Hurry Up and Slow Down

Yes, my kids are in that super hilarious (*sarcasm*) phase in which "potty words" are really funny.  They are funny to drop at the dinner table, to substitute in Frozen song lyrics in the car ("Let it gooo, Let it gooo, the poopy never bothered me anyway"), to whisper loudly in an ear, to shout as you jump off the jungle gym, and everywhere in between.  Our canned line has been, "Potty words belong in the bathroom", and as expected they are wise to this and now upon entering the bathroom in any capacity they will sing song potty words the entire livelong day.  They are smart; they get it.  Poopy is funny.  What is not funny is that SH2 still has several pee accidents a day and now SH3 wants to start using the "big girl potty."

As minions, we are in this together

I Hiked 65,843 Steps and All I Got Was This Bible Verse

I hiked 65,843 steps in one day.  I never would have imagined that hiking all those steps was going to be one of the easier challenges I would face these past few weeks.

Yes, I climbed all the way up this and then a lot more.

Moving Heaven and Earth

I had previously mentioned wanting to move my parents closer to us so that we could help them more; help them enjoy the things they love about life.  We moved them.  It was a very long week (okay more like a month) of packing, de-cluttering, organizing, and stressing.

The day of “The Move” was long, hot and hard.  It takes a village and in this case it took approximately 15 people 14+ hours, but in the end they slept on clean sheets in a made bed in an unpacked house eight blissful minutes away from us.

They live close (like come-for-dinner-and-go-home-let’s-not-make-a-night-of-it close) and we recently had them over for dinner to celebrate escrow finally closing on the sale of their old home.  The kids and I made chocolate cake with white icing which is their favorite.  My mom helped with SH1’s homework and instructed me on how to re-wash the couch cushion covers.  My dad tirelessly played hide and seek with SH2 and SH3.  I made dinner and answered pages, accepted patients from other hospitals, and talked to residents via phone while my husband mowed the lawn.  It was all very pedestrian, perfectly pedestrian.

The same private waterfall we took a photo at 10 years ago
The only thing changed about it was us

It takes a village to raise 3 small humans, it take a village to get homework done with SH1 when SH2 and SH3 want to play and dinner has to get on the table but your physician wife doesn’t get home until 6:11pm and she has had a very long day too.  It takes a village to downsize 66 years of life into a 2 bedroom town home.  It takes a village to feed/shuttle/love/bathe 3 kids so my husband and I can go on a once in a lifetime 10 year anniversary vacation to Maui WITHOUT small humans.

We brought SH2 a coconut purse (because she is a “collector”) from Hawaii and she has not put it down.  

"This is my coconut purse, my Mom and Dad
brought it back for me from Huhwhyi.
Do you want to see what is inside?" 

She tells every.single.person she sees about where it is from and how she became the proud owner of such a treasure.  The coconut purse is breaking already; the lining is coming away from the coconut.  I know nothing will replace this coconut purse and I have decided to take a “come what may” approach to its eventual demise.  SH2 is growing up; they all are.  SH3 sleeps in a big girl bed and shares a room with her sister and SH1 has a bunk bed in a room of his own.  The nursery furniture was carted away by a sweet couple who are excited to start a new chapter in their lives. 

I am so glad that this all came at once, the move, the big girl bed, the vacation, the Ikea 100000 piece bunk bed, and the reconnection with the man I love.  If not, I would have cried on the floor of the empty nursery laying in the spot where SH3 ground Desitin into the carpet and wondered what was next.  

Two days before we sold this furniture I spent no less than 4 hours 
attempting to get Desitin out of the carpet/ottoman.

The smile on her face...grrrrrr

My village supports me.  My God sustains me.

For the first time in my life, “come what may” is not welcoming the other shoe to drop, but ushering in a new chapter wherein things are a little easier and I smile more.  I am in a really good place right now and I thought you should know.

Perfection in so many ways

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The Day A Bear Ate My Bones

I get the following text from my husband (and father of our children) on a casual Thursday mid-morning.  I envision my husband pulling a too small chair up next to SH2 who is coloring.  For the sake expediency we will call him Big Human 1 (BH1) and she looks something like this.  Her eyes may or may not be open while coloring.

BH1: May I join you?

SH2: Sure 

BH1: Do you come here often?

SH2: Yes, with my sister.  But not my mommy.

BH1: Why not your mom?

SH2: She's dead

BH1: That is so sad.  What happened?

SH2: She went out to milk the cow, but it wasn't a cow.  It was a bear and it ate her bones and her body

BH1: I am so sorry to hear that

SH2: It's okay I'm drawing her a picture.  She's getting fixed up.

Admittedly, I was shocked to learn that a bear ate my bones and I was dead.  I think every mom's first reaction is one of self deprecation, "Oh great now my 3 year old is killing me in her kooky daydreams."  Until I realized exactly where this crazy kid picked up these notions.  I have been reading some Laura Ingalls Wilder books to the kids at night mixed in the Magic Tree House series when they grow weary of Ma and Pa Ingalls.  Two weeks ago this is the page we read.  

A case of mistaken identity
Little House in the Big Woods by Laura Ingalls Wilder
Illustrations by Garth Williams

We had read about Ma going out to milk the cow in the dark and giving the cow Sukey a little smack on the booty to get her to move away from the gate only to realize it was a bear.  In SH2's version, however, I did not meet with as quite a fortunate fate as the book characters who all survived including the cow tucked safely in the barn.  I am still not sure why she killed me off in her version but regardless this is living proof that she is likely an auditory learner and can remember things with amazingly good accuracy like her BH1.  Well that and you should never smack a bear on the ass or it will eat your bones.    

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Never Say No To Long Hugs or Brushing Teeth

My husband has been encouraging me lately to write something about work. 

No matter how hard I try, my musings always start out about work but always end with small humans, which as you can assume is very much like my everyday life.  This post is no exception.  

Contrary to what it looks like here, I do work.  I work full time in fact as a hospitalist at a teaching hospital and I love my job.  I find it hard to sort out what exactly I can write about without talking about interactions with patients or trainees which is illegal.  I recently worked 21 days in row and that was hard...really hard on me but even more so on my family.  I swore not to do that again and from that self-made promise comes this post.

It sucks to come home exhausted but try and turn it on for your kids who are dancing and shouting with delight when you walk in the door.  I struggle to be thrilled and grateful for that greeting, but honestly sometimes I cannot muster the strength.
I get tired too.
I get tired of being touched.
What a weird thing to be tired of right? 

Can I please be tired of something more normal?  Something that does not make me feel like the coldest most heartless mom ever? 

Group Hug

I was tired of nursing a baby or pumping every 2-6 hours around the clock for 14 months and was guiltily relieved to give it up and take back ownership of my chest (or as SH3 points to them and says "Tummy?" and then points to her belly button.  I continue to work on not being insulted).  I get tired of listening to lungs and hearts with a stethoscope so short that I can smell what the patient ate for lunch yesterday, tired of picking up bandages to see what horrors lie beneath, tired of hugging someone and telling them they have cancer, tired of introducing myself and shaking hands, tired of vulnerability, fear, despair, hope, pain, and healing, tired of touching.  I often wonder if I leave a little bit of what I was saving for my kids and husband behind with every patient, nurse, colleague that I see and at the end of the day I am all used up.  

You see I am not a "hugger", my love languages are "Quality Time" and "Receiving Gifts" (The 5 Love Languages by Gary Chapman).  Touching is something I have to do with conscious effort. My son and husband's love language is "Physical Touch".  They are cuddlers and sit-close-to-me-breath-the-same-air type people.  So what is my deal?  I am not grossed out by much of anything, so I can safely say that is not it.  As a kid, I was loved and cuddled a lot, another dead end.  I wonder what is it about me that keeps me from rejoicing that these snuggly warm bodies want to be close.  

I recently did a book study at my church of 1000 Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are by Ann Voskamp and on the first meeting I admitted to a table of women that I find it very easy to rationalize the uncomfortable or unfitting parts of who I am with seemingly plausible excuses about why I can't or don't have to do something.   

I have been touched all day long; Mommy just needs a minute to herself

I don’t have the energy to play/cuddle with you; I am so emotionally and physically exhausted from all the human suffering I saw today. (OK so maybe I wouldn’t use those exact words with a 3 year old.)

I am talking to Daddy, can I have a second? 

I have icky work clothes on; let me go change before you show me what disaster you have created.

Why are you all wet?!  Where are the couch cushions?!

I want to change how I treat the love they all so freely give.  

Loving is not a chore, it is a pleasure.  Touching is not a hardship, it is a gift.  Cuddling is not a nuisance, it is life giving. 

Stay with me here.  We recently made a rule in my house that we are not allowed to say "no" to anyone wanting to brush their teeth.  (Yes we had to make it a rule because brushing the teeth of 3 kids under 6 is NEVER convenient, NEVER quick, NEVER easy, and ALWAYS a mess, but it needs to be done and the kids love it.)  I was focused on the inconvenience of it for me and not thinking of them and how I should want to foster a love of good oral hygiene.  At this point it is all good genetics and lazy dumb luck that no small human has a cavity.  (That and I feel bad about my kids hearing me lie to the dentist about flossing their teeth. "Sometimes we only floss three times per week"  AKA: never).

Tragedy averted

No more excuses.  It is not about me at all.  It is about what those around me need.  They are not asking to smear blue toothpaste on the counter and spray spit on the mirror, they are hoping I will just reach out to them. 

Yes.  Just Yes
Image credit: Rants from Mommyland

I am grateful for arms to hold them, breath to squeeze out, hair to rumple, an ear to whisper love notes into, and a heart that always has enough room for one more touch.  I am grateful for the chance to emulate that stupid sticky blue toothpaste that glues itself on to every surface it encounters.  Today I will be more like that toothpaste I hate.  I will glom on to them and appreciate the joy it brings to my small humans.  

Let us be grateful to people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom. 
--Marcel Proust


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Who Knew Rock Bottom Was So Sandy?

We went on a family beach “trip” (the term “vacation” is reserved for a trip wherein I am able to close my eyes or read a book for > 5 minutes laying on the beach and not be terrified that someone is going to drown or be abducted).  As often happens I have no idea what my point is until I start writing and this post is no exception.  Interestingly this post is not about the trip at all but an answer to the question that I have been asked innumerable times, "Why does it take you guys sooooo long to get to California?!?"  

July 4th
One of my favorite pics of the whole trip

It started out with a bang…more of a crash and scrape.  Our vehicle lacks the storage space for a week’s worth of belongings including sand toys and boogie boards, so we are forced to strap most of our luggage to the roof and when I say “we” I mean my husband.  It was 110 F on the morning we were leaving.  I was asked to re-park the car in the driveway and when I was backing up SH1’s bike got caught in our tree and was ripped from its tie down spot and dragged across the roof dislodging one of our aftermarket cross bars.  Now a complete removal of all roof luggage and replacement of the bar, all luggage, bike and repeat tie down was the only way we could get back on the road safely.  

1 hour later…

This was actually our first try at leaving.
Neither of us felt like documenting the second departure attempt. 

We are finally on the road.  We left 4 hours later than we had hoped and the first half of the usual 6 hour total drive time took us 5 hours and presumably the last half would take another 5 hours.  I found myself wondering where exactly the “rock bottom” of our trip was so that we could hit it and then start the upward swing to fun.

We stopped here and 12 miles later
Not Joking

We did not yet reach rock bottom at the truck stop Taco Bell wherein SH3 literally screamed for 10 straight minutes and threw no less than two tacos on the ground in her rage (she does poorly when we try and push back a meal time) but darn it could we leave city limits without stopping twice?!

Our fancy "eating area"
I am not sure how we managed to capture the only short window where no one was crying.

How Do I Torture You? Let Me Count the Ways

My husband and I just celebrated our nine year wedding anniversary.  We met in high school at the mutual age of 16, but our friendship did not turn romance until 2001 and since then we have celebrated a number of Halloweens together.  As a kid, I celebrated "Harvest" and dressed up as a Biblical character for the church harvest party which really was fun, but we did not go trick or treating.  Admittedly there is a part of me that is making up for that 9 year old that wanted so badly to be Strawberry Shortcake and as such I tend go overboard on Halloween and plan coordinated family costumes months in advance.   In my Ode to My Husband post on Facebook I used a picture of us this last Halloween which honestly might be my favorite pic that we have ever taken together (aside from our wedding pictures of course). 

I mean seriously this photo is amazing
Photo credit:  My sister in law, Jessica

I commented in my post that he is so wonderful about wearing the most ridiculous Halloween costumes that I can dream up.  Not only does he wear them; he WEARS them.  He really owns the part he is forced to play.  Most of his costumes end up being a one piece polyester or vinyl uni-suit which is no picnic when it is still 100F in October, but he does it for that 9 year old part of me that wants so badly to wear a costume.  He does it because he loves all of me, even the neurotic making-up-for-your-nonHalloween-celebrating-childhood parts.  He commented on that Facebook post by posting a picture of one of our first Halloweens together with a photo that I did not know even existed.  It was then I realized that I have made him look ridiculous A.L.O.T. 

You are under arrest!  CARDIAC ARREST!

My Own Worst Enemy

I am real crappy at taking a compliment.  I am not the type to argue if you say something nice; I will politely listen to your kind words and thank you.  The issue is that I rarely if ever take the words to heart.  I can't translate them into improved self-image.  

I do have a few areas where I feel I have some skill and when it comes to most forms of communication I feel somewhat gifted.   This weekend was the resident's graduation and it is always a night I enjoy.  Everyone gets dressed up and grins from ear to ear with pride and accomplishment.  You meet all the beautiful families that you have only heard about.  It was this night that I was completely taken off guard.  An ultimate compliment was given and I couldn't pull it together to even do my typical polite thank you. 

The only photo I have from the night is this pre-award ceremony obligatory car selfie

Let Us Drink and Be Merry for Tomorrow My SHs Will Catch Pneumonia

GIRL'S TRIP!

Yes that is right I went on a girls only trip with five of my best friends who are also busy working moms to Napa Valley, CA for four days and it was magical.  

My beautiful crew of sanity keepers

The week before I left 13 of 25 of the students in SH1's kindergarten class came down with high fevers, congestion, muscle aches and a good case of the grumps missing almost all of the last super fun party week of school.  SH1's symptoms lasted five days and capped off with an ear infection at the tail end.  I prayed earnestly that God would spare SH2 and SH3 of this same fate, but when they both woke up at 1:00 am a few days later with fevers to 103F I went on-line and purchased stock in ibuprofen and thieves oil.

How Making a Beer Bong is Like Being a Doctor

In honor of Teacher Appreciation week and the next to last week of school, I wanted to share my own kindergarten 'teaching' experience.  

As I have previously mentioned, my son's kindergarten teacher is amazing and I am honestly teary eyed thinking about the year ending in one week.  Because she is open and wonderful, she invites any parent to come and talk about his/her career to the class.  I had the esteemed honor of talking to my son's kinder class about what it is to be a doctor.  As any good physician would do, I did my research.  I looked up articles on how to present to little kids, to keep them engaged and have fun.  I bookmarked 10 different websites with craft ideas, and scoured the city's dollar stores for enough funnels so all the kids could make their very own stethoscope.  I wanted to be infectious; they would all walk out of the class starry eyed and inspired to be physicians.

As a thank you each child drew me a picture and wrote a thank you letter (that the teacher transcribed for improved readability).  Here are a few examples of how I make an impact.*

Dr.  thank you for teaching us about veterinarians.  Love, 
(I mentioned the word veterinarian ONCE.)

Tie Game, Bottom of the Ninth, Full Count, Two Outs, and There's the Pitch...CRACK!

I fixed the washing machine by watching a YouTube video on how to replace the rubber boot. Our leaking machine stopped leaking in a matter of 2 hours; the guy on the video did it in 12 minutes but that is beside the point.  The dryer now that is a different story; our dryer had been squeaking for at least 6 months and finally I went to restart it after adding a few things and it wouldn't go back on.   I assumed this was the poorly neglected belt and rollers but after two evenings of solid dryer-cursing work and an annoyingly sub-par YouTube video my husband and I had it back together only for it not to work again.  It needed a new motor which I, of course, ordered from Amazon.  My father, brother-in-law, and husband spent an few hours putting it all back together after my dad made a part that they lost in the rush to dismantle it.  My husband later told me he just knew it was never going back together when they looked for the part for 30 minutes and couldn't find it and he was shocked when my dad fashioned a new one out of random parts in the garage.  Honestly, I never had a single doubt.  

Smiling Through My Teeth

We were recently watching an episode of Word World on PBS and they were talking about what a sweet tooth was.  I immediately told SH1, "You have a sweet tooth!"  He readily agreed and proceeded to identify the other teeth our family members have.  

"SH2 has a salt tooth, Daddy has a pepper tooth, SH3 has a milk tooth, and Mommy has a..."  

Oh God, I thought, please don't say wine, don't say I have a wine tooth.  

"Mommy has a caffeine tooth!"

I laughed for a minute straight out of relief and his adorable honesty. 

"I said that because you love a mamilla latte." 

Even at 3 years old SH1 appreciates a well decorated cookie
Photo credit: Terah Lake Photography

Eating Bald Pan-a-cakes Atop Laundry Mountain

There was a little girl,

Who had a little curl,

Right in the middle of her forehead.

When she was good,

She was very very good,

But when she was bad she was horrid.

       --Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I wanted to make the post-church Sunday breakfast.  I like my scrambled eggs better than my husbands (this is the only thing that I make that I like better; he is an amazing cook) and I really wanted to see if I could make donuts or some other pastry this happy morning.  Despite the lack of time I have for it, I really like to bake.  It feeds that A+ in organic chemistry lab part of me that likes to measure precisely and see things turn out how they are supposed to when you follow a recipe to the letter.
This book, however, haunts me...

I made them once and they turned out okay at best.  I spent all this money on a stupid pan, an unrealistic book, and lemon curd all which I have used once in 5 years.  The batter requires you to whip egg whites to stiff peaks prior to folding it into the sifted dry ingredients or something like that.  My world with three starving kids under six does not afford me opportunity to whip a multiple step batter into anything other than a frenzy.

I got an idea.

We are a pancake mix family on those weekends when we have the time and energy to make them.  These are just round stuffed pancakes, right?  I read the cooking instructions for the Ebelskivers substituting pancake mix batter for crazy fancy batter.*

A Spring Break in the Daily Routine

Everyone has a story of their best spring break EVER.  I have mine and it involves being in college and having access to a house boat, friends, and sunshine.  For the past few years spring break has meant very little to me at all.  Following the second hardest February of my life one year ago this week, SH1 had just told us he had pin worms again. The depression and laundry piles that I was left with made me completely unable and unwilling to acknowledge spring break at all. This year is miraculously different.
Don't get me wrong we had a scare when SH2 complained her bottom hurt last week; my poor husband and I inspected that kid's butt-hole for at least 60 seconds straight.  She grew uncomfortable with the attention to her anus and we literally had to look at each other and say, "If it is so what?!"  She does not have pinworms; she was constipated and decided to start poop holding, a mere speed bump in our world.  (That will teach my kids to complain of pain in their bottom.)  
Monday when I came home from work to their screeching laughter, I realized that SH1 (6yo), SH2 (3yo) and SH3 (18mos) have a thing or two to teach me about spring break.

It is not about learning to tie shoes
It is not about homework, practicing phonograms, or spelling words
It is not about backpacks or lunch boxes
It is not about schedules and spending the day buckled in car seats 
It is not about using inside voices or keeping our body under control

It is about asking every.single.day. "Do we have school tomorrow?" and when I reply "Nope not for # of days" they dance around me excitedly planning what they will do with ALLL that time
It is about watching Frozen or The Croods or Turbo (over and over)
It is about eating every meal outside and pointing out the hummingbirds
It is about SH3 saying "Do" and nodding her head as in 'I do' instead of 'Yes' when you ask her anything 
It is about a trip to the zoo along with every other bored school age kid's family in your district
It is about a muddy pile of clothes and a happy naked toddler who was stripped because she found the sand and water mixture to be glorious fun
It is about blowing bubbles in the tub until you are out of breath from laughing and bubble making
It is about pretending to be a baby (insert animal here) for hours on end
It is about SH1's T-ball practice and spring training games
It is about walking to the park and watching SH3 go up the steps and down the slide 30 times in a row
It is about staying up late to build Lego cars 
It is about couch cushion forts that get cleaned up before I get home because they make me crazy for some unknown reason
It is about movie night with fizzy lemonade and popcorn
It is about SH2 thinking that every day that has passed is either "last year" or "yesterday"
It is about dance parties to Backyardigan's ditties and Frozen songs 
It is about three hour naps for exhausted toddlers
It is about coming home to colored pictures and stapled pages ('books') that simply say 'I love you mom' over and over again with drawings of SH1 and I together

Couch cushion den for my happy baby foxes

Spring break is magical.  It is hard.  It is not a break at all.  It is a week-long chance to look back on who they were this time a year ago and who they have become in one very short year and one very long week.

Miracles Miracles Everywhere But Not a One I See

Two years ago this past month my Dad was in the intensive care unit (ICU) for two weeks on a ventilator (machine that breathes for him).  I came home one day from the hospital scream sobbing because I knew he was going to die.  My sister and I were 4 and 5 months pregnant respectively and my brother and sister in law were 8 months pregnant.  Those were the worst days of my life.

I have a rule about hospitals.  I work in them every day so I know how they work.  If you are unable to speak for yourself, someone has to be there at all times to advocate for you.  I am especially interested in patient safety and know that you are more likely to die of a medical error in a hospital than to die of motor vehicle accidents, HIV, and breast cancer combined. I have four siblings and between us, our significant others, and my mom we tried to be there all day every day around the clock.  This was very hard on all of us with families, work, and babies on the way.  Circumstances and exhaustion being what they were I was there every.single.day.  I burned through my accumulated days off that I had been saving for my maternity leave to post vigil by his side.  I couldn't do the nights because I needed to be home, but I was the physician of the family so I felt it was my duty to be there to ask questions, get answers, and fill in the gaps during the day. 

I had two small humans at home with a third on the way.  I went to my obstetrician (OB) for no reason other than I was irrationally terrified that all this stress was killing my unborn baby.  I could barely hold on, how could this small human growing inside of me?  I wanted to hear SH3's heartbeat.  I don’t know how he knew, but he offered to pray with me.  I sobbed as he prayed and couldn't believe how he knew that is exactly what I needed at that moment.  

SH3 and her Pa Pa sharing laughs and a snack

My Life is Poop

SH1 loves animals.  He wanted a petting zoo birthday party.  He was the ONLY kid that stayed in the gated area with the animals for the entire time they were at our house.  He missed eating pizza dinner at his own party because of his dedication to petting, holding, and chasing the animals.  Of all the parties we have thrown this kid, this is by far our greatest triumph.  

Best party ever!

Trader Joe and the Return of the Strawberry Hiccups

Dear Trader Joe's,

I am so sorry.  It was not meant to happen in your store.  I had a just picked up SH1 from school to have his teacher tell me that he complained of belly pain and was not himself.  I was not worried; I knew this was constipation.  I gave him some juice to drink on the way home both as a treat and to help hydrate.  After all I am an internist and have been pregnant three times such that I know the curative benefits of having regular bowel movements.  We went to Costco to pick up our photo Valentine cards.  My son reassured me that he was okay and really wanted to do this.  I had one more stop to make to pick up salsa for the class party tomorrow as well as bottle of wine for liquid patience and stamina as I helped address and put together 27 valentines with a 6 year old.

Finished product with a homemade flower in mine instead of a lollipop

For a Good Time-Out Call My 3 Small Humans

We traveled north this weekend for the festivities known as "Gold Rush Days" in Wickenburg, AZ.  My in-laws live there and as both my husband and I come from a small town we love this yearly brief glimpse back into small town life and how they celebrate their history.  

Parade watching

The kick-off parade is magical especially the live long horn cattle riding in a car and the candy throwing Shriner's in mini-cars.  

Cattle Car

Our small humans love every second of this parade that is followed by an afternoon watching the senior pro rodeo.  

Clearly the organizers of the rodeo do not have small children because the 2:00 pm start time after an exciting parade filled morning is always wrought with difficulty for us.  I was feeling ill, it was 83 degrees outside and we were all dressed in our full western attire with western shirts, boots, and jeans.  No seats and no shade were available because we were, as usual, an hour late.  Believe it or not SH1 and SH2 could give one crap about a rodeo--I know I know this is not terribly surprising.  They wanted to jump off the stairs, talk to the horses, and play in the dirt.  I wanted them to stop throwing rocks.  They were hot, bored and tired which is the trifecta for whining induction.  I walked SH2 all the way to the bathroom after she claimed "something was coming out of her" and waited in a smelly line only for her not to go a single drop.  I was done with the rodeo and had less than 8 seconds of it.  I let my frustration get the best of me and started throwing every kid I saw in time-out. 

Cutest cowpokes taking their rodeo time-out

You are Reading An Award Winning Blog! or a chain letter...

I have been blogging for a total of five minutes and was nominated for an award.

I am a Liebster Award Nominee!  Another bright and beautiful blogger, Lauren Snow of The Lovely Blog thought of and nominated me.

Here is how it works.  The Liebster (a German word meaning beloved) Award is basically an award given from one blogger to another with the concept similar to a chain letter.  I have now accepted said nomination so I am tasked with answering 11 questions about myself from Lauren Snow at The Lovely Blog and then I nominate other bloggers and ask them 11 questions.  The whole point is to identify newer blogs with huge potential but not huge numbers of followers and encourage and support each other to build community and readership.  

  

Does this make me an award winning blog yet?

Okay okay so if you have to wonder if it is chain letter or a real award then it is likely the one that is less impressive.  Right?  That being said I will take advantage of this opportunity and tell the world at large a bit more about my myself and my motives. 

11 questions that Lauren Snow wanted to know about me:

1. Lipstick or gloss?  Lipstick in the morning and then gloss later on for touch-ups

2. How old were you when you first wore makeup? OMG I have no idea, lets say 14?  That is a little depressing now that I think about it.

3. What's your best kept beauty secret? Eyebrows are the window to your soul.  It is far easier to take less than it is to put back more, so go easy on them. 

4. What is #1 on your bucket list? Rome!  I took so much art history and college I would love to see the Parthenon up close

5. Why did you start a blog? Honestly?  We are all in this together and parenting is hard but it is better if we can have a few laughs about the ridiculous parts and learn lessons along the way.  I thought that maybe I could help a few people out there know that they are not alone in their anxiety and frustration and that we all go through it.  It is just figuring out how to handle each moment a little better the next time.  

6. What's your favorite movie? I will watch any Will Farrell movie anytime they are on (terrible I know, try not to judge), but my favorite movie was the one that my grandfather Cyril Hume wrote the screen play too "Forbidden Planet".  Science Fiction is in my blood and I love it, seriously I LOVE it.  

7. If you could have dinner with anyone who would it be? Depends...are we talking wine and goat cheese and beet salads because then it would be Tina Fey.  I feel like we would be best friends and laugh a lot.  (Don't act so cool everyone has that movie star they know they would be best friends with if they met.)  If it was a 7 course dinner and serious conversation, Atul Gawande who wrote the books The Checklist Manifesto and Better inspires me to be better than I am and I would love to hear his wisdom to improve my practice as a physician and educator even more than he already has.  

8.  Are you a night owl or early riser? My husband jokes that I don't sleep; I hang upside down in the closet.  I don't consider myself either really.  I do not require a lot of sleep and typically wake up at 5:00 am to work out after staying up until 11:30 pm watching TV, reading, or doing laundry. 

9. Coffee or tea? Coffee + cream + sugar in the morning and tea later in the day, preferably iced.

10. Favorite quote. Ephesians 6:13  "...and having done all, stand firm" AND "Little acorns lead to mighty oaks"  ~fortune cookie Pei Wei circa 2012

11. Favorite city. Why? Again I am split between two.  Maui, HI for warm beachy relaxation and fresh seafood.  If I had the choice of where to live for the rest of my life it would be on the beach. The other is Prague.  I visited there once when I was pregnant with my first small human.  Even pregnant and exhausted I thought it was the most interesting and beautiful place I had ever been.  I can only imagine going there foot loose and fancy free to imbibe and see everything it has to offer without crushing fatigue and sobriety as my bed fellows.

Blogs I nominate

1. Vbac or Bust

2. Terah Lake Photography 
3. Hope Does
4. Revelation Wellness
5. A Baby Would Be Eggscellent

Questions I would like the nominated blogs to answer about themselves:

1.  Why did you start a blog?

2.  Who is a hero in your life?

3.  What is your most prized possession?

4.  Cat or Dog?  Why?

5.  What is your favorite post you have written?  Please provide a link in your answer.

6.  How did you pick your blog's name?
7.  What are three things you cannot live without?  
8.  Knowing what you know now.  What advice would you give your 13 year old self?
9.  What is your favorite post on my blog 3 Small Humans?
10.  How do you spread the word about your blog?
11.  What is your perfect Saturday?

How My Life is Like My Amazon Cart

I would certainly consider my life full.  My Amazon cart is also full.  Well it can never be 'full' per se, you can just keep adding more items to it and 'Save for Later', something I desperately wish that I could do in real life.  I have over 300 items in my cart, some for years.  I rarely if ever go back and look at them, but those items were hand picked by me.  I made my choices based on reading the reviews and their star ratings.  I weed out the crazy all CAPITALS reviews and pore spielllers to find the people that I trust and make informed decisions based on their insights.  I wish there was a way I could first read the reviews on life decisions and ignore the crazy all capitalized poorly spelled ones.  But then again maybe I don't wish that. 

I am pretty sure the conception of SH3 would have had the following reviews: 

Review 1.     

AmaZING BABY!! SHE WILLL BROUGHT JOYS UNTELLABLE TO YOUR LIFE>  A MUST IN EVERY ALREADY STRETCHED CAOTIC HOUSE.  JuSt DO IT, have a 3 kID!!!!!!  IT WILL BE FINBE!

 Review 2.

It was determined in recent studies that three children is the most difficult number of children to have.  Parents with three children are more likely to get divorced than parents in double and single child homes and that these parents are, when surveyed, the most stressed and unhappy about being parents.  I would strongly recommend against this.