A Day in the Life

Today was the first Monday of Winter Holiday and we celebrated by taking Moses to the doctor for his six month check up. He got three shots and Eli and I both ended up getting one flu shot each as well (Carlye already got hers and was the only one who left the clinic without a sore appendage). Moses spent most of the day eating and sleeping and laughing. Eli spent most of the day cracking me and Carlye up.

Moses loves to feed himself toasted oats (Cheerio's) after lunch and dinner. He goes through them pretty quickly and so when he runs out Carlye will ask him if he wants more "Os" while making the handsign for the letter O (she is into the baby sign language). So today at lunch when Moses ran out of Cheerios Eli asked his brother if he wanted more "Hos". "Hey brother you want more Hos? You want Hos? Need more Hos? You need Hos? Hey, you need Hos?" Between suppressed laughter Carlye and I look at each other and I ask her why she is raising our son to be so disrespectful to women.

Later Moses is napping. Eli loads up a small paper bag with toys and library books, gets up and says "I going to work, I going to my office." When I ask him what he does for work he repsponds "Rescue pilot. I need to go fly my airplane." I then ask him if the bag he is carrying is his briefcase and he says "No, it's presents." At this point he gets distracted from rescuing people and proceeds to hand out presents to Carlye and I. He gives me a dinosaur (which looks surprisingly like a book) and when Carlye asks for one to he tells her, "No mommy, you've been bad." I try not to look Carlye in the eyes because I am already laughing too loudly to discourage such behavior from my son.

After dinner I put Moses into a clean diaper and pajamas. Earlier Eli had all of the throw pillows on the floor. I take one and lay down on the couch with Moses starting to fall asleep on my chest. Eli comes over to play and after about ten minutes he suddenly realizes I have one of the eight pillows he was playing with before dinner (but not since). He looks at me and asks for his pillow back. I point out that he has seven more to play with on the floor including one that is identical to the one I am laying on. Needless to say, this line of rational and clear-headed reasoning does not work on a two year old. He proceeds to tell me that the pillow I have is for him, the one identical to it is for his stuffed bear and the other six he needed as well (although no explanation for why he needed these was given). I think Carlye was the one laughing at me this time. But I somehow managed to keep my pillow instead of having to give it up for Eli's stuffed bear.

Seriously

Last night Carlye went out for some much needed R and R (pedicures and dinner out). I was left to fend for myself with Elisha and Moses. So naturally Eli and I had waffles for dinner, then we all three spent some time rolling on the floor, coloring, and reading some books before I managed to put them both to bed (much easier now that Moses goes to sleep before Eli, a similar night a few months ago saw me giving Eli a bath while holding Moses at the same time, it should be an olympic sport...hold the screaming baby in one hand while washing the other screaming child, point deduction for not getting the older one into pajamas while still holding the screaming baby). I am constantly amazed and overly appreciative and left dumbstruck when I consider that Carlye does this every weekday all day. I mean these boys are loads of fun but man they can wear you out real quick. Anyways, kudos to her and I am glad she got out for some rest.
Since Carlye was gone for Moses nine o'clock feeding this meant I was to give him a bottle. Being the prepared father that I am I took the bottle out of the freezer to thaw out at eight o'clock. Of course this does not help when Moses wakes up screaming three minutes later. Naturally as a seasoned dad I let him cry for a while and offer him his pacifier a couple times. Then I just decide to feed him early. So I put the bottle under hot, running water. I practiced several different techniques of getting the water to hit the maximum surface area of the bottle all in vain attempts to try and speed up the thawing process. After ten minutes I was left wondering if I should have just boiled some water in the first place. With the milk finally thawed, the bottle armed and ready, and I go up to feed the screaming baby, who proceeds to drink one once of the five and fall back to sleep. As Carlye would say (and now Eli has started too as well) "Seriously?"
My poor parents. Why is it you can't really appreciate all they went through to raise you until you move out and have kids of your own?

Wha?

Have you seen this? Random one eh? (I can't believe I stop blogging for two weeks and this is all I can come up with, how do you like that weak game?)

O Canada

Well, one of my favorite Thanksgiving stories is when I celebrated my first (and last) Canadian Thanksgiving. I was studying here at the time and some of the students around us in our housing complex were from Canada. Imagine my surprise when they told us all that they were going to host a Thanksgiving dinner for everyone in October. Here is how the conversation went with one of the Canadians, according to my admittedly foggy (and undoubtedly embellished) memory.
"Don't you mean November?"
"What?"
"Thanksgiving is in November."
"No, Canadian Thanksgiving is in October"
"Canadian Thanksgiving?"
"Yeah, Canadian Thanksgiving"
"Wait, did you guys steal our holiday?" (by which I meant Americans, by which I meant those who dwell in the United States).
"No, we have it every year." (well that clears it up?!)
"What is Canadian Thanksgiving?"
"Well every year we get together with family and have a big meal with turkey, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, green beans, etc"
"Hang on a second, what do you guys celebrate during your Thanksgiving?"
"You know, when the Pilgrims had a big feast with the Indians a long time ago."
"That happened in the English Colonies, in what would become the United States. That didn't happen in Canada. Your country was founded by a bunch of French fur traders. Why do you have a holiday that celebrates American history?" (by which I meant United States history and not Canadian)
"I don't know, that's what we do."
"So you mean to tell me, that you have a holiday in Canada every year that celebrates the Pilgrims coming to America and having a feast with a local Indian tribe during harvest time?"
"I guess so."
"You stole our holiday. Why did you steal our holiday? Doesn't that seem like a strange thing to do?"
"We didn't steal your holiday, it's Canadian Thanksgiving."
"Well if you are going to steal our holiday why don't you at least have it during November like we do?"
"I don't know."
"Do you think it would be a little less obvious that you stole our holiday if you had it in October instead of November?"
No response.
So October came and we had a Thanksgiving meal, just like all the Thanksgiving meals I had every November growing up in the States. Then in November the Americans hosted a Thanksgiving meal for everyone, which was pretty much exactly the same. I wonder if you have relatives from Canada and they want to celebrate in October and you want to celebrate in November you compromise and have a Thanksgiving meal together on Halloween.

Wow

Last Sunday night I went with my friend Matt to see UNC take on Iona in basketball. It was there that I saw this dunk by Tyler Hansbrough. And yes it was even nastier in person. I think the man was almost horizontal. Got to hand it to the short Iona point guard who tried to stop Hansbrough though, I feel no shame in admitting I would have been running towards the nearest exit of the Smith Center. Hansbrough also managed to get fouled by the guard on the play (by falling into some timewarp wormhole in the universe and ending up in bizarro world I think) and finished the dunk off with the rare college basketball four-point play. And no, not all of my blogs will be about Carolina Basketball (after March that is).

Free Weekend

The second year of medical school at UNC is divided up into thirteen blocks of pathophysiology. Basically we go through each organ system of the body and learn the major diseases that affect said organ system and the most current theories on how this disease process works on a molecular level.
And don't let them fool you, many of these are crude theories. If I have learned one thing since being in med school, it's that the human body is more complex than the most confusing thing imaginable times forty-three taken to the millionth power. I mean one of the most common causes of a good number of diseases we learn about is idiopathic. This basically means no one knows what causes it or why it happens. Some physicians joke that it stands for the doctor is an idiot and the patient is pathetic (of course they mean that in the most compassionate way I'm sure).
Anyways, I spent the last three weeks learning the major diseases of the digestive system, everything from achlasia to Zollinger-Ellison Syndrome (with things like non-alcoholic fatty liver disease in-between). Then we had a test on Friday. While this meant a lot of studying last week, it also meant that I just had a weekend free of schoolwork. I know it sounds pathetic but these are the things you live for in med school.
I had some lunch with some classmates on Friday, came home to spend time with the fam that afternoon, then we went to my brother-in-law's, Ben, birthday party. All four of us slept in on Saturday and we spent the day together doing some Christmas shopping, then coming home to sleep some more, make a fire, and enjoy time together. A great day relaxing together. Sunday we went to church then home to rest before I went to the first UNC home basketball game of the year. what a glorious weekend.

First Fall Fire

We moved into our new house in May. We loved our old house on Huron Street. It was our first house and was the site of lots of memories for us. Eli was born while we were there and spent the first two years in our cute yellow house. It was nice and cozy. The neighborhood was great. There were only two downsides to it in Carlye and I's opinion. One that it wasn't quite big enough for a family of four (even with my minimalist will forced upon everyone in it) and two it didn't have a fireplace. For some reason my wife and I both have this strange nostalgic association with fires in the fireplace. We both like wood burning fireplaces the best as well (are there any other kind?). It's strange. We are opposites in so many things and yet we both share this strange romantic feeling about fireplaces (more the literature definition than the relationship one). So when we moved into our new house you can imagine that the sadness of leaving our very first house was somewhat lessened by the wood burning fireplace in our new living room. Of course it was ninety degrees at the time so our gratification was not instant.

At any rate it got cold here during the night on Wednesday so I figured why not break in our new fireplace. I decided to enlist Eli, our two and a half year old, as a helper and by doing so I think I made his year. He is a funny kid. He loves helping Carlye and I so much. I mean when you give him a job or a chore now he actually says thank you and if you don't give him a job to do he will throw a tantrum (seriously, who does this kid get this from?) So I figure we might as well take advantage of the current state of affairs while it lasts.

Anyways, he helped me bring up the wood, the kindling, and the newspaper (literally running up the stairs with a log as big as his head just so he could run back downstairs and help me with another one). We then loaded the fireplace, stuffed the newspaper under the logs, arranged the kindling, and fired her up (couldn't resist). It was a perfect first fire in our new house. We kept it burning all evening and the four of us sat around the living room, reading, studying, playing with puzzles and stickers. Basking in the warmth of the fire. Staring into the flaming embers. Enjoying the smell. Nothing like it. Before I put him to bed I thanked Eli for all of his help, saying " I couldn't have done it without you." To which he humbly replied, "I know." I do know who he gets that from...his mother.

Today

Woke up to a our son Elisha climbing into bed next to me, when I went to scoot over to make room for him, my wife, Carlye, told me to be careful and when I looked over there was another even littler boy, Moses, laying next to her. Our bed gets awfully full these days. Still its hard to be grumpy about it when you wake up to two little boys laughing and giggling at each other. Even if the sun hasn't come out yet.
Last night was the first UNC basketball game of the season, much to my wife's chagrin. I was trying to reason with her in the car last night, explaining how the college basketball season is relatively short. She counted out the months from November to March and said that was as long as Moses has been alive. Not to be outdone by sound logic I pointed out that at least I didn't follow baseball, I mean that game goes on for nine or ten months of the year. I don't know if she was convinced, but what can you do. It's not like you choose to be a sports fan, it seems to choose you and you just hold on for the ride. UNC managed to eek out a win against Davidson. It was rough going and my nerves were shot by the end. I was left wondering if my wife was saner than she lets on.
I found this Tuesday night in my anticipation of Wednesday's game. The music is a bit silly, but the video more than makes up for it. I mean, how could I not be obsessed when I grew up watching players like Vince Carter?