While He was Away

Thankfully, I'm married to a man who is truly gifted in connecting with, and leading, people - especially young people.  That makes him a great dad, a wonderful teacher, an excellent future school administrator, and also a totally awesome youth group sponsor.  This week, he has been using his gift to the fullest at the CIY (Christ In Youth) conference in Roach, Missouri.  And, no, I didn't make up the name of the town, there really is a town called Roach.

Seven full days without my other half was scary, stressful, and sleep-deprived.  It's a lot of work getting all three boys up, dressed, changed, fed, and to daycare before rounds at the hospital; then a full day of work to be followed by daycare pick-up and cooking dinner with boys at my feet, crying, or fighting; then wrestling through our bedtime routine (remember the post "Goodnight"?); and finally ending the day doing dishes, scraping stuck-on Cocoa Puffs off the floor from breakfast, and finishing clinic notes.  Thankfully, we stayed at my mom's when I was on call, but that had its own challenges.  Ask her.  Still, it's completely worth it!  

Jason isn't oblivious to our challenges, but he knows, too, that it's worth it.

This year, to ease some of my pain, Jason had a surprise.  Actually, seven surprises - one for each day.  Before he left, he instructed me to check my email first thing in the morning before the craziness of the day began.  And each morning (or afternoon when Roach's Internet connection was bad) I found an email reminding me I was being thought of, missed, and loved.  Each email also contained a gift.

Saturday - Money to take the boys for a "special lunch."  Owen chose "The Yellow M" and ate nearly two entire Happy Meals.  What a great, healthy doctor-mom I am.

Sunday - Hidden in the kitchen was popcorn, candy and a link to a chick flick on Netflix.

Monday - A gift card to the salon to get the haircut I'd been whining that I needed.  Ooops, now I wish wouldn't have gotten it cut the Friday before, but you should have seen the look on Jason's face when I walked in with the new do Friday night.

Tuesday - Coffee and quiet at Panera which worked out perfect because I ended up with the morning "on call" for my rotation.  I never got a call.

Wednesday - He got my mom in on it, and she bought fried chicken for dinner.  Jason doesn't like fried chicken so I hardly ever get to enjoy it.

Thursday - A slideshow of photos and songs from the past 13 years titled: "Happiness."  Wow, we are getting old and fat.  No more Happy Meals for us either.

Friday - Him!  He's on his way home right now.

It was an awesome week.  An awesome week for Jason at CIY, and for the youth, and ultimately for the kingdom.  And I can't really complain, it was an awesome week for me, too.  Truly, worth it.

"The" House

It's not a secret that we've been looking to buy a house.  I've been looking half-seriously for over a year.  I bookmarked gihomefinder.com and snooped in as many open houses as I could. Then, a couple of months ago, we finally decided to get serious about it.  You have no idea how exciting it was to finally have Jason on my side and agreeable to buy a place of our own.

Since then, however, it has been a roller coaster.

The first day house hunting with Chris, our totally awesome realtor, we found it - "the" house!  I was convinced that this house was meant to be our house as soon as I saw the seller's family portrait over the fireplace complete with three boys of their own.  It was fate.  It was perfect.  Unfortunately, it  already had an accepted offer, and fate nor perfection could break through the legally-binding contract.

Bummer!

Then there came a lull.  We looked, and we looked.  We saw a lot of houses with potential and lot that didn't, but nothing we saw felt like "the" one.  That is, until last week.

It didn't take long after pulling into the driveway for me to feel it again.  This was it!  The big front porch.  The wooden shingles.  The big cottonwood trees.  The fireplace.  The lack of wasteful formal space.  The kitchen with a gas cooktop and an entire wall of pantries.  The 4th bedroom, I mean walk-in closet.  The huge deck.  The fancy playground that our boys ran straight to.  The included boat.  The sand.  Oh yeah... and the lake!

Wow.  I actually said, "wow!" out loud when I saw it.  To think that we started out living in a 400 square foot apartment, and now we could be living like this.  As we drove away, I had to have it.  I couldn't wait to go back.  I couldn't wait to move in, decorate, and have people over.

We signed our offer Wednesday.  It was a little under what they were asking, but they were asking a little over what we had planned to spend.  Okay, a lot over.  Thursday evening, after frustrating negotiations, we found ourselves standing back on the beach looking out at the lake and the big yellow two-story and deciding to give in and pay up.  After all, it was "the" house!

With everything verbally accepted, all we needed to do was go in the next day and sign the papers.

But... 

We didn't.  Nope.  We didn't sign them.  Shocking, I know.  It was "the" house!

We went home that night instead and talked and prayed and slept.  Jason had hesitation giving up on our goals to pay off student loans, and I had hesitation to give up a fourth bedroom and convenient location.  At the same time, I think we each would have given it all up if it would have just felt right.  And it didn't.  I will never be able to humanly explain why it didn't feel right short of admitting that we are crazy.

It is a great house, and, yes, I'll be making a "doctor's salary" in a few months.  On paper we can afford it, but we really can't afford it.  Not without sacrificing what we aren't willing to sacrifice.

So, here we are without "the" house.  And as much as I still dream about that house, I don't regret our decision.  Maybe, the lake house will be ours some day after all, or maybe, there is something even better in store tomorrow.

Date Night

Last night was a special night.  In nearly 12 years, last night was the first time I'd been on a date with someone other than Jason.  And Jason had been watch out because my little date was handsome!

Daddy-Daughter dates are sweet, a good way to build a relationship, and a great way teach a girl what to expect from a boy.  However, with three sons, we had to make a few adjustments.  Mommy-Son dates were created.  The goal is to spend some one-on-one time having fun and at the same time teach our boys how to treat a lady.

Owen is only 3 (and a half, if you ask him), but I was surprised how much he took to it.  He was a little man.  He got cleaned up and put on "man smell."  He held my hand.  He opened the door.  He used his manners.  He learned not to take girls to the "yellow M" for dinner.  He shared his popcorn at the movie.  And he even paid the "big money."  

I even got a little nervous.  What would we talk about?  What if he didn't like the movie?  What if he said or asked me something embarrassing?  Was my outfit appropriate?  Would he stare at that hair that was out of place?  They were the same questions I remember having when I was in high school.  Weird!  Girls never change.

It turned out to be a great night, and Owen is already looking forward to our next date.  Hopefully, he'll still have the same excitement when he's 13.

I have to say though... the best part of the night was the goodnight kiss.

Goodnight

Jordy is here now.  The older boys are "sharing" a room now.  Griffin is two now.  The sun never goes down now.  Jason is home all day now.  One of those must be the reason why we battle bedtime at the Newman house now.

And bedtime has been bad.  B-A-D.  The other night I actually wished for my pager to go off so I could be called in to help with a C-section.  It didn't.  Instead, I chased two little boys back and forth to their room for over an hour.  

Griffin silently slides out of his bed still holding his blanky and sucking his thumb.  Then he just stands there staring at you.

Jordy is a good sleeper, that is, when he finally gives up and goes to sleep.  However, before his eyes finally close he squirms, fusses, and screams.  Every arm, leg, finger, and toe is moving.  The pacifier stays in for about 10 seconds.  Of course, when I go back in to calm him, frustrated by his stubbornness, he just flashes me that big dimpled smile.

Now, Owen has been the bear.  He's usually the instigator - the rate limiting step - the linch pin.  He talks, laughs, cries, kicks, and runs.  It is like he has become possessed with a bedtime demon, and I'm not exaggerating.  There is no way that any other boy can fall asleep with that going on.

After trying a wide variety of sleeping arrangements, punishments, and reward systems; we're currently trying the ol' bedtime routine trick.  Bath.  Book.  Bed.  Owen in his bed.  Griffin in his bed.  Jordy in his, too.  We are about a week into it, and, honestly, it hasn't been going well.  Owen's rebellion has escalated to 3-year old cussing rants.  "Shut up, naughty, poopy!"  And while Owen is being escorted back to his room with threats of calling the police and Jordy's paci is getting replaced or his arms rewrapped, silent G slips out.  Blanket in tow.  Then we start it all again.  This can take hours.

And to make it worse, they are usually all up around 6AM.

I will say that last night was better because Owen actually stayed in his room all night (with Jason's help, of course).  I think we'll stick with the plan.  Only time will tell if we've found the right medicine to cure this terrible disease.  I'm hopeful.

At least they're cute when they're asleep...

(And, no, we don't have triplets, and those aren't all pictures of Jordy.  The top is Griffin, the middle is Jordy, and the bottom is Owen all at about 2 months old.)

The Things I Hate About Our Rental

• it's a rental
• the bathroom with the broken toilet seat, touchy outlet, & loud fan-light combination
• the fact that we can only use half of our master closet because the doors won't slide
• stained carpet (yes, I vacuumed... last week)
• the garage fit for a Mini Cooper
• the kitchen without a dishwasher, oven, or cabinets that close normally
• the basement flood whenever you do more than one sink full of dishes
• whiskey-themed-horse-shoe coat rack screwed into the living room wall
• random light switch in the hall, off center can lights, & 2-day half-life of light bulbs in the dining room light fixture
• Jimmy Hoffa's dirt mound in the backyard

Yes, I am grateful for a roof over our head, and there several things I actually do like about this house.  Still, it is more fun when I'm having a moment of discontentment to dwell and the negatives instead.

It doesn't help that we are in the process of looking for a new house, too.  Unfortunately, the home shopping process has been almost as frustrating as staying in this tiny, old rental.  The only house I've loved was already sold, so now my expectations are high and inventory is low.

Thus, here I am, stuck on Arthur street.  However, considering our first apartment was 400 sq ft, and our last house was 800, I think I can live with (or in) it for a little while longer.

They're Done...

... And I'm not.

This is the completion of another official resident year on the calendar.  Several of my classmates are no longer residents, and starting Monday, July 1, will be real live doctors, or chiefs, or fellows!  Congratulations are in order.

For me, thanks to some handsome little boys at home, July 1 is not going to be so significant.  Although I still feel that I learned more about being doctor, how to relate to patients, and normal newborn development during maternity leave it actually doesn't count toward the requirements for me to graduate.  Therefore, I still have two and half months of training before they'll cut me lose into.  Still, October is not that far away, and I will admit that I still have a lot to learn.  The cool thing about being a doctor is that will always be true.  God made human anatomy and physiology so awesome, complex, and perfect I don't think we humans will ever have it mastered.

Despite that, there comes a time that enough training is enough training.  So, here's to those of you who made it through the last seven years since we all met at med school orientation.  No one else will ever know what you've been through or what you've sacrificed.  You've made it.  Enjoy it.  You earned it!

Hopefully, soon, I'll join you in the "real world."

On a side note, one good thing about me not finishing yet is that I still get to blog.  :)

Back to Reality

I knew the day would eventually come for my maternity leave to come to its end.  Tuesday was that day.

This isn't the first time I've left my fresh new baby to go back to work, but each time has been different.  

With Owen, I was pretty emotional.  I cried.  I cried the weeks before anytime I thought of going back.  I cried giving him a bottle for the first time.  I cried hard that morning.  I cried throughout the day when I thought of him.  I cried when I got home and hugged him.  I cried my first in-house call night.

My time with Griffin was a little less sappy.  The end of my leave was also the beginning of my residency here in Grand Island.  I was excited to be here, and the first few weeks my work schedule was light.  I didn't feel like I was missing out on much.  However, there were still some tears when I dropped both boys off at daycare for the first time.  Thanks to my mother-in-law and a few wonderful babysitters, we had never used a "real daycare" in Omaha.  This daycare-thing seemed like a new stretch for me as a working mom.  Thankfully, our daycare is wonderful so the stretch was a little less painful.

Now, with Jordan, I didn't know how I would handle it.  I love my family and also my job, and I was excited to get back.  I wanted to feel productive and successful again, but not only in the "mommy" kind of way.  I looked forward to catching up with nurses, staff, and patients whom I hadn't seen for weeks.  I liked picking out shoes to wear that weren't slippers or flip-flops.  (But I liked picking out an outfit a lot less because I still have baby weight to lose.)  I was excited to gush about how cute and awesome Jordy is.  And, honestly, I was happy to not be changing diapers, administering time-outs, wiping up spilled milk, or folding laundry (or feeling guilty for not) for a few hours a day.

As much as I truly missed those handsome faces at home, and although I did swallow a tear or two on my drive in thinking about the big smile Jordy flashed at me for the first time the day before, stepping back into clinic and hearing "Dr. Newman" for the first time was a good feeling.  It felt like coming home after a long trip to paradise.  As much as someone says they hate to leave, and as often as they say they want to go back, there is still something to be said about the comfort of pulling into the driveway, sleeping in your own bed, and getting back to the old routine.

Now, we'll have to see how things go over the next several weeks.  It still isn't fun getting up several times a night, and adding a beeping pager to the sleepless nights will be interesting.  Finishing clinic notes long after the boys are in bed will always be miserable.  And, because Jason is home for the summer, we haven't yet tackled the challenge of getting all three to daycare.

For now, I just enjoy every moment - the good, the bad, and the messy.  I am so lucky to have the life I do with three beautiful boys, one awesome husband, a supportive family, and the ability to do something I love!

Jordy and I on my first day back to work.