So you're going to be a soccer mom...

 

Today was Shaan's first soccer game.  As you can tell from the look on his face, he's a natural-born athlete.

I could tell that he was really excited that Shikhar was going to be his coach.  Despite the fact that he has been horribly ill all week, Big Daddy sucked it up and took the field with the rug rats...because he's AWESOME.

 

So, by default I guess I became "team mom".  Now I'm not going to pretend like there is much to this job...send around a sign up sheet for snacks, get the names ironed onto the jerseys, maybe an email or two...

Honestly, I think soccer at this age is more a chance for kids to get to run around outside and feel like people are EXCITED to come see them DO SOMETHING...And as a bonus we get to take pictures of how cute they look in their little uniforms so we can later use these photos in their graduation photo montage. 

For Shaan in particular, I thought this was important.  It seems that his older brother, Sonu, is always having the new experiences and eventually Shaan just gets lucky enough to tag along.  It felt nice to do something that was all about him.

 



So, how did it go?  Well, as you might imagine...a crowd of preschoolers trying to figure out which way to kick the ball.  At one point I know our team had too many kids on the field, but one was just running in circles around her dad (also on the field)...so I'm not really sure if she counted.  And the game ended as expected...called on account of too many kids crying and/ or refusing to play.  Gotta love it...it was a glorious 16 minutes.

 

And I know we aren't supposed to keep score.  But we MAY have won...thanks to the single solitary goal scored by this handsome soccer star above.  I'm just sayin'.  

 

And the coach, he's a natural.  I love watching how he goes out of his way to make sure everyone feels like they were awesome. 

And while there is still very little actual SOCCER involved in my SOCCER MOM experience I couldn't help but pause for a minute today to think about how much life has changed. 

Having actually arrived early to the field (imagine that!), we took a minute to drive by my husband's old high school (Creighton Prep) which was nearby.  The school he was attending when I met his adorable little 17 year old self.  

It doesn't seem so long ago...until you see the freshman sitting outside...and then look at us --in our mini-van, with our three cuties in car seats and baby girl on the way.  We have jobs and responsibilities...and our idea of a big Saturday is the 3 year old's soccer game. 

 

But, alas, maybe growing up isn't as lame as I once thought it was.  And...if you think about it...I got to spend at least part of my Saturday hanging out in front of Prep with four good lookin' guys that I'm pretty sure REALLY like me. 

 

And I would think even my 17 year old self would be excited about that. 



 







Gettin' Schooled.

Today I sent my baby to school.  Like real, honest to goodness school.  And while kindergarten may not be the most rigorous academic challenge he'll face in his life (his day as he described it mostly involved recess, lunch, PE, reading time, and snack...though he did have a vague recollection of French class...), it certainly represents one of the most substantial milestones in the life of this little man thus far.

 

 

And, God bless him, he was ready.  I mean, the kid is 6 years old (but acts like he's 16) and has been in preschool for four years. 

We talked about it all summer long.  What the schedule would be like, new things he could do.

We attended all the events -- the round ups, the picnics, the back to school night, the camps. 

We met the teacher, we brought in our school supplies early.  He was set. 



 

 

He woke up with a smile and said "It's my first day of school!!"  He brushed his teeth and got dressed on his own, asking for only a little help with his belt and "dress shoes".  He said that the uniform was "not so bad" (I picked my jaw up off the floor...usually asking this kid to wear anything but gym shorts results in a certified big boy tantrum).  He commented that he was pretty sure that wearing white crew socks with dress shoes and shorts looked funny.  I proudly agreed...and told him such a fashion faux pas was only acceptable at school  (can't miss an opportunity to teach such an important life lesson). 

He couldn't eat his breakfast...he was too excited.



 

 

I was 98.5% ready.  I had spent the preceding months double checking the school supply list, reviewing the uniform requirements, figuring out the logistics of the "new schedule". 

Despite my preparations, I couldn't help staring at that little square on my calendar (yes, I still use a paper day planner...) marked "first day of K" and sort of wishing it would never come.  I was excited for Noonie and I knew he would love it...but in the back of my mind I knew that after that day things would never be quite the same.  His world would be bigger.   He wouldn't fall under that toddler or preschooler category any more.  And after kindergarten, the years literally count themselves down...



 

 

But, honestly, today was awesome.  He was so eager, so full of pure excitement and happiness. 

He was not sad or scared, he was confident and ready to take on the day.

And I felt truly happy.  Sure, my eyes welled up a little...but I'm nearly 6 months pregnant...so, let's be serious - that is my response to just about everything. 

And I realized that while I had been working so hard over the past couple of months to make sure that everything would be perfect for HIM today...in the end it was Sonu who made today perfect for ME.  I was not sad or scared, I was confident and ready to take on the day. 

And, as usual, this little guy manages to give more to me than I can ever hope to give in return.



 

And the icing on the cake...sharing this experience with my best friend.  As Shikhar and I walked out of school and back to our cars we marveled at how fast time flies....that it seems like  just minutes ago he was our little chubby faced babe.  But it was fun.  One of those experiences where only the two of us knew exactly how the other was feeling.  And those are awesome moments.  

 

 

And when I came to pick Sonu up after school, little brothers in tow, he gave me a giant smile and a huge wave.  He gave his teacher a high five (apparently the check out system...which is rad) and turned to me and said,

 

"I kinda wish I could stay longer..."

 

 

So, yeah.  First day of K...we rocked it.

 



On the wrong side of the stethoscope...

Since I'm a pediatrician, people often ask me..."do you even have to take your kids to the doctor?".  The answer to that question is no...and yes.  Having access to all the equipment and supplies at the urgent care owned by our family as well as a license to prescribe medication has allowed us to nearly completely avoid bringing our kids in for visits other than check ups.  And yes, I do bring my kids for check ups...with their doctor...who isn't me. (Another question I sometimes get...).

Sometimes I forget what a blessing it is to know medicine.  I feel comfortable letting an illness run its course...I can generally identify, with confidence, when something is really wrong with my child and when something is really no big deal.  Now I do say "generally" because the truth of the matter is that I can never truly be objective or completely rational about my own children. 

I see kids...sick kids...all the time.  Without even completely realizing it, throughout every office visit I'm asking myself -- how sick is this little person?  is he safe at home?  do we need to do tests now?  will this go away?  does he need meds?  can we just watch and see how this goes?.  The ability to separate the truly sick kids from the not so sick kids is far more important than the extent of your medical knowledge...I mean, you can look stuff up.  But, on more than one occasion, I have found these skills can fly out the window when I'm looking at my own sick kid.  There is some level of illness where the mama anxiety tips over any sort of medical objectivity I may posses...and it's like I took a stupid pill.  I find myself at a loss..."what should we do?".  And I start to remember the REALLY sick kids I've seen through the years.  And I worry.

It's pretty well known throughout the medical community that doctors make terrible patients.  And I would have to say that I am no exception to that rule.  We know too much, we've seen bad things happen, we question everything, and we don't think any of the rules should pertain to us.  Guilty.  But mostly, I think it's that we have a really hard time turning over the reigns to someone else.  I don't see physicians as all-knowing infallible beings.  Nope.  They are just people...like me...and the jokers I went to medical school with.  And they make mistakes...not because they are bad, just because they are people...and that is scary.

Well, recently I have found myself too often on the wrong side of the stethoscope.  We started the year out with a string of illnesses which included a pretty serious case of bronchiolitis for our little Sai guy who, at the time, was not even 3 months old.  Our nanny called me at work and told me that my little baby was working hard to breathe.  I had her bring him over to our clinic and I remember thinking I just needed somebody else...ANYBODY else...to look at him.  I couldn't even think straight.  I had ordered countless nebulizer treatments for patients throughout my medical career...but I had never before held one up to the face of my own wheezing, struggling baby.  That sucks. 

Our little Sai guy was born with a urologic abnormality known as a hypospadias.  All in all, not a major functional issue, but something that is going to require surgical repair when he is about 9 months old.  Thinking about my little cutie laid out in the OR, intubated, being cut...kills me.  I know it needs to be done.  Really, I just wish I didn't know what surgery on a baby looks like.  I wish I could be more blissfully naive and trusting of the surgeon and the anesthesiologist.  I'm sure they are great at what they do...but they are just people.  Scary.

I thought Sai was going to be our first munchkin to undergo an operation.  That was until the last month or so when Shaan started to complain "Mommy, my ear hurt..." nearly every day.  Even when he was on antibiotics.  I drove to the pharmacy and asked them to give me a print out of all the antibiotics he had been prescribed over the past year...decided that it was probably too many.  Off to the ENT we went on Monday. 

As suspected that "owie" ear was full of fluid, hearing was decreased on that side, and the decision was made...tubes next week.  I recommend tubes for kids ALL THE TIME.  And I feel good about this decision.  As I say to my families who are apprehensive about their own child's upcoming tube placement, "I've never met anyone who regretted it".  I mean, it's a 20 minute procedure.  He will feel better and hear better.  But still...it's just a little different when it's my own baby.  I don't like to imagine what they look like under general anesthesia.  Ugh.

And so, despite my propensity to avoid playing patient, it looks like we have signed ourselves up for a least a couple major goes at it over the next few months.  I have faith that all will go well...and this experience will help me be a stronger parent and a more empathetic doctor.  And though they may have a few minor imperfections, we will rebuild my little six million dollar men...we have the technology after all.

Sonu - 20 Questions.

So here's a little keepsake I've been wanting to make for the boys.  Lifted from Pinterest, of course, the idea is to ask your kiddo the same 20 questions annually after they turn three--- and muse at how adorable they are as their responses change from year to year.  Well, Sonu is actually 4 1/2, but I was eager to start. 

So here it is...the world according to Sonu, version 4.5.

1.  What is your favorite color?
      Blue
2.  What is your favorite toy?
     My Transformer (actually Shikhar's Transformer from when he was little)
3.  What is your favorite fruit?
     Apples
4.  What is your favorite TV show?
     Superhero Squad
5.  What is your favorite thing to eat for lunch?
      Sandwiches
6.  What is your favorite outfit?
     T-shirts and "comfortable" pants
7.  What is your favorite game?
     Chutes and Ladders
8.  What is your favorite snack?
      Nuts
9.  What is your favorite animal?
      Pteroydactyl
10.  What is your favorite song?
      The Superhero Squad theme song
11.  What is your favorite book?
      The Avengers
12.  Who is your best friend?
      Cooper (from preschool)
13.  What is your favorite cereal?\
      Cinnamon Toast Crunch (like father, like son!)
14.  What is your favorite thing to do outside?
      Ride my bike
15.  What is your favorite drink?
     "Sonu Sunrise" (a mocktail we make involving OJ, grenadine, and club soda)
16.  What is your favorite holiday?
      Christmas
17.  What is your favorite thing to take to bed at night?
      My Spiderman book
18.  What is your favorite thing to eat for breakfast?
       Bacon
19.  What do you want to eat for dinner on your birthday?
       Brinner (breakfast for dinner!)
20.  What do you want to be when you grow up?
       I don't know...but definitely not a robber.  :-)

Girl...where you been?

OK...yeah, it's been a while...

I could come up with several excuses as to why this mama has been MIA...but really it mainly comes down to this...

 

Sai Krish Saxena was born on November 11 at 11 PM (thanks to my very talented obstetrician!).  He weighed in at a healthy 8 lbs 3 oz., and we busted out of that hospital a mere 18 hours after his birth. 

Now at 8 weeks old our little Sai-guy is cuter than ever.  He loves to eat (as you may have guessed from those cheeks!) and is an excellent snuggler.  He is just starting to smile responsively (said the pediatrician...) which, for me is always a huge developmental milestone --- kinda that first little sign that he's happy to be part of this crazy family.  Just the positive reinforcement a mama needs during that 4 am feeding!

Shikhar and I couldn't be happier to welcome the wee man into our brood, and his two big brothers certainly can't get enough of him. 

 

As we are making the transition from man-to-man to a zone defense we are working hard to establish a new routine.  It's been an adventure to say the least, and sometimes things get a little crazy...

 

 

...like when you don't notice the 2 year old completing his masterpiece in the living room.  He was so proud.  But overall I think we are adjusting nicely to life as a party of five.

 

So back to the blog I go -- as I desperately try to document this insanity.  I figure now, more than ever, I'll need a reliable reminder to take a few moments out to reflect and absorb just how truly blessed we are. 

 

 

 

Happy 2013!!

 

 





CALL me Crazy....

Call...you certainly earned your stripes as a four letter word this weekend. 

For those of you not in medicine, being "on call" is the time when you are the go-to guy, covering not only your patient care responsibilities but also those of an entire group of physicians...however large or small that may be.  That said, not all "calls" are created equal.  

When I was a resident I was on call every 4th night.  This entailed me spending the night at the hospital, working 30 hour shifts, admitting new patients and taking care of any issues that arose with patients throughout the night.  The best part of being on call was that the next day you were "post call" meaning you got to go home early (around 1 pm---probably only 3 or 4 hours earlier than everyone else) and take a nap----or, for me, pick up your baby from daycare and try to coax him into napping with you.  Oh, and the Taco Bell I usually treated myself to on the way home. 

I did this for 3 years, 2 of them with a baby.  How did I do this???  I have no freaking clue.  I suppose the side effect of this schedule was that I was too tired to think too hard about what was going on...and everyone else around me was doing the same thing.  I liken it to boot camp...only everyone is more nerdy and not in that great of shape.

As I exited residency, there was much buzz about "duty hour restrictions" ---basically the governing bodies of medical education in this country seemed to have finally become concerned that a doctor in training during his 29th straight hour of working (possibly on his 21st straight day of working) may not be the best equipped for patient care.  Duh.

So, they created new rules...which as far as I can tell (I admittedly, and thankfully, have no real reason to know the details of this...) say that you can't work those long overnight shifts and you need more time off.  Sounds great, right???  Well, I say yes and no...

I admit that there were days when I finished a long shift that I was trying to tank up on coffee just to ensure I could make the drive home---the hours preceding that may not have been my finest moments as a doctor.  I'm just guessing....can't really remember...also not a good sign.  But I will also attest to the fact that those nights on call...when I actually felt alone and independent (well, not totally alone...you can always phone a friend!) were without a doubt the most educational and integral in my development as a physician.  Being a resident is just like being a kid...eventually you have to be left alone and allowed to make your own decisions, or you'll never learn how to make good ones.  Although, yes, I'd rather have the resident starting his shift than the one finishing running to my bedside...I question what these changes will mean for the overall quality of resident education and fear that in the long run we may all suffer. 

Well, enough of those deep thoughts.  Flash forward to present time.  I've graduated residency and now, for me, being "on call" hardly can be called the same thing.  I'm on call about 5 times a  year.   I round on babies, do an extra morning of clinic and take some phone calls.  I sleep in my bed.  I have yet to be called in for an emergency of any kind.  Really, relatively painless.  I love my job and am so happy to have the experience of residency...behind me.  That said, if someone told me today that I had to repeat those 3 years, at this point in my life I'd have to meet that request with big thanks but NO THANKS. 

Now take the situation of my dear hubby, Shikhar.  He is in the second year of his cardiology fellowship and still taking call on a regular basis (though thankfully not on an every 4th night in the hospital kind of schedule).  In addition to this, he moonlights on a rehab unit, he is partial owner of an urgent care, helps his mom run her clinic and is in the process of purchasing another clinic with his buddy.  Oh yeah, and he also makes sure he's home most of every weekend and evening to spend time with me and the boys while managing the family finances.  He's kind of amazing.  He is by definition over-committed, but he usually makes it look so easy...

Well, not this weekend.  This call weekend started with him getting called in to the hospital for emergencies most of Friday evening and night.  He woke up early Saturday morning so he could go round on 29 patients...29!  He came home for a couple hours before getting called back in...then we didn't see the whites of his eyes (which were really more red...) until 8 am when he came home for a quick shower before returning to the hospital to do more rounds.

When he came home that morning this is what he found...

Yes.  Those are our children.  Fast asleep in our bed...no sheets.

Let me explain.  In addition to the ridiculous schedule Shikhar was keeping, we were operating in survival mode at home.  Poor Shaan has been on a 2 week string of illness including a 3-4 day tummy bug, an ear infection, and finally waking up Saturday morning with this...

For those of you who didn't get my photo clue, that's Hand Foot and Mouth.  Oh yeah and he's got 3 huge "tooth bubbles" in his mouth that just won't erupt.  I guess this explains why he was up every hour screaming on Friday night...and Saturday night.  Although both nights are pretty much a blur...I am able to piece together some of the events of Saturday night by using clues I found around the house. 

Here's the remnants of the banana and water Shaan had to have at 3 am after demanding we relocate from my bedroom to the living room.  Oh, and the flashlight I used to look in his mouth for sores...I'm a doctor, I can't help it. 

Here's the pear Sonu had to have at 5 am.  He woke up around 4 am hearing Shaan and I downstairs, joined us for a cartoon then finally headed back up to my bed as I put a (finally) sleeping Shaan down in his crib.  Once in my bed he was hungry, of course.  An hour later I was bringing that screaming baby back to bed with us...and that is how we got to the situation you see in that photo.

Oh...no sheets?  Yeah, at some point early in the evening Shaan peed the bed.  At least he's well hydrated...

Well...as I kept telling myself, this too will pass.  And it did.  Shikhar finally rolled home for good after noon on Sunday.  I made Falafel and then he and Shaanie both hit the bed for a much needed nap.  I got to spend some quality time with Sonu where he didn't need to compete for attention with a sick, clingy babe.  We ate dinner then hung out in the living room, everyone happy to be well-fed, (partially) rested, reunited as a family and off the clock.

So, the next time you imagine your cardiologist living the glam lifestyle...leaving the hospital to head for a golf outing in his Corvette or something, just know that he may just be going home to crawl in bed with a crazy preschooler, a sick bed wetter and a wife who hasn't showered for 2 days.  Even Superman has to play Clark Kent sometimes. 

April Showers...

So...it's been awhile since I've posted.  I could make a thousand excuses for this...changes at home, changes at work, crazy schedules, crazy children...but truthfully, I've just been tired.  More on that later...

But today was just the kind of day this lazy gal needed.  The skies were gray, the rain showers were torrential...but we were warm and dry, and very unproductive.  I'm not quite the recluse I probably come across as here, but I have to admit that I do love a day that (sort of) forces us stay in our jammies and just be alone together.  As the rain washed away our previously laid plans of a Dora the Explorer birthday party down the street and a night out with the neighbors...we enjoyed our own little fiesta at home.

The day began with a hearty breakfast and far more cartoon watching than my boys would normally get away with.  The rest of the day was spent playing games and being superheroes...as the boys took full advantage of the usual "pants optional" policy.

Somewhere amongst the events of the afternoon Sonu got the brilliant idea of putting on as many pairs of underwear as possible.  The next logical step...a "rain"dance on the windowsill.  Of course.

Make dinner?  Too much work.  Go out?  Too naked.  Pizza?  Perfect.
Our family fave pie topped with pepperoni, mushrooms and "ahlooves" (or, olives, to anyone but Sonu) provided just the warm, greasy, naughty deliciousness this day deserved.

As a side note, I'd like to mention that nearly all the furniture in my house is leather.  I'd like to say that this is because I love the way it looks and feels, and that I have an appreciation for fine home furnishings.  But really this is why...

It's washable.

Anyway, we spent the remainder of the evening chillin' out in the basement until it was time for the kiddos to hit the sack and time for me and daddy to watch a movie.    Mr. and Mrs. Smith.  I can see why those two couldn't help but get together...if nothing else just to see if they could combine their genetics in an effort to create the world's most attractive babies.  Good times. 

So, I guess maybe April showers aren't just for flowers anymore...but also for sleepy mommies looking for a good excuse to hibernate. 

Rested, rejuvinated...ready to rejoin the land of the living.