and sharp cheddar. Nary a protest escapes his lips when I cancel our afternoon plans on a day off so I can go take a two hour nap. When the pregnancy hormones cause me to be less than kind, Leonard will go on as though nothing ever happened.

Leonard, you were wrong. I don't get to do everything - you have your fair share in this too.

Daring Bakers Challenge January 2010

2010-01-30T08:42:00.004-07:00

This month was a two-part challenge.

We first made graham crackers which were then used as part of a graham cracker crust for a rich Canadian dessert, Nanaimo Bars. The graham cracker dough was very similar to a gingerbread dough - very sticky, which is always a challenge for me! The sweet smell that infused my kitchen as they baked made up for my dough frustrations and they were very good. The Nanaimo bars are composed a graham cracker/coconut/almond bottom layer, a rich buttery custard middle layer, and topped by a chocolate ganache. Many of the Daring Bakers said they were very sweet, which usually for my sweet tooth means "just sweet enough," however they were in fact quite sweet and rich, so I was glad I cut them into small pieces.

The Verdict: I'll probably make the graham crackers again to eat as snacks, especially because of how impressed Leonard was with the process. "You made a cracker! A cracker! What can't you do?" I don't think I'll make the Nanaimo bars again. Though they were tasty, they weren't 'knock your socks off' tasty.

The January 2010 Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Lauren of Celiac Teen. Lauren chose Gluten-Free Graham Wafers and Nanaimo Bars as the challenge for the month. The sources she based her recipe on are 101 Cookbooks and www.nanaimo.ca.

Home again...

2010-01-01T19:52:00.004-07:00

Leonard and I have returned from a very fun family-filled Christmas vacation in McCall. We relaxed, ate delicious food, went sledding, and enjoyed our three adorable nephews.

Speaking of nephews, here's a pillowcase-caped Eli modeling the very bushy beard I made them for Christmas:

Happy New Year!

Note: you may have noticed I haven't been posting the Daring Baker's Challenges the last two months. I decided to give myself a break for the holidays, but plan on returning for the January challenge.

A Very Feminine Christmas

2009-12-06T18:15:00.012-07:00

When it comes to home decorating, Leonard gives me full reign. Perhaps because he understands the joy I feel when it comes to choosing furniture and home accessories, he allows me complete executive decision-making power in this area. I couldn't be happier with the arrangement and express my gratitude frequently. Not wanting to take unfair advantage of the situation, I try to take Leonard into account when making home decorating decisions. Before purchasing our light grey sofa, I imagined a hoodied Leonard lounging comfortably on its textured fabric. Likewise, when choosing our plaid green entryway rug, I happily felt it would compliment a sock-footed Leonard ruling his roost.

Any considerations of Leonard were abandoned, however, when it came to choosing this year's Christmas tree.

The soft pink branches beckoned.

The bright pink lights begged to brighten up my family room.

Ultimately I fell helplessly into the bubblegum pink tree's sugary sweet trap. The pull was so strong, I never put Leonard into the equation. In the end, I think he looks adorable in front of the tree, and he really didn't mind too much.

The tree is (obviously) fake. The manufacturer promises durable commercial-grade PVC plastic branches that are destined to last years. Which means that for Leonard, Christmas will symbolize not only faith, family, and celebration, but also, perhaps, an abuse of power.

Daring Bakers Challenge October 2009

2009-11-08T20:03:00.008-07:00

Better late than never!

The 2009 October Daring Bakers' challenge was brought to us by Ami S. She chose macarons from Claudia Fleming’s The Last Course: The Desserts of Gramercy Tavern as the challenge recipe.

French macarons, a dessert I had never before tried, comprised October's Daring Bakers Challenge. I was very excited for this challenge as I had seen the small, colorful macarons on various food blogs. They have a reputation of being very finicky, requiring meringue at just the right firmness, whipping in the almond flour with a spatula but not overwhipping, and baking at the right temperature. In the end (after a couple of tries), they turned out great! I chose to make the basic recipe and fill with buttercream.

Many of the Daring Bakers were having difficulty with the original recipe, so I ended up using this one.

Leonard Husbandry

2009-10-12T10:14:00.017-06:00

Man is frequently messing with nature for his own benefit. Left to their own devices, animals will perform tasks to suit themselves under specific conditions. For example, in nature the honeybee will arrange its hexagonal honeycomb into clusters of whatever shape dictated by instinct or maybe even artistry. However, when placed into the modern hive, the honeycomb will be arranged in an orderly fashion onto the provided foundation slats, making it easy for the beekeeper to slip out those slats and take the honey as needed.

Leonardism: Having worked for years as a tool man at Sears to help put himself through school, my Leonard is handy. He doesn't shun from the necessary "man-chores" around the house, and actually seems to enjoy them. With level and drill in hand, he keeps our home in tip-top shape. Leonard prefers to work his magic during his downtime, such as a late Saturday morning after adequate sleeping in or on a lazy day off. Under those conditions, Leonard will happily hum as he busily tends to our home's needs. When a job is finished, we'll both admire his handiwork as I sing his praises and he smiles and puffs out his chest. It's a nice arrangement. Every now and then, however, I feel the need to ask for his handy skills at a not so convenient time.

Documentation is vital to every good experiment

Last week I decided I'd had it with our utility closet. Low on the priority list after we moved in, we'd been using it as a receptacle for anything related to cleaning, with mops, broom, and ironing board leaning against the walls. Disorganized and not living up to its functionality potential, I couldn't stand it anymore. I had bought some organizational accessories awhile back, and decided that I couldn't wait another day before they were hung. It was an evening after work, and I knew this wouldn't sit well with Leonard. My mind raced back to my Undergrad days in Biology. I had the perfect specimen for the job at hand, but the wrong conditions. If I could only manipulate those conditions to become more favorable, perhaps the test subject would perform. It was a good hypothesis. I mentally listed the needed conditions:

Condition 1: baseline overall feeling of contentment
Condition 2: accessibility of needed supplies
Condition 3: sense of importance and need
Condition 4: post-task praising, to ensure future success

Dinner was made. I waited for Leonard's compliment: "Thanks, Honey that was great!" he said smiling. Condition 1 - accomplished. Quickly, before he was able to maneuver to the couch for well-deserved resting, I diverted him to the laundry room, where his tools awaited, organized and ready. Condition 2 - check. I could sense his unwillingness, so I smoothly transitioned to reminding him how grateful I was that he was so handy and our home wouldn't function so well were it not for his skills. Condition 3: condition met, with a smattering of guilt. Leonard sighed, picked up his tools, and went to work. When he was finished we had a perfectly organized utility closet. Hands on hips, I shook my head in wonder saying things like "Wow, that's amazing," "Handy, handy man!" and "look at you go!" Leonard's reluctant exterior faded, and he bashfully smiled. Condition 4 - cemented.

The Completed Closet

Look out, Leonard. Next time I might decide to rearrange the living room furniture at 2 a.m.

Farm Girl, City Girl

2009-10-01T10:25:00.004-06:00

The view from my parent's front porch

I grew up out in the country. My family moved from our red brick house on a quiet street to an 80 acre span of hillside 5 miles outside of our small rural town when I was 11 years old. Growing up on a hill surrounded by fields was a wonderful experience. I'd hop off the bus and walk home, then go exploring the countryside with Sherman and Betsy, the world's two best dogs. In the fall if my mom needed an onion for a recipe, it was only a matter of grabbing one from a nearby field. In the summertime I'd awaken to the sound of crop duster planes flying close to our house. On my then-tween little sister's birthday, we sang karaoke late into the night without any worry of neighbors being disturbed. Although the situation turned my mom into a 24 hour taxi service into town, the advantages of the peaceful country life had me convinced that was what I wanted in the future.

Me and my roommate Anica on the balcony of our apartment in Spain, 2001

This conviction was challenged when I spent six months abroad in Spain. Although the city I was living in wasn't a metropolis, it was large and compact. I learned that what the city lacked in space it made up for in accessibility and culture. Within a half of a block of my apartment I had access to a bread store, coffee shop, candy store, and park. I spent hours walking the streets of the city, stopping occasionally to sit with the old men at the train station or to drink a glass of peach juice at a cafe while people-watching. Every open space was shared, and I never felt more social.

When Leonard and I became serious, we'd talk a lot about our future. What would life be like after school? Who would be in charge of the dishes? What would work be like? But most of our conversations settled around the question, Where would we live? I tried to convince Leonard to live in a city, at least for a few years. I even tried talking him into applying to P.A. schools in New York City but it just wasn't his thing. So I painted a picture of life in the country, with chickens and an overabundant garden. He'd be fine with that, just unsure if it would work out right away. "What about the suburbs?" he'd say. "We'd be close to things, but still have a nice yard, and our kids could have friends nearby." I'd suddenly get a case of the 'dry heaving because the thought of that disgusts me' attacks. Leonard would smile, and we'd move on to musing over whether our firstborn would have dimples or facial hair. For me, future home location was either city or country, black or white. I wasn't open to anything in between.

A chilly fall morning in the 'burbs

We now live in the suburbs. In the most suburby of subdivisions in the first and largest suburb of a not so large city. We live on a street where mailbox stands are shared between neighbors, and if the weeds in your lawn get out of control you get a friendly notice in the mail. But we also live 5 minutes from work and just a short trip to the nearest Costco. Walks around the neighborhood result in a minimum of three conversations with people who are also out and about. Neighbors are more than happy to lend their tall ladder or give a cup of sugar when needed. Afternoons are filled with people riding bikes and the sound of kids playing basketball. I still occasionally dream of skyscrapers and chickens, but I've come to learn that maybe I am a Suburb girl after all.

Daring Bakers Challenge September 2009

2009-09-27T09:44:00.008-06:00

The September 2009 Daring Bakers' challenge was hosted by Steph of A Whisk and a Spoon. She chose the French treat, Vols-au-Vent based on the Puff Pastry recipe by Michel Richard from the cookbook Baking With Julia by Dorie Greenspan.

I've been stalking the Daring Bakers for over a year now, and finally got the courage to join. Every month includes a challenge with specific restrictions. The terms of the challenge this month were to create the cup-shaped Vols-au-Vent pastries, but I had full reign over how to fill them.

I chose two different types of fillings: sweet and savory.

My sweet filling consists of a hardened layer of dark chocolate with a central dolop of vanilla mousse. I was inspired by a pastry I enjoyed while living in Spain.

This is my savory pastry - the cup is filled with a layer of thin small potatoes topped with a layer of thinly sliced Spanish Sweet onions and drizzled with a balsamic syrup. I was inspired by the bag of humongous onions I have in my pantry that came straight from my Dad's shed. Thanks Dad!

I knew they were a success when Leonard asked, "Do they have a challenge every week?" I've never made puff pastry before and the whole experience was a lot of fun. The pastry is very versatile and I look forward to being more creative with it in the future.

For more info on Daring Bakers, go here.

Wigging Out

2009-09-10T21:11:00.005-06:00

Today my patient told me my hair looks like a wig.

I took note of her bright pink scrunchie and breakfast-encrusted collar and thanked her for the compliment.

Labor Day 2009

2009-09-08T12:35:00.006-06:00

This Labor Day Weekend I:

Sutured a scalp laceration
(sorry, picture not available)

Made a birthday cake:

Hung out with family and friends visiting from out of town:

Leonardism:

I Can.

2009-09-02T18:32:00.010-06:00

I've decided that canning is going to be a part of my life. I courted it last year with grape juice, applesauce, and apple pie filling. The year apart was tough, and when we finally met up again this summer I realized that I'm not whole without it.

Last week Leonard and I canned peaches. We began at the orchards where we bought 40 lbs of thin-skinned blemish-free peaches from a surprisingly spry old farmer. We chatted as we blanched, peeled, stoned, and heated the fruit. We scrambled while packing the hot fruit into the hot jars. We furrowed our brows and consulted one another as we examined each bottle for air bubbles. Our eyes met with proud smiles when the lids would plink indicating a seal. Once our 20 quarts were processed they stayed on our table for two days, just so I could look at them.

I think one thing I like about canning is that the attention to every step in the process contributes to the overall quality of the product. I also love the thought of preserving delicious summer and fall flavors for later in the year. I'm definitely a beginner, and I've got a lot to learn.
These are the tomatoes we recently canned. We bought them from our 87 year old neighbor. Behind his house is a huge plot with hundreds of squash and tomato plants. He cares for his wife with Alzheimer's and grows delicious tomatoes he sells for 30 cents/lb. His wife can no longer can, so he does it all himself. Two teaspoons of sugar and one teaspoon of salt for every quart is his preferred recipe. He told us he only buys one tomato per year, when he has a BLT craving in the middle of the winter.
Canning takes effort and patience. I talked to my sisters on the phone while peeling these tomatoes. I also listened to music and spent some time thinking about important things. Like how tomato red would make a great accent color in my kitchen.

I've never really thought of how I would be described when I pass from this world, but I'd like "avid canner" to be in there somewhere.

Garden Dreams

2009-06-30T09:19:00.020-06:00

Just over one year ago I was in central Oregon on my General Surgery rotation. When I wasn't doing exciting things like suturing skin back together, clamping arteries, controlling the camera during laparoscopy, inspecting newly resected bowel for tumors, inserting catheters, and being agressively quizzed about the indications for endoscopy, I was standing and waiting. Surgeries can last for hours at a time (the longest was seven!), and sitting is considered wimpy.

During these long stretches of time I became a master daydreamer. While maintaining steady pressure while retracting back layers of tissue, I was designing the perfect birthday cake. As I forced my eyes to appear interested and earnest as I observed the surgeon perform the twentieth gallbladder removal I'd seen, I created throw pillows for my home. While holding up the pannus of a morbidly obese woman during a hernia repair, Leonard and I were on a beach enjoying the perfect vacation.

The majority of my daydreaming time, however, was spent in my future garden. It was huge, with rows upon rows of peas, corn, carrots, and other produce that I had raised from single seeds. In the late morning, wearing my fashionable gardening apron that I had designed during an appendectomy, I would weed, fertilize, and tend my garden. While Leonard looked on sipping homemade lemonade whose recipe I had pondered during a colonoscopy, I was harvesting my crops. While repetitively contracting and relaxing my leg muscles to prevent fatigue from prolonged immobility during a long operation, I was cooking my harvest and pouring the product into canning jars outfitted with labels that bore the name "Farmer George Canned Goods," a title I had come up with during a fine needle biopsy. These moments in my imaginary garden were a respite from the intense, sleep deprived life that I had voluntarily signed up for. The garden represented all things that my life was not: slow, calm, relaxed, balanced. Scolding myself for the infliction I had put myself through, I vowed that my gardening dreams would be a reality the following spring.

Here we are now, over one year later. Leonard and I moved into our home too late in the season for a sizeable garden, and had to settle for a few plants in our backyard flower beds. Next year we plan on having raised beds, and my gardening dreams should come true. Still, some part of me feels I have betrayed my one year younger self. That is, until the other day after work, when Leonard and I were in the backyard. We noticed that a small, green tomato had erupted from one of our tomato plants. Excitedly, we inspected this small fruit and made plans for late summer meals. I realized then that my dream of a slower, more relaxed life had come to pass. There is a season for everything, and now is a time of transition. Over the next year I've got to plan and execute my design for raised beds, and of course sew the perfect fashionable gardening apron. I think surgery Megan with her dark under eye circles would approve.

Carrots and Alcohol

2009-05-30T08:59:00.006-06:00

I once read a story about the moment in time when a young mother realized she was truly a mom. She was in the car, husband driving, on the way to a wedding. She was feeding her infant baby food which as expected became a carroty mess all over the baby's cheeks and nose. When they arrived to the wedding she realized that she had forgotten to bring wipes or towels. In a rush and not wanting her child to be a mess at a nice event, she licked the baby's cheeks and nose clean.

Gross.

That story made me laugh and wonder if I would ever have that type of relationship with someone needing my help.

Recently in clinic I saw a patient I've been seeing frequently since starting my new job. He has a history of alcohol abuse and I was concerned that he had started drinking again, though he denied this. While doing his abdominal exam, I pressed on his liver. "Take a deep breath in," I instructed. He did so, and then I further instructed "Good, now breathe slowly out of your mouth." At this point I leaned in as closely as possible to his face while still being inconspicuous. As he breathed out I took a slow, deep breath in through my nose. There it was, the nasty smell of stale alcohol on his breath and I had just inhaled it all. My suspicions were confirmed. The freaky thing is that instead of being disgusted I was happy that I had found this clue.

I don't have children yet like this young mother. But I think I get it.

Memorial Day Weekend 2009

2009-05-26T20:28:00.009-06:00

This Memorial Day weekend Leonard's parents came to visit:

We had a wonderful time with them, as usual. Please come back soon, Ron and Irene! We loved having you here!

We also hosted our first dinner party at our house, complete with family from both sides:

It was the first dinner party, but it won't be the last - mark my words!

Staged photo with excellent acting, or two sisters in-law congenially having a good time or both? You decide:

We also celebrated my Dad's birthday along with the birthday of this guy, my brother Joey. I love you so much it hurts, Joey!:

The End.

"Maybe House" No More

2009-05-19T20:34:00.009-06:00

Leonard and I have bought a house.

When we finally found it among what seemed like the millions that we toured, we dubbed it "Favorite House" for obvious reasons. When our offer was accepted, we started simply calling it "The House" and then when the typical bumps in the road until closing began to appear it was known as "Maybe House." One week before closing it's status upgraded to "Likely House" and today it is now "Our House."
There is one "Twin House" in our neighborhood.

As you can see, Leonard and I are into nicknames for things.

Like when I get into the passenger side of the car and he places a mountain of books, papers, movies to be returned, etc. onto my lap and says "Here you go, Shelf."

Or when we drive to my parent's house in Nyssa and know that we will lose cell phone coverage once we pass "Horse Hill," where sad-looking horses are balancing precariously on the steep incline of a hillside. "Honey, you might want to finish that call, we're almost at Horse Hill."

Here is our favorite tree in front of our house. It's shape looks exaggerated like something out of a Dr. Seuss book, so it is now known as "Dr. Seuss Tree." I don't yet know it's real genus and species, but even when I find that out, it's name won't change.

The day we got the keys, Leonard surprised me by wrapping a big red bow around the front door. We ran into the house and walked around forever. I began to wonder how long it would take for this house to feel like home. When Leonard started making loud chicken noises to see how they would echo, I knew it was a done deal.

Eventually we laid in the living room with our feet on the fireplace. Immediately both of us noticed it - the lights above the fireplace looked like eyes and the mantle a mouth, leading to a face with a serious expression. Right then and there those particular lights became christened "The Eyes." Last nigh Leonard reminded me, "Sweetheart, don't forget to turn off The Eyes before bed."

I can't wait for the years we are going to spend in this house, along with all the nicknames yet to be formed. I'll continue to post photos as we get settled, but for now I need to go to Bedroom #1 and unpack some boxes.

D-Backs and Dragons

2009-04-11T11:12:00.010-06:00

Leonard and I are relaxing with the George's here in Arizona.
Perks of being a member of this family include delicious Irene-cooked meals, Ronnieisms, and laying out by the pool for hours at a time.

Last night I enjoyed my first major league baseball game.

Ron of course was dressed for the occasion:

Here's the crew:

Leonardism:
On the way home from the game, Leonard's sister Mandy was telling us about her new Bishop. "He told me I was a spit-fire. He doesn't even really know me yet, how can he know that about me? I mean, I AM a spit-fire, but you know what I mean." Leonard broke the ensuing silence as each in the car tried to figure out how to respond. "Maybe he thought you looked like a dragon?!."

On Making Do

2009-03-29T21:15:00.005-06:00

During the times of World War II, my grandma Dorothy would paint her legs black with shoe polish every Sunday for church to mimic the look of hose. She'd even draw a line up the backs of her legs for the seam. The generation that lived through that time made do with what they had, and even though my own generation is spoiled in comparison, I am always pleasantly surprised at the creative things people will do to get by with what they've got. Once my brother Jimmy and his family visited us in Portland, and both of his adorable sons were impressively in a good mood after the 3 hour drive from Seattle. As I helped unload the car I noted a portable DVD player, duct taped backwards to the front seat console to allow the boys to watch cartoons.

As a teenager, I once rode with Jimmy in the "farm pickup" to irrigate the fields. As I shut the passenger side door it swung back open immediately. Jimmy reached over and hooked a bungie cord from his door to mine to keep them closed. It worked well for the job at hand.

Financial strain is an obvious reason for making do. I see this frequently when doing physical exams on my patients in clinic. I've seen newborns wearing clothes for a 6 month old, frayed bras held together with safety pins, suspenders holding up pants that are 4 sizes too big.

Laziness is another common culprit. I've been wearing my last pair of 2 week disposable contacts for the past 3 months, simply because the thought of finding a new optometrist, scheduling an appointment at a convenient time, etc. etc. takes too much energy.

Recently Leonard's cell phone malfunctioned for a few days. He was able to hear me but I couldn't hear him. Luckily, I could hear the beeping sound made when he would push a button on the keypad.

Our conversations went something like this:

Me: Hi sweetheart, are you on your way to pick me up? Press a button once for yes and twice for no.

Him: Beep.

Me: Oh, that's nice. I had a pretty good day today, I'm almost done with my charts. I was thinking about Cuban Mojito chicken for dinner, what do you think? Press a button once if you think this sounds good.

Him: Beep.

Me: Great! Are you very far away? Press a button once if you are more than 5 minutes away, twice if you're closer than that.

Him: Beep, Beep.

Me: Oh, I didn't realize that! Are you in the parking lot right now waiting for me? Press a button once for yes.

Him: Beep.

Me: Oh, o.k. I love you. Press a button if you love me too.

Him: Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

Me (laughing): Aw, shucks. I'll be right out. Press a button once for goodbye.

Him: Beep.

Me: Goodbye.

I work at one of those clinics

2009-03-15T20:09:00.004-06:00

The kind of clinic where:

I have to sternly tell a 21 year old patient with a mohawk: "Hey, don't punch our walls!" as his temper flares as I'm trying to remove a foreign body from his eye.

I go to the local homeless shelter after work to hand deliver appointment information to my patient with recently diagnosed lung cancer, because there is no other way to get a hold of him.

I walk into a room and think "hmmm...KFC and wet dog" when greeting my new patient. The latter is confirmed as I notice copious dog hair on the back of her shirt.

The building is old and rickety, I don't stretch my legs too far under my desk for fear of spider webs.

And I love it.

Yesterday Two Birthdays Were Celebrated

2009-03-11T21:36:00.014-06:00

Birthday #1 - The Relief Society of the LDS Church

Though technically founded on March 17, yesterday our Relief Society met for a 167th birthday bash. I've always been so impressed with the way a group of women from the Relief Society can get things done efficiently, such as pulling off a post-funeral luncheon with only a short day's notice or sewing a hundred quilts for families in a war ravaged nation in a month's time.

I had signed up to decorate a birthday table, mostly to force myself to get to know other ladies. The theme could be whatever I wanted. I considered cool themes like 1970s disco party or Space Invaders. When my mom informed me that she was making spring cupcakes for her ward's birthday bash, I decided to tag along and turn my table into a Spring Themed Birthday.

The cupcakes were fun to make. I especially liked the chocolate butterflies.

Birthday #2 - Chuck Norris

I had no idea it was Chuck's birthday yesterday until Leonard informed me in a serious tone, almost as though he expected me to feel guilty that I hadn't yet called him and it was getting late. I've never been into Chuck Norris movies, but Leonard thinks they're cool and celebrated by telling me "Chuck Norris is Tough" jokes.

Here are a few of my favorites:
-There is no such thing as evolution, just a list of species that Chuck Norris has allowed to survive.
-They say the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. Unless Chuck Norris is on the other side, in which case the grass is soaked with blood and tears.
-Chuck Norris counted to infinity....twice.
-Little kids wear Superman pajamas. Superman wears Chuck Norris pajamas.
-Chuck Norris once kicked a horse in the chin. It's descendants were known as giraffes.

Yeah, Chuck Norris is pretty tough and it makes you wonder if there's ever an opponent that could beat him. I wonder, though, how he'd fare against a few seasoned Relief Society sisters.

My Best Investment

2009-02-25T19:51:00.005-07:00

"You're more picky about a house than you were about your mate."

Leonard spoke these words tonight, trying to get me to smile after another day of frustrations with house hunting. His other tactics included washing the dishes, dancing in the kitchen, and singing about his probiotic yogurt in falsetto: "Here comes acidophilus, into my a-stomagus!"

It worked, of course.

His statement got me thinking.

When we drive up to a home I've pretty much already made up my mind. I'll smile pleasantly while thinking things like "What's that weird chunk of brick doing stuck on the side there?" or "Where's the house, all I see is garage." Don't even get me started on columns. I'll drop all considerations of a house based on the shape of the windows or the angle of the kitchen counter. If I don't feel like I can live with the color of the cabinets, there's really no need to continue the tour.

It's a curse, but one I will protect at all cost.

If only I could find a house the way I found Leonard. His curb appeal was fantastic. He got me interested with his baby face good looks and chivalrous manners. He was a little shy during our first interactions, which kept me intrigued to see what was inside. Every door I finally opened was a pleasant surprise. "Wow, I had no idea utmost respect for his mother was even in there!" "No way! Hand holding in public? I've always wanted that!" And oh, the upgrades! Humor beyond what I'd ever interacted with. Superb sincerity. Sweeping good naturedness. Sustainable goofiness.

I didn't need to be picky about Leonard because I was blown away by all that he had to offer. I'm just lucky the deal worked out.

By Royal Decree...

2009-01-27T21:31:00.002-07:00

I married into royalty.

My father in-law has been lovingly and respectfully referred to as "King Ron" for years. Just as truth turns to legend which in turn becomes myth, it is unclear how exactly this nickname came about. Whatever the origin, it fits perfectly. Regally cloaked in his Big Dog t-shirt with his trusty wooden back scratcher as scepter, he pronounces his wise and merciful judgments on all aspects of life at the George household. His lessons, opinions, and commentary have stuck with me.

"I'll never forgive what he did to that sweet little Kidman girl," he'll pronounce whenever Tom Cruise is mentioned.
"It can't be worse than 8 years of Bozo" whenever current politics are discussed.
"Ron likes it cold. Cold. Cold. Cold." he'll sing and whistle merrily if anyone mentions the ambient temperature while piling on another blanket.
(Similarly, he'll croon "Ron likes toast. Toast. Toast. Toast." while making breakfast).
"Come on in! Take off your skin! And rattle around in your bones!!" This welcoming call will greet a a high school friend of Leonard's when they come by to visit.

During our last visit I had the great opportunity of spending afternoon upon afternoon watching various daytime Judge shows with Ron. Although the defendants and plaintiffs were ridiculous and therefore very amusing, it was Ron's commentary and excitement about what was taking place that kept me entertained. Sitting on the couch, watching King Ron in his throne-recliner become worked up over the legal disputes that somehow continually involved cuts of meat, I was filled with overwhelming admiration and respect for this noble man. I felt fortunate and blessed, passing hours of time at his side.

And just as a royal subject feels the need to express admiration through words such as "sire" and actions like tipping a feathered hat while bowing, I too felt the need to praise my King Ron. Attempt after attempt however, fell flat, and I only had myself to blame. Teasing Ron has become a favorite past time of myself and Leonard. I won't go into the specifics of our teasing here, but suffice it to say that in addition to being benevolent and gracious, Ron is also patient. "Ronnie, I had so much fun today watching Judge Joe Brown with you," I'd attempt. Ron would raise his eyebrows and wait for the punchline. Frustrated, I'd try again later. "Ron, this really has been a fun trip, spending so much time together... and stuff." Ron, frowning, would search my face, wondering what I was up to.

Words wouldn't work, and my years of witty jokes at Ron's expense were the cause. But I just couldn't let it go, I needed to express my feelings. So I did the next best thing I could think of. Recipes were gathered, decorating tips were polished, and pastry bags unfurled. Hours were spent in the kitchen, every second of my labor a testament to Ron's rightful place at the head of the George line.

And when King Ron placed my sugary sweet crown atop his stately head, I knew my appreciation was well received.

All hail Ron, King of the Georges.

Ta Da!

2008-12-17T19:00:00.003-07:00

Sometimes you meet a person and you know that your life is forever changed.

Such was the case one year ago when Leonard and I sat next to a gentleman during a flight from Salt Lake City to Portland. Tall, gangly, and in his early 40s, he was one of the friendliest people I had ever met. While discussing the things typically said when new acquaintances are acquired, he responded to my question of "What do you do for a living?" with a long pause. "I work for Boy Scouts of America, a good job. But in my spare time I work as a magician." His eyes twinkled when he spoke that word. He told us of his dream to one day quit his job and work as a magician full-time.

Leonard and I exchanged excited glances. This would not be a boring flight.

I was about to ask another question, when suddenly he flicked his wrist, and a business card came tumbling out of his sleeve. He mumbled an apology, picked it up, and handed it to me. I realized he had intended to produce it out of thin air.

For the rest of the flight he entertained us with interesting discussion about getting into the magic industry, as well as a few magic tricks performed with child-like enthusiasm. My favorite was when he turned a $1 bill into a $5 bill, exclaiming with a sly grin "be sure not to tell the IRS!"

When we finally said our goodbyes, Leonard and I were both sad to see him go. He walked away with a little hop in his step, a man passionate about his use of spare time. Leonard and I thought that was it for our encounter with the magician. However, although magicians are known for making things disappear, this one had a knack for reappearing in our lives.

Last Saturday Leonard and I awoke to my cell phone alarm at 4:30 a.m. and prepared ourselves for our 7:00 a.m. flight from Boise to Salt Lake City. It was going to be a quick weekend trip to be with the George's, as work constraints made it impossible to spend Christmas there this year. While waiting in line to board our flight, Leonard pulled on my arm excitedly. "It's him, it's him!!!" he exclaimed. I looked and saw our magician. He was dressed in a three piece suit, the hem of his pants barely below his skinny ankles, a bright vest covered in overlapping orange and red bunnies under his jacket. He sat with perfect posture, a content grin on his face. He was flanked on either side by teenage boys dressed in dark sweatshirts with uncombed hair and sour expressions, both engrossed in their respective handheld video game devices.

When I addressed him by his stage name, his already large smile increased in breadth, and he glanced quickly to either side to see if his sons had heard. They had, but they barely acknowledged our conversation. He was off to California to perform a magic show for his father's birthday. I was so happy that he was still doing magic, and impressed by his show attire. I excused myself when our boarding number was called.

Leonard and I found our way to our seats and got settled. I nuzzled against his arm while he opened the SkyMiles magazine. We looked at each other with soft, deep expressions for a brief second, the kind of look you give when you know that all is right in the world.

It was going to be a magical weekend.

Four Weeks of Leonard PA-C

2008-11-24T21:08:00.007-07:00

It's time I wrote about how Leonard is doing at the clinic.

We work just down the hall from each other. It's nice because I can pull him into a room to consult about an abscess, and he can call my extension and double check the facts of when a blood test needs to be drawn after starting a new medication.

It's nice having someone around who I'm not ashamed to look stupid in front of. Leonard is as important a resource as my palm pilot or my stack of medical books.

Our first two weeks were crazy and frantic, but after a month we're getting more into the swing of things. Here are some highlights of Leonard's first month:

Leonard's stats:

# of patients seen per day: up to 16! Our patient load recently increased.

% of patients that only speak Spanish: 65-70%

Clinics Leonard works at: Nampa Clinic (with me) 3-4 days/week, Caldwell clinic 1-2 days/week

# of patients seen with real insurance (not including Medicaid or Medicare): ~7 total

Funniest presenting symptoms:

-abdominal pain starting in the belly button and spreading outward but only when the patient eats eggs x 3 years

-Bell's palsy (a transient paralysis of one side of the face) in a 17 year old female, which the mom was convinced was because she always held her cell phone on the affected side of her face.

Coolest procedure so far: Toenail removal (Leonard is really good at these)

Most frustrating experience: Trying to convince a gentleman that he needs to go on insulin for his very uncontrolled diabetes. Leonard has seen the man about three times now, and has spent a long time trying to educate the him about his disease and the possible complications, but the man won't budge. Leonard came up with a compromise: The patient is doing a two week trial of aloe vera juice which he is convinced will help. If it doesn't he agrees he'll start the insulin. Leonard can't help but wonder if the next time he'll be seen will be in the hospital after he's admitted for complications from his diabetes.

Proudest moment: Diagnosing a pyogenic granuloma (a benign but weird-looking growth, see below) on a patient's leg just from looking at it. The pathology report just came back, and sure enough, Leonard was right. Thank goodness for dermatology rotations during PA school.

Toughest transition - introducing himself multiple times as "Hi I'm Kyle a PA student...um, used to be a PA student, now I'm a PA, um...what brings you in today?"

Leonard has realized that some patients are not very self aware:
He had a pt come in and while going over her current medications she stated:
"Yes, I'm taking some natural supplements. The three "G's":
Ginseng, Green Tea, and, well there's a third one that they use for memory but I can't remember what it's called." (Leonard and I assume she meant Ginko Biloba). She had no idea how ironic that sounded.

Leonard the Bully

2008-11-15T12:50:00.009-07:00

One of the first things I learned about Leonard when we were dating is that he was a relentless teaser to his siblings. He would relate the stories with strong regret - picking on a pint-sized Louis until he cried, a young Adam calling his mom on vacation because Leonard just wouldn't leave him alone.

"I knew I should stop bugging them...but I couldn't," he once confessed.

I learned very quickly that this wasn't just an older sibling phase.

Leonardism:
It's a lazy Saturday morning - Leonard is eating cereal, my head in his lap. I slowly stretch my arms above my head. Sensing my vulnerability, Leonard swiftly sets his cereal down, and grabs both of my wrists with one hand. With the other he taps his finger on my forehead in quick, successive beats.
"Name 10 fruits," he says.
"I can't Ky, don't!" I protest.
"Name 10 fruits!!!"
"O.k., o.k., um, Strawberry, Plum, Banana, ow!, um, Peach, Apple, Pear..." I trail off, my concentration completely altered by the distracting tapping.
"Four more!!" He says encouragingly.
"Um, um, Raspberry, um, Cantaloupe, Mango, Papaya!"

The tapping stops immediately, and relief washes over me.
"Good job!" he says, and I realize he still has my wrists.
"Now name 10 cereals!"
The tapping quickly picks up again.
"No, no, I can't!"
"Just do it!!!!"
"O.k., O.k."
The subject matter gets more and more difficult. When he wants me to name 10 shampoos I completely refuse.
"O.k., then, name 10 liver diseases and I'll let you go."
No problem, I think.
I fail to realize how difficult it is to access the medical part of my brain with the tapping.
"I can't! I can't concentrate!"
"You can do it Megs, I know you can!"
"O.k., o.k., um, Hepatits A, Hepatitis B, Hepatitis C," (I completely forget about the uncommon Hepatitis D and E), "um, ow!, liver cirrhosis, liver cancer, um,"
Dang it, knowledge! Where are you?
Leonard cuts in, "Intrahepatic cholestasis of pregnancy."
Show off, I think. He has the luxury of uninterrupted concentration.
"Budd Chiari" I respond defensively. "Non-Alcoholic Fatty Liver Disease, um, Hemochromatosis, um, um.." Just one more "Gilbert's Disease!" I shout triumphantly.

The tapping stops, but Leonard doesn't let go of my wrists.
"Now, name 10 Himalayan Prime Ministers" he grins.
I scowl at him and he lets me go. I sit up, rubbing my forehead.

At least I didn't get a noogie or a wedgie this time.

Doris Day Monday

2008-11-10T19:52:00.011-07:00

Sometimes our days are meant to be themed.

I wasn't thinking about this concept this morning when I walked into the Boise Antique Mall. I had the day off. My mom met me there and together we walked through row upon row of antique and vintage items. The amount of stuff was overwhelming - old kitchen tools, a black mourning dress from the 1920s, oddly shaped glass figurines, vintage costume jewelry, worn Christmas ornaments, etc. I loved perusing and marveling at a time when women were glamorous and homemaking was an art form that women around the world worked on perfecting daily.

Around noon I received a phone call from Leonard. He'd had a rough morning - he was working in a satellite clinic with limited resources and a few tough cases this morning had put him behind. Though he's rarely not in a good mood, I could tell he was still frustrated when I received this text message at 12:42 pm:

I am at the post office and apparently they thought it was a good idea to hire the slowest human being alive.

And then at 12:46 pm:
Seriously this man looks and moves exactly like a sloth. It's probably the government's way of saving on wages. Minimum wage only applies to humans, not sloths.

I texted Leonard back, telling him it would get better and promised him a delicious dinner when he got home. Mom and I went out to lunch and then to a wallpaper store. Afterward I hurried home and put away my new vintage items:Some magazines from the 40s and 50s - for future sewing inspiration

A pair of big clip-on earrings

This head band/hair accessory thingy

I'll figure out an occasion to wear it.

My favorite find - a wall hanging for the guest bathroom

The clock was ticking. I put on my apron, hummed a cheerful tune, and prepared dinner as efficiently as I could. The menu was going to be a hit: Butternut Squash Soup, Cornbread, and Fruit Salad. I just wanted Leonard to be able to come home, enjoy a hearty meal, forget about his day, and relax. All was going well until:

The bottom of the blender wasn't screwed on correctly as I was smoothing out the second half of the soup, so the entire contents gushed out making a huge mess. The humming stopped. Large beads of sweat appeared on my delicate forehead. One shirt change, three washcloths and numerous paper towels later the mess was cleaned up. Luckily I had enough soup from the first batch.

When Leonard came home I greeted him with a smile and a kiss, wearing my new earrings.

And this is what he saw:

Take that, Doris Day.

My First Two Weeks

2008-11-07T09:45:00.003-07:00

Here are some highlights from my first two weeks seeing patients on my own:

My Stats:
# Patients seen daily: 10-13 (this will increase over time)
% Spanish speaking only patients: ~40%
% of patients that are homeless : ~15-20%
% of patients without any insurance: ~80%

First prescription ever given under my own name: Vicodin (hopefully this isn't a trend!)

Weirdest Moment: Getting hit on by a 400lb. toothless man with uncontrolled diabetes.

Most Frustrating Moment: Getting yelled at by the husband of one of my patients. She was new to the clinic and was requesting extreme amounts of pain medication for her chronic back pain. I had run a Board of Pharmacy report which showed that she had been to multiple providers over the course of a few months and had received hundreds of opioids and strong anxiety medication. I wasn't going to give her the medication she was requesting, so she ended up sobbing and he was yelling. At one point I literally had both hands out in front of me, palms facing forward saying things like "we're going to try out some of these other medications first," and "I really think physical therapy would help you" but to no avail. They walked away upset and she didn't show up to her next appointment.

Saddest Moment: Seeing an 8 month old baby for her well baby check, and learning that her 14 year old mom had been feeding her cow's milk as she couldn't afford formula. The baby ended up having iron deficiency anemia. This is a pretty big deal in babies this young, as they can end up with impaired mental development even if the iron deficiency is corrected.

Proudest Moment: Diagnosing a very grumpy 54 year old man with vertigo after he'd been previously diagnosed with a viral stomach infection twice. I gave him some Meclizine, called him the next day, and he was feeling better and sounding much less grumpy.

Coming Soon: Leonard's First Two Weeks

Overexposed

2008-10-31T06:28:00.000-06:00

This is what Leonard and I would look like if we were vampires:

Just wanted to make sure you saw something as scary as a Leonardcula today.

Happy Halloween!

Apple Sunday

2008-10-30T06:00:00.002-06:00

On Sunday Tiffany and I canned up a storm.

This time it was 50 lbs of apples. It was tempting to get even more than that. The branches of the trees were sagging with the weight of apples and I knew that what we didn't pick would go to waste.

It was a lot of work and the yield was huge. We ended up with 20 quarts and 9 pints of beautiful cinammony apple pie filling.

That's enough for about 49 apple pies.

Too bad neither of us even likes apple pie.

It's About Time

2008-10-29T07:33:00.003-06:00

New Hair:

When Life Gives You Lemons...

2008-10-26T20:43:00.017-06:00

I'm not a big fan of portrait studios with their fake backgrounds and posed shots. So when the clinic Leonard and I work for gave us vouchers to a local portrait studio for a headshot to be displayed in the clinic lobby, I wasn't very stoked. I begrudgingly got ready, and Leonard and I rushed to have our pictures taken. These are the pictures the clinic will receive:
Meh.

But here's the best part. The actual portrait packages were for multiple poses, meaning we got to choose what to do with the rest. The photographer girl wasn't too impressed with our idea of what looked good, but I think you'll agree these next photos are the bomb.

Here's Leonard's idea of "Artsy Halloween:"Pretty cool, right? Then I discovered the prop wall full of creative accessories, stuffed animals, etc.

Here's Fairyland Leonard:

This photo really got me excited, and the creativity just kept coming. I noticed a picture on the wall of a newborn baby whose floppy neck was held upright by a small stuffed teddy bear. I looked at the prop wall, and sure enough, there was a humongous stuffed bear, waiting for Leonard to create his own infantile shot.

It took begging. A lot of begging. And promises of delicious future dinners. And promises that I wouldn't ask him to do anything embarrassing for a long time (although, the word "long" is pretty subjective, isn't it?)

Here is the result:

Once Leonard decided to just go for it, he really got into character. We have an 8x10 of this next one, and they even added a unique border:
This is my favorite one by far. I was crying as he made this pose, I don't think I've laughed this hard since I was a pre-teen:
We even have wallet-size for those of you with brag books:

I have an 11x13 print of this interesting collage photo:

By the time we were through, the photographer chick was happy to see us go. What was going to be a horrible experience turned out to be a blast, with tons of photos as evidence. I owe you Leonard, I owe you big time.

Bountiful Harvest

2008-10-22T19:33:00.012-06:00

Last weekend we went to a friend's orchard near my parent's home. No one is using any of the apples grown there, so we pretty much have an orchard full or apples all to ourselves.

The sun was setting when we got there. I love Nyssa at dusk.

Leonard and I were lucky to have my kid sister Molly along:Molly (aka Molescule) is a gifted journalist.

She's also my only non-blue-eyed sibling, leading to plenty of adoption stories while growing up.

Molly does a heck of an impersonation of that Newton guy coming up with the Law of Gravity:

After only an hour or so, we ended up with about 90 lbs of apples that my sister in-law Tiffany and I turned into 17 quarts of scrumptious applesauce:

Leonardism:

Leonard's Mistress

2008-10-14T22:08:00.013-06:00

I've always felt secure in my relationship with Leonard. He's never been the type to follow the silhouette of a beautiful woman with his eyes as she walks by our table at a restaurant (thank goodness). During any given day of rest as I am busying myself with any myriad of tasks, I can usually turn and find Leonard at my heels, simply desiring to be near. The fact that we've gone to school together and now work together is a pretty good indicator that he enjoys spending time with me. Recently, though, this confidence was shaken.

Leonardism:
It was one of the hottest days of the year in Portland this summer. Leonard and I were cuddled up next to our portable air conditioner, trying to cool down. The rest of our apartment outside of this 15 foot radius was stifling and muggy. I turned and looked at Leonard, noting the content look on his face. "What are you thinking about?" I asked, and then immediately chided myself for the cliche question. "Oh nothing," Leonard replied, placing one arm around me and the other around the air conditioner. "Just layin' here with my girls."

After that conversation we always referred to the air conditioner in the female gender. "Honey, it's warm in here, will you bring her into the living room?" "Sure thing, sweetheart, she'll be there in a moment."

One day I was fixing my hair, frustrated that the air conditioner was constantly blowing at my face. I sighed, annoyed, and turned it off. This caught Leonard's immediate attention. Looking at me fiercly, hands clenched into fists, he hissed under his breath, "You take your filthy hands off of her!" I faked fear, turned the A.C. back on, and giggled, impressed by my husband's exceptional acting abilities. The emotion, delivery, it was all so...real.I was excited the day of our move. I had gone through every item we owned, judiciously throwing away some articles while giving some to Goodwill, keeping only what we truly needed. That bulky air conditioner unit was going to be a problem. "I think we should put her on Craigslist," I told Leonard. "Our next place will probably have central air." Leonard's face fell. In barely a whisper he spoke, "But what if we need her?" His beautiful green-blue eyes were distressed, the corners of his mouth downturned. I was taken aback. It reminded me of a child forced to give up his beloved dog. No, it was more than that. The look on his face, the sorrow, exactly what was he conveying? Realization hit me hard: true love, driven asunder.

Just how old is Leonard, anyway?

2008-10-10T17:52:00.014-06:00

Leonard is 70 years old:
He chews Doublemint gum
His favorite candy bar is the Salted Nut Roll
He uses Old Spice
He whittles
He eats high fiber cereal
He has a side part

Leonard is 10 years old:
He plays video games
He sleeps on his tummy
He eats peanut butter from the jar
He's shy around strangers
He watches zombie movies
He has a side part

No trapper keepers or pencil boxes this time

2008-10-07T19:00:00.003-06:00

In the spirit of being forced to take pictures in my first day of school outfit year after year, I made Leonard take a picture with me before our first day of work.

Note the mirror that broke during our move.

For the next two weeks we will be enduring endless orientations on electronic medical records, HIPPA/OSHA, etc. We'll also be spending time with another provider to figure out the flow of the clinic. Then it's time for our own patients. I'm still trying to not hyperventilate when I think about that.