Wouldn't It Be Refreshing?

On tonight's episode of Grey's Anatomy, there was a patient who had a brain tumor. This wasn't just a brain tumor, this particular tumor made him say exactly what he thought. It didn't matter if it was rude, vulgar, or just plain wrong, he would say it. He would speak the truth and say exactly what he thought. For one day, I would love to be this brain tumor guy. I could say things that I would never normally say. I could tell people exactly how I felt with no fear of what would happen. I could say exactly what I thought and wouldn't have to feel bad about it. I worry far too much about hurting others feelings. For one day to be able to just spew out anything and everything would be so refreshing. Granted, the brain tumor guy died while McDreamy was operating on him, but still, one day of verbal diarrhea would be nice.

What If...

I was driving home from SLC today after eating lunch with Marcus. Christian was watching a great Elmo movie (I use the term "great" very loosely) and I was extremely tired and bored. So I got to thinking about all the "What If's" in life? What if I would have stayed in Vernal and not moved out to the "big city" after high school? I would live on a farm, milking cows in the morning and working at Wal-Mart in the afternoons. What if I would have pursued what I thought was, at the time, the love of my life? I would be babyless, penniless and probably living out of a cardboard box by now. What if I would have not sent Marcus the famous email? He would never have been manly enough to ask me out on his own. What if I didn't fall madly, deeply, head over heels for Marcus and wanted to spend the rest of forever with him? I wouldn't have any one to give my a hard time about my cankles, my adam's apple, my obsession with Grey's Anatomy, or my BIG mistake of spending $100 on TMX Elmo. I also wouldn't have anyone to make me feel as special and wonderful as he does every single day. What if I wouldn't have had a miscarriage or failed attempts at infertility treatments? I wouldn't have the most beautiful, most wonderful, funniest little boy in the world who can just look at me with his big, brown eyes and melt my heart. So I decided today that life takes you down the paths that you are meant to be on. Sometimes life seems to be awful, horrible and down right sucky. But things seem to always work out the way they are suppose to be. I could sit for hours and think about all the what if's in life and all the different paths and places I could be right now, but I am perfectly happy right now where I am.

Why 9 Inch Cankles?

I have had several people want to know why I gave my blog the name of "9 Inch Cankles". There isn't much behind it other than my husband thinking he is pretty funny. About a month ago, Marcus and I decided we wanted to start being healthier then we currently were. We each set a goal and if we met it by Dec.1, we each got a reward. My reward was money to go shopping. I will do whatever it takes to go shopping. In order to set my individual goals, I measured parts of my body where I would like to see weight disappear. I made some comment about having cankles. (If anyone does not know what a cankle is, it is when your calf and foot meet with out much change.) I have never really been over weight or unhealthy; I am just blessed with thick ankles. So we measured my ankles and Marcus' ankles, and yes, mine were bigger...9 inches around. Then later on, Marcus made some crack to my sister about how I should maybe join a support group about my cankles and it could be called 9 inch cankles.com. (Like I said earlier, HE thinks he's funny...I never said I did.) I had been thinking about doing a blog for awhile and thought it would be unique to make that my name, so I did....I wish there was a cooler story behind it. But I am very glad that Marcus and I have started to be healthy. It isn't a diet we are doing, it's a complete lifestyle change. (Especially for me) I have never had to watch what I eat or really even cared. I will be the first to admit that I am pretty vain; I won't leave the house without my hair or makeup done. I was starting to feel fat and ugly and needed a change. (We all have those days, right? RIGHT?!) I get tired of people who always complain about something that they are the only ones that can do anything about. I didn't want to become one of those people, so I decided to do something about it. Since we have started this, we both feel so much better. I have lost 9 pounds and two sizes since the beginning. Marcus said he didn't think I needed to lose anything, but he supports me in anything I do. It's much easier to eat healthier when you have someone to do it with. Now I feel better and just need to get off my lazy behind and exercise...I just love my sleep too much!

I belong in a Biology Class...

I feel like everything I do as a parent is examined under a microscope. I don't know if this is a normal feeling for parents, moms in particular, or if in my unique situation, I am observed more closely than most. Any decision, regardless of how small or big it is, is completely dissected and studied. Any comment I make is thoroughly analyzed. I don't know if it is because I have not given birth to any of the children I raise or help raise, or if it's because I have never had an infant to raise. (For anyone who does not know me personally: I have two step-daughters who are eight and nine. They were five and six when Marcus and I got married. Then we adopted Christian in Feb. And he was 12 months old at the time. As you can see, I have a very unique situation.) I also have to wonder if I get viewed as a "real" parent sometimes. I know that all parents get unsolicited advice, especially with your first child, but it feels like more then that to me. I went to school to get a degree in Integrated Studies. One thing I was studying was Child Development/Child Care. I do feel like every once in awhile I do know what I am talking about and what I am doing; not all the time, but once in a while. I get no credit for my knowledge. I know as a parent you have to change the way you act, the way you talk, the way you behave a lot of the times. Things are different when you suddenly have another person who is your complete responsibility. You are responsible to teach this child how to treat others and how to be a good, decent person in a scary, messed up world. I personally don't think I am doing that awful of a job, but with comments and suggestions I sometimes receive, I can't help but doubt every little move I make. Instead of feeling like a frog in the Biology class, I want to feel like the teacher of that Biology class: proud of what she is teaching and all that she has taught to the ones she cares for.

I Love "Happy Thursday"!!

My husband is wonderful!! He has started his own little holiday just for me. The first Thursday in September is "Happy Thursday". This started three years ago with a simple phone call. He was at work and I was home not having a very great day. He told me I needed to come to the mall (where our restaurant is) as soon as I could. I got there and Marcus gave me a gift certificate to get a manicure and a pedicure. I love things like that!! He also gave me a Happy Thursday card; he got a Happy Birthday card and crossed out Birthday and put Thursday. I thought it was just a nice thing he had done for me and never thought he would think of it again. I was wrong. Last year, he gave me a laptop. It is my favorite present he has ever given me (other then my ring) and I use it ALL the time. Then this year, he gave me another great gift. He gave me a gift bag that was full of FUN stuff. There were chocolate covered strawberries (even though I am trying to give up sugar), a gift card to Old Navy and my favorite gift this Happy Thursday was the Season 2 DVD set of Grey's Anatomy. Happy Thursday is better than my birthday or Christmas. It is just a nice, little thing he does just for me just because. He spoils me on all the holidays and every day in between, but Happy Thursday is my favorite.

Normal?! Seriously?!?!

We took Christian to the doctor today to follow up on his little episode from this weekend. The doctor answered all our questions and was very informative about the whole thing. However, she did say it was normal and to expect Christian to have more seizures. NORMAL?? How normal is it to watch your little boy shake uncontrollably and not be able to breath? That is not my definition of normal. She also recommended to us that we get certified in CPR so if we need to, we know how to give Christian mouth to mouth. Train me all you want, but when my baby can't breath you honestly expect me to be able to stay calm enough to remember jack-diddly-squat??? Seriously?!! So being the OCD freak that I am: I have made special instructions for Christian that we can hang on the fridge, put in his diaper bag, and to give to day care; I have made arrangements to get me and Marcus certified in CPR; I have bought two new thermometers to put one in his diaper bag and one at home; and if you thought I was picky before about who I get to babysit, you ain't seen nothing yet.

Oh What A Night!!

Just when I start to complain that my life is boring....I end up eating my own words. Last night Marcus and I went to a football game in Logan and watched the Utes slaughter USU. We took Christian to Grammy Jean's while we went to the game. I had a surprisingly good time watching the game and would be willing to even go again. After the game we stopped by Marcus' mom's house to pick up Christian and for Marcus to fix her computer. Christian was acting completely fine-playing and getting into everything. Marcus was on the couch with him tickling and playing with him and Christian started to cry. He wouldn't stand up or calm down and then Marcus noticed that his eyes had rolled up into the back of his head. Christian started to have a seizure. He had one back in May and it scared me to death; this one was no different expect for thankfully I wasn't alone this time. After the shaking stopped we thought it was over, but then Christian stopped breathing. It wasn't for long, but it was long enough to make my world stop. I honestly thought I was watching my baby die in his daddy's arms. We were getting ready to give him CPR (thankfully Grammy Jean is a nurse) when he started to take short shallow breaths. It seemed like it took forever to get the ambulance there and for the EMTs to take over. They took me and Christian in the ambulance to the hospital and Marcus followed in the van. I can now say I am an official mommy; I have had Christian's pee on me, his poop on me, and last night, he threw up all over the both of us in the ambulance. To spare everyone all the medical mumbo jumbo they did when we arrived at the hospital and as my mom would say "to make a long story short", Christian is okay and they think the seizure was brought on by his fever....Which we didn't even know he had since it was so minor. The doctor said to expect him to have seizures when he gets a fever until he is about five or six. I thought I was a paranoid freak before, you just wait and see how bad I get now. I will now not leave the house without a GOOD, WORKING thermometer and baby tylenol. I will also be freaked out to leave him with anyone other than Marcus. So I take back what I said about my life...I would much rather have a boring life then to relive an experience like last night.

It's Sad...Really

The other day I put Christian in a pair of pants that ended up looking more like capris, and boys just shouldn't do capris. So I decided that it was time to go through his closet and put some clothes into storage for possible use later. It was really sad. We all ready missed out on the first year of his life, and now he thinks he needs to keep growing. I know that we brought Christian home when we did for a reason, but when I really think about everything we missed, it breaks my heart. His first smile, his first tooth, the first time he crawled or rolled over...all the little things that add up to great big things. All the milestones we have experienced with him have been incredible, but I still can't help but feel a little empty. I think I treasure every cute thing he does and every "1st" more then most parents do with their own children because of that. But to have to admit he is growing up as quickly as he is really stinks...so I am going into denial. He is still my baby...I just have to find a way to convince Christian of that.

Monica & the Stinking, Rotten, Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day...

If I would have known what kind of day I was going to have when my alarm went off yesterday morning, I so would not have gotten out of bed at all. I was suppose to paint Taylor's fingernails on Sunday; that didn't happen...Then it was suppose to be Tuesday...Yah, that didn't happen either. So I started to feel guilty that I kept having to tell her no. Because I am a pushover, we got up at 7:00 this morning to paint fingernails. Then after they were painted, she wanted decals on them that covered her whole finger...So painting them was not necessary. Then as Christian and I were leaving to go meet Marcus for lunch in SLC, I tripped over my shoe (they were cute, just not good ones to be carrying a baby with) while holding the baby. So of course the motherly instinct kicks in and I have to protect him from falling which leaves me nothing to brace myself with. So I end up hitting my head on the corner of the van door and now I am left with a HUGE goose egg on my head and an even BIGGER headache. Taylor comes home from school totally hysterical. She was bitten by a neighbor's dog while riding her scooter home from school. So we had to clean her leg, talk to the neighbors, deal with animal control; it was loads of fun. After I think things are calming down, Jessi decides she needs to stub her toe to the point of nasty; blood, missing nail, the works. During all this after-school fun, Christian is up in his crib (suppose to be napping) screaming his lungs out because he was locked up in his room all alone with no one to give him attention. My old boss from the eye doctor called and offered me my old job back. The selfish side of me really wants to take it: extra money, actual adult interaction, and I really liked my job. But the rational, realist side of me helped me realize that working an actual job (b/c we all know the one I have now is fake) just isn't in the cards right now. Then the worst thing of the day happened....I opened my cupboard and had no red food coloring for my lip cookies I had to make for the girls at Activity Days!! I had to frost them white frosting and add pink crystals...Not so cute. (It's only worse then Taylor's accident b/c Taylor has completely recovered from her ordeal...Unless you remind her of it) So needless to say when it was time for bed, I was more then ready. All I wanted to do was bury my head under the covers and not come out for awhile.