This Tuesday marked our final Tuesday playdate. Tuesdays with all 4 cousins have regrettably come to an end because Kate will start Kindergarten next week. Due to Kate's daily Kindergarten class, Zachary's nap schedule, Matt's transportation and Ashley's activities the scheduling will just be too difficult to continue.
With that in mind, the 4 cousins got together for one final hurrah. We started the morning at Aunt Tonya's enormous playroom. Zach's eyes lit up with excitement over all the toys to play with. I really like the playroom because there is such a huge diversity in toys - from make believe and dress up, to leggos and manipulating toys, to cars and tea parties, from infant toys ranging all the up to oldr kid toys - there is something for everyone. It has been important to me to instill gender neutral or gender equality toys (not sure if that is the correct term I'm looking for) with Zach. I want Zach and Matt to be able to play with dolls and tea party as well as trucks. And Aunt Tonya's playroom allows for all of it.
Despite my ramblings on the benefits of a well-stocked playroom the day did start out a little rough. I could tell that all the kids were in a mood (a range of moods I should say). Certainly the kids are no longer guests at each other's homes and behave like family. Immediately Zach saw Ashley's juice and took it. With the mindset what's yours is mine (and what's mine is mine) inherent in toddlers. Ashley was obviously not finished drinking her juice and snatched it back. Just a minor example of how the day started and progressed.
On the one hand its satisfying to know that these kids know and love each other so much and have bonded over the last 6 months of constant playdates. But on the other hand a little break from the stress of 4 kids will certainly be a benefit to everyone.
We quickly got the kids outside and playing at the park. Each kid went their separate way to explore, climb and discover. The park was a lot of fun - as always. Kate was able to climb on the tallest structure and clearly lead the children in a pirate treasure game with Kate narrating the story and outcomes. Ashley also took on a leadership role (as the younger sister it has been nice to watch her grow into a leader with the boys). Ashley corraled the boys and kept them with the group as they moved through the equipment. Matt is still a consistent climber trying new ladders and steps. He is starting to join in with the group as well. Zach followed the big girls around even managing to climb on some of the more difficult equipment to catch up with Matt.
After a pretty hot and tiring play at the park the kids were in obvious need of lunch and cooling off. We headed to Carl's Jr. for chicken stars for the kids. They ate in shifts (remind anyone of the Army mess hall?) since the table was to small to accomodate 4 kids and 2 adults. Tonya and I took turns feeding and cleaning the kids. Its amazing get 2 moms together and 4 kids in need and it doesn't matter which kids belong to which parent, equality in work distribution prevails.
Carls Jr. also houses a large play structure with climbing stairs some crawl tubes and slides. After a few minutes I realized Zach was gone and I hadn't seen him in a bit. Usually he hangs down at the lowest couple of stairs calling to the kids or trying to climb the wrong way up the slide. But Zach was no where to be found. He had managed to climb to the top by himself with some guidance from Ashley and crawl through all the tubes to the slide. As I watched he went down the slide with Kate! Thank goodness because there was no way I could crawl to the top to retrieve a toddler. Zach was so full of pride he did it again and again! Matt of course was on a singular mission - to climb up and go down the stairs 100 times in 30 minutes. That kid sure is focused and I bet you he accomplished his mission and then some. Sounds like his parents, eh?
We rounded up tired and cranky kids and took them to Aunt Shannon's in preparation of Grandpa Frank's arrival and pick-up. The day quickly went south. Everyone was tired (parents included). Zach fell asleep in the carseat and promptly went to the crib. Matt quickly fell asleep on the couch. Kate had a pretty severe headache and after a long nap ended up doing much better.
While not a huge blowout farewell to Tuesdays, it was a nice quiet ending to our arrangement. Now we'll have to figure something else out until Matt's parent come home! Just a few more weeks to go... Countdown anyone?
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Your prayers, please
Today I write to ask for your thoughts and prayers as one of my beloved "old" patients from the DC area goes to surgery. She is a 3.5 year old little girl with a rare heart disorder, and she has been living at Children's Hospital of Philadelphia for the past ~ 6 months waiting on a heart transplant. I just received word that the "perfect" heart has become available, and she will be in surgery for the next half-day or so. Her family is the most amazing, dedicated, loving family I have ever seen ... in fact, pasted below is an email I wrote to them as I travelled across the country to my new duty station last summer - you can see the level of respect I have for them from the email. They have been incredibly influential in my life, and now I ask that everyone reading this blog take a moment to think about the little girl with the weak heart and her family who has sacrificed so much to get her where she is today.
Her mother and father have blogs - they are highly recommended and will reveal the strength of this wonderful family!
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Here's my email from Summer 2008 to the family:
I meant to make that "first name" deal with you when I saw you this week, but with all the craziness, it slipped my mind. But it's definitely a deal! Now that I'm officially not the kids' pediatrician anymore, I think dropping the formality is completely appropriate. :) I might have a little difficulty with it at first, and in fact had some hesitancy in writing your names at the beginning of this email, but ..... I'm getting more and more used to it by the second!!!
It seems to me that at the culmination of my residency at Walter Reed, there have been a lot of people outlining what "I've" done for "them". In many different arenas, this one-sided view of the tour has been apparent: my residency director introducing me with my (limited) residency accomplishments at the end-of-the-year party, other patients coming into clinic and telling me how their kids have changed (mostly in a good way!) since I've been their doctor, my mentor discussing personal milestones in my final counseling. But what seems to have been forgotten in large part is how "everyone" has helped "me", how my colleagues, patients, and friends have changed MY life and made me a better person, pediatrician, and mother. This email seeks to remedy this deficiency.
I came into residency three years ago not really knowing which way was up. (Seriously!) And that first intern year didn't help much, either. It was exhausting, annoying, and taxing from a personal, emotional, professional, and medical standpoint. You knew me during that trying time (at least after Lauren was born in January), and you probably saw right through some of my attempts to understand Lauren's condition (which was clearly over my head). What I remember of you during that academic year was a family of amazing strength and resilience, two parents who were willing to sacrifice anything for their children, one little girl who just refused to give up, and two siblings who selflessly gave up many of their own wants and desires when their sister was sick.
My admiration for the family grew during my second academic year, when two important things happened: one, I spent a morning hanging out with the kids at your home, and, second, Lauren tried really hard to die. The "morning at your house" was revealing because it gave me a glimpse into the challenges of your home life (and just how busy it could be). Lauren's septic shock episode taught me what the role of the general pediatrician should be in cases when critically ill patients are transferred to another hospital. You may not have seen it on my face at the time, but I was totally winging it that evening and the remainder of the week. I didn't know what I was supposed to do as Lauren had no blood pressure and was getting loaded up in the ambulance for Children's. I knew that she would be well-cared-for by the medical personnel onboard, but I also realized that you two - as usual - were thinking of and worrying about her without regard to your own needs. Thus, the McDonald's, complete with a regular coke. :) My goal was just to be there for you that night - for translation, for kleenex, for sustenance, for whatever - and for one of the first times in my residency, my instinct and emotion rather than my medical knowledge was the driving factor.
By the time my third year rolled around, I knew that you were a very, very special family. As my own child came into the world, I began to understand the challenges that you always so gracefully negotiated as parents. From you, I learned about asking for help when a child's behavior has become unmanageable, and just how hard asking for help can be. I learned firsthand about the emotional turmoil of pregnancy and childbirth, and tried to put myself in your shoes to understand how you felt when Lauren was born so sick after an essentially uncomplicated pregnancy. I learned about how a husband and wife's relationship changes with the addition of a little one to the family, and you taught me to roll with the punches, laugh a lot, smile a lot, and focus on the positive as far as my marriage was concerned. There has been a lot that YOU have given ME in the last year.
I didn't realize - truly - what an effect your family has had on my life and my training until the Defining Moments presentation a few months back at your church. I was thrilled, elated, jubilant to be there for such a special and meaningful event! I'm sure you couldn't see me in the audience while you were presenting, but I was pretty much bawling. I was so proud of you for telling Lauren's story in the way that you did and so happy to have had the privilege of working with such an amazingly strong family. (PS My mom was crying too, and she absolutely loved the performance as wel!) It was at "Defining Moments" that I realized that while Lauren's birth was a defining moment in your life, it was really a defining moment in my life as well. More appropriately, perhaps I could describe the five of you as "Defining People" in my life - people who have made me stronger, better, and more loving in some big or small way, and people who will remain in my memories forever and ever.
I haven't been too sad to leave Walter Reed. It's been a tough three-year tour for lots of reasons. But as I drove home from work for the last time, I finally became a bit nostalgic. No, I wasn't sad to leave the 80-hour work weeks. No, I wasn't sad to leave the greasy cafeteria food. I wasn't sad to leave the politics of Walter Reed medicine. No, I wasn't even sad to leave the uncomfortable call room mattresses. :) But I WAS sad to know that I would be leaving some wonderful patients and families who have influenced me in ways that I could not have imagined three years ago. Your family is #1 on the influential list!
So - thank you. Thank you for the superior example you have set for my own parenting and my own family. Thank you for not noticing (or at least not letting on that you noticed) my cluelessness during that first intern year, and also during that night that Lauren went to Children's. Thank you for teaching me to ask for help when its necessary, and for asking all of the "hard" questions - you have really made me think! Thank you for showing me that even with three kids, horrible parking, a feeding tube backpack, and some serious temper tantrums, a single parent CAN be on time (or early) for every single appointment and CAN have a smile on his/her face. And finally, thank you for the wonderful book you gave me last week; it will remain in my office until I am too old and gray to have a practice anymore, as a reminder of why I am in this field and why I love taking care of kids and their families. Thank you, thank you, thank you for everything!
I will think of you often during my tour at Fort Bliss. I can only hope that we can keep in touch - by email, phone, carrier pigeon, or otherwise - and continue to build the friendship that commenced that moment in January 2006.
I meant to make that "first name" deal with you when I saw you this week, but with all the craziness, it slipped my mind. But it's definitely a deal! Now that I'm officially not the kids' pediatrician anymore, I think dropping the formality is completely appropriate. :) I might have a little difficulty with it at first, and in fact had some hesitancy in writing your names at the beginning of this email, but ..... I'm getting more and more used to it by the second!!!
It seems to me that at the culmination of my residency at Walter Reed, there have been a lot of people outlining what "I've" done for "them". In many different arenas, this one-sided view of the tour has been apparent: my residency director introducing me with my (limited) residency accomplishments at the end-of-the-year party, other patients coming into clinic and telling me how their kids have changed (mostly in a good way!) since I've been their doctor, my mentor discussing personal milestones in my final counseling. But what seems to have been forgotten in large part is how "everyone" has helped "me", how my colleagues, patients, and friends have changed MY life and made me a better person, pediatrician, and mother. This email seeks to remedy this deficiency.
I came into residency three years ago not really knowing which way was up. (Seriously!) And that first intern year didn't help much, either. It was exhausting, annoying, and taxing from a personal, emotional, professional, and medical standpoint. You knew me during that trying time (at least after Lauren was born in January), and you probably saw right through some of my attempts to understand Lauren's condition (which was clearly over my head). What I remember of you during that academic year was a family of amazing strength and resilience, two parents who were willing to sacrifice anything for their children, one little girl who just refused to give up, and two siblings who selflessly gave up many of their own wants and desires when their sister was sick.
My admiration for the family grew during my second academic year, when two important things happened: one, I spent a morning hanging out with the kids at your home, and, second, Lauren tried really hard to die. The "morning at your house" was revealing because it gave me a glimpse into the challenges of your home life (and just how busy it could be). Lauren's septic shock episode taught me what the role of the general pediatrician should be in cases when critically ill patients are transferred to another hospital. You may not have seen it on my face at the time, but I was totally winging it that evening and the remainder of the week. I didn't know what I was supposed to do as Lauren had no blood pressure and was getting loaded up in the ambulance for Children's. I knew that she would be well-cared-for by the medical personnel onboard, but I also realized that you two - as usual - were thinking of and worrying about her without regard to your own needs. Thus, the McDonald's, complete with a regular coke. :) My goal was just to be there for you that night - for translation, for kleenex, for sustenance, for whatever - and for one of the first times in my residency, my instinct and emotion rather than my medical knowledge was the driving factor.
By the time my third year rolled around, I knew that you were a very, very special family. As my own child came into the world, I began to understand the challenges that you always so gracefully negotiated as parents. From you, I learned about asking for help when a child's behavior has become unmanageable, and just how hard asking for help can be. I learned firsthand about the emotional turmoil of pregnancy and childbirth, and tried to put myself in your shoes to understand how you felt when Lauren was born so sick after an essentially uncomplicated pregnancy. I learned about how a husband and wife's relationship changes with the addition of a little one to the family, and you taught me to roll with the punches, laugh a lot, smile a lot, and focus on the positive as far as my marriage was concerned. There has been a lot that YOU have given ME in the last year.
I didn't realize - truly - what an effect your family has had on my life and my training until the Defining Moments presentation a few months back at your church. I was thrilled, elated, jubilant to be there for such a special and meaningful event! I'm sure you couldn't see me in the audience while you were presenting, but I was pretty much bawling. I was so proud of you for telling Lauren's story in the way that you did and so happy to have had the privilege of working with such an amazingly strong family. (PS My mom was crying too, and she absolutely loved the performance as wel!) It was at "Defining Moments" that I realized that while Lauren's birth was a defining moment in your life, it was really a defining moment in my life as well. More appropriately, perhaps I could describe the five of you as "Defining People" in my life - people who have made me stronger, better, and more loving in some big or small way, and people who will remain in my memories forever and ever.
I haven't been too sad to leave Walter Reed. It's been a tough three-year tour for lots of reasons. But as I drove home from work for the last time, I finally became a bit nostalgic. No, I wasn't sad to leave the 80-hour work weeks. No, I wasn't sad to leave the greasy cafeteria food. I wasn't sad to leave the politics of Walter Reed medicine. No, I wasn't even sad to leave the uncomfortable call room mattresses. :) But I WAS sad to know that I would be leaving some wonderful patients and families who have influenced me in ways that I could not have imagined three years ago. Your family is #1 on the influential list!
So - thank you. Thank you for the superior example you have set for my own parenting and my own family. Thank you for not noticing (or at least not letting on that you noticed) my cluelessness during that first intern year, and also during that night that Lauren went to Children's. Thank you for teaching me to ask for help when its necessary, and for asking all of the "hard" questions - you have really made me think! Thank you for showing me that even with three kids, horrible parking, a feeding tube backpack, and some serious temper tantrums, a single parent CAN be on time (or early) for every single appointment and CAN have a smile on his/her face. And finally, thank you for the wonderful book you gave me last week; it will remain in my office until I am too old and gray to have a practice anymore, as a reminder of why I am in this field and why I love taking care of kids and their families. Thank you, thank you, thank you for everything!
I will think of you often during my tour at Fort Bliss. I can only hope that we can keep in touch - by email, phone, carrier pigeon, or otherwise - and continue to build the friendship that commenced that moment in January 2006.
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