More Table Talk

Sitting around the table is a very refreshing thing to do together as a family; something we've always cherished and been committed to. Of course, when MH was in residency, it was rare.  Often I found myself sitting alone at the table or with my little daughter (pleasant, but missing something). So I'm definitely glad we're passed that era in our life and able to look forward to more predictable table time together.

Of course, as previously mentioned, along with table time comes interesting conversations or amusements. Let me explain. I'm a woman who loves cloth napkins; I guess you could say I collect them. In fact, during residency, my actual kitchen curtains were made out of them--cute little yellow striped napkins hanging down in cafe' style.

It wasn't until recently that I realized cloth napkins can serve even more purposes than the common ones (wiping hands, curtains, etc.)  MH happened to have some stitching supplies, and for some odd reason after dinner, he decided to pull it out and start stitching up those very same cloth napkins! Not only did he do this, but he started teaching our little daughter how to do it too! (you see, I actually got used to this in medical school when I'd find a series of stitches hanging from random objects--a chair, a pillow, etc., while my husband was practicing his knots). But now I'm a mom, so I found myself issuing warnings like, "Be careful, that needle is really sharp!" to which, of course, neither of them listened.

So I still haven't ripped those stitches out of that napkin...I keep hoping one of those two get that particular napkin at dinner and laugh about it.  So far, I'm the one who keeps getting it.

Table Talk

I'm sure for most families, the talk around the dinner table can take some pretty unique twists and turns, depending upon the father's trade. Perhaps the cobbler has a tale or two of the man with the biggest feet who stepped into his shop today. Or perhaps the roofer's employer fell off his ladder and broke his leg. Or maybe even the produce salesmen found out he sold a bad batch of celery. Lots of interesting table conversation, to be sure.

Well so it is with our family.  For instance, you might think that a baked potato seems innocent enough; just a little spud staring up at you, ready for the knife, the butter, and the smashing.  Not much to say about it, right? Just eat it!  Oh, but not for this family--not for this father, to be more specific.

So we had baked potatoes last week, and before I knew it, MH was performing surgery on it.
"See, this is how I cut into a Mommy's tummy; just in and straight down, like so.  You want to try it?" Yep, that's definitely one way to have your table talk take a turn.  It was a bit hard to swallow that particular potato after all that imagery, but the girls seemed amused.

Thus it is for a doctor's wife--the ordinary becomes extraordinary, and perhaps I'll never look at another baked potato in the same way.

Table Talk

This is a photo of my kitchen table.  I love it.  For me it represents so much-- the intersecting of lives, passions, hobbies... (can you see it?  craft scissors, kitchen scissors, and a needle driver; surgical gloves, lidocaine, fabric, and tissue paper...hmmm, what was going on that night?)  And this is my life.  My husband is a gynecologist.  When I first met him,  he wanted to be a doctor, but was leaning towards a completely opposite field (one that deals with the sinuses!).  Oh how the tables have turned!  (probably a good thing, for as he says, "If a high school boy wants to be a gynecologist, something's wrong with him.")

Needless to say, it seems I've always been faced with this challenge: how to merge my life with my husband's; how to embrace his world, and even bring something to it; how to enjoy his "shop talk," when we're socializing with his colleagues; how to explain to my children what in the world their Daddy does; how to feel confident about my career choice when I'm face to face with women who've chosen a very different one.  And alas, all this is hard.  

But through it all, I feel like I have a story to tell, a journey to describe.  Thus begins this blog.