My life continues to revolve around my late afternoon, long distance phone call from DH declaring whether he likes a program. I spend the whole day wrapping my mind around a certain locale, researching it like a CIA operative only to have it either dispelled or survive as a potential outcome. Truly nerve wracking. Fortunately, DH really liked a program close to our home town and they all but came out and told him the spot was his for the taking. We''ll see how this all goes down. Six interviews left. Allegedly one of the programs remaining give applicants a sewing test . I can tell you this is going to fly all over DH.

One of my great fears about our impending move is my son''s ability to transition. I hear stories on this site of kids not adjusting to new locales and I just cringe in empathy. I am manifestly aware that this could be my family''s story next.

He is in such a great place right now. Everything about his school is fabulous. He''s got an exceptional teacher who works with him instead of against him. He has inherited his mom and his dad''s intensity as well as our sense of ironic humor. Fortunately, his teacher, a veritable saint of a woman, thinks he''s darling instead of a hyper class clown/ troublemaker. I damn well know that this could work against him in another environment. I don''t want this fear to create a self-fulfilling prophecy, but I know that his current experience is a gift that can never be replicated. I just pray to God that he can have a decent transition and experience wherever we move. Unfortunately, we will probably only be in our next locale for two years before another move again. Gulp. I''m hoping this creates a life long adaptability. Fingers crossed.

Ironically, baby girl will not remember the State of her birth. She is in an o.k. situation which is teeming with the basic issues of most child care arrangements: blurred boundaries, overlooking small issues because the big issues are met, etc. I have had the full range of issues with my daycare provider. We''ve been together almost six years now and have survived some hard conversations.

DD should transition o.k. because she is young and has a sweet, easy going personality. Although I have to admit that I recently caught her toddling up to her big brother and striking him across the face with a closed fist. Of course, he slyly sticks out a foot to trip her while pretending that he had no such intention.

Lord only knows what I''m not seeing. Ah, sibling rivalry begins.

In other news, we''re approaching that time of year where I have to make a decision, which has never been my strong suit.

In late April, I have to decide whether I will train for the Twin Cities Marathon. When I run a marathon, I am a goddess. I am confident, capable, and it is all about me. Joan Benoit Samuelson, a girlhood heroine of mine, actually ran in the same field with me last time. (Of course she finished 2 hours earlier than me, but that''s beside the point). Seriously, running a marathon is a near religious experience. I''ve even toyed with the idea of "stunt running" (i.e. in costume) to get even more people to cheer me on.

Yup, I''m all about the glory.

While the marathon is like a block party, the training can be a royal PITA. Sometimes I wonder, why can''t I just be normal and enjoy my last summer chilling in the Twin Cities. What''s wrong with me? I am the wife of a PGY6 general surgery resident who is hellbent on more training. I am a working mom. Do I need more challenges? Seriously. Do I have some psychotic need for self punishment in the form of five a.m. 15 milers? I could run the companion race, a ten-miler, and just skate it out. Still, I know these two events are nowhere near the same high. Anyway, I have to decide soon. Perhaps we''ll put it to a vote here and then I can abdicate my decision making.

There is always the possibility that I''m stressing out about this decision because in reality, so much is out of my hands right now. Argh.