Give some love to a fellow Star Wars Nerd!

So there is a little girl (a first grader) who was bullied at school for carrying a Star Wars water bottle-- and, it seems, for being different (adopted and having an eye issue).  I am so thankful that my Doodle (also a first grade girl) has never had an issue carrying her Star Wars water bottle to school . . . or for that matter has never been teased about the fluffer-nutter sandwiches I cut into the shape of the Millenium Falcon and TIE Fighters--yet.

If you have time, check out her mom's blog post and leave a comment.  Mom and daughter read the comments together and mom is collecting the comments to be made into a book for her daughter.  I think the comments are directed to a second post, she is so popular.  In this case, I think the more love the better.

Peas, They're Not Just for Dinner Anymore

So our Teeny Tiny Mousy (TTM) loves peas.  And the other night I was on high alert since we were having peas for dinner and she has this raspy phlegmy cough.  Thanks to Dan and his experience with elderly patients, I now fear that the girls will aspirate peas and other small, round foods. I'm that person who cuts the hot dog wheels into quarters, cuts grapes into quarters, etc.

Turns out I had more to fear than the aspiration--I caught her trying to put peas up her nose.  Alas, the popcorn kernels were not an isolated incident.   Any bets on what she shoves up her nose next?

Doctor's Wife, My A**

So I was on one of my favorite blogs the other day, Everyone Needs Therapy.  If you haven't checked it out, you should.  But this post isn't about her blog.  I looked to the sidebar, as it seemed like quite a few new blogs were added.  Among the gems, I found one written by "the doc's (almost) wife" (I'm not going to link it here, I'm protesting). It was all about being the wife of an orthopaedic surgery resident.  This was not really a blog about the soon to be wife, mind you, it was all about residency and job interviews, and match, etc. 

There were a few other similar blogs on the sidebar of the "the doc's (almost) wife."  So I googled doctor's wife.  Several more blogs popped up.  To be fair, I haven't looked at all of them, but SERIOUSLY?  These women (for the most part) are blogging about being Doctor's Wives????  These bloggers have no identity of their own other than blogging about their partners' careers?  Lame.  One even mentioned being a feminist.  Really?  A feminist. Blogging about your husband's career? 

See, I've been with my husband for many, many years.  I have an understanding of medical school and residency and beyond.  And while it was hard and my husband is super smart, he's not all that and a bag of chips.  He's a person, not a god.  Just because he did well in medical school and is a doctor does not mean that I will genuflect to his staggering accomplishment on a daily basis (sorry, honey, but I think you already knew that.)

I would never blog about myself as an appendage to the great and mighty doctor I'm married to.  I am my OWN person.  With my OWN identity.  With my OWN career, thank you very much (and, in case you are counting, which I am not, I have more advanced degrees than my husband--okay, maybe I'm counting just a little).

In reality, it is sad that these bloggers don't feel like they have enough to say on their own.  Or if they do have something to say, they feel more people will listen if they are a doctor's wife. 

I hear it though, in our world.  "OOOOh, you are married to a DOCTOR!"  "You're SO lucky to be married to a doctor!" "Can you ask Dan about [insert name of weird illness] here?" I get the cards addressed to Dr. and Mrs. Daniel Evans (and they piss me off, by the way.  I kept my name when we got married ten years ago, get over it).  I'm not sure what this gets me in the lottery of life.  Yes, I can ask him what the weird rash is that I have, but he's not great at diagnosing kids' ear infections and we argue about how to treat our own and our kids' various illnesses. 

I'm proud of my husband and the work he does every day.  I'm just a heck of a lot more than a doctor's wife.

The Doodle, our math/science brain!?

Of all of our girls, Doodle is the most like me.  Verbal with a wonderful creative streak.  Sensitive.  Remembers everything.  Warm and welcoming once you get to know her.  Sometimes lacks a filter.  Keenly focused on fairness.  Curious.  Loves organization and lists.  Stubborn.  Loyal to her friends.  Perfectionist. Loves to be in control.  She is so like me in so many ways that I was surprised when we had teacher conferences.

Apparently, the Doodle is great at math and science.  She is also an accomplished and talented artist for her age.  She does just fine at reading but is very quick with numbers.  See, I had made the assumption that because she was like me in many ways, our strengths would be the same.  Not so.  It was a great reminder to keep our expectations of our kids in check.  The good news is, I wasn't actively trying to fit her in a mold or force her one way or another.  It was just that my lens, my perceptions, didn't quite match reality. 


I knew that the Doodle was good at math.  She loves her math homework and wants to do it first.  I knew that she was good at science--I don't know any other kids that as toddlers would watch the BBC Earth documentaries over and over.  It was just that I had never really thought of her as a math and science person. 

Don't get me wrong, ever since Mrs. Guinand scarred me in junior high math, I was determined that our girls would embrace math.  I ordered all sorts of educational toys to increase spacial awareness and math readiness.  I was determined not to pass on my self doubt about math to them.  I've been actively TRYING to raise Science and Math Geeks, with a capital G.

I'm glad she loves math and science.  I'm going to encourage her.  But I'm also going to try to keep my labels in check and try not to over emphasize any one subject over another.  While it's great she is a science/math kid, I'm going to try and make sure that is not all she is.

I'm also going to research serious art classes for kids her age--something I know very little about.  Not sure where the artistic talent came from, but I'm going to try and nurture it.

This was a great lesson in parenting.  And a wonderful reminder to embrace our children as they are, for who they are. 

She said it better than I could- Can we stop the hate?

I've been sickened about the recent suicides of gay teens who have been bullied.  I've been thinking of posts in my head and composing, but the words haven't come together.  Then, I read this post today at Love Isn't Enough and it really resonated with me.

Here's that post again.

It Has Begun

Today I got in the shower and all of my nice shower gel was missing.  You know, the kind that you buy and savor, the kind that is the opposite of "I'm desperate at Targ*t and the baby is screaming so let's just throw the first shower gel I see into the cart so we can get out of here."

Me:  "Girls, do you know what happened to my shower gel?"

Doodle:  "Yeah, it's in our bathroom.  We needed it to take showers while you were gone."

Me:  "You needed both of them???"

Doodle: "Yeah, Moo likes the strawberry and I like the almond. Can you buy us some of that?"

It has begun.  The last vestiges of the things that were completely mine are now gone-- at least most of them (I'm pretty sure they are not ready for bras, yet, although they do like to wear my heels).  The little luxuries that were mine alone are now fair game.  I'm going to need a lock for the medicine cabinet--and not for the medicine, for my good face stuff (the stuff that I buy that I am too embarrassed to admit to my husband how much it costs).  And what is truly stunning about this?  They are SEVEN and SIX, not SIXTEEN and SEVENTEEN.

At least they have good taste.  Sigh.

The Mystery of G, Solved!

I took Kevin's advice (at least with respect to the letter and not with respect to gambling) and sent an email to the company that made the "Meet the Letters" DVD.  To my surprise, the president of the company replied to my email, twice.

The first email simply read:  goggles/glasses.  Kathy

The second email read: Btw, you aren't the first one to ask!  I wish we had done something different with that character!  Kathy

I'm thinking that after reading my email, she was thinking, dammit, not another person asking about G again!  Then realized her terse reply was a bit harsh and sent the second email.  Or not.

Anywhoo, the mystery of G is solved.