Don't let the turkeys get you down

My father was fond of saying, "Don't let the turkeys get you down." He'd usually quickly add, "Gobble! Gobble!" and a big smile.  Shortly before Father's Day one year, I found a button (it was the '80s)  with an illustration by Sandra Boynton. A somewhat clumsy-looking elephant was pinned down by a rafter of clueless turkeys.

 As a kid, I had a vague idea of what Dad meant. I thought of it as "don't get sad about things idiots do  or say to you." As a parent, I've hoped to instill a sense of resilience in my children. Life has many upsets and learning to roll with it--to adapt--is a valuable skill. It just seems that, at times, the turkeys are just a little too close to home.

Dozens of congratulations popped up on my wall when I posted my acceptance to Facebook last week. It felt great. It reminded me of the many people who have been cheering me along the way over the past few years as I headed back to school and prepped to apply. One person made a comment reminding me not to forget my kids while I was in medical school. Nice. I just shrugged it off. I've been a mom long before getting into medical school, and I'll be a mom long after finishing medical school. That turkey didn't get me down.

But then Christmas happened. Or, rather, dinner at my in-laws happened.

On the way to their house, my 14-year-old daughter asked, "Mom, are you going to tell Grandma that you've been accepted to medical school."

"I don't know if I'll bring it up," I answered. "When I told Grandma and Grandpa a few months ago that I was applying, they just kind of stared at me." I thought for a moment. "Yes. Definitely. If they ask, I'll tell them."

"What if they don't ask?"

"Well, I guess that means they don't care. Maybe?" and I just shrugged my shoulders.

I've been struggling this week with the idea of going to school out-of-state. Moving means losing so many familiar things, especially for my kids.  My father's parents were gone before I was born and my mother's parents lived on the other side of the country. With both of my parents gone, it has been important to me to make time for my kids to see their grandparents who live just an hour away.

Not too surprisingly, my in-laws did not ask me how the application process was going. Back in October, I explained to them that I already took the classes and the "big exam." My applications were turned in and I was waiting for invitations to interview at places that might be interested in me. Hopefully, medical school would be part of my near future. "What are you going to do with that?" my father-in-law had asked.

So when it came time to get our coats back on and head out the door after the visit, I had a very odd feeling. I didn't want to keep a secret from them, especially if it meant we would be moving, but I also didn't want them to burst my bubble. Then my husband spoke. "Guess what? Vieve just got the best Christmas present imaginable, and it wasn't from me."

My mother-in-law's face lit up. She leaned in, "What was it?"

"She just got accepted to medical school," and he put his arm around me.

Suddenly, I felt swept away with excitement. "Yeah. I had three interviews last month, and I was really afraid I wouldn't hear back from any schools before Christmas, but Med School in Another State let me know on Friday that I was accepted and I'll even get a scholarship, and I'm just so excited!"

She leaned back and looked perplexed. "Are you going to do that online?"

Pop.

"Um," I couldn't help but smile a little, "there are no online medical schools in the country." Feeling a bit confused, wondering if they were a bit confused, I added, "I'm going to be an MD."

My father-in-law spoke up. "You know what 'MD' stands for, don't you?"

He was standing directly behind me, so I turned around to meet his smiling face. He always has a corny joke to tell, and I thought that it might help take the edge off of the disappointment I felt. I smiled broadly, "No, what?"

"Mostly Dumb. After all, they can only practice and never get it right."

I just hugged him and said, "Merry Christmas."

I hugged my mother-in-law, too, and thanked her for dinner. My sister-in-law and her husband were also standing by the doorway and had said nothing so far. She just looked at me and said, "Uh. That's exciting news."  I gave them good-bye hugs as well.

Maybe it isn't fair of me to expect them to be excited about this. Maybe they are just deeply concerned about the welfare of my children, like the aforementioned Facebooker. Maybe they're just turkeys.