another trip in the way back machine

I know it's kind of a cop-out to post a picture that I first posted in this very blog a few years ago, but holy shit, look how many pagers I was wearing back then. ("Back then" was October 2007, my third year of Anesthesia residency.)




Left to right (per your perspective, not radiologic left to radiologic right) I'm wearing my cell phone, the Peds Trauma pager, the Peds Arrest pager, the Peds Pain pager, and my own personal pager. Needless to say I was on the Peds Anesthesia service at the time.

Still going through old pictures to find stuff to flesh out the photo page of the book website. My goal, as I mentioned before, is to post pictures that flesh out the stories that I wrote about in the book, some of which I touched upon in this blog but most of which I have not. FRESH STORIES. It's going to be fun, I really am looking forward to having you read them.

Here's just one more picture that I found from when we first got Cooper (but which didn't make the cut for the book photo page) showing her shaved belly and spaying scar. Do you know how long two fourth-year medical students will spend looking at their new puppy's spaying incision, evaluating the quality of the sutures used and criticizing the technique of the ties? A LONG FUCKING TIME.




Anyway, I feel OK copping out because both Mack and Cal are sick, and no one wants to hear about that as nothing is more boring than other people's kids and their virions. Enjoy the photo page, I'm just going to keep updating it until we hit the Mack Era, at which point I'm sure everyone can fill in The Rest Of The Story.

hi again

I'm posting! Two days in a row! Because I am nothing if not inconsistent in the attention to which I pay this blog!

So Cal and I made the cookies, and I'm not going to tell you that they all turned out great, because while 23 of them turned out in decent enough shape to send to school, 15 of them (the ones on the pan closest to the bottom rack of the oven) turned out like this:





OK looking on one side, horror charred cinder on the other. Just like the Phantom of the Opera.

They still tasted OK though, so while I sent the 23 aesthetic ones to school in a box (luckily there are 22 kids in Cal's class), I couldn't quite bring myself to throw out the burned-on-the-bottom ones, because hey, don't waste food. So overall, carbonization aside, I would classify the cookie-making as a marginal success of family activity cum math lesson. If I have a pan with three rows of five how many cookies do I have and how many more do I need to make to make sure everyone in your class gets one cookie, etcetera. Not that I have to trick Cal into learning math (he actually has a wonkish devotion to all things mathematical and clamors for us to get him math workbooks, which I find alternately weird and satisfying) but it's always nice to have real life applicability.

Oh, one more thing from inside Target. Who else thinks that Blue Bell needs to update the packaging on their individually-wrapped ice cream products line?





The second one in particular is horrifying. Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? She ate too many ice cream sandwiches, that's what. And now LOOK AT HER.

And now, for no other reason than because she looks cute, a picture of Cooper.




Periodically I am obligated to show some sort of photographic evidence to my mother in law that we are not KILLING THE DOG as she so heartily insists. Look, it's not that we don't care about the dog, it's just when you have two kids, the dog is not your third kid, the dog is a dog. I know several people who have dogs-as-children who are about to have human children soon, and I keep trying to warn them that look, I know you love your dog, but be prepared, Rover/Spot/Cujo is in for a major downgrade in status. On one hand, it's kind of pathetic for the dog. But on the other hand, I don't give my children squeaky tennis balls to chew. So there you go.

holly jolly



Like Thanksgiving, I think this is the first Christmas that we haven't spent with family--most of our family, I think, is saving the plane fare for after Cal 2.0 emerges (and this may be wishful thinking, but it could be ANY DAY NOW, right?)--but I think we made an admirable go of it with just the three of us.

(That is to say: the four of us.)



I don't know who "MOW" is, but I hope he doesn't mind that I opened his present.



In a moment of weakness, and perhaps against my better judgement, I got Cal these "Yo Gabba Gabba" figurines. So now he will grow up to do drugs and join a violence gang.

The obligatory cookies, milk, and letter for Santa. Cal wants Santa to know: "DLDHDILLDLLHL."

Which apparently means, "I took the liberty of pre-sampling the Nilla for you, and don't worry, they're NOT POISONED. So enjoy!"

We had nothing else to do today (see above: no family in town) so we ended up going to the Georgia Aquarium, which was actually open early on Christmas Day. Those godless fish have no respect for the baby Jesus. We all had a good time, and Cal managed to hold out for almost two hours, which is pretty much the longest we've managed to stay at the aquarium before starting to get bored and cranky--probably due in no small part to his NEW CHRISTMAS CAMERA, which we got him (under advisement from another classmate's parents, who also recently had a new baby) as a bribe "gift" from his little brother. They have online shopping in the womb now, apparently. Also, maybe it will encourage him to keep his mitts off my camera, which is evidently not made of indestructible rubberized parts.

Hoping you had a happy holiday with people you love too. And also hoping that my next update will herald some sort of news of imminent new-baby-ness, at least, because I am getting pretty sick of this pregnancy thing. Come on out, Biggie Smalls, and join us out here, where things are merry and bright.

(Full Christmas photo set here.)