Max's To-Do List
1. Get born. Check.
2. Discover a magic hat. Check.
3. Defeat bullies who snatch the magic hat. Uh-oh...

A heart-warming picture book about a boy who takes on the bullies--and wins!

Winner of the Best Children's Literature award, sponsored by the Cornwall Public Library and the Cornwall and Region Writer’s Society.

This is the story about a plucky emergency doctor giving birth to two healthy babies—and all the whacked-out stuff that happens in between.

When I read other 'mumoirs', I laugh at the universal truisms: yep, tired. Ooh, a poopy diaper. But look, baby's smile! So worth it. Whoops, I'm pregnant again!

Is that my 20,000-word tale?

I wish.

Yes, I change diapers. Cloth diapers! And my husband changes more than his fair share.

But mostly, I'm an ecstatic new Momzilla carting my infant around as death and disease stalk and smite my family. Meanwhile, I'm just trying to save lives and conceive another baby.

Warning #1: this book is less about official doctor-ing and more about my unbalanced life (but funny! And plucky! Did I mention plucky?).

Warning #2: I wrote it as prose poems because I think poems are an excellent way to distill life into sharp, memorable lines. Also, thanks to babies and medicine, I hardly have my hands to myself, except when I'm sleeping. Poems are short. And I still need to sleep.

Come on in.

I have always yearned to visit Africa.

I want to watch lions prowl in their natural habitat. I want to gaze into an elephant’s eyes and witness a wise matriarch who has traversed the continent. I want to sit quietly with the silverback gorillas.

Instead, I finished medical school and residency, got married, and had kids. I dreamed of Africa, but figured it would stay a dream for another decade, until my teacher friend, Becky, said, “My school is going to South Africa. You could come.”

This is a short book of poems, mixed with occasional prose, about my travels in South Africa and Swaziland. From visiting a Mom and Baby clinic and surfing in Jeffrey’s Bay, to dissecting an impala in Moholoholo, to shopping in Swaziland, and culminating in a safari in Kruger National Park. Almost 100 percent as a tourist, instead of as a doctor. And that’s okay. As the African proverb goes, “Travel teaches how to see.”