Grace and Peace be yours

So many of our friends and family (and special patients) are dealing with painful losses this time of year. Sadly, there are too many to list, but you know who you are. I just wanted to take a moment and let you know that I lift you up in prayer every day. My heart aches for you. I pray that you are surrounded by love and that you will be filled with an abundance of grace and peace to fill those painful voids. I look forward to the day when you will celebrate Christmas in heaven with your loved one(s) and I wish you a joyful holiday season.

The kidlets. (and a weekend of AWESOME weather)

Headed out to the river to look for "deers"

and crocodiles, apparently

I heart them.

Kate wanted to take Logan's picture in front of the tree.  She did a pretty good job.

. . . and one of Medusa

Of course my attempts to photograph them together failed

somewhat miserably.  Thanks, Kate.

This little girl is showing off her new book that she earned for peeing on the potty.  (The motivation was short-lived as she hasn't done it again since then.)

Department Store Christmas Tree

I have always had a sliver of desire to watch as Christmas trees in stores are decorated.  I find myself in our local flower shop noting details and trying to figure out how to transform my tree at home into such a work of art.  After a detailed google search and some related "pins", I set out to do it myself. 
-I started by dragging our 8 foot, prelit tree from the basement piece by piece, plugged it in and immediately began assessing the lighting situation.  After removing a strand or three of lights, a trip to the store to replace them, and several curse words later, we had an erect, shapely, somewhat universally lit representation of the live trees that we had growing up and that admittedly, I miss dearly.  It leans a little to the left, but its positioned in front of our picture window where passers by would easily be able to adore my new work of art upon completion.
-Next I collected the newly purchased ornaments that I had selected, all in coordinating colors and shapes.  I couldn't ignore the rubbermaid tote that housed our collection of ornaments that previously been accumulating, so I lugged it up the stairs as well. 
-I opened the tote so I could start selecting ornaments and wanted to choose a few that were less breakable, you know, for the kids to add to the tree.  I have a three-year-old helper now, who was very much interested in this process.  In no time, I found myself taking out ornaments one by one and telling him a story about each one.  I tried to pick a few favorites, but each piece in that box tells a story. . . and I love it.  Here are a few of my favorites:

• a toothpick bordered pentagon with a chubby-cheeked picture of Logan. . . I mean Dale that's been adorning the Christmas tree for over thirty years
• a two inch embroidery hoop with a felt Christmas tree stitched carefully in place by a likely-then-seven year old Michelle
• a Precious Moments boy with the date of Dale's confirmation documented carefully on the back, representative of the detail his mom paid in choosing his ornament each year  Many milestones are represented on the tree (baby's first, daddy's first, our engagement, wedding, and our first home).  Thanks to our families for helping acknowlege these special moments in our life.  I love remembering them each year at Christmas.  There are also ornaments that give away our secrets (apparently someone who lives here likes chocolate. . . a lot!) Someone is a musician, and someone at one time or another bore a nickname that resembled Chewbacca.
• a ceramic gift package with the bow painted red and "DALE LEE" painted on the front and To Dale From Lori, 1977 written on the back  At Christmastime and always we cherish memories and stories.
• a silver painted ball that I brought back after enjoying a medical meeting in sunny Honolulu in December
• the Hallmark "sisters" ornament from 2007 that is fashioned of Chrismtas bulbs and frazzled garland  It is perhaps the ugliest thing I have ever seen, but it makes me smile to acknowlege that when things are frazzled and ugly I am the most grateful for a best friend who's also my sister.
• a wooden ornament that is carefully inked with magic marker   This was made by my niece, Madi and triggered memories of Sell Christmas weekend at our starter home in Omaha.  We had  so much fun!  Sleeping bags were strewn nearly everywhere and I'm sorry Deb, but I can't help but recall those awesome spectacles you got to wear after your Lasik surgery. 

Perhaps I am most sentimental about adding the likes of Winnie the Pooh, cup"Kates", Towmater, and John Deere tractors to the ranks.  These little guys symbolize our growing and changing family, and the excitment and wonderment of children at Christmas.  I've caught Logan sitting next the tree on a few occasions, reading stories with Curious George who now hangs on a branch near the bottom of the tree. 

For 2012, the tree is assembled, some of the lights will probably fizzle out, the lean to the left will likely only become more exaggerated and at some point I would not be surprised if the whole thing comes crashing to the ground.  Certainly we will pick it back up, put things back together, and move on.  This is how we roll. We're not perfect or coordinated to put together, but we're comprised of memories and stories and we're making new ones every day.  So if its okay with you, please don't expect a department store Christmas tree at my house this year.

our weekend in pictures

I think he's handsomel.

Gigglebox.

The weather was perfect for leaf piles, even at dusk.

At the State Cornhusking Contest.  I think they're all in heaven!

One of these children is more excited about the seating arrangement than the other.

That's better!

It's a cat face, of course.

An Eyesore

Literally.  I thought I'd take a quick minute to post for a couple of reasons.  1.  You need to understand that we have not fallen off the face of the earth.  2.  It is in my best interest for me to acknowlege "teaching moments" that my loving God utilizes to remind me that I am not in charge. 

I'm home today.  "Sick."  Except not really sick.  I'm not supposed to get sick.  I let little kids cough in my face all day and touch me with their grubbly little snot laden fingers and I don't get sick.  I feel fine.  I would rather be at work.  Except that I can't go to work with one eye that is nearly swollen shut and fire-engine red.  I have pinkeye.  Just the same as every kindergartner will experience this year.  Staying home for me is just as frustrating as it is for every kindergarten parent who can't go to work because their child has a silly little, extremely contagious, eye infection.  I shouldn't be surprised. . . Logan picked it up Friday, we wrestled with eye drops over the weekend.  For a brief  minute three times a day he hated me.  Now he's better.  So, a silly little common occurrence rocked my world for a little bit this morning.

Despite my efforts to wash my hands copiously and avoid touching my face, at some point my defense fell apart, and now I have a red, painful swollen eye.  It is preventing me from seeing patients today (it's preventing me from seeing anything at times).  I can't cover it up.  I can't wear makeup.  I can't "cheat" and run errands today.  So here I am, feeling a little bit vain.

And I have a confession.  I'm in the attic.  I snuck up before the kids got up.  The babysitter is downstairs taking great care of them.  They have no idea I'm home. My day has been extremely productive thus far with all of the silly little paperwork/online submission/ really just piles up on my desk and never gets done tasks.  And its quiet.  And for the first time in far too long its just me with my thoughts, thanking God for this wonderful blessing of a day away from patients (we'll call it my admin time that people speak of and of which I am unfamiliar). I'm grateful for this little hiccup, courtesy of communicable disease, that was laced with a dose of humility, a lot of laughs at my silly face in the mirror, and this afternoon, a couple of bonus hours with the kids.

Hope you're having a great day today.  We are grateful for the rain (I had to sound it out to spell it, since its become an unfamiliar term) this morning.  I think I'll get to work on a pot of belly-warming soup.

The end of summer

is here.  Already.  Although maybe not.  It feels like it flew by.  We have had much fun since the last post, but I won't bore you.  It consisted of a few birthdays, a few other family celebrations, a parade (we rode on a float and Kate was in rockstar heaven with her sunglasses and her perfected wave that she practiced for 15 minutes in the car).

Last week Dale had a couple of days off school so we took the kids to Omaha and hit the zoo.  The weather was absolutely perfect.  Dale made the comment when we entered the zoo that it was great to not have "thousands" of people to deal with.  The woman at the gate informed us that there were 1,029 visitors that day, which turned out to be just about right for us.

Being a little bit brave at the petting zoo

He was so excited to ride the rooster

Silly girls on the train

That's better



Mr. Conductor taking his job VERY seriously!
(He was pretty sad that the train wasn't running,
but he had a pretty good time climbing aboard
to check everything out.)

 



Just what the doctor ordered

We recently returned from "Dacation" as Logan lovingly called it. . . or an "Adventure" if he was feeling more, well, adventuresome.  We spent the week with family  (and snuck in visits with good friends too).  Our time was a little fragmented, and we spent time with different branches of family in different locations, and we wore out a couple of the kids' favorite CDs, and we didn't do anything too terribly exciting, and we logged 1200 miles, and we slept in five different beds over the course of a week, and it was perfect!  We got to spend time with some of my very favorite people.  We were admittedly a little hesitant during the planning stages, unsure how the children (or the grown ups) would handle the constant scenery changes and the hours in the car, but they impressed me once again and were troopers.  They loved setting up their beds in each new place, picking out the perfect spot and setting things out just so.  Perhaps my favorite part of the week (if I might be so selfish) was that I never once had to answer the question, "Mom, do you have to be a doctor today?"

We celebrated birthdays with the Sells:

And loved cousins

And were doted on by Aunties

And made forts in the car so we could nap better

And most of all, we giggled and sang and danced and loved and made funny faces like this:

While I'm not completely thrilled about returning to work tomorrow (I can do it. . .it's a short week!)  I do feel refreshed and rejuvenated.  I did take the time to do some reading while we were away, and one of the books was written by a Bostonian surgeon whom I respect a great deal.  He talks about the world of medicine and his advice to residents about to enter practice.  He stresses the importance of writing, encourages all of us to do more of it and less complaining.  I will renew my vow to try to blog and post more (although I'm not sure I can simulataneously write more and complain less. .  ha!  I'll do my best)





Faithful Foundations

Our family was lucky enough to attend two wonderful celebrations this summer. . . both Dale and my home churches turned 125 years old this year, and we appreciated the opportunity to head back and celebrate years of faithfulness from several generations before us. 

Our churches have similar, but different stories.  I grew up in a small, Catholic, mission parish.  The church is perched upon a knoll (or a hill, I suppose) two miles off the highway and about 10 miles from the nearest town.  There is no plumbing.  At times there was no heat.  (I remember sitting through mass one morning, seeing my breath, wrapped up in a lap blanket).   On a sad day about twenty-five years ago, someone stole the bell that used to sit by the back door.  I have many memories of climbing on the side of the bell to ring it, as we were too weak to ring it from above.  If your heart isn't filled with holy spirit on Christmas Eve as you walk through the snow in complete darkness toward a wooden church spilling with music and scattering light through stained glass windows, I don't know what would do it.  One hundred twenty-five years ago a group of farm families came together to form a parish. . . and I am so glad they did.  I am grateful for generations before me who made the trek faithfully, every Sunday morning, to cultivate their faith, to develop a relationship with Jesus Christ, and to form a "family" that still lingers today.  I am blessed to have begun my spiritual journey in such a wonderful place. There are currently about a dozen families who come together on Sunday morning to worship.  There is still no plumbing (or air conditioning. . . although I think the furnace is a little more reliable).  There's no microphone, no audio-visual aids, no distractions (well I suppose there are plenty of distractions. . . especially when my children are in attendance).  I am so proud of my little St. Francis de Sales/Schoolcraft parish, and wish you one hundred twenty-five more years of vibrant faithful attendance.

(sorry, I don't have a photo right now. . . I didn't find one that was easily hijacked)



Dale's home church, the Arcadia United Methodist Church, is also steeped in tradition, faithfulness, and active membership who love their families, love the Lord, and love to share the love of the Lord with others.  Shortly after we met, it became very apparent (and attractive) to me that Dale's faith, particularly his participation in the UMC was important to him and had help to define the man he was and the man he wanted to be for his family.  The Village (yep, village) of Arcadia, and in particular the UMC never ceases to amaze me.  They pack the sanctuary week after week, their roster includes generation after generation of faithful followers, and no task is too great!  They have a marked presence in the community, but perhaps one of their greatest accomplishments (in my humble opinion) is their ability to motivate people, in particular their youth members and those of surrouding communities, to participate in service mission trips around the country.  They pile people of all skill levels on a bus, take them to wherever the Lord's called them, and do GREAT things, literally rebuilding communities that have been stricken by disaster.  I can't say enough about how impressed I've been with the vibrance of this congregation.

As I reflect on these two small church families who have been so important to Dale and me, I am just so grateful and feel so blessed that we were able, with the guidance of our families, to grow roots into great foundations.  It can only serve to strengthen our relationships now, and give us a humble springboard as we attempt to raise a faithful family of our own. 

3rd birthday!

He asked for a cake with a moon "and a staw" (so that's just what he got; nothing more, nothing less)



Still working on the slugger swing

This little guy turned three on Tuesday!  I can hardly believe it.  He's growing up way too fast.  It worked out well that it was my day off, so we took a trip to GI and ate some Valentinos for lunch.  (Kate ate her body weight in noodles).  We stopped at Stolley Park for some fun in the sun, and then headed home. The kids took great naps, we had a quick dinner, and then we enjoyed cake with a couple of neighbors. 

Logan Dale, you are a true delight.  Your brain is clicking away constantly, and your capacity to learn is impressive.  Thank you for teaching us the beauty of patience, of hope, and thank you for being such a thoughtful kid.  We love you!

June update

It's been a while.  I've had several thoughts, but not the time to sit down and make them come together in a blog post.  So just know that you're thought about often, that my children continue to make me smile (and scream) every day, and that the Holy Spirit continues to move me to grow.  Now for a few highlights. . .

• We had our first experience with Operation Foreign Body in the Nose last week.  As I was putting my sweet daughter to bed (after she fell asleep at the dinner table) I caught a green glisten from her right nostril.  I was happy that 7 years of postgraduate education and $120,000 spared me a trip to the emergency room to retrieve it and credentialled me to do it myself.
• Last night while we driving home, a very tired Kate began to cry because she was convinced she'd lost her feet.  (They were under the blanket).  It was a good lesson for me, reminding me of the many times lately when I've felt so "busy" that I get wrapped up, can't make heads or tails of what's in front of me, and end up tearful and frustrated.  If I would only step back for a second, I'd realize my feet are attached to my legs. . . just like they always have been.
• My home parish turns 125 this year.  I was so proud of the celebration we had for a little wooden church situated on a gravel road with no plumbing which represents a community of faithful, hard working families.

The days might just be a little bit easier. . .

This picture cracks me up. I asked him to smile and this is what I got.

(Don't ever tell them I admitted this. . . ) if I would just listen to my children. Those little stinkpots are a wealth of good information! Allow me to explain:

Yesterday was my typical day off, or "Mommy Day" as Dale likes to call it. It's me and the monsters all day most Tuesdays, and I love it.

We're doing a lot of talking about potty around here (without a lot of success, but we're getting there). Of course, Logan wants nothing to do with it, but I digress. Shortly after breakfast yesterday morning Kate asked to sit on the potty. I helped to get her set up and then panicked because I had no idea where I had stashed the jelly beans (her reward for sitting on the potty). I tore through the kitchen, all while performing the obligatory song/dance/hand jive to celebrate Kate's big-girledness in her choice to sit on the potty. I secretly begged her to forget about the jelly bean reward and tried to think of a substitute. She finished her sitting (no active peeing yet) and her wiping (and wiping and wiping). By this point I was in full-on freak out mode, worried that I'd have to offer her a prune instead (haven't been to the grocery store in a while.) I helped her off the potty, palms sweaty, awaiting the meltdown that was sure to follow. Instead, she toddled over to the counter, pointed to the small crock near the sink, and said simply, "jelly bean." As any calm, rational, reasonable mother would then do, I opened the crock (where I had stashed the jelly beans) retrieved her reward, and decided that the five minutes I'd just shaved off my life wouldn't have been all that awesome anyway.

Later that morning, we traipsed into town for some errand running. As always, it was stupendous. Logan got all sorts of frustrated in Shopko, started crying, and in no quiet voice repeated "Mommy I can't be good" for all to hear. Half way through the grocery store about an hour later I realized that Kate snacked on grapes for most of the trip. We stopped for lunch, got them herded into the restaurant, and thanks to the breadstick lady who entertained them at the table while I ordered lunch, managed to get in and out of the restaurant without much struggle. They even ate. . .both of them. . . how often does that happen?

After getting them buckled in (by then they were t-i-r-e-d) complete with sippy cups, lovies, and a lullaby CD to coerce them to sleep on the drive home, Logan said "Get the milk, Mom." I reminded him that I'd already handed him his milk. He proceeded to repeat "Get the milk, Mom" a little louder each time. Those of you who know how long my patience isn't can appreciate that I reassured him (a little louder each time) that he and Kate both already had their milk. At a quarter past fed-up, I finally decided to ignore him and head home. I threw the car in reverse and looked ahead and lo and behold, my drink was sitting on the hood of the car, right where I'd left it. I put the car back in park, grabbed the drink, and shot a wink at my toddler, who had just spared my car a lemonade bath.

Who are these kids, and when did they get so darned smart??

Katherine Clare

Miss Kate is a *little bit* like her mother. . . you don't have to work too hard to figure out how she's feeling.

Logan Dale

I haven't posted in a while (or forever!!) so I though I'd post a few mugs of my kiddos who are growing up waaaay too fast! Logan is usually so stoic in front of a camera, so I'm especially fond of these photos where we caught a hint of a grin or a glimpse of personality. He talks all the time. All. The. Time. No drive is complete without his play-by-play commentary and pointing out every truck, train, combine, and schoolbus.

wEeKeNd

Aside from being too short (aren't they always??) my weekend included:
-getting two meals put together and in the freezer
-making a couple batches of cookies (early start on Valentines treats?)
-high school wrestling
-children that were actually pretty good during mass on Sunday
-Dinner. At a restaurant. With real silverware. And children in tow. Twice!
-Time for cuddles on the floor, a few new books to read, and rides for the kids on Mom's leghorse
-Finding out that Kelloggs took my favorite cereal and fillled it with chocolate (Are you kidding me??)
-getting to spend time with family to celebrate a birthday (and to quote Logan, we got to eat "very yummy Happy Birthday cake")
-a brief, gentle snow that accumulated just enough to make everything beautiful and white
-a quick visit from adopted grandparents (=neighbors) whom the kids adore.
-a couple of overdue telephone conversations (yep, with actual talking--no texting, tweeting, or facebooking about it)

I simply don't know if it gets any better than this. These, friends, are a few of my favorite things!

Getting the Best of Me

I sat down to post a few new pics of my kiddos, and this is the only one I could get to upload. I think its fitting, however. I'll try again later for the rest of them.

A week or so ago I had some extra time before clinic, so I decided to run a few errands. I grabbed some groceries and stopped to drop them off at home. The babysitter was there, cleaning up the kids' breakfast dishes. The kids were in the living room, each playing with their respective toys, laughing, and talking to each other across the room. They were perfectly content. I promptly asked the babysitter who the children were, and asked her where she'd stashed my kids. I mentioned that I never enjoy such peacefulness when they are both awake, and she alluded to the idea that this was pretty much their morning routine for her.
As I drove in to work, I entertained a huge wave of self-pity as I realized that my babysitter often gets the best of my children. It makes sense. They wake up, eat breakfast, and get dressed. They are well rested and are enjoying the excitement of another day and prospective adventures. They haven't had time to annoy one another, have full tummies, and aren't bored. By the time I get home in the evening, they may or may not have napped well, have torn throught their toys and found a few to argue over, and they most assuredly have some sort of foodstuff in their hair.
Then I thought about it a little bit more, and realized they probably feel the same way about me. I take my well rested, clean, fresh face to work every day. By 6 pm, the mom who walks through the door has devoted her whole brain to 25 people during their clinical encounters, argued with insurance companies (or providers or patients or nursing staff or hospital administration-ha!), been frustrated by difficult diagnoses, laughed with the clinical staff, spent an hour and a half talking into a tape recorder, and only wishes that whatever is crusted in her hair has come from a food product. Certainly "the best of her" was exhausted at one of those junctures.
I am trying to be very aware of who gets "the best of me" from now on. Certainly, everyone deserves the best of me, but I'm only human. I am so grateful for awesome help and a wonderful babysitter who takes great care of my kids and tries to keep things consistent for them. She teaches them invaluable lessons, and I couldn't ask for a better surrogate during the day. I am grateful for a wonderful husband who helps out at home in ways that several men probably don't even realize exist. He's flexible and patient. I'm also grateful for partners and a clinic who realize that I'm a Mom 100% of the time and that once in a while I need to reserve a bit of "the best of me" to take home.

hacked!

Sorry the blog has been unavailable the last few days. . .thanks to my faithful readers for the heads' up. Looks like it got hacked in to. I guess someone just couldn't keep their virtual fingers off the juicy details of our dramatic life. Anyway, I'm hoping things are back to normal.

While I'm here I'll provide a brief update (again, pics will probably come later as I'm a little short on time)

We had an awesome Christmas weekend. It was jam packed with travel, food, laughs, (not so much sleep) and of course, we were all spoiled with thoughtful gifts from everyone. A few notables include Logan's bison hat that scored big points at tonight's local basketball game, Logan and Kate's new kid-sized table and chairs (Kate was asleep when we put it together. When she woke up Logan led her to it and said "Look Kate, a seat for Logan, and a seat for Kate." It was precious.) Kate also scored a new stroller for her baby, which has helped to take her doll, several grapes, and a plastic giraffe for a walk when they needed one.

After a few short days of work , I enjoyed a long New Years holiday weekend. Most of that was consumed with a wedding for my dear friend, Abby. We got to reconnect with a number of friends, which was wonderful. Logan and Kate spent most of the weekend in the hotel room and were awesome. I took Logan swimming in the hotel pool, perhaps his first time swimming for this deprived child. He just kept saying "Big water! Big bathtub!" Guess I should work harder to get him to the pool. Special thanks to Grammie and Papa for the help with the kids all weekend.

I'm back to work tomorrow and am not looking forward to it. 2012 is off and running and it looks like its gonna be another dead sprint. Guess maybe it's time for new shoes-ha!

Best to you and yours in the new year. We'll be back soon!