Let the Wild Rumpus Start.
The big event this week was Scott's board exam on Wednesday. He said it went okay, which translates to it went well. When Scott says that he "bombed" a test, it usually means that he got a "B" instead of an "A." I'm sure he will roll his eyes and protest this, but I'm sure he did very well. Now that that's out of the way, he starts full-time in the hospital on Monday. He is excited. Giddy even. We watched Boston Med, a docu-drama on TV profiling real stories from the hospitals in Boston, and Scott could hardly go to sleep that night. He's ready.
Bruce is enjoying the summer "vee-cay-shun," as he calls it. Now that preschool is finished for the year, he has a bucket list of things to do. This week we've hiked, picked blueberries, visited the Museum of Science, and gone to a splash park a few times. He signed up for the summer reading program at the library and is determined to win all the erasers and bouncy balls.
Phoebe is eight months old and getting fun. She is ticklish. She babbles and smiles. She recognizes her name and gets excited. She is sleeping for longer stretches; not quite through the night, but I'll take six hours.
All in all, life is good but crazy. I'm still hunting for just the right job with the right hours, pay, and location. Scott's year of random hours in the hospital begins tomorrow. Let the wild rumpus start.