the last 9 yards... I mean, 9 weeks...

Everyone told us this would be the hardest year.

Well, that's not exactly true. Everyone said that the last year of residency would be the hardest. Apparently we made it through that year fine though. Well... that was actually a very trying year that I have mostly tried to forget... but somehow we dug deep enough to invite another year of training. Maybe we wanted to prolong that last year of training? - or double it? Revel in it? Whatever our reasons - or lack of reasoning - we added another year. and my husband is doing a fellowship. And right now, only nine weeks until he is completely finished, things are getting interesting.

We had no idea it could be this challenging.

Mentally. Financially. Emotionally. Physically. Intellectually.

Ok, let's start with the financial aspect of it, (because we all know that financial stress messes with and exacerbates all of the other things listed above).

This is an expensive year. Extremely expensive. We, (well, I - my husband does not agree) should have applied to at least two credit cards last year, when our credit scores were awesome.

We should have sat down and looked at all of the projected expenses for the year. The interview costs (ohmygoodness!), the expenses of the Boards (books, travel, $2,000 exam fee, etc.), moving costs, attorneys fees, licensing fees (how many of these are there??), etc. etc. etc.

Somehow we should have foreseen that our van would need over $5,000 in repairs this year. We also should have predicted that our family would require over $2,500 in dental treatments - (what??? - I know!) We should not have put our two older kids in ski school.

It feels like we are on a roller coaster, but not a very fun one. This roller coaster just continues going down a steep drop. And while we know there is a bottom to our reckless and exhilarating drop, it is not an enjoyable feeling as we now keep waiting and anticipating to hit a curve or a bend... or something - just so that we can take a breath and recoup.

But it doesn't come.

Nine weeks.

So that is my advice. Get an extra line of credit before the last year of training. One with no fees for a year. Or something. Just in case. Maybe you won't have to use it. It'll just be there for you - in case.

The other night my husband said, What are we going to do? I said, Let's just try to be nice to each other.

So we are being nice. And that is good advice too for the last year of training. I think. There is so much going on inside, so many worries, thoughts, expectations, etc. Yes... just be nice to each other.

Am I Too attached?

I'm attached to my kids - apparently.

Last night I had a discussion with a few moms about how we feel about leaving our kids for extended periods of time.  I was the most extreme one in the group.  It is very difficult for me.  I dread planning to leave my kids.  I feel totally sick when it is time to actually say goodbye.  While gone, I miss them terribly.  I am fine for the first few hours, but after one night, I cannot wait to get back to them.

The other moms expressed how easy it is for them, how important it is, and how wonderful it is for them and their marriage relationships.

My husband seemed quite put out.

Afterwards, I wondered why I feel so different.  After having my first child, I remember feeling like I had a permanent attachment - one that I spent enormous amounts of energy on and sacrificed continuously for.  I thought it was normal to have anxiety while separated from him for longer than a few hours.

But, I had to reevaluate last night.

My first thought process involved our current lifestyle, as compared to the other families present for the discussion.  My husband is gone a lot.  He works anywhere from 60-80 hours every week.  His commute ranges from 40-80 minutes per day.  When he is home, he must study for a minimum of 30-60 minutes a day, in order to keep up with the material he will be responsible for to pass his boards.  Combined, he is "not present" 15 hours, every single day.

Honestly, I probably spend a lot more time talking with my kids than I do talking with my husband.  He is always tired, and usually sleeping, while I am putting the kids to bed.  We plan together, solve problems together, play together, eat together, study scriptures together, talk about problems at school together, talk about deep life questions together... without him.

In fact, (my thought process continues), my children seem to have become one of my few constant support systems - even greater than the support my husband provides.  My eight-year old son has lived in seven different homes in four different cities.  My 18-month old has lived in two different homes in two different cities.  Our family life is constantly facing major changes, amidst varying support systems consisting of changing neighborhoods, church associations, and family and friends living nearby.

And my husband continues to be gone for most of it.

I felt justified in this reasoning - though I might also be totally skewed.  It made sense to me.  Part of me wanted to explain this to my husband.  But, the other part of me realized that he would never understand this.  He has an automatic support system with his work.  He always will.  He creates a biking support system wherever we are.  And... I don't think he'll ever feel the almost literal attachment to the children like I do.  Am I wrong in assuming this?

So, right now, and for a while longer probably, my children will be my closest support system.  And, yes, I will likely continue to miss them terribly whenever we are apart for extended periods of time - to my husband's dismay, and others' surprise.

DE-CLUTTERING

So, during hours of debating over what to sell, give away, keep, and store, I turned to the internet for help.

I found this great article about de-cluttering with tips on how to let go of sentimental items. I loved the points made and ideas I got from it, especially about pictures and art done by kids.

I love de-cluttering. It de-stresses me so much. Good thing because we move for residency, again, in less than two months!

TIPS TO LOSE THE MOMMY TUMMY

Short article in Parenting about losing (or hiding) the mommy tummy. It gave me some ideas to work on. My two-year old this morning told me that my tummy "looks like cookies." I'm not sure what that means, but I don't think it is good.