A few of my favorite things

It's been a big year for the Scholzen.Since no one can figure out if the plural of Scholz is Scholzes or Scholzs' or what, we've been dubbed Scholzen in homage to the Germans. But that isn't the point. The point is that lots of good stuff happened to us this year. Really good stuff. So here's my highlight reel... my favorite things if you will. Some old, some new. All special to me but in no particular order.

10) Schlumberger

9) Texas (except the black hole where Wichita Falls sits)

8) my expanding Cole Haan collection

7) rheumatology

6) Jen's annual Christmas visit back to the US

5) caramel-filled double chocolate cookies

4) roommate reunion 3

3) learning to crochet stuff

2) my man's man husband holding our tiny baby girl

1) zipping and buttoning pre-pregnancy jeans on post-partum day 3 (here's hoping for skinny jeans by my birthday!)

Life of pregnant Bethie: The grand finale, part III

Even I'm getting bored with the never-ending story of how Ellison came into the world. So let's make this part short, shall we? Won't be hard. Didn't last long.

My ob enters. Oh, the baby's right there. OK, push with this contraction. Pushing commences.About two minutes later (literally)... abracadabra, alkakazam, and ta-daa! Ellison Avery Scholz was born. 2:43 pm.  Seven pounds on the dot and just shy of twenty inches. Practically a carbon copy (do people even know what those are anymore?) of my baby pictures.. I'd wondered beforehand if I'd cry. Instead I found myself laughing out loud. Nick, too, was beaming from ear to ear. She's here!

And except for the fact that it took my left leg almost 8 hours to wake up (meaning I couldn't walk on it until then), everything in the hospital went perfectly. So now we're home, getting used to being a family of three.

Are you wondering about the final verdict? About whether pregnancy was worth it? Um, yeah. I'm still not saying it was fun because it wasn't. And I'm very happy to be the sole occupant of my body again. But she is a good thing. A very good thing.

Life of pregnant Bethie: The grand finale, part II

Continued...

First of all, can I tell you how weird it is to go from being a doctor to a patient in your own hospital? I pranced up to triage in my white coat and work clothes but got wheeled upstairs in a standard-issue green hospital gown with my stuff in a clear plastic "patient belongings" bag just like everybody else. Weird.
Anyhoo, back to my story. I called my co-fellow from triage to let everyone know I wouldn't be coming to LBJ clinic. But what about the pager? She suggested I call the attending (who was still at Hermann) and ask him to pick it up.
"I am naked from the waist down with Pitocin [oxytocin, the labor hormone] hanging. I don't think so."
We decided I would just keep the pager with me until the other girls finished clinic and came back to the med center. Nick would take a message and/or call the other fellow if anything urgent came up. Sounds good. (By the way, crazy dream right? Had I proceeded to clinic, I totally would have gone into labor there!)
Oh, a contraction. Then another, and another. Not that bad. I can handle this for now. Then they keep getting longer and stronger. OK, time for that epidural. Fortunately, my ob has warned everyone that I'm an MD, so the anesthesia resident talks to me in technical terms, which I appreciate. I finally learn what "a prick and a burn" really feels like [That's what you say when you're injecting lidocaine [local anesthetic) before a procedure because it burns going into the skin.] Eh, not that bad. My guilt that I've been lying to my patients for years is alleviated.
Aaah, finally a little relief. Except I am  quite hungry. I'd much rather be she who decrees than she who receives NPO status [nil per os = nothing by mouth], which is mandatory once labor gets going. Good thing I saw that coming and covertly scarfed a Luna bar in triage. Don't tell! At least I got to enjoy Chik-fil-A vicariously through Nick and Jen.
My co-fellow picks the pager up around 2:00pm. I give her sign-out [the run-down on our patients] from my hospital bed. This really entertains Jen. At least no one can say I slacked off as the pregnant fellow.
And suddenly, oh my, the baby is way, way low, and I am way, way dilated. My ob texts the nurse to just let him know when I'm close because he wants to pick his kids up from practice. She texts back that he better come now.

More to come. While you wait, appreciate all the details about bodily fluids that I'm sparing you.

Life of pregnant Bethie: The grand finale, part I

This is the story of how I became suddenly and irrevocably not pregnant. I find the story so overall entertaining that I'm breaking into multiple parts. Probably three, but don't hold me to that.

Thursday, December 22
I was on "any day now" status per my ob, but I surely didn't feel any different. What was different was that I picked Jen up from the airport the night before. Woohoo! Back from Egypt for two weeks! Before bed, she told me, "Wake me up if you go into labor overnight. I wanna come." I'd had a dream I went into labor during LBJ clinic. Nick laughed at me.
I woke up early early early that morning to round on my Hermann inpatients before heading to LBJ clinic (30 minutes apart). During my drive in, Nick called to ask if I was aware of the giant stain on my side of the bed.
Nope. I wasn't. I felt exactly the same, and she was still moving. Surely my water didn't break. Wouldn't I have noticed? I kinda blew it off. I spent the next hour and a half doing my rounds, checking labs, etc. Then I started to get anxious. About said stain. I even called Jen and called in a BFF favor to get her opinion. Still inexplicable.
So I decided to be that needy, clingy patient and call my ob. Just to see if I should come to the office and get checked. But surely I'm not in labor. He called me back. He thinks my water broke and sends me to triage.
"Just head into the med center. They'll call me when you get here."
"I'm already at the hospital. I've been rounding."
"I'm embarrassed that a rheumatologist beat me to the hospital. I'll head over from my office and meet you there."
He does. Water definitely broken. No contractions. Induction indicated. Boo. "You're gonna have a baby today." Call Nick. Tell your manager today is the day. Jen will drive you.
Oh. My. Gosh. I'm really truly no doubt about it gonna have a baby. Today.

Life of pregnant Bethie meets Battle of the sexes

So this is a story about Nick and me. A story that demonstrates just how well I know my husband. And also about how we are meant to be because no other girl would put up with this, let alone still like him.
We've just gotten back from running errands somewhere. Our garage is too little, so Nick has to let me out in the driveway and then pull into the garage. I walk up between the cars, when Nick points out that he needs to get in the backseat to get the bags. I shimmy back a few steps.

Nick: Maybe you should...
Me: What?
Nick: Uhhhh.
Me: No. I don't think so. Not funny.
Nick: But I didn't say it.
Me: Too mean. Not funny.
Nick: But it is funny.
Me: But that doesn't mean you should say it.
Nick: But I didn't say it!
Me: But you were going to.
Nick: But I didn't.
Me: Sigh.

Are you thoroughly confused because you can't read Nick's mind like I can? Let me elucidate. Nick was thinking it would be appropriate for me to make the backing-up-beeping noise that giant trucks make. Because I'm such a wide load right now. Funny? Perhaps. If it were characters on TV. But despite my self-righteous indignation, even I have to admit... it really is funny. And he's just too darn handsome (in my unbiased, objective opinion) to stay mad at for long.

The end.

Life of pregnant Bethie: The waiting is the hardest part

I told a lie last time. I'm going to talk about babies again. Sorry. Lots of stuff going on at work, but it would require such a detailed (and technical) background explanation that I'm pretty sure I'd just drive you away, never to return to my humble blog.

I could probably also talk about the delicioso y fabuloso Reese's cheesecake bars I made for our Sunday School Christmas party last night. But I have no pictures, and it just wouldn't be fair to talk about something so very incredibly delicioso y fabuloso (and believe me friends, they were) when you can't take a bite yourselves. In a nutshell, Williams-Sonoma cheesecake + 2 bags' worth of chopped Reese PB cups +  PB-chocolate ganache = wonderful goodness.

So I'm left with the baby. And how we're ready for her to be here. When the ob told me Thursday that he thought it would be any day now (and probably not January 6), we got a fire under our butts regarding getting ready for Gizmo. So now the diaper bags are stocked, the hospital suitcase is packed, the carseat is in the car, etc etc. The only thing we don't have... the baby. Everyone at works wants me to sit still and not sneeze so she'll stay inside as long as possible. Nick, on the other hand, wants me doing squats and jumping jacks and suicide sprints because he is impatient, like a kid at Christmas. As a compromise, I'm taking Izzy on a mostly-leisurely walk this morning before church.

Guess we'll see what happens, huh?

Life of pregnant Bethie: The bright side

Sorry for all the pregnancy blogging, kiddos, but I just have baby on the brain. Well, more like baby on the bladder if we're talking literally. But seriously, with all the dancing and grooving she's doing in there, it's hard not to think about her pretty much every waking minute.
If you've talked to me pretty much at all over the last 8 months, you know I'm not the biggest fan of being pregnant. I'm sure she's worth it, blah, blah, babies are great, blah, blah. I don't like being pregnant. But in an attempt to turn that frown upside down, after immense effort I have identified two not-so-bad things about the current situation.

1) Less shedding
It will catch up with me later, but I'm enjoying it for now.

2) Satisfaction for my control-freak side
Yes, I know lots of things beyond my control have been happening lately. But just go with me here... I, more than anyone else, know exactly what's going on with her minute by minute. If Nick were the pregnant one, it could be hours between updates. And I couldn't trust that he'd pay adequate attention to her moving, or his total water intake for the day, or Braxton-Hix contractions, etc etc. But since my brain gets a direct and continuous feed from my uterus, I am never without material over which to obsess. And Nick will tell ya, nothing makes Bethie happy like having something to worry about. :)

Roundabout two weeks and counting. I'll try really hard to think of something else to talk about next time. Until then, peace.

Some rules of baking (and when to break them)

1) Underbake everything by 5 minutes.
Unless it's bread. Gooey bread is gross.

2) Add more vanilla.
Unless you've already doubled the vanilla when you copied the recipe. 2 Tablespoons when it was originally 1 1/2 teaspoons might be overkill.

3) Homemade is always better than pre-packaged.
Unless it's dulce de leche. Just not worth it. As I discovered tonight. See #4, below.

4) Don't bake angry; this leads to incomplete following of directions and guaranteed failure.
Unless you're in such a bad mood that the outcome actually seems funny and breaks your funk. Like tonight, when I didn't put the baking dish of sweetened, condensed milk (supposed to become dulce de leche after 60 minutes in a 425 degree oven) in a water bath, causing it to boil over vigorously and leave black gunk all over the oven and smoke residue on the stove and a haze that's still hanging in the air. Adding too much flour, now that's just kinda annoying. This was hilarious. I mean, hilarious.

Bring on Christmas. Think I'll enjoy my re-discovered Christmas cheer by baking something. Happily.

Great expectations

I arrived home before Nick today and found a couple packages by the front door, one of which was (hear the angels sing) Fannie May candy. Mom sends us a box of Trinidads and a box of Pixies every Christmas. Yum. Forget Girl Scout Cookies; this is the really good stuff.
I called Nick and told him I had a little surprise for him when he got home. A half hour later, he walked through the door, and I presented him with his box o' chocolately goodness.

Nick: Ooooohhh... Nice. Ya know, when you told me you had a surprise, the first thing I thought of was you having the baby.

I guess I'm not the only one with Gizmo on the brain.

PS Exactly one month to our due date! I'm calling December 30.

We've lost the funk

Christmas is coming, but I'm just not feeling it. I don't know why. Maybe it's the 70+ degree temperatures outside. Or the fact that our front yard still looks pitiful, despite Nick's best attempt at dolling it up with Christmas decorations. Or maybe all this focus on the bun in my oven has distracted me. I mean, I'm actually off on Christmas day for the first time in three years. This year should be a big deal. But enthusiasm eludes me.
Maybe a little Christmas baking and tree-trimming will help. If not, I could always try steroids.

Oh, the irony

I saw a commercial for this product for the first time on What Not to Wear last night. You have to click on this link. I mean it. Just do it. Now.
Forever Lazy

Do you think Stacy and Clinton know that this fashion abomination is being advertised in the middle of their show?