Pontificum Scriblerus

Leaves fall, lights dim, mice die. Why try when I know No- vember brings failure? A swatch of sky and rain. How you throw dirt over a sinking feeling! The sun, a magic number, arbitrarily looms in the distance... The clock is ticking, wasting time, what harvest will I reap? How foolish! It's dark, where am I, how did I come to be here? Don't know. Will I stay?

Everyone should read this article in detail. http://www.nytimes.com/2011/06/12/opinion/12sibert.html Opinion Don’t Quit This Day Job By KAREN S. SIBERT Published: June 11, 2011 For female doctors, the decision to go part time isn’t just personal; it has consequences for patients and the public. Afterwards, should read http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/wont-hurt-bit/201106/the-mommy-wars-medical-edition. The bottom line is this: the top article's writer, a female anesthesiologist from California, asserts that the fact that female physicians are choosing to work part-time is hurting patients and the economy, and has a negative impact overall on a societal level. She plainly suggests that women need to choose between being a doctor or being a mother, and that both is not possible. The bottom article writes an intelligent response. I applaud Dr. Au, the latter writer, for keeping her wits about her enough to write an eloquent response, when the only thing I could say after I read Dr...

There is diaper smell everywhere. EVERYWHERE. Toys, little sock balls, yesterday's pajamas and boxes of wipes trip me up when I try to go to the bathroom at night or make my coffee in the morning. Tiny fingerprints and banana boogers on my computer screen. Cheerios crunching on the floor with each step. Gates and clips that are not only baby-proof but also Sasha-proof. Freshly folded laundry dumped out and strewn about. Hundreds of fingerpaint art pieces on the fridge, above the fireplace, in every drawer.

I blinked, and suddenly, the entire month of May disappeared, and I have not written a word for this blog. It seems my creative energies are directed elsewhere. To the same place most of my energies are directed these days - the baby. So, May is gone, and with it, several things have turned. For example, I just did my very last weekend call as a fellow. That's it. No mas. All the blood, and the sweat, and the tears... Also, today I got out one of my old 34D size bras. While hefty by most standards, after two years of unthinkable top-heaviness, I felt so small, almost athletic, basically, flat chested! I was ready to fly, lifted upwards toward the sun by my suddenly light breasts. Well - "suddenly" is, of course, far from accurate, as I have been dwindling my nursing for months, unable to give it up completely. It's because the baby uses me as a human pacifier, and being an attention junkie, and addicted to unconditional adoration, I've been loving it. Ex...