Whether I like it or not, the bathing suits are making their annual appearance. And as we get ready for swim season, can I just say one thing?

Moms, please stop wearing your bikinis. Okay? Just stop.

It will make me feel sooo much better. And it’s all about me isn’t it?

Yep. <– I just answered that for you. You’re welcome.

I’m the mom over there in the tankini  (can you believe that is even a word?). I know you see me. I strategically conceal my muffin top behind my black tankini praying my kids don’t accidentally lift it up and expose the whiter than white gummy tummy I’ve tried to hide. I gave the one-piece-disguised-as-a-tankinin a try. Imagine squeezing a sausage into a casing a tad too small. Yeah, that.

Honestly, it isn’t about the weight thing. That, I have control of. Or not, depending on how you look at it. But really, whether a size 4 or size 14, I think you look great. You and your tiny two pieces of material ;)

The thing that just gets me is the fact that you are walking around with an unmarked stomach! How on God’s green earth did you manage to grow a baby or two or three and walk away unscathed? Not fair, my friends. Not fair at all.

I’ve been branded.

My skin was never supposed to stretch. I’m serious.

My senior year in high school I was trying on a halter top with a friend. She asked if my cat had scratched me. What? No. Why? She pointed to my chest. I looked down and saw the shiny purple stripes.

After waiting 18 years…I had finally “developed.” I was bra worthy. Though barely pushing an A cup, I had stretch marks! What?! My skin was never meant to grow. I’m convinced.

So imagine an almost 8 pound butter ball expanding my stomach to freakish proportions. Exactly.

Those first stretch marks thought they were all sneaky. Creeping on the underside of my belly where I couldn’t see. Then bam! They made their presence known…loud & clear. But they didn’t just stop there, they kept on going, past the button, on top of the belly, until finally… mercy. They were gracious enough to stop below the jug line. (You know it’s bad when you OB lifts up your shirt at your check-up and says “whoa.”)

My stomach will never see the light of day again.

It’s not that I’m dying to wear a bikini, it’s just that it would be nice to have the choice. I’d still stick with my tankini though (but that’s another post for another day).

Oh, and the only thing that is comforting in all this, is that God was kind enough to give my best friend some memorable stretch marks too. Like all over her stomach. The only difference is that mine are straight up and down, and hers are more like a bulls eye, right around her belly button. So yeah, there’s that.

Pinch me, cause I kinda can’t believe it.

I can finally see the faint light at the end of the tunnel. The countdown has begun. We’re on the homestretch.

And so to celebrate, I am co-hosting Medical Mondays this month! woo hoo!!!

It’s June! The Summer parties start here with Medical Mondays! So, let’s dump the uniforms, scrubs and white coats and have some fun visiting old friends and making some new ones!

Want to be awesome?

Post our button on you post or sidebar and help spread the word:

Want to co-host next month? Shoot Emma an email at yourdoctorswife@gmail.com and be sure to write “Medical Monday Co-host Request” in the subject field.Now, link up below and have fun! The link up is open through Friday, so be sure to come back during the week to check some great reads!

And….

my linky thing isn’t working…womp womp. So please go to Your Doctor’s Wife or From A Doctor’s Wife to link up until I can figure out the problem.

Thanks for stopping by!!!

*******

When we were driving around with a realtor in Charleston, there was a smallish turtle smack dab in the middle of the road. Our realtor lady was concerned that “teenage boys will run right over it on purpose” and asked HJ if he would get out and move it. So being the gentlemen that he is, he hopped out of the car. He gently grabbed the sides of the shell and started walking…when all of the sudden it starts hissing and whipping it’s head. “What. is. that?!” “that would be a snapping turtle,” she told me, realizing what she just asked my husband to do. Pick up a freaking snapping turtle.

I couldn’t believe what I was watching. It was crazy. And where most people would have dropped the possessed reptile the second it started going balistic, HJ continued his mission & carried to the side of the road. I don’t know if that was brave or stupid.  Either way, I think it was a totally rude of the turtle to act like that when clearly his life was being saved. Whatever. When HJ got in the car, his hands smelled. Bad. Real bad. Apparently snapping turtles release a nasty odor when angry…or all the time. I don’t know. The whole thing was so weird. The end.

*******

I doubt the turtle I saw today was a snapping one (do they have those in AL?) but I wasn’t going to chance it, so I just drove by slowly and watched the little guy.

I’ve never really seen a turtle walk. Weird, right? every time I’ve ever see one it’s usually hiding in his shell, on a log in a pond or takes one step to eat a piece of lettuce in his tiny display at the zoo.

But this guy…he was on the move, he was going places. Just trotting along, totally determined. It seriously was so cute.

And it got me thinking about these guys.

Well, here’s my epiphany for the day: I want to be the tortoise…or in this case, the turtle.

But I tend to be the hare. I get all excited and bust out of the gates full of energy and enthusiasm. I jump around from one thing to the next. I’ve got a ba-jillion ideas. Hippity hop. I’m moving…moving fast. But then, I stop. Unlike the rabbit in the story, I don’t stop & nap because I’m way ahead, I end up napping cause I called it quits.

But the turtle. Oh, the turtle.

Being a turtle ain’t so easy. He carries around a heavy load, literally. He can’t move faster than, say, 4 mph. But…. despite that, (here comes the inspirational part) he has determination and perseverance on his side. He does the work, even when it’s hard. He knows where he’s headed, he’s focused on the goal, he doesn’t lose hope.

The turtle never gives up. He keeps on going. Slow and steady my friends. Slow and steady.

Think about it, being a turtle affords you time to take in the sites, smell the roses, savor the moments. Something most rabbits forget to do.

So who wouldn’t want to be a turtle?! Or at least channel some inner tortoise to a couple life situations?

Let’s take parenting for instance. That is totally turtle work. It’s challenging and messy and you know how you want it to turn out, but aren’t sure how you’ll ever reach the end. Is there an end? Be the turtle…don’t lose hope.

The whole medical training fiasco takes some serious turtle mindset, perseverance touches just the surface ….that’s all I want to say about that. Which leads to…

Ahem…marriage. Yeah, that’s a biggie too. Turtle-intensity right there folks. When I said “I do” that was a promise not to quit. I’ll admit, I’ve taken my fair share of cat-naps during the marriage thing thus far, but never for too long.

Jobs, relationships, blogging, health, faith, pretty much…all of life. All of it needs turtle drive!

And a lot of that stuff is the kind of thing where your hard work won’t pay off until later - I’ve heard some call it delayed gratification ;) That’s a tough thing in this Insta-everything world we live in. Or it’s the stuff where your work may go unnoticed, unappreciated. And that’s no fun when we expect everything to be about me, me, me <— totally the rabbit right there.

Being a turtle probably isn’t the popular choice. But I like to think it’s a wise one. So, I’m gonna try to be a turtle (or a tortoise). Not because he wins in the end, but because he finished. He did the work. He stayed the course. Because when I cross my finish line I want to be able to say:

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.

And that my friends takes some serious turtle power!!!!

My favorite was always Donatello. Who was yours?

I was curious to see what this video was about but didn’t have time to watch it…until today.

I was laughing when it started, cause it’s awesome, and then the lyrics came. And I cried.

So anyway, back to the video…these were happy tears.

Because there was a time when I would have been that person dancing in the street like a fool. I would have been the first to volunteer. Seriously. But then something happened. And I no longer was that person. And I was stuck in a sad and lonely place for a long time.

A few years back, the girls were dancing in the family room. HJ and I were on the couch. He asked me why I never danced anymore. I shrugged. He kept telling me to get up and dance with the girls. That it would be fun.

And so I tried. But it was strange and awkward. I didn’t know how to move. I felt like I wasn’t even in my own body.

Fast forward to today…I may not be the first one to volunteer to go dancing by myself in the street, but you could probably talk me into it. At home though, I am as goofy and crazy (fun crazy – just to clarify) as I ever was.

As I watched this video, I thought about my kids. I pray my kids grow to have the confidence to be themselves, the awesome people they were created to be. To dance in the street…even if no one else is. Even when being themselves is lonely or difficult. I want them to be brave.

I haven’t felt very brave lately. Especially here on this blog. But this gave me encouragement. It reminded me to be myself even if it’s lonely and difficult and I make a complete fool out of myself. It reminded me to speak up and speak my truth. So thank you, sweet friend, for thinking of me!

And for you too, yes you, reading this right now. Be brave, be awesome, but mostly, just be you!

Now…let’s go dance!

For some reason, I can’t get the video to show up here, so click the link to go watch it. It will make you smile…i promise. It’s by Sara Bareilles and it’s called BRAVE. Lyrics are below.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QUQsqBqxoR4&list=UUeorj4gQq9KLidnoC-XCbCQ&index=2

Well, things are a changing. Or at least I’m trying.

Since the kids and I have moved down to Alabama, we have all been super lazy. We don’t have school to get up for, we don’t have any activities to go to, no appointments, no nothing. And I am the least self-motivated person around. So yeah, we stay up late and sleep in and stay in PJs way too long. It’s been good. But it’s time to change.

It has been a dream of HJ’s that we would wake up together. That we would sit on the porch together and drink coffee (I don’t, he does) before the chaos ensues kids get up. I even put this on my Omega List.

Well after listening to Michael Hyatt’s podcast on How to Become a Morning Person, it got me thinking. One of the first thing he says is that he doesn’t believe we are naturally morning people or night people. He believes we can be whatever we want. We get to choose.

Hmmm…. Maybe I could do this. Maybe I could become a morning person too. And so with that, I thought I’d give it a shot.

So, today is day 3. The third day I have woken up before the kids. The third day my alarm has rung and I didn’t turn it off and roll over. The third day I have showered. Before noon.

Today was the hardest since HJ was on call last night and so wasn’t here to push me out of the bed lovingly encourage me to get up. But I did it. Pat on the back for me.

And honestly, it’s been really nice. Actually getting up and dressed before the kids. I think the kids are enjoying it too. No more Super Grumpy Mom. Now they just get Grumpy Mom. Hopefully soon they’ll just get Mom. And if they’re lucky, maybe one day they’ll wake up to Happy Mom. One can dream, right?

Here are a few tips in the podcast that I have been implementing to help this routine (their are 10 tips on the podcast, these are just the ones I have found to be critical for me):

1) Put the alarm across the room. Yeah, I’m not a fan, but it really does get you out of bed. Duh.

2) Turn ALL the lights ON. I’m not a fan of this either. I like to slowly wake up. It reminds me when I was growing up how my mom used to march into my room (uninvited I might add) and open my curtains. I hated that so much. She thought it was hilarious.

3) Make the bed right away. This is a very critical step for me. You see, I love to sneak back into bed after I take my shower (if it’s before noon). Warm in my robe with my hair twisted into a towel, I crawl back into my cozy bed. I swear I hear it calling my name…that’s the only reason I do it.

4) Go to bed early. The end.

Are you a morning person? What helps get you going in the morning?

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So the other morning when HJ tells me he got me something for Mother’s Day, my first reaction was “why? I don’t want anything” and then “Why are you telling me this? Are you going to give it to me right now?”

Well, not exactly. I haven’t bought it yet. 

So why are you telling me you got me something if you don’t have it already?

Well, I wanted to see if you’d be on board with it.

On board with it? I didn’t quite understand. It’s not some sort of jewelry is it? My silver hoops from Target and my wedding ring are all I need. I know…lame, but it’s me.

No.

Is it something I can wear? (cause honestly, I thought that would actually be awesome since I threw out almost everything in my closet last week).

No. You don’t wear it. 

What? I was confused. So if it’s not jewelry and not clothes…and then it dawned on me….is it something for someone else? 

Yes!

Have you ever received one of those cards at Christmas that say someone bought you a goat or a duck instead of a present? And you’re like what? A duck? Gee, thanks.  (You know it’s for a good cause, but it doesn’t really connect.) Yeah, I kinda felt that.

And then he got all excited, pulled out his computer and started talking…

I was listening to the Wally Show the other morning (this is on a Christian radio station…yes, we are cool like that and listen to Christian radio – don’t hate) and he was talking about Blood:Water Mission & about these water filters they make in Zambia.

Oh yeah. I just watched a You Tube video about it yesterday. Aren’t they $80 or something? Trying to convince him that was too much money to spend (yes, I’m embarrassed to admit that!).

Yeah. I thought you’d be excited about it. It’s something you would do. 

Um, I guess you’re right.

And then he got really pumped… Amber, this filter will give a family clean water for 20 years. 20 years!! Can you believe that?! We take water for granted. I mean, it never even crosses our minds. If they want water, they have to walk 2 miles to get it. I just walked into the kitchen this morning to get you water! And ours is clean! And we can get it whenever we want. Theirs is nasty. And it makes them sick! It’s just crazy. (I didn’t make any of that up, he totally said it. For reals.)

For the last few years, this guy has heard me talk about organizations & causes like these, seen me shed tears over these things, and even helped me clear out my closet after he watched me reach my goal ($1245!) for my Purpose Project with The Mocha Club.

And now he totally gets it! He’s on board! He realized how just one person really can make a difference! This guy knows my heart. And really, this is the perfect gift for me. But still, as hard as it is to admit, initially my selfish me was like What? $85 dollars on a water filter…for someone else? But I really wanted this belt.

But after watching this video (look at those sweet kids!)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IZRArpTdGvU

and seeing these pictures

and thinking about a mama holding her baby who was sick because there wasn’t access to clean water….

…there wasn’t even a question.

OK, let’s buy me a biosand filter! Happy Mother’s Day to me!

There’s still time to buy one too. For you? For your mom? For a family in Zambia?

Let’s do this!

Well, I beg to differ. I think maybe doctor’s wives do. OK, maybe that’s just the case for moi.

Well hold on a second…. It’s not so much the going to see the doctor thing that I’m so bad at. I have no problem there.  It’s when they prescribe me something, I seem to fail miserably.

You see, I have a couple of medications I (am supposed to) take daily.

One to help with my allergies.

One to help me stay focused (though that is nearly impossible when you have 4 kids and a dog at home all the time!).

And one to keep me sane…or happy…or not depressed…or really just be able to function each day. You get the idea.

Well, apparently those medications {that super smart people discovered and/or concocted} really do work… but only… and here’s the kicker…

if you take them.

And therein lies my problem.

Taking them. Consistently. Like every day.

Because apparently if you do that – they work. Ha! Imagine that! And if you don’t take them, then, um they don’t work. Kinda like birth control pills, right? Yeah. Learned that lesson the hard way 11 years ago. But we like to call that a “blessing” not an oopsie ;)

You know, there is this funny thing that happens when you take medicine correctly to help with your ailments. Typically, you feel better. And duh, you are better… because you are taking them.

But I seem to forget this little fact. I forget it with every one of those medications I {am supposed to} take.

I no longer am sneezing or have an itchy throat?  Woo hoo! I’m healed! And I quit.

I feel I have life in order and under control? Sweet! I’m all better! And I quit.

I feel as though I am happy and doing well? Ah yeah…It’s all good! And I quit.

(Or honestly, sometimes I just forget to take them.)

But then….

Bam! I’m back to square one.

It’s like taking one step forward and 28 steps back. You know, as smart as I am (shut-up, no sarcastic comments!), I struggle with this.  I know about this stupid cycle, yet, I let myself slip up over and over again.

Apparently I thought I was miraculously healed a while back. News flash: No healing!!!…I was just actually following the directions and taking my meds like I was supposed to. But, silly me…I was fooled (once again) and so I stopped popping those little pills.

Maybe that’s why this blog has been silent for so long. I tend to retreat (you know, like most people do when they’re depressed, yeah me too). I let doubt, fear, and insecurity take over. Plus, I’ve been sneezing a lot. That is probably the main reason why I’ve been gone, stupid allergies ;)

But I’m showing up today. And hopefully I’ll show up tomorrow. And the next day and the next. It’s a process, a daily battle.

Anyone else struggle with this little cycle – taking your meds, feeling better, then quitting? Anyone else just plain forget to take your medicine? It’s OK, we all do it…or maybe it’s just me :/ womp womp….

Plus, look what I found….if you’ve got empty Rx bottles laying around, here are some crafty ways to reuse and recycle those suckers. You’re welcome.

I told you that if I raised $800 by the end of March, I would clean out my closet to only 35 pieces.

35 items to wear for the next 365 days.

I called it my aWEARness Project. (Now I’m calling it crazy!)

One month ago, I was sitting at my computer completely overwhelmed…it wasn’t just $800. It was $1245!

So…I did it.

Well actually, you did it.

Now what?

Well, after being in total denial that I was going to have to get rid of most of my clothes, I started thinking about how I was going to go about doing this.

I had big plans to form a little committee of friends to help me weed through my closet, take pictures, blog about the process, and blah blah blah. But reality is… it never happened. Obviously.

So Tuesday night (April 30th) at 9:30pm, I realized it was now or never. I had avoided the inevitable long enough. I had to make good on my word. I had to hold up my end of the deal.

With my mom and husband being the only ones awake, by default, they became my little council. So with them on the couch, I went into my closet and brought out my first batch of clothes.

At first, it was kinda fun.

And then an hour into it, it wasn’t so fun anymore.

At one point my husband popped some popcorn for him and my mom to enjoy during my emotionally draining endeavor. Apparently they thought this was entertaining. me? not so much.

But 5 giant garbage bags later, my closet is close to empty.

(12 of the 35 pieces of clothes) 

It’s been two days into this and it feels kinda weird walking into my almost empty closet. I cried yesterday. Not because most of my clothes are gone, but because I can already tell that my choices were not too smart. I blame my husband and my mom. Mostly my husband. But we’ll get to that later….

Right now, I’ve got to go pack for a weekend trip. Oh wait, I hardly have any clothes, so really it should only take me a whopping 58 seconds to throw it into my suitcase. Awesome.

Did anyone else watch Bravo TV’s newest reality show, Married to Medicine?

Can I just say….ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!

Reality? Not so much.

Entertaining? Possibly.

It’s so unrealistic, so scripted, it hurts. The acting may be sub-par, but I will say they definitely have some characters on the show, so good job ladies.

Here are a few of my initial thoughts:

1) Maybe they tried to get on the  Real Housewives of Atlanta but didn’t make the cut so they started their own show.

2) When did Atlanta become reality show central? How many shows are based out of there?

2) The only women I actually respect on that show are the actual Doctors. Though I was a little shocked that they agreed to be on something like this. (Especially Dr. Jackie)

3) Who goes to that many parties?

4) Maybe they should branch out of their “tight medical social circle” and make some new friends. It might decrease the drama. Oh wait, stupid me….that’s not what they want.

4) Why do they keep saying “you have to act like a doctor’s wife“? Can someone please tell me how a doctor’s wife is supposed to act? I didn’t realize there was a code of conduct…well, besides being respectful and polite… just like everyone should act.

5) Quad needs to stop throwing around her husband’s college and medical school credentials. Who cares where he went? The point is…he went to med school and now he’s a doctor. I get it. He’s smart. Way to go Dr. Quad.

6) The one thing it’s missing: arguments between husbands and wives. I think a lot of doctor’s wives harbor resentment and bitterness because of the nature of their husband’s job & schedule. Oh wait, maybe that’s just me :/

7) It’s worse than high school. I really hope the cattiness is scripted because if that’s for real….yowza! I’m embarrassed for them.

But I’m sure they don’t care what people like me think. I’m sure they figure they are the smart ladies who came up with this show and are happy to be rolling in the dough and enjoying the fame.

So bravo ladies. Way to keep the unrealistic stereotypes alive.

I still love what my husband said to me when I told him about this show. I made the comment that I didn’t think any of the “doctor’s wives” were married to their husbands during med school or residency (maybe one was) and he said, “Oh. Then they’re not real doctor’s wives.”  So, according to him, you have to experience the grueling, awful years of training to be qualified as a “real” DW.  And that’s why I love him :)

Oh, and you can find some other real doctor’s wife over at Medical Monday link up.

It was too amazing not to share….

Dear Autism,

When I met you 3 1/2 years ago I was so scared of you. I can remember driving home from the doctor’s office with my little girl fastened tighter in her car-seat than she had ever been. My need to protect her had just tripled. There were several times that I thought  I might need to pull over and catch my breath but I was desperate to get home and snuggle up with my little Justin.

I was so mad at you for thinking you could be part of  her life.

She’s mine, not yours.

We never invited you.
Where did you come from?

My mind was racing through the rest of her life and I began to sob.

Were you going to steal her childhood? The fear of her never having a best friend made my chest hurt and I thought that I might truly burst.

Was anyone ever going to want to marry her?
What about kids?
Were you going to take that dream from her?
My hate for you had begun so small minutes ago in that office and had already grown to fill my entire body.

Are the kids going to tease her in school?
What about her teachers.
Would they ever really understand my little girl?
Panic set in and I started to think about homeschooling. You would be there with us too but in my own home I could protect her from you.

Breath. Slow down. Focus. Rise Above.

That was years ago and I’m over any fear I ever had. I’ve watched my daughter face you with a grace that you could never posses.

Do you remember the spoons? I’m sure you’ve tried to forget.

I haven’t. I cherish it.

She held a spoon for four days straight and became obsessed with it. We found spoons hidden under her crib and she even took one to show and tell at school.

It was awesome.

I know that you were trying to take her down, confuse us and control her.

You didn’t.

She rocked show and tell that day. The kids clapped for her and asked to see her spoon. Her teacher let her proudly stand in front of the class  and tell all about that shiny silver spoon.

You lost. She won.

And what about those earphones. You thought you had us there didn’t you.

You didn’t.

You made her curl into a ball under her desk and cry because her ears hurt. You made her scared to go to school because it was too loud.

So we got the earphones.

My husband and I stayed up all night worrying about her going to school with those on. We gave long speeches to her sisters about the need to protect and comfort her. The thought of her being made fun of was almost too much to carry.

She pranced into  school that day with her head held high. Her ears didn’t hurt and she wasn’t scared. She didn’t care what she looked like, she was happy. The kids even thought she was cool. And even though I don’t like jealousy, this was a moment that I cherished it. The other kids were a little jealous that they didn’t have bright orange earphone. Score one for Justin.

You lost again.

Today kicks off Autism Awareness Month and I want to make a few things clear.

We’re not celebrating you.

We’re celebrating our friends and family that fearlessly face you each and every day.

We’re celebrating our children who have challenges that others can’t see.

You are the invisible special needs that takes extreme patience to understand and overcome.

I’m good with that.
I’m not scared anymore.

You don’t have my little girl.
My little girl has you.

You’re going to be the one that’s scared when she walks into a room. You’re going to be the one that curls up under a desk and cries.

You should be scared.
You should be nervous.
You should be intimated.

My Justin is not going to cave to you and this family will make sure of it. Her teachers will make sure that you never hold her back. Her sisters will make sure that she always has friends.

My little Justin may never get married. She may never have children. She may never have a best friend outside of her sisters.  She may never  play a group sport or be the lead in the school play. I can guarantee that she won’t be in the school band or ever watch a sporting event that involves buzzers.

I’m at peace with all of that.

She will dance by herself with complete abandonment without a single care of who is watching.                                                                             She will write a story about me  that is so precious it could only come from an angels heart.
She will lay completely  still beside me during snuggle time and pray out loud for it to never end.
She will read beyond her level.
She will out smart the rest of us.
She will exceed all of my expectations and crush all of my fears.

Good luck this month Autism. You’re going to need it.

Sincerely,
Team Justin

Today is the first day of April. All month there will be a focus on autism awareness but for me and my family it is an everyday thing, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year.

That doesn’t make me sad.

I’m proud of my little girl and wish I could see more of her world than the little pieces I get to see.
I wish that everyone could see the beauty through her eyes.
I’m proud of my family and what we have faced, graced and overcome.
I’m proud of my other daughters who have stepped up and shown compassion and understanding in a way that I wouldn’t even expect from adults.

So, when you see us out and there’s a little girl at our side with mismatched gloves and a pair of bright orange hunting earphones on singing out loud, completely out of tune, don’t look at us with sad eyes as if to say “I’m sorry”. Instead, join in. Sing along. Dance your heart out and become a part of Team Justin.

You can find more of this good stuff at the Women With Worth site.

Or go be social with W3 on

Facebook/womenwithworth            Twitter @womenwithworth

Instagram @womenwithworth           Pinterest/WomenWithWorth

you can also email Candice directly at womenwithworth.W3@gmail.com

I’m totally Team Justin…are you?!!