Wife Like Me

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I spent most of my day helping my mom with what is known by doctors everywhere as “the scramble” to get into a residency program.  My wonderful mother happened to be one of the people who didn’t “match” perfectly with a residency program on the first try, so she’s got about two days to figure out which of the residency programs in the country that still has slots open she wants to apply for, then apply for them, and then convince them that they want to take her.  Since she has three kids in high school next year and a husband who has a great job where they are now, it’s a little more complicated for her to move across the country than it is for most newly-graduated medical students, but it looks like that may be the plan. 

Anyway, between researching residency programs and neighborhoods, I pretty much watched my kids destroy our apartment.  There are toys and grapes and dirty diapers all over.  Dirty clothes, dirty dishes, dirty carpet, unmade bed.  But, the kids are safe and Degen used the toilet all by himself today with no prompting from me.  They did get their naps at the appropriate times and got to bed at a reasonable hour.  Thinking back to what I fed them today I’m absolutely sure that I would fail a “Did you feed your children a balanced diet?” test.  Once in a while a day like this is okay, I suppose.

It’s raining hard and loud outside, and there was a lightning strike that I saw at nearly exactly the same time as I hear the thunder roar.  I’m surprised that Degen didn’t wake up, run into the bedroom, and yell “SCARED MOMMY!” like he did this afternoon when he watched his old favorite Scooby Doo for probably the 50th time this year.  I’m not complaining, though.  Stay asleep, Degen.  All night. 

Tags: Family