tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-155839522012-02-24T18:45:27.511-05:00As in, "That's <em>Doctor</em> Mama to you, young man!&quot;DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.comBlogger2351100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-71147626113475012112012-01-26T12:40:00.000-05:002012-01-26T12:40:13.317-05:00

I’d have been a bit, um, stricter in tone and instructions, but this is very timely, given what I said in the comments yesterday. How Sitting All Day Is Damaging Your Body

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-17482231393355166812012-01-23T12:25:00.000-05:002012-01-23T12:25:33.934-05:00

Full article here.

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-82793904040923767242012-01-02T10:31:00.000-05:002012-01-02T10:31:05.554-05:00

Get me started on posting again, and I can’t seem to stop, sorry! Actually, I have been saving up this post since last spring, and it’s another email post, so it sort of autofilled. It’s about something that absolutely delighted me and made me even more aware of the value of not hanging on to anger. First, check out this post by Anne Nahm (and her link to her earlier post) for a beautiful

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-80327840641927528352011-12-29T16:30:00.000-05:002011-12-29T16:30:15.726-05:00

TH has been successfully avoiding tilting at Nana windmills. We did not go there for Thanksgiving – we simply said that we were working and that we hoped that they would be able to come here again sometime soon. That engendered only a small drama. And here is this year’s Hanukkah email exchange:From: NanaDate: December 13, 2011 9:45:54 AMTo: TrophyHusband Presents have been sent and will be

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-36188763105618707822011-12-12T11:58:00.000-05:002011-12-12T11:58:05.013-05:00

@font-face { font-family: "Cambria"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 10pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; } This is the first day in months and months and months that I have nothing on my desk that was due yesterday. (Plenty that needs doing, just nothing horribly overdue.)So, work catch-up time? Screw that.

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-78508481261875906492011-08-25T15:46:00.000-04:002011-08-25T15:46:43.103-04:00

As I mentioned before, one of my best friends, Christina Shea, just published her second novel, a work that you – my readers – helped bring to fruition. And as promised, here is my interview with the author. I came to blogging via the infertility community; Christina is a fellow IVF veteran as well as an adoptive mother (she has a balanced translocation, the same problem that Julia faced).

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-38202035215852960162011-07-29T12:03:00.000-04:002011-07-29T12:03:12.040-04:00

Big Changes are afoot in my professional life, and they are sucking up all of my time. Not a move but a major redirection, and I’ve been struggling with a) do I want this opportunity (that was a big yes) and b) how do I make it happen without disappointing too many people and killing myself in the transition (that was a big HAHAHA, good luck with that!). I have a couple of balls in the air here

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-71115605389977522232011-07-14T10:50:00.000-04:002011-07-14T10:50:18.908-04:00

@font-face { font-family: "Cambria"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 10pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; } More than two years ago, one of my dearest friends was at a critical point in the writing of her second novel: she needed readers to critique it. Do I have some articulate readers for you! I said. I put

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-16596580201021568732011-06-14T10:08:00.037-04:002011-06-28T10:23:34.455-04:00

I recruited two! fresh maggots just yesterday (don’t let me down, J and S, and to S in particular: SLOW DOWN), and that and Kylie and procrastination have inspired me to open the floor for your running questions. I’ll take them from the comments and put them up here. Ask away. Q: I’ve been running the same 5k distance for several years now, about 3 times a week. It takes me 30 minutes. I have

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com41tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-73899281099141359912011-06-13T11:48:00.000-04:002011-06-13T11:48:57.428-04:00

(Started to put the following in the comments after Jess’s, but it got too long.) Part of the reason I doubt I’ll ever give up this blog – despite a common view that FaceBook punctured the blogosphere (which I don’t think is true; it mainly pulled out the non-anonymous folks, though it did decrease blog comments, maybe because blog commenting is harder) – is how much I learn and grow from it,

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-49493358996022341732011-06-10T10:15:00.000-04:002011-06-10T10:15:23.875-04:00

Cool discussion below from Jess and Kate, slightly edited for length: Jess said: I know that she’s inappropriate in many ways. And yet ... I’m really uncomfortable gathering round to marvel at her outfit’s inappropriateness. Something about that feels really wrong to me. I said: I’m guessing you don’t like the Glamour “Don’t” section! I think I can see where you’re coming from, but it doesn’t

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-59745395092595147362011-06-06T09:07:00.000-04:002011-06-06T09:07:18.329-04:00

The outfit for HB's seventh. I gotta admit, for 65-ish, she rocks it. (What am I saying? For almost any age, she rocks it. Appropriately or not.)

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-30894503174820316592011-05-31T11:24:00.000-04:002011-05-31T11:24:15.816-04:00

[Nanaphiles, take heart: soon I will describe my delicately finessed cease-fire.] TH and I celebrated our tenth anniversary. Also, a new college class report arrived. This is what I had to say about those anniversaries five years ago. In another post back then I mentioned the most appalling entry of all in the last report. I quoted (again, this is NOT ME): [2006] I'm in a very happy marriage to

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-84740157223184916022011-04-15T11:19:00.034-04:002011-04-16T16:02:55.350-04:00

How did I not notice this? I HAVE GONE SILVER. Or white. Or gray. Or something really old-sounding. When I look in the mirror, to me it looks more or less the way it has for the past five years or so — that is, light brown faded to dishwater blond in front, white streak across the crown, medium brown in back with a few highlights thrown in to minimize the Belted Galloway look. But I came back

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com37tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-40692417848864889942011-02-23T11:16:00.000-05:002011-02-23T11:16:40.194-05:00

Running Do you have any idea how often I have to remind myself to take my own advice? Confession: this winter I am barely hanging on to my running. Happens every winter, but worse this one. I don’t like cold, but even more I don’t like dark, and a lot of my running has to be in the dark in the winter. Then I usually get a chest cold or two, plus somehow my back ends up getting hurt during the

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-91131045940645354592011-02-07T10:33:00.000-05:002011-02-07T10:33:16.090-05:00

Why, why do I not ask you all for advice more often? You are so wise. Jul hit it when she said: “So WHY did I waste all that time trying to make you feel secure, you little s__?” Because yes, my distress really is all about me and wanting to believe that none of my sacrifices have been for naught. Even though OF COURSE THEY HAVE. Most of them, anyway. And I instantly recognized that Law’s

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-8553528277577901212011-01-29T13:33:00.000-05:002011-01-29T13:33:17.469-05:00

HB said something to me last night that creeped me out so much I couldn’t fall asleep for a couple of hours. We were cuddling before he went to sleep and he said, “Sometimes I wonder if you and Daddy are actually evil and will kill me.” After I regained my speaking ability and tried to say the appropriate reassuring things, he said, “Yes, but … there’s a chance you could be lying to me right now.

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-23799737124106309012011-01-02T16:26:00.000-05:002011-01-02T16:26:12.250-05:00

I’m betting at least a few of you have been directed here because you made a New Year’s resolution to start running. So: Looking for inspiration? Read this post and the comments following it. Looking for how to get started? Look here, and then at the other “Running” posts down on the right sidebar. And then send some encouragement in the direction of Loretta, a once and future Maggot. You may

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-71947101102234057842010-11-16T12:14:00.000-05:002010-11-16T12:14:22.589-05:00

I am gloating over a major conquest. Jo has joined the Maggot Corps: I’m running because if I don’t get outside and move fast down the street and through the trees, under the sky and in the rain or the cold or the sun, my animal self will be lost. And that’s the part of the brain, paradoxically, that keeps you sane.Creating runners is one of the greatest joys of my life. The knowledge that there

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-414350382183242512010-10-23T11:48:00.006-04:002010-10-23T18:18:17.815-04:00

I got in the cab (wearing a ridiculous outfit—I was traveling home and these were the leftover clean clothes) and chirped “Good morning! How are you?” “Well, I don’t know,” said the driver slightly warily. “How are you?” “Great!” I said. Then I used a line I’ve never used before that I’ve heard some of my favorite patients say: “Every morning you wake up is a great day.” “You got that right!”

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-75207209263886890622010-10-02T18:39:00.000-04:002010-10-02T18:39:50.578-04:00

TH took HB camping for the night. HB prepared for this by donning a shirt and tie and packing his knitting. Originally I had planned for some wilding on my part, but ... A few months ago I put in this last-minute grant proposal? That I was not at all hopeful about? That I pretty much only did because my boss told me to? I’m now the Program Director/Principal Investigator of an educational

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-17689475721007622342010-09-14T13:08:00.000-04:002010-09-14T13:08:49.459-04:00

One of the most popular searches that bring people to my site continues to be “boys who wear tights” or some variation thereof. I’m really hoping that this represents parents who are looking to gain insight into or support for their oddly attired sons, rather than … well, I don’t even want to go there. HB hasn’t been wearing tights as much lately, but he continues to make gender-ambiguous

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com41tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-16267457237695051392010-07-20T11:55:00.001-04:002010-07-20T11:56:14.788-04:00

I think I can now say, six months in, that my new outlook is pretty robust. I recently went through a rough on-call three-day weekend, followed by a grant writing session that was like having ten term papers due all at once, and although I had some unpleasant moments/hours, it did not affect my overall sense of wellbeing. One episode did rock my boat: I thoughtlessly embarrassed a student in

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-76732162676009203852010-07-08T16:12:00.000-04:002010-07-08T16:12:32.501-04:00

Things are fine around these parts, just really really really busy. Good news: I just got a nice raise, and I finally paid off my medical school loans—13 years and somewhere in the neighborhood of $200,000 later. It would have taken me more than 20 years, but every time I’ve gotten a little extra money—bonuses, tax returns—I’ve thrown it at my loans. This made me start thinking about where our

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-51125445555256651252010-06-07T10:38:00.001-04:002010-06-07T11:10:08.430-04:00

She behaved herself. She wore capris and a black top. She said nothing untoward, forward, or bloggable. I am so disappointed. As a consolation prize, here is a picture of HB in fresh nail polish, working at his new job: (He rides with Mr. Softee almost every day. And dips the cones.)

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-49190677637495235112010-05-31T13:29:00.001-04:002010-06-11T12:43:15.049-04:00

... and then they turn into flies. Boy, do I love a good hot-weather run. Muscles loose, no extra clothing, the amazed stares of neighbors as I return beet-faced and trailing a rivulet of sweat up the street ... It’s going to get hot, and you are going to run, maggots. Run early if you can; go even slower than you originally thought possible; drink before you go, but not so much that you get

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-76599550615349590072010-05-24T13:20:00.000-04:002010-05-24T13:20:20.601-04:00

This is getting a little too fun for me, I think. Oh well. In case anyone thinks I exaggerate, this is what Nana wore to HB's birthday last year: Two more weeks until this year's revealing getup is revealed. (She is now emailing both me and TH as if nothing ever happened, lalalala.)

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-60437010965779404772010-05-22T15:54:00.001-04:002010-05-22T15:56:12.901-04:00

Just for those who are mildly entertained by the saga: an email I got yesterday ... From: Nana To: DoctorMama Subject: Hi! Date: May 21, 2010 1:56:51 PM DoctorMama! It's been awhile and we are so looking forward to seeing HB and joining in the birthday celebrations :) The invitation was adorable, of course.... I have a lovely blue spatula that I took by mistake in December and I LOVE IT! Where

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-5377190151486708142010-05-19T08:46:00.000-04:002010-05-19T08:46:23.850-04:00

A few commenters have wondered about a) how TH grew up to be not particularly crazy and b) what he thinks about my being happy. I thought about interviewing him about this. Then I realized that the interview would go something like the following: DM: How did you grow up to be so awesome and relatively normal despite your batshit crazy mother? TH: I’m awesome? I’m relatively normal? My mom is

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-33212236367308072752010-05-14T12:00:00.002-04:002010-05-14T12:01:53.099-04:00

First, as OMDG noted after my last post, b***jobs was not a reference to boob jobs. (I wouldn’t asterisk out that, for one thing.) It was the other kind of b***jobs Nana was discussing. (And did I mention that the underwear she flashes are Armani thongs?) So of course mere hours after my last post, TH received the following: From: Nana Date: May 13, 2010 To: TH Subject: HB I was quite

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-33218560721825460932010-05-13T10:05:00.000-04:002010-05-13T10:05:24.688-04:00

It’s looking like there will be no big drama … which is good for HB, but not as fun for blogging purposes. There was silence, then TH sent Nana a Mother’s Day card (okay, I handed it to him and made him fill it out), and then TH accidentally dialed Baba (his stepfather) instead of his brother and Baba was pleasant, and yesterday we got an anniversary card filled out by Nana that made no mention

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-21452250267082929782010-05-03T21:56:00.006-04:002010-05-04T06:13:32.302-04:00

So that phrase was haunting me: This is your one life. TH was having some struggles at work, and I said it to him. “Um, you already said that the other day,” he answered, which made me think, hmm, maybe I mean this is MY one life. That had always been a chilling thought for me, but for some reason it started to feel empowering instead. Not this is my life, not this is my life: this is my life.

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-41383322514576729152010-04-27T09:00:00.011-04:002010-04-27T18:12:17.931-04:00

I don’t think that enjoying the Nana saga is weird at all. Hell, I’m waiting for updates. (Thus far, still silence. And we’re all more peaceful for it. It’s so much simpler once you stop rationalizing, isn’t it?) I’ll let you know as developments occur. But right now I’m going to try to articulate what I hinted at in my prior post: the Big Changes in my outlook on life. I am in a good place,

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-4123609484415079202010-04-18T20:01:00.001-04:002010-04-19T06:43:58.333-04:00

Looks like TH is going to have to gird himself for battle. Gah! Will let you know how it goes.From: NanaDate: April 15, 2010To: TrophyHusbandSubject: HB's b'dayHi TH:We can do whatever you're comfortable with that birthday weekend. We can also pay for our own room! It's not possible for us to visit before then? Baba hasn't seen HB since November and I since Dec. I'm feeling that you/HB/DM

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-3396701098175128322010-04-10T16:59:00.002-04:002010-04-10T17:04:33.234-04:00

A friend of mine with two kids around HB’s age just spent four days in the hospital because she had developed an odd neurological symptom. Yesterday they told her she has multiple sclerosis and did a spinal tap. This morning they discharged her. Do you know what she did this afternoon? She went RUNNING, Maggots. Now if that doesn’t get you off your asses, I don’t know what can.

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-45443741067422858822010-03-23T06:18:00.004-04:002010-04-09T11:46:15.208-04:00

Update: TH is reading all of your comments with interest and gratitude. They are surprisingly (to me) consistent. You are right: it is easier to deal with the whole thing if we keep our eyes on the prize, i.e., what is best for HB — and clearly protecting him is best. Also that you can’t argue with a crazy person. (And to be very clear: we are not in the least interested in any money or

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com49tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-23916019541578541492010-03-22T06:55:00.002-04:002010-03-22T07:01:41.078-04:00

The excuse: the last little while has been crazy with nonstop work (including rounding and taking 24 hour calls this past weekend and 2 big deadlines last Friday), so not much blogging activity going on. But I am going on vacation on Friday (Mexico!), and will take my laptop (for fun ONLY, work will be ignored).The previews:1. TrophyHusband wants your advice on how to tell his mother we are not

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-86467267253490518062010-03-12T10:22:00.003-05:002011-05-31T11:30:33.232-04:00

I have a pretty crappy track record when it comes to choosing men. (First off, I have mostly let them choose me, and there’s an error in judgment right there.) I think I’m a decent life coach in a lot of ways, but if you bring your relationship questions to me, the best I can usually do is ask a few clarifying questions and then say, yeah, been there—sucks, doesn’t it? (I may be being a little

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-80059045994747178852010-03-06T08:10:00.002-05:002010-03-06T08:24:26.726-05:00

I have a friend whose father, a really smart, successful, funny guy, was also kind of an asshole. He was arrogant, negative, selfish, and prone to anger. Then, at the age of 50 or so, he went to see the movie Groundhog Day, and suddenly decided that he was going to be a different person. And he was. From that day onward, every time he had one of his old negative impulses, he would think “

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-32986580705975799212010-01-31T18:30:00.008-05:002010-01-31T19:01:27.400-05:00

I’m quite pleased that so many of you are still out there running while the winds of winter snatch at your snatches*. However. Unless you are running between the hours of, say, 8am and 4pm, you should know that if you are not properly attired, NO ONE CAN SEE YOU, MAGGOTS. A couple of weeks ago, I made a nice, legal, slow turn onto my block, only to have to slam on my brakes for a jayrunner

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-26150549924525770082009-12-28T16:11:00.002-05:002009-12-28T16:27:27.805-05:00

I’m not sure if anyone else will find this as funny as I do, but this is the Christmas email my mother received from her sister. My aunt has always tended to be a little bit … critical, and age has not mellowed her. NOTE: THIS IS NOT ME. THIS IS A QUOTE. TAKE ME OUT BACK AND DO SOMETHING VIOLENT TO ME IF I EVER START SOUNDING LIKE THIS.From: bitchyaunt@comcast.netDate: December 27, 2009 10:12:

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-80926975132841815862009-11-29T12:27:00.010-05:002009-11-29T15:21:44.204-05:00

How to Sleep Better Without Pills This is by request. A disclaimer: I don’t think there’s anything wrong with taking over-the-counter sleep aids. Heck, I used to take Benadryl every day as a child during allergy season; it’s not like taking Seconal or something. And drinking alcohol before bed is much worse on your sleep patterns than these kinds of medications. However, there are some

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-35681121910379862962009-10-16T11:50:00.006-04:002009-10-16T12:51:04.808-04:00

I’ve been neglecting you. To make up for it, I’ve prepared a real treat for you: a whole bunch of helpful hints and ingenious solutions to problems you didn’t even know you had. If I could patent these, I would, but since I can’t, you’re getting them for free. You’re welcome. How to Stop Sleeping on Your StomachThose of us who stomach sleep tend to get cricks in our necks and sore lower

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-1594726418800639062009-08-24T09:58:00.007-04:002009-09-14T11:31:55.322-04:00

I have a rule of thumb for injuries/pain and running. To wit: if running doesn’t make something worse, go ahead and run. I am at baseline a sore person (not a sorehead; it’s hard to offend me). At any given moment, at least two things will be hurting. Doing a rapid inventory right now, I’ve got: right acromioclavicular joint, low back, right elbow. Depending on the day, it can be my head, neck,

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com53tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-68629797707697848002009-07-26T15:52:00.003-04:002009-07-26T16:22:51.245-04:00

Elle, a new Emergency Medicine resident, recently asked me the following:Please, can you tell me any advice to continue running during residency?First, you have NO IDEA how much running helps when you’re a resident. It’s probably more beneficial for a resident, mile per mile, than almost anyone else. So you really have to. What you’ll have to give up on is rigid consistency. Get three runs in per

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-48461461318948509372009-07-16T10:53:00.008-04:002009-07-16T12:38:25.100-04:00

What, really, is the point of having a sibling?The other day I got a question I hadn’t heard in awhile: “Are you related to [semi-famous actress with the same slightly unusual last name as me]?” It’s a question I used to get a lot, back when she was popping up fairly regularly in well-known movies. Now she mostly does supporting work on TV, as happens to depressingly many actresses who get a

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com40tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-77422699927911318582009-06-30T21:15:00.003-04:002009-07-01T21:20:10.854-04:00

When is one too old to run in just a jogging bra and shorts?A. If you have to ask, you're probably too old.B. Never! Rock on, Grandma.C. Depends on what you're rocking.D. As long as Madonna is still wearing a bustier.

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-77338764936926885982009-06-21T12:47:00.004-04:002009-06-24T06:23:45.379-04:00

I have a really good idea on how to make the world a better place: pass a law that car horns can only do a little short beep like the beep some cars do when they get locked. The only meaning of the long “BWAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!” is to say to another driver, “You’re a fucking idiot!” To which the response is almost invariably “BWAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! No, YOU’RE the idiot!”Which does not seem to serve any

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-88557921717628679042009-05-11T10:53:00.007-04:002009-05-14T12:54:15.080-04:00

HB will be turning five soon.This is the place where every other parent on the planet adds, How did that happen? They say it goes fast, but it seems like just yesterday he was [born / playing peek-a-boo / taking his first steps / add your own heartwarming milestone here]!I said to TH around the time HB turned four, “Do you understand what people are talking about when they say it goes fast?”“

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-5435418507031915772009-04-30T11:00:00.008-04:002009-05-02T10:04:55.752-04:00

Who knew that men’s legwear was such an organized movement? Not I, for one. The pro-men’s legwear contingent will be happy to hear that we gave a pair of tights to another boy in the class. (We asked permission first because we weren’t sure how traditional this kid’s parents might be.)The whole discussion about gender “appropriate” clothing made me think about what goes on in our family; what

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-10120632147071627092009-04-23T12:32:00.002-04:002009-04-23T12:34:40.542-04:00

Here are the questions I think you need to answer before dropping any serious change down on a jogging stroller:Do you really need one? If you aren’t planning on logging serious hours on it, it may not be worth it. You can get usually get away with using one of those hybrid-type strollers. A lot of people also have a jogging stroller gathering dust in their basement—maybe you can borrow?Will it

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-68697537871898911512009-04-20T11:44:00.006-04:002009-04-24T10:10:12.204-04:00

A surprising (to me) number of people land on my website from the above queries, so I thought I’d make it easier by putting the answers to them right up there in the title. To expand:Re: tights on boys. It makes me a little sad that anyone would feel the need to question this. Yes, my son wears colorful tights. This usually delights people, perhaps as seeing a court jester might. He is

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com37tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-71349702672966842782009-04-09T11:32:00.002-04:002009-04-09T11:36:37.752-04:00

Just got back from Mexico, which was lovely, though the trip was a tad short because CERTAIN PEOPLE need to have their Saturdays free so as to take part in bike races. I shouldn’t complain, though, because I am probably the worst packer on earth and it took me almost the entire day Saturday to do it. Seriously, I’m outrageously bad at packing. I once left home on a long car trip and remembered

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-85861009646926886432009-03-19T12:57:00.003-04:002009-03-19T13:03:27.517-04:00

Owen.8 pounds 3 ounces, 22 inches, 22 hours labor, 1 c-section.He's delectable.She's delirious with that special combination of joy and I-thought-this-level-of-sleep-deprivation-was-fatal-but-I-guess-it-isn't-because-I'm-still-here-or-am-I?-ness.Congratulations!!!!

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-5085704238521274092009-03-11T11:02:00.002-04:002009-03-11T11:06:15.046-04:00

Well then. I think we have pretty clearly established that a LOT of you have slacked off in the winter months (Southern hemisphere readers excepted; bookmark this page and save my yelling at you for September). Since I failed at motivating you in the cold, I must lecture you about not getting all uppity in the warmth. Now that it’s light out in the evening, and balmy (or at least non-frigid)

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-21936698125288890262009-03-08T12:17:00.005-04:002009-03-09T07:32:04.501-04:00

There’s something I want to get off my chest, at the risk of offending some. It’s this: I really don’t like reading blog entries (or Facebook updates) about people being sick. Wait wait wait—I don’t mean terrible illnesses, or hilarious entries about horrendous plagues that necessitate HazMat cleanups, or updates on, say, surgical procedures that others are concerned about. I mean the “I have a

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-85114227310579188122009-02-23T11:07:00.008-05:002009-02-23T11:39:35.325-05:00

First, about your comments on the previous post: I was highly amused but not surprised at the unwillingness of most of you to follow the instructions re: only one piece of advice. It’s good stuff, though. Pretty much all of it mirrors my discoveries, and are things I wish I’d known earlier.Just a few of my favorites (and I have many):Ice diapers (genius!) (Darwin wanted to know if a maxi pad

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-74854342918337284962009-02-13T11:23:00.006-05:002009-02-26T12:50:49.982-05:00

One of my best friends—let’s call her Darwin—is due to give birth to her first child (a son) in a couple of weeks. This pregnancy was the result of years of trying, a journey that featured an ugly ectopic and expensive IVF. Her mother, who is nutty but usually endearing (I’ve known her since I was about 12), decided that the birth of her only grandchild could not compete with an offer to travel

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com102tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-70887542204793422832009-01-16T13:52:00.004-05:002009-01-25T14:06:55.264-05:00

One little cold snap, and you maggots all take cover? OK, maybe a few of you are on a treadmill in a warm gym somewhere, but I know there are a lot of you sitting in front of the computer eating cookies and whining about the cold.Get your mewling asses out there. If little old ladies could wait for hours in the cold for the inauguration, you can bundle up and run for 30 freaking minutes.After all

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-21586138102688231312009-01-16T13:36:00.005-05:002009-01-16T13:56:05.517-05:00

How about some more “kids say the darndest things,” since it won me an award last time?HB, bringing me the doll he calls his “little sister”: Criss-cross applesauce, sit down on the floor and close your eyes![I obediently sit cross-legged on the floor. HB lifts my shirt and tucks the doll under it.]HB: OK, now, you’re going to feel something a little weird, but don’t worry, it’s just your va gina

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-50346861136945930142009-01-14T09:43:00.002-05:002009-01-15T19:17:00.220-05:00

A while back, I made mention of doctors’ dread of lists. Now, I love a good list. I make them all the time. For example, here is a list I made for one weekend day last month. (And I wonder why I feel pressed for time. The ones on the side, by the way, were the “possible if I magically morph into a superhero,” so I don’t feel too bad about all the blank boxes. I’m not sure why “side tables”

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com38tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-44109175272072461962009-01-09T18:19:00.012-05:002009-01-09T19:01:54.041-05:00

Thanks for your wise counsel and perspectives. I’m feeling much better now (at least, as long as I don’t think too hard about another Tom Cruise in the making). I was also heartened by the result of the recent (and I am sure scientifically very accurate) Glamour poll of men: when offered the choice of being 6'2" with a 3-inch pen is or 5'2" with a 7-inch pen is, 68% chose the latter. I will not

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-89275264876613937032008-12-31T14:50:00.000-05:002009-01-01T15:04:19.050-05:00

While I’m on the topic of body image: there is a type of prejudice of which I have become acutely aware since the birth of my son.Why is still okay to make fun of short people?Why is it a compliment to remark upon how tall a child is, but a slur to point out that a child is short?Why is everyone so happy when babies are big?Why is automatically better for a man to be tall?How is height any

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com37tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-82927688400339221202008-12-23T17:55:00.004-05:002008-12-23T18:07:38.824-05:00

My friend J and I were talking about body image recently, and she said, “I’m very comfortable with my body—I don’t mind being naked in front of people—but I don’t really like it.”“What’s wrong with your body??!” I asked. J is beautiful and tall and solid and stacked. She’s a Brick. House.“Well, there are parts of it that are just ugly,” she said.“Like what?”“Like—like my back fat.”“What’s wrong

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-9361624817922200062008-11-10T10:26:00.005-05:002008-11-10T10:42:53.363-05:00

A little over a year ago, I went from never listening to music while running to almost always doing so. (Thanks again, E! Did you know my ipod survived even an epic soaking in a thunderstorm?) (Also, the pants fit, and belated thanks for those ...)My problem: I don't have enough songs. Turns out, my favorite music is not my favorite running music. For running, I need:A driving beatLyrics -- I

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com72tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-75196722279099658452008-09-30T11:01:00.003-04:002008-10-02T10:47:16.737-04:00

Not depressed anymore, just unbelievably overbooked. Doesn’t feel as bad when I’m not depressed, at least.I try to refrain from posts on “kids say the darndest things,” but I’m too busy to think of something better, and I have to get at least one post in for September.The other evening I was in a restaurant bathroom with HellBoy. He is looking at me in his usual serious way.HB: You know, not all

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-46207908816296611192008-08-30T12:21:00.005-04:002008-08-30T15:56:51.738-04:00

A couple of weeks ago during office hours, I saw a particular name on a chart, and my heart sank. This is a patient who sucks up an inordinate amount of my time every time she comes in, and to no discernible benefit to anyone. She has severe hypertension, for which she is on medication, and she obsesses about it. She takes her pressure three times a day, documents it each time, and brings the

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-67380261945999492922008-08-17T12:48:00.012-04:002008-08-17T16:53:53.443-04:00

Department of Motivation/Inspiration Q: Will I get better/faster? WHEN? I know you know the answer, don’t pretend you don’t!!! How not to get discouraged? (Slowpoke) and How do you push past the three mile slump? (mrsssg)A: One run out of the week (only one!), push yourself, either faster or farther—but NOT both, never both. You might try one run a week with someone else who’s a little bit

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-92053044434476089222008-08-05T09:17:00.004-04:002008-08-05T09:39:32.877-04:00

My blogger meet-up the other week was terrific, which was no surprise to me, since every blogger I’ve ever liked on screen and had the chance to meet I’ve also liked in person. The only thing that has ever startled me is that many of them are much taller than I thought, since that’s one thing you can’t tell from pictures. For some reason I expect everyone to be kind of shrimpy like me.For those

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-39835829862067258292008-08-02T15:19:00.003-04:002008-08-05T09:17:27.118-04:00

I recently received this query from a friend:My feet are trashed—ingrown toenails, blisters, corns, bunions. I fear they will end my running career. Any advice?This made me realize: I forgot to tell you folks about feet! This is a gross oversight on my part.This is what I told her:Yes, running can trash the feet if you’re not careful. I can pretty much guarantee that your shoes suck and are too

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-24777517126277816152008-07-31T20:49:00.016-04:002008-08-01T05:09:01.116-04:00

Is this about what you had in mind? Microfiber, in girlie or unisex style:First one goes to Victoria. Victoria, if you'd like to claim your prize, send me an email w/ a place to mail it and your preferences re: style and size (doctormamamd is the name and gmail is the place, and don't forget the "md," someone else stole plain "doctormama"). (Will that circuitous address decrease the spamming, you

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-35923465116387574722008-07-25T12:17:00.005-04:002008-07-25T12:40:19.847-04:00

Upswing underway, I’m fairly sure. I am looking forward to things here and there—for example, I am really pleased that I get to meet up with a fellow blogger tomorrow. (Caution: if you let your location slip and it’s anywhere near me, I may hunt you down. I have made several of my best friends this way. I’d link to them, but then my own location would be obvious.)Mignon noted the diversity

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-76060750797133797292008-07-12T10:55:00.010-04:002008-07-25T12:39:21.107-04:00

You’d think I’d recognize the signs earlier by now:Five (or more) of the following symptoms have been present during the same 2-week period and represent a change from previous functioning; at least one of the symptoms is either (1) depressed mood or (2) loss of interest or pleasure. depressed mood most of the day, nearly every day markedly diminished interest or pleasure in all, or almost all,

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-12912993248474529362008-06-24T10:13:00.007-04:002008-06-24T10:47:41.185-04:00

So I get this email last week:From: TrophyHusband@midlifecrisis.comSubject: racing sat and sunday combined raceDate: June 17, 2008 1:12:38 PMTo: DoctorMama@overextended.eduThere is a mid day fri short part (home in time to pick up HB no problem). Sat 9am start to 2 hour race (so leave here @ 7ish, then back by @ 1-2). Sunday early start and 1 hour race...home by 10am. Would figure out some

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-84830168000952277922008-05-25T12:10:00.004-04:002008-05-25T12:22:35.459-04:00

Q: What about knee pain? My knees have dull, generalized pain ... my knees swell … Any opinions on the running is bad for your knees if you have bad knees theory?A: Running really isn’t bad for your knees. It can make them hurt, sure, but it doesn’t cause destruction. Football players, who run explosively while carrying 300 pounds, destroy their knees. Runners don’t.The most common cause of knee

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-23309553655581520342008-04-13T21:45:00.003-04:002011-06-14T10:52:29.633-04:00

Now that spring is here, the running paths are getting pretty crowded. I don’t mind; I love seeing you maggots finally getting out there. You’re looking good, you really are. A couple of you still need a little more support up top, and a few of you are still trying to go too fast, but I’m proud of you all. Some of you may be wondering, after you’ve gotten comfortable with slow and steady, what’s

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-62198268167869658452008-03-23T14:48:00.010-04:002008-03-23T20:49:00.142-04:00

Re: my backside. Yes, I have an awesome ass, and yes, sometimes this knowledge sustains me in times of trouble. Thank you for the nice feedback; it did cheer me up. I wish I could promise that you too will get one from running, but mine is a genetic gift; I perhaps will maintain it longer by running, but I had it before ever I stuffed my feet into clompy Nikes.But I also have a great stomach,

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-659211173173910282008-03-11T12:25:00.011-04:002008-03-12T17:06:49.551-04:00

Now that I’ve drawn you in with that title, I will take advantage of your attention to complain:I once read somewhere that a lot of working women say that a good thing about working is that even if things aren’t going great at work, there’s always home to escape to, and vice versa. But what about when nothing seems to being going right anywhere?I used to love my job. Adore it. But for the past

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-14159762840061891222008-02-20T13:55:00.005-05:002008-02-20T14:01:17.054-05:00

Being a physician is for the most part a humbling experience. You think you’ve figured out the key to helping a patient control her hypertension, and the next week she gets admitted to the hospital with a pressure of 230/110. You don’t even think of asking the sweet grandmother about substance use, and she has a stroke from smoking crack. You reassure a chronically complaining patient that her

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-48373571820879851602008-02-14T13:27:00.001-05:002008-02-14T15:25:05.230-05:00

Your words are way more interesting than mine. To amuse myself while propping up a febrile three-year-old (who, having finally exhausted the orifices from which noxious liquids can be discharged, is all better), I categorized your words into several groups (and arranged them in alphabetical order – no, my word isn’t “compulsive,” why do you ask?):Tough StuffI was interested to see that this is

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-67926666339226157012008-02-09T17:16:00.000-05:002008-02-10T12:34:40.390-05:00

Just having to do everything one-handed on account of VirusBoy:We're on day 4 of fever to 105 or so and alternating sleeping (only while plastered to Mama) and tantrums (also while plastered to Mama) ... back with my Word post soon.

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-51592124237928270032008-01-27T19:23:00.000-05:002008-01-27T19:31:41.182-05:00

I may have spoken a little too early about having extra time. My Big Talk (which went well!), then a Saturday “retreat” for work (silly me, I didn’t realize that “retreat” meant “long-ass meeting” – though I guess I should be grateful that there were no falling-backward trust exercises), and some bumps in the road with the new colleague (e.g., a patient declaring “I never want to see that doctor

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com70tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-47145127884269564112007-12-31T20:46:00.000-05:002007-12-31T21:11:05.220-05:00

A few weeks ago, I was chatting with one of my very first Maggots, someone I ranked up near the top of my Successes list, when she said something that made my blood run cold:“So I’ve been running regularly for a year and a half now, and I never want to stop … even though I’m no good at it.”“Say what?”“I just kind of suck at running. I still can’t run for the whole half hour.”I was stunned. Here I

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-37218326600434401402007-12-07T11:38:00.000-05:002007-12-07T11:43:18.814-05:00

That November blog thing is very bad for those of us with little spare time. Since I can’t possibly read all of my usual bloggers, I don’t read any of them. And I certainly don’t want to add to anyone else’s reading burden, so I don’t post. Then the next thing you know, it’s deep into December and I haven’t read or written a damn thing, and I feel like a piece of my life is missing.I’ve got a

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-33093489233262898382007-10-31T16:05:00.000-04:002007-10-31T16:18:58.678-04:00

It’s been a while since I’ve done an advice post. So, inspired by a few inquiries from friends, I bring you the following public service post.Are you a face picker? Are you obsessed with removing every little imperfection in your complexion? Do you spend a half hour at a time sequestered in the bathroom, up against the mirror, scanning every inch of your skin, imagining defects if you can’t

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com41tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-57201708720209487352007-10-20T11:37:00.000-04:002007-10-20T11:45:12.096-04:00

Just got done with an enormous project and a sticky personnel issue. So it’s back to the rest of life.Re: $Q: Why, exactly, are you sending HB to private schools?We live in a city where the public schools are unfortunately very bad. Not “bad” as in the SAT scores are lousy—bad as in kids get shot at in school, and teachers have been so assaulted so severely that they end up crippled. If we lived

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-85600433947293271962007-10-01T23:12:00.000-04:002007-10-09T18:32:54.924-04:00

Such an uncomfortable topic for me. When you grow up poor, money takes getting used to.I was told back in the spring that I was probably going to get a raise, but I didn’t hear anything else until recently, when my new contract showed up. The raise was nice, and nicer was that in my next paycheck, I got something extra: back pay—my raise was back-dated nine months, to the beginning of the year.So

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-60678613070335128292007-09-22T17:55:00.000-04:002007-09-22T18:00:50.240-04:00

I’m getting better at the ipod running, thanks to some of the excellent advice I got here. I also found some ear buds that stay in my remarkably cavernous ear canals. (I bet I just creeped out someone who has an ear phobia. They made it through the cockroach post only to get hit with that. But it’s true, I have unusually large ones. The ears themselves are pretty normal-sized.) I’m discovering

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-90614856585164517122007-09-16T23:12:00.000-04:002007-09-16T23:31:27.138-04:00

I recently had a nice demonstration of the difference between being On an SSRI and being Off.Some six years ago, while I was Off, TrophyHusband and I moved into our first house. It was 200 years old, but had just been completely renovated. Which is how I knew that the wee baby cockroach creeping across the floor toward me when I got up to pee in the middle of the night had been imported from our

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-91611549459774664252007-08-25T17:08:00.000-04:002007-08-25T16:34:19.597-04:00

I got another great present for my birthday, from my dear friend E:Isn’t it gorgeous? I love love love it. I am a little embarrassed to admit, however, that in all my years of running, I have never run to a soundtrack, and I’m a total clod at it. With each new song I get all geeked and try to run to the beat, which must look absurd. I’m like someone trying to use cruise control for the first time

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-14384482798072810062007-08-17T03:37:00.000-04:002007-08-17T04:10:12.488-04:00

First, let me reiterate that I adore my child, I don’t think he has anything “wrong” with him, and I am very very grateful that he’s my son. I don’t want to squash his personality in any way; I just wonder if there’s something I’m doing that’s making things harder than they have to be. (Some of you are uncomfortable with the nickname HellBoy. I’m wondering if those of you who find it not funny

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-55686660166391274362007-08-03T12:04:00.000-04:002007-08-17T03:52:25.980-04:00

I don’t mind getting advice on child raising. Hey, I even ask for it from parents I admire and trust. So I’m soliciting it from you folks.But first, more about my mother-in-law. More context. Part of what made me so angry is that she does not say anything good or positive about me. This in itself does not make me mad; I’m pretty thick-skinned in that way—I don’t need a ton of affirmation from

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com62tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-59155130468038929842007-08-02T12:26:00.000-04:002007-08-02T12:43:45.374-04:00

I used to hear stories about other people’s in-laws and think that I really shouldn’t complain. My mother-in-law is a bit of a handful, sure; but she’s generous, energetic, and great with my kid. I used to think I had it pretty lucky.Not anymore.We just got back from a trip to Nana and Papa’s. We don’t get up there more than about twice a year, because whether you take a car, a plane, or a train,

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-2830564428608575902007-07-22T14:19:00.000-04:002007-07-22T15:22:40.806-04:00

I’m not too hung up on birthdays; since I share one with my brother, it’s always seemed like just another holiday rather than My Special Day. But this year my husband, in cahoots with one of my best friends, decided to throw me an almost-surprise party—“almost” in that he didn’t tell me until a week beforehand that it was going to happen, which didn’t give me enough time to get anxious about it.

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-4300458237447295832007-07-01T11:18:00.000-04:002007-07-01T11:40:13.377-04:00

Here’s how tough things have been around here: I started running in the morning.It was a long time coming. I had to skip my run more and more often, what with late meetings/work/HellBoy meltdowns. And I started to wake up too early more and more often, opening my eyes in a panic: What is it I’m overdue on today?Finally one morning as I lay in bed waiting for the 6 am alarm to go off, I realized I

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-48241214169001943112007-06-19T12:25:00.000-04:002007-06-19T12:35:46.159-04:00

Thanks for your comments to my last post. HellBoy is doing a little better; the Pre-K transition was slowed way down, he’s no longer sick, and he’s now breathing while he sleeps (of course, now we finally have an ENT appointment). Last night was a little traumatic because BadCat used HB’s precious guitar case as a litter box, but overall he’s been more cheerful.Work, on the other hand, is awful.

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com43tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-68771575521757949792007-06-09T17:06:00.000-04:002007-06-19T12:25:54.921-04:00

HellBoy may be having a nervous breakdown. Or, it could be just strep throat.It all started a few months ago, when HB went from being a silent, peaceful sleeper to sounding like your uncle Bob after the Fourth of July barbeque—snoring, grunting, thrashing, and, at times, becoming apneic. Yes, we took him to the pediatrician, and yes, she recommended a consultation with ENT. However, an

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-16194870760759809052007-05-18T12:01:00.001-04:002009-12-04T12:32:33.926-05:00

The last time I was this frantic was when I was a resident in the ICU. I considered abandoning blogging, but I really don’t want to. I know I keep saying this, but please hang in there while I try to regain my balance. In the meantime, here’s an update:Good news: I fired the temp assistantBad news: my old assistant still hasn’t come back, and it’s looking increasingly unlikely that she ever

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-15446104343822602332007-05-06T14:21:00.000-04:002007-05-06T14:30:26.473-04:00

Hearing stories like Snickollet’s makes everyone—including me—nervous. What if what happened to her husband happens to me? we ask. And then: How can I make sure that doesn’t happen to me?The short answer is, you can’t. When someone comes come to me and says “I want to be tested for everything,” I try to explain that most dread diseases can’t be “caught early” and that it’s actually dangerous to

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15583952.post-16522032563817564152007-04-10T12:34:00.000-04:002007-04-17T20:32:15.740-04:00

I’ve been tempted to complain some more about how busy and stressed I am, and how bad my temp assistant is, and how I’ve got another cold, but then I think about Snickollet and it shuts me right up. None of us knows how we’ll react in the worst of circumstances, but I’m pretty certain that I wouldn’t display anything close to her grace, strength, humor, honesty, and ability to seize the day. So

DoctorMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05187502628715846144noreply@blogger.com11