Pardon My Absence...

It seems our computer has malfunctioned. Once it is replaced, I will stop wasting time at work putting up lame posts like this, and I can once again blog my usual nonsensical pontifications.

That's What She Said

Today we had a very informative lunch meeting with an electric toothbrush company. I've never really seen toothbrushes in this light before... EVER.

It all began innocently enough. The company rep (a very attractive woman in her late twenties) realized she had forgotten her laptop, which had her entire spiel on its hard drive. She excused herself to run to her car while we got situated and began to eat our lunches. A few moments later, she reentered the room, huffing and puffing.

"Whew! That seemed like it was long! ... That was a LONG, LONG run," she panted. "Does anybody mind if I take my coat off while I recover?"

A few enthusiastic nods from the males in the room... To which she responded in a manner that did not disappoint. Off came the grey pinstripe business suit coat. Beneath: a flesh colored cami and a pair of very perky high beams... BRALESS high beams. "Wow! I just cannot cool off! I am so hot right now!"

The tongues lolling out of their heads could have been mistaken for enthusiasm over their sandwiches, but it was pretty obvious that it was NOT the turkey cold cuts that were directing the guys' attention in the room.

The attending doctor turns to our chief resident and says, "I need to come to these lunch-and-learns more often! They're great! When did we start getting strippers for these things?"

As the presentation went on, her sales pitch was met with rapt attention from her many admirers. To finish things off, she informed us of one of the new features of the improved electric toothbrush she was pedaling. "Notice how nicely this one vibrates compared to the old one? See how this one is so much more vigorous than the other." Now she is holding up the twelve inch long vigorously vibrating hardware to give us an adequate visual. It continues to vigorously vibrate as she exclaims, "OH! And I almost forgot! These things are hermetically sealed! If you need to save yourself some time, you can just take this in the shower with you and do your thing in there!"

Super.

You'll Be a Dentist! You Have a Talent For Causing Things PAIN!

Parking at UCLA for dental appointments: $10

X-rays to start orthodontic treatment: $150

Orthodontic treatment while in residency: $0, but hours and hours of work.

Making your kid sit in the dental chair for two hours with his lips pulled out like a large-mouthed bass and gluing implements of traction and pain to all of his teeth: Priceless!

Yep. That's my oldest son in the chair as the process begins: Nathan is one of my first orthodontic victims... I mean, patients.

All told, Nate was a pretty great patient. He sat still throughout the very lengthy procedure. Even now, he's been amazingly cool about his new metal mouth, though eating is a bit tricky for now. But there's been no whining, "Ow! My teeth hurt! When do I get to get these off? I'm never going to show my face again!" (I actually had a patient go home with a bag over his head on the day we gave him his braces. Yah. That's MUCH less embarrassing than braces!)
Look at that widdle punim! My baby's all growed up!

Orange and black elastics: Very festive for this time of year.

Hayden needed something to do while his brother got all the attention. We cemented a little wire behind his bottom teeth to keep them from crowding, but his procedure was done in about 10 minutes. Luckily, the assistants found a few things to keep him busy... Like playing dress-up with him. Here's Dr. Hayden, complete with "bloody" gloves. Just remember, Hayden: If it doesn't fit, you must acquit!

He looks like he's enjoying this far too much! In fact, as he walked out to the car (still wearing his get-up, mind you), he said to me, "Maybe I will be a dentist when I grow up!" ...Certainly better than the NASCAR driver or hockey player aspirations that have always seemed to be his ultimate goals, but I hope this picture never surfaces while he's in practice!

To My Female Readers Only... Seriously! Chad, Dan, Jason, Bryce, etc. Do NOT Proceed or Things Will Get Awkward Between Us.

Husbands are funny creatures. For some reason I can't figure out, they do not understand buying feminine hygiene supplies. When Wayne and I first married, I discovered this Y chromosomal handicap that prevented him from being able to procure the proper accoutrements when Aunt Flo was coming to town. So, in our newlywed wisdom, we developed a system involving football team names:

• For those very heavy flow days, only Super will do. Super tampons = St. Louis RAMS.
• For moderate flow, Regular tampons. Regular = Washington REDSKINS.
• When the last vestiges of the week remain, I just need some pantyliners or Lite tampons. These = Cleveland BROWNS.

It's never failed.

Usually, though, I buy for myself and spare Wayne the disgrace of purchasing what is OBVIOUSLY for a female loved one. I never understood the shame men feel, but ...Whatever, you wusses! (I mean, it's not like I'm asking him to buy Queen Size Panty Hose, for crying out loud!).

I've learned that the humiliation is not isolated to male consumers purchasing for their desperate housewives. Bag Boys are not immune to the embarrassment. One time when I was very much in need of monthly supplies, while checking out at the grocery store late at night, a squeaky clean young man about 16 years old was bagging my groceries. On the conveyor belt lay four items: Super Tampax, Maxi Pads, Midol, and a value-pak of chocolate confections. The innocent young man (prior to looking at my purchases) addressed me in an oh-so-polite and cheerful manner and said, "How are you doing tonight, Ma'am?". Before I could reply, he glanced down at my supplies, turned beet red, stared blankly at my necessities, and walked away... Without even bagging them.

Someday, in another life, he'll be making those emergency runs for his wife.

Hope she likes football.

Biproducts of Raising Children While Trying To Study A Lot of Random Stuff

I get a lot of questions about how I ever managed to get my biochemistry and DDS degrees while raising kids. First of all, it really doesn't seem that weird to me because I've never really known any different, so I can't really imagine it any other way. Secondly, I am a chronic multitasker.

When I first started back at school and I was still managing apartments to pay the bills, I was considered a full-time employee, a full-time student, and a full-time mom. To illustrate the many hats I had to juggle, I recall an experience that highlighted all the ways I was being stretched:

I was sitting in my office, which happened to be attached to my apartment. It was the first of the month, so there was a lot of traffic coming and going as people came in to pay the rent. I was also trying to study for a midterm exam I had coming up. Hayden was still in diapers, and Nathan was in kindergarten.

So I'm sitting in the office with a biology book on my lap, my shoulder holding a phone to my ear as I was talking to a prospective applicant, another tenant sits waiting on the couch for me to complete my phone conversation, I'm cutting an apple for the boys' afternoon snack with my right hand, Hayden clings to my ankle begging for said snack, and I'm cradling a baby hummingbird in my left hand because Nathan had just rescued it after it had been pushed out of its nest (did I mention I'm a humanitarian, too... *barf*).

I remember that day very vividly because it was my life, personified: Every limb occupied with a different task, trying not to drop the ball in any respect.

Usually, however, life was not so crazy. I actually enjoyed some of my conversations with the boys as they watched me study for various classes about physics, chemistry, and especially anatomy. Sometimes I would even take them to class with me. My boys have both attended lectures at a four year university. Ask them about the time we calculated rotational velocity in physics class. They thought it was a hoot! (They actually did, as the demonstration involved my professor "rotating" a hockey puck through the wall of the auditorium with a formidable slap shot.)

One time, while studying about the brain, Nathan came in and sat next to me as I studied the images carefully, trying to compartmentalize all the various regions and functions of the human "noodle." The cerebellum caught his eye, as its texture and shape look a bit out of the ordinary, comparative to the squiggly grey matter that comprises most of the brain. So I took the time to explain a little bit about it, pointed to its general region on the back of his head, and that was that...

Or so I thought.

Weeks later, as I was helping him wash his hair in the bathtub he points to the same region I had demonstrated to him while conversing about cranial anatomy, and says, "Mommy, don't forget to wash my cerebellum!"

My studies of anatomy were not lost on my (then) three year old Hayden, either. He came to sit with me as I studied about the inner ear. A picture of the cochlea was particularly fascinating to him, as the organ looks like a snail. I explained to him that the cochlea helps us to hear. I then proceeded to explain to him the semi-circular canals, which give us the capability of balancing and, when spun around too much, give us the sensation of dizziness. I figured my toddler was just humoring me, trying to find some time to cuddle with mom, and all the while he was listening to "blah blah blah."

Nope.

Once again, my words came back to me at the oddest of times. Hayden, performing one of his favorite past times, spins himself into oblivion, loses his balance, falls dizzily to the floor, looks up at me and says, "Oh mommy! My cochlea is so messed up!"

So there's proof: Our kids DO listen to us every now and then. You just never know what's going to sink in and make a big impression.

Happy Birthday to Me

Halloween is almost here! Time for creepy movies and trick-or-treating... AND BIRTHDAY CAKE!!! When Wayne first told his mom that I was born on Halloween, she replied, "She's a SPOOKY little girl." Here's a fun little online quiz that confirms her assessment of me.

You Are a Witch

You are deviously brilliant and a perfect manipulator. You somehow always end up getting what you want - without anyone knowing you're working behind the scenes. Crafty and cunning, you can work your way out of any jam. And it's easy for you to get people to do what you want, whether you're working for good or evil. Your greatest power: Mind control Your greatest weakness: Making people your puppets You play well with: Ghosts

What Kind of Monster Are You?

The Wonderousness That is Autumn

As I browse around at friends' blogs in other parts of the country about how "crisp" and "colorful" and "wonderous" their autumn weather is, I am baking away in Southern California in my shorts and flip-flops, staring at the palm trees that never change color. See that map down below? See the "97" in the darkish red spot? Yah...That's me. That's where I live.

Yay global warming.

The World According to Shana

I have a host of very weird quirks. I don't notice them anymore. Wayne thinks most of them are cute. But most of my acquaintances don't ever notice the internal dialog that goes on when any number of situations crosses my path. So consider yourselves privileged (though perhaps a bit frightened) to enter the madness within me. Here are the rules of my world:

• One must NEVER say the following: I haven't had a cold/parking ticket/speeding ticket/jury summons in so long! As soon as you say such ill-fated mumbo jumbo, you have doomed yourself, and will be unable to truthfully say such things in about a week.


• If you say, "Traffic is not bad today," you will find the road ahead of you has suddenly jammed itself into parking lot status.


• Food should be eaten very carefully. Whatever you are eating, you should try to nibble away at it until you have composed the "perfect bite." This means that as many elements of a dish that make it yummy should be corralled into a center piece and eaten as a grand finale of culinary ecstasy contained in a single bite. For example, pizza should be eaten in the following manner: First, bite off the floppy, pointy part at the end. Next, tear most of the crust off and eat it, but save yourself a little piece in the corner to hold onto. Eat most of the rest of the pizza from the fat side. Finish with the bite that has the most toppings, usually somewhere in the middle of the piece. (Incidentally, my sister eats her pizza this way too, and we formed this weird little ritual independent of one another.)


• Before bed, the following routine must be carefully performed each night: Get into jammies. Take out contacts. Brush teeth for two minutes. Drink a big glass of water. Pee. Wash hands. Wash face. Put lotion on face. Put on glasses. Put body lotion on legs and feet. Wash hands again. Put chapstick on. Drink another glass of water. Set alarm. Read or watch a movie until the sandman comes calling. Always keep covers on, even if it's 90 degrees outside (just don't put the covers on your feet when it's hot.)


• When talking on the phone, rock back and forth as though you had a sleeping infant in your arms. If you are feeling particularly energetic, wander through the house at the same time. But whatever you do, don't sit still!


• Solve a sudoku puzzle when you are sitting through a long, boring lecture. It is impossible to sit and listen to "blah blah blah" without doing something with your hands. Numbers and doodles are great, but NEVER crossword puzzles.


• When too tired, never try to use your thumbs. They won't function.


• When very annoyed, wiggle your feet back and forth in a perturbed, fidgety manner. When relaxed, circle your ankles back and forth in a contented fashion.


• While sleeping, scrunch up your face like an angry old man. The crease developing on your forehead will abate itself with Botox someday.


• Always, ALWAYS keep your pinkie up when drinking a beverage.

I fear if I post any further idiosyncrasies, I will have made too clear a case for my neuroses. What are some of your weirdest quirks?

Aaaaah. I Needed That...

For those of you unfamiliar with all things Mormon, this was a weekend of the proverbial recharging of the batteries: General Conference. What it entails, is hearing the thoughts of very wise and inspired men and women who offer words of upliftment and counsel. This is something that transpires on a global level twice a year. Every time General Conference rolls around, I think to myself, "Wow. Almost two full days of churchiness. Am I going to be able to pay attention for that long?" And with every session, I then think to myself, "Wow! I really needed to hear that! I'm glad I listened."

What astounds me each time I hear from the leaders of our church, is how a small consortium of little old men in Utah can be so in touch with our time. They address the issues of our society as it relates to today's challenges. While I love to read the Bible and the Book of Mormon, I feel doubly uplifted by the words of our living prophets.

Of particular note today, was the talk given by President Thomas S. Monson about gratitude. I have a strong testimony that gratitude leads to a much closer relationship with God, and our prophet articulated those sentiments perfectly at the conclusion of this morning's session. Here are my thoughts on the subject: God has given us all that we have, and every little thing that we recognize as coming from His hand, will strengthen our understanding of His love.

Another talk today that seemed particularly poignant was one that focused on overcoming trials through our relationship with Christ. Realizing that our Savior overcame all when he suffered for us in the Garden of Gethsemane, has always put my paltry little problems in perspective. For those of you who don't know, this crash on our economy has put my ability to continue in my residency in jeopardy, and this has been weighing on our minds quite heavily. But suddenly my burdens feel much lighter, and I feel resolute in my faith that whatever happens, it will be for the best.

If you've read this far, thank you for indulging me. I know this is an unusual little break from my posts on pasties and periods, but this may offer another little insight into my perplexing personality. I hope you've all had as great a weekend as I have. Now, on to this week's challenges!

I'm A Pretty, Pretty Princess... But I Don't Wear Sea-Shell Pasties

If this whole pediatric residency thing doesn't work out for me, I have a back up career in mind: I figure Disney might want to hire me.

You see, in the Children's Dental Center, I am Ariel: Able to woo frightened little girls into relaxing through their dental procedures. I have even been requested to leave my own patient in order to help my colleagues in another room when they have a particularly scared patient of their own.

So how did this remarkable talent surface?

One of my co-residents asked me to assist her with a three year old patient one day. "She screamed and cried during the entire exam last time she came in, and now I need to give her a filling. I just need someone to help contain her while I slap the material in her tooth as fast as I can," she pleaded.

When I walked into the "quiet" room (which, for anybody who doesn't understand that euphemism, should more appropriately be called the "Screaming" room) , a beautiful wide-eyed little Hispanic girl was perched in the seemingly giant dental chair, looking like she was ready to bolt out of the room at the first sign of trouble. BOTH of her parents were holding her hands, and her blankie was on her lap. She was wearing sparkly shoes adorned with the Little Mermaid, with a shirt to match, and socks, and her blankie, and a hair clip... all of which was covered with the love-lorn bikini-clad princess.

So I just started singing a refrain from (what certainly appeared to be) her favorite movie. "Look at this stuff. Isn't it neat?" and I held up a mirror. "Wouldn't you think my collection's complete?" ...and the girl had suddenly loosened her grip on the blankie and was staring, slack-jawed at me. Mom and Dad were easily able to convince her I was the ACTUAL Ariel from the movie, come to help fix her teeth (despite the fact that I had blonde hair instead of fiery red, and I had obviously traded my shell-shaped pasties for dumpy, bluish-gray scrubs). For the rest of the appointment, I just kept singing while handing the other dentist the equipment she needed. And for the rest of the appointment, our little patient was completely entranced and never uttered a peep. She even left smiling.

So from that time forward, I have been met with, "Hey, Ariel! Can you give me a hand?" ...and I'm off to one screaming kid after another to soothe the savage little beasts with a tune or two.

I really need to expand my repertoire, however. I have yet to find anything that works for boys as well as "Part of Your World" works for girls. Somehow I don't think Mulan's "Be a Man" would have quite the same effect on screaming little boys.