Vaporous

We had a nice, relaxing weekend.

Wait. No we didn't. We entertained on Saturday night after the boys' soccer games (when we sat in -40 degree winds for 3 hours). I made steak and chicken fajitas, 7-layer dip, guacamole, salsa verde, and oreo cake. Cooking, for me, is therapeutic.

We had an extra boy in the house last night. Oh how I wish I could get a little tickle every time I heard a fart like they can. Avery, then Peyton, then Friend, "Hey, Brady.... *fart sound*." Laughter eruption. Repeat: Avery, then Peyton, then Friend, "Brady, Brady, here's a good one... *fart sound*." This went on. for. hours.

Could I evoke joy spontaneously from bodily expulsions, it may be somewhat inappropriate at certain times, but could also be beneficial. I can just see my radiology examiner showing me a case for my oral boards four years down the road, me feeling overwhelmed, my bowels doing their ritual jive when I get nervous, me inching out a cute little toot (the only kind I make) to ease the mood and exchange the overwhelming feeling of death with pure joy, and then me erupting into laughter. This may or may not have happened during my med school interview and that went just fine.

Abort. I have no idea what I'm talking about.

Speaking of radiology, I've been LOVING my pediatric radiology month. I think it's a great sign that I never, ever, ever want to leave the department. I'm strongly debating putting up a good fight when I have to *shudder* return for my final month of trauma surgery in May. In my mind it goes like this: me squatted in a dark corner of the reading room with arms crossed, shouting, "You can't make me! I'm telling! Mom!" I promised these people I'd do my best. I never promised I'd be mature about it. (See paragraph above about farts for an illustration of my maturity.)

Exciting news that makes me really, really sad: Avery has his first loose tooth. I asked him, quite politely I might add, to stay his spunky six year old self for ever and ever. My heart hurts.

Today, Peyton and I were watching Planet Earth (big fan. awesome show. this post maybe the most random ever. sorry.) and he was, of course, making himself every animal that came on, "Mom, I'm that monkey." "Mom, I'm that snow leopard." "Mom, I'm that bird." Me, "You're an oriental pheasant?" Peyton, who is obsessed with the letter P for obvious reasons says, "Yes, that starts with a P." Props to the pre-K computer program that's teaching him this stuff. Who knew. I thought it started with F. Heh.