The Doctor's Wife

Before I said "I do," many caring friends and family--and some strangers--felt compelled to dole out marital advice--unsolicited, I might add. It's human. Against my own principles, I do the same thing. (And don't even get me started on the advice you receive once you have a baby. That's for another post, another time.)

Back to the wedding advice. You know, it was the usual: communicate, don't argue over arranging cabinets, remember to love and respect, express expectations, don't go to bed angry. Yet, no one warned me about the hardest part of life for me after marriage.

You see, for years, I was identified as the scrappy, smart girl from humble beginnings, who secured two jobs in publishing her freshman year plus a job at Dillards to pay my own way--yes, my own way--through college. Fast-forward seven years to find me as the acquisitions editor and director of the book division at Randall House. Scrappy. Smart. Practical. Moxy. Responsible. Slightly inappropriate humor on occasion. That's me.

So when my nuptials moved me to a new town in a new state in a new church in a new neighborhood with a new job and every person I met was new, I experienced an unexpected and certainly unprepared for identity crisis. My moniker, despite my best efforts, was no longer scrappy, smart, self-made girl. I was now the doctor's wife.

At first, it was difficult. Wait. What am I saying? This adjustment took me YEARS to accept. We're knocking on five years of marriage, and I'd say I'm just now able to wrap my mind around it and own it. While I still am not "okay" with the following scenarios, I've learned to accept them as part of life, and even barely notice when they happen:

• Always being introduced to new people like this: "This is Emily. Her husband is a doctor." You didn't know Bryan's occupation is my most qualifying trait?
• Upon learning of my husband's profession, someone saying: "Well, you must be loaded" or my personal favorite, "You hit the jackpot."
• And the most difficult to accept . . . when a new lady meets me and learns the MD presence in our home, I often encounter one of two responses--the cold shoulder or the buddy buddy. The cold shoulder is the person who has insecurities and/or prejudice about people who just might be rich, or at least have more money than she. The buddy buddy is the gal who thinks being my friend will get her into the country club. 

See what I'm talking about? I was so totally unprepared for people's presuppositions of me. Thus, I'm taking it upon myself to stop the bellyaching and take up the cause for the sake of doctors' wives worldwide.

(I can see the public service announcement now: Lady with ponytail in lounge pants and a t-shirt with a baby on her hip. Scrolling at the bottom . . . "Doctors' wives. We're people too.")

Cue the bulleted list of  . . . wait, I have to go to bed. It's 11 p.m., and I've got one load of laundry to hang on the drying rack before I snooze. We've got music class for the wee one in the morning, and no, I don't have a maid to do my laundry or a 24-hour nanny. My crusade will have to wait until tomorrow . . . or the next day. 

My First--and Better Be Last--Trip to the ER

I'm posting about my less-than-stellar 24 hours so that all the friends and family, who've so sweetly worried about me, can rest their fears. And yes, I can just tell you in one swoop. This girl is tired.

Long story short . . . after being up for several hours last night and experiencing pain I hope never to feel again this morning, Bryan took me to the doctor, which quickly turned into a visit to the ER.

I'm happy to report after seven hours of IV's, blood work, a CT scan, pain meds, and heaps of waiting, the source of my pain was identified. Thank God, the problem didn't require an admittance to the hospital or surgery as I feared. I will follow up with my doctor tomorrow to address the problem.

Whew, glad that's over!

Like Cute Stuff?

My friends Robyn and Chrissie just launched a new website petalprinting.com.

And it's one of those websites that has so many cute this and thats, you'll melt. Did I mention most of their products are customizable, monogram-able. It's a great stop for party favors, personalized jewelry, etc, etc.

I just sent Bryan a link with my Mother's Day idea . . . for me. :-)

You're also in luck. I have a discount code that lasts through April 30 that I can share with you. Just type in petal20 when you check out to save 20% off your total purchase!

Enjoy!

A Scalp Scare

Sadly and unfortunately and I-can't-believe-it and boo: Anna and I didn't make it to the Food Truck Extravaganza.

So where were we?

The doctor.

Sometime last week, or maybe even the weekend, I noticed these yellow crusty patches on Anna's scalp. I tried removing them and we did the usual hair washing on Saturday. Despite my best attempts, the stuff spread like crazy, covering 3/4 of her scalp by yesterday. To say I was worried is an understatement. I am a first-time mom, you know.

It totally looked like cradle cap--maybe the worse cradle cap you've ever seen. I was confused/concerned why she was getting cradle cap now when she's not had any problems with it before. So for two nights, Bryan and I bathed Anna, dousing her scalp in olive oil and brushing her scalp with a toothbrush to remove the ick. Again, we saw minimum improvement, if any really.

Yesterday, I sent an email to the doc just asking what he'd recommend to get rid of it. The nurse phoned this morning as we rushed to music class with tips and one caution: If the irritation moves beyond her scalp, call us.

By the end of music class, I noticed a dry scaly patch on her eyelid and few bumps trailing from her eye. Within the next hour, Anna had a rash by her ear, up and down her left arm, on her leg, and all over her back. Talk about the power of suggestion--ha.

We'd already planned to stop by Bryan's office on our way to the food truck fundraiser, but this visit turned into a Dr. Daddy consultation. Alas, with one look, he suggested we make an appointment.

Thankfully (and miraculously) the doc had an open slot just 20 min later. At first, he thought it was cradle cap too. I was getting arsenal of questions--as any good doc will do--about hair care routine, allergies, new foods, etc. Then we were ushered back for a sample of the crusties to be taken at the lab.

The verdict: inflammatory tinea capitis. You know exactly what that is, right? :-)

In other words, Anna has a fungal infection on her scalp. This fungus is in the same family as the ringworm fungus. It is essentially identical but presents differently on the scalp. And her rash could be the spreading of the fungus; or it could be her immune system's response. While this form of fungus is slow-growing, the doc said once it takes hold it can replicate "exponentially"--the word he used. (Such a comforting term to a mother's ear . . .)

And even better, it's contagious. Before you completely freak out, it's not that contagious as in air-born. For those who've fixed Anna's hair, played with her hair bows, touch her head, you could likely pick up the fungus. However, most adults already have immune resistance to this; thus, the reason why toddlers and young school kids are the most common patients. But those adults can be carriers. There's no way to know if you have it or where Anna picked it up for that matter. We just have to toss out her brushes, wash her sheets in hot water, disinfect her hair bows in a plastic bag for one week, give her oral medication, and wash her head in this special shampoo for  . . . wait for it . . . TWO MONTHS. In addition, Bryan, our babysitter, and I will be washing our head in special shampoo for two months too.

I realize this isn't life or death, but with the thought of an impending move within two months and what not, the idea of battling a fungus infection for 8 weeks seems daunting. I know, I know, it could be so much worse. I'm grateful. Really.

I'm relieved too. Here's a confession: I have little confidence--dare I say even some insecurities--about maintaining Anna's hair and scalp in a healthy way. When this scalp issue arose, I was so concerned I had done something wrong to cause it. So learning she has a fungus that I had nothing to do with makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, I am not the worst mother in the world. :-) Come on--all you other moms know. We beat ourselves up when we think we've done something to harm our little one, even if that means just a dry scalp, a head cold, or whatever.

So this mama is now praying for a good response to the meds, no high fevers, no super infections.

Oh, and I should note to all my friends with kids who we have contact with, as soon as Anna starts the meds, she will be okay to be around. No quarantine for us.

You're Invited: Food Truck Extravaganza

Dearly beloved, come gather together with Anna and me tomorrow at Hope Cottage as we taste yummy food truck treats! From 11:00 a.m.-2:00 p.m. several food trucks will be stationed in the Hope Cottage parking lot for a lunch feast. This event will raise funds for the foster-to-adopt program at Hope Cottage.

There are an estimated 3,000 children in Texas alone waiting for a forever family. Hope Cottage's foster-to-adopt program not only finds loving, permanent homes for these darlings, but also aids families, who desire to adopt but can't afford other programs, to do so.

Here's where to meet:
Hope Cottage Adoption Agency
4209 McKinney Avenue
Dallas, TX 75205

Hope to see you there!

In. To. Everything.

If we weren't in the middle of severe weather season and if our area hadn't recently been pummeled with tornadoes, I'd make some wisecrack about Anna being THE Texas tornado. And since she's the sweetest, silliest baby girl, I won't give her the natural disaster moniker. She's just a wonderful, curious 1-year-old.

Now the picture below really isn't Anna's fault. I totally encourage discovery play, even if it's messy (sorry Daddy).  She got into a baby-proofed drawer. (Oh yes, she has long figured out how to open those.) I quickly removed all the dangerous items, and then allowed her to play with band aid boxes galore while I primped for the day.

But don't be fooled, Anna keeps me on my toes. 

After breakfast, I was steaming some food for Anna's lunch. (I still cook batches of veggies in bulk for her, freeze, and use to supplement her meals.) While I was cooking, she was taking my spice jars from the pantry to the window seat in the kitchen. Back and forth. Harmless. 

I decide I need some socks on my chilly toes. I walk to my bedroom, get socks, and come back to the kitchen--only a few seconds away. I find Anna halfway to the bedroom with the lid off the thyme container, sprinkling substantial amounts of the spice along her path. She was also gingerly licking the thyme lid, enjoying every minute. Then she sees me, throws the lid in the air, and takes off running. Upon catching her, I give it the best "no no" I can muster at this point and say we need to clean up. Being the good helper she is (really she does love to help), she runs to the spilled spice and starts "wiping" it with her hand--a.k.a. spreading the stuff further. 

**20 minutes later**

When she's awake, I take my shower in the guest bath as there's not as much to get into and I can corral her a bit better. Yesterday, I was in our master bath gathering all I needed for a shower in the other bathroom. The door to the toilet was left open, which she quickly took advantage of--splish splash in the water. Ahem.

She knows when Mama says, "Let's take a shower," to head to the guest bathroom. That's what happened yesterday too. She was several steps ahead of me. As I turn the corner into that bathroom, I hear splash, splash. Mhmm, she's sloshing toilet water again. After I get her sanitized, I remember my hair clip was in the other room. In the 10 seconds (less really) it took for me to get the clip and come back, this is what happened: 

What am I going to do when she's two?

Honestly, I find all of this endearing and quite entertaining. I was giggling the whole time . . . Oh, Anna!

Easter 2012

Our Easter Sunday was perfecto! The services at FWPC were worshipful and focused on the wonders of Christ. The rainy day made for excellent nap weather; Anna surprised, impressed, and delighted her parents by taking a 3.5-hour nap. 

Bryan and I topped off the day by attending our first Rangers game. They won 5-0--whoo-hoo. Let's see, Kentucky won the tourney . . . now if I can just get Rangers to actually win the World Series, it'll be a year to cheer. Ha.

Look at our darling girl all done up in her fancies (getting a still-don't-move pic is a bit impossible):

The Pre-Easter Highlights

Happy Easter weekend to you! So far, it's been a good one for us. We are excited to worship with our church family at FWPC tomorrow. 

The weekend has been a mix of relaxation attempts, Easter shoe shopping for the wee one (waaay more difficult than imagined), grocery shopping, cleaning, and packing. Glamorous--I know. 

Yes, our house is in a state of "transition." With the home remodel approaching, most of our belongs are being boxed up for storage to make room for hammers, lumber, and appliances. And this packing biz is going much slower than hoped; but my motto is "slow and steady wins the race." If I can conquer 3-4 boxes per day, I feel it's a success. Oh, did I mention that Anna's learned how to tear the tape of the boxes? Now you see why the slow progress. Ha.

Speaking of the Youree jewel, she's more and more little girl and less and less baby, which is BREAKING her mother's heart. She's such big business now--eating regularly with a toddler fork, brushing her six teeth daily, understanding everything I say seemingly, running, climbing, playing babies (so cute). Where has the time gone, right?

No worries, I'll post some Easter day pics soon. But here are a few shots from our holy week. :-)

Anna showing me--for the first time--something she built with her blocks.

Ta-dah! Did it all by herself.

(Please ignore the blinding white legs.) We played outside after the sprinklers ran, which leave a nice puddle by the garage. Guess who sat in the water? Of course, this was encouraged by her mom.

And we played bubbles. Good thing these "toddler" bubbles aren't toxic.

"Yes, Mama will blow bubbles for you."

Again, we have a problem with putting things in our mouth still. Teehee.

On the edge of the infamous puddle.

Finally! This girl will trod in grass after months of refusing to step foot on the green stuff.

And Anna is getting the hang of climbing. I don't know to be happy about this or not.

Mama's cute cutie!