So I've done awesome at keeping up with my Monday and Friday posts eh?  I never was good at consistency.  Fitness Fridays will be pointless for a while since I can't do any physical activity for at least two weeks.  Fun.

About two weeks ago I went to the dermatologist because I had two moles that looked funny.  One was on my arm and didn't look too weird but it had grown a lot in a short amount of time.  The other one was on my leg.  It originally looked like a small, dark beauty mark but then this orange-ish waxy blister-like thing started growing over it but never popped like a blister.  The dermatologist decided to biopsy both of them.  Good.  Then I wouldn't have to worry about them every time I looked at them.  I fully expected everything to come back normally because I don't have the typical skin type for skin cancer.  I have dark hair and eyes and olive toned skin that tans easily.  I'm good right?

The biopsy part was pretty easy.  They numb the area and take a razor blade and shave it off.  No big deal.  For some reason I passed out and thought I was gonna puke.  I'm not sure why.  Doc said it totally normal and uncontrollable but I'm not even squeamish so I thought it was weird.

The pathology report for the mole on my arm came back clear but unfortunately the one on my leg, although it wasn't cancerous, had some cells around the edges that were "concerning" and if any were left in the surrounding skin, it could turn into melanoma later.  Oh great.  I was really disappointed because this now means that I have to watch all the spots on my skin for the rest of my life.  But it wasn't cancer so that's good at least.

The doctor told me they wanted me to come back so they can remove the skin around the mole on my leg.  It would be a simple procedure... an hour would be enough time.  Ha!  What I didn't know was that "procedure" meant "surgery" and "an hour" meant the surgery would take an hour, not the whole appointment.

So I check in to my appointment.  Thank God I brought my husband.  They lead me to a room.  At this point, I still think I'm having a "procedure"... like last time.  But the room they put me in was definitely an operating room.  I looked at my husband and was like, "Uh.... this isn't like last time.  This is a little much for what I thought they were doing."  Then they start telling me about my "surgery".  There will be a resident, a senior resident, and attending, and a nurse in the room.  They will be cutting about a 5mm margin around the mole site.  "Okay, that's little," I think.  The doc starts marking up my leg and the circle they're cutting out looks huge.... slightly larger than a quarter.  The doctor is like, "It looks big but it's not that big."   At this point, I'm getting nervous, the spotty vision is starting up again and I'm getting hot.  This was not at all what I had expected.

They get me all covered,  in position, and numbed up.  Before they start, I ask for ice.  Ice helps with the passing out.  I did NOT want to pass out.  I didn't see them start because I was focused on breathing and cooling myself off but once I felt stable, I leaned up on my elbows so I could watch.  Holy crap!  It was fascinating!   My leg was wide open.  Like.... Wide open.  My whole hand would have barely covered the open part of my leg.  They had to cut the circle of skin out but then they had to cut two triangle pieces from opposite sides of the circle so that they could sew up a neat line with stitches.  So by the time they were done with all the cutting, there was a fairly large, football-shaped opening in my leg.  The doctor started snipping out little pieces of fat because it gets in the way when they sew you up.  I grabbed a piece that she cut off so I could see what it feels like.... pretty cool.  Under the fat, I could see my muscle.  I actually got to look at one of my quads.  It was awesome.  They have to separate the skin from the tissue underneath around the edges of the incision so they can easily sew the skin together.  The whole process was amazing to watch.  It was the first time that I really felt regret about not going to medical school.  That could have been me.  I could have been the one sticking my hands in peoples legs.  I could still be a nurse I guess, and get to watch doctors stick their hands in people.... not the same but still cool.

Now I'm at home.  I'm still too sore to go to work although the doc said I could go.  The incision runs right along the edge of my quad... right above the knee and it's black and blue and angry right now.  Every time I flex that muscle, it hurts.  I'm a little nervous to drive since it's my driving leg.  I can't do much.  No exercise whatsoever for at least 2 weeks and I need to keep the kids away from my lap.  Today, I'm gonna veg out on my bed, knit, and watch tv.

Getting There

Fitness Friday!... I need to get better at posting these on the right day!

I started out the week on track.  Monday was great!  I ran in the morning and went to the gym in the afternoon.  Took the dog for a long walk on Tuesday and did some working out Wednesday morning.  The last half of the week wasn't so great.  I hate when life gets in the way but I'm encouraged to know I can get there on a normal week.  My oldest son has something wrong with is leg that no one can figure out and I had a couple moles biopsied this week and those things combined threw off my routine the last couple days.

My eating however, wasn't great this week.  I didn't stick to my awesome diet that I had last week.... mostly because my husband did the grocery shopping and didn't get all the fruits and veggies he bought the week before.  I should have gone to the store and got some but I didn't.  FAIL.

I feel like an old car that's sputtering to get started but once I'm running, I'll be good to go.  As long as I don't get turned off again.

God, Give Me Patience

So my son, the one I talked about in my last post, the lover of the vacuum.... he drove me CRAZY today.  I wanted to take the vacuum and smash it into little pieces, put it in the blender, and then burn it.   He talked about the vacuum for most of the day and every time I walked out of the room, he pulled it out of the closet.  I caught him in the bedroom with it, in the living room, wheeling it into his playroom.  One time I walked into the living room and there he was, petting it, like it was his prized possession.  At bedtime, he said he wanted me to vacuum so I told him the vacuum needed to sleep.  Maybe if he thought the vacuum was sleeping, he wouldn't get out of bed to touch it one more time.  NOPE!  He had to sneak out of his room to see if the vacuum was laying down.  For the love of God!!

Today was definitely a test of my patience.

I did more Asberger's research today too.  I took a couple of quizzes I found that ask you a bunch of questions about your kid and it tells you the likelihood that they have it.  They all said he probably doesn't have it because he doesn't have any social problems (aside from the eye contact issue).  That's good.... that he probably doesn't have Asberger's... but where does that leave us?  Where are these crazy obsessions coming from?  What about his need for certain routines?  What about when he screeches like a 2-year old when something sets him off?  Is he just a brat?  A 'difficult' child?

I'm still going to talk to the doctor about it.  If anything, I'll be able to find out that my kid is just 'difficult' and I can be tougher on disciplining him without feeling guilty or worrying about an underlying issue.

Until then, God, give me patience.

And if you're reading this, pray for my little man.

Quirky

My younger son is quirky.  That's the best way to describe him.  Quirky.  Ever since he started talking, he's been obsessed with the vacuum cleaner.  He's four now.  Most people think it's cute.  I used to think it was cute too.  Now I just worry.  I feel like I'm always fighting with the vacuum to get his attention.  Now that he's added lawnmowers to his obsession, I feel like I will never win.

"Why did you hit your sister?"
"Mommy, we have a black vacuum."

"What do you want for lunch?"
"Is Daddy gonna lownmower the yard?"

"You gonna go pee pee and poo poo in the potty today?"
"Mommy, are you gonna vacuum?"

We played Chutes and Ladders the other day.  Curse the man who put a picture of a kid mowing the lawn on there.  Once he saw that, it was exponentially difficult to get him to play the game.
"Your turn honey."
"Mommy, whats that?"
"It's a lawnmower. Spin the spinner."
"What's he doing?"
"He's mowing the lawn.  You got a four.  Can you move your guy four squares?"
"He's mowing the lawn to cut the grass."
"Yes honey, can we count to four?"
Repeat that till the game is over.

Sometimes I want to scream.

I don't want to say he is my favorite kid.  I don't have a favorite.  I love all my kids equally, but differently, if that makes sense.  Since the day my younger son was born I've had a feeling about him.... a feeling I can't explain.  Like he needs to be protected more than the others.  Or that he needs more attention than the others. It's amazing how mother's intuition works... that I knew from the day he was born that he was different.  Different isn't bad, it's just different.

His obsessions are just one of his quirks.  He lines up the alphabet magnets into a square every time he goes into the kitchen.  I worry that he'll never be potty trained.  He rarely looks at me when I'm talking to him and I'm constantly trying to get him to focus.  We call him "the destroyer".  He's broken more toys than I care to count because he's either too rough with them, or he uses them for his own creative purposes.  Don't even think about changing his routine.... the meltdown that follows isn't worth it.  I'm learning that it isn't all routines. Some things I can change and he does fine.  But don't change his seat at the dinner table.  Just don't do it.  It isn't pretty.  Recently I've noticed that sometimes he reverts to babyhood.  Like when he's mad he makes this noise that 2 year olds make.  I can't seem to get him to stop doing it.
Sometimes I feel like he just isn't there.  He's off in his own little made-up world full of vacuums and lawnmowers.

He brings me my lowest lows.  Lows where I want to pull all my hair out and scream at the top of my lungs.  But he brings me my highest highs too.  Highs where I'm laughing until tears are streaming down my face and I can't catch my breath.  And he's the best snuggler.  You can't snuggle with him without falling asleep.  It just isn't possible.  He snuggles his little body up to you in such a way that he can't possibly get any closer and it melts your heart.  My husband says we should rent him out to insomniac clinics because he could single handedly cure everyone in an hour.

I'm starting a notebook and writing down all his quirks because I can't think of them all at one time.  I've only written a fraction of them above.  Some could be attributed to his age.  Maybe he's just a quirky kid but I have a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that tells me otherwise.  At his next check-up in August we are going to talk to the doctor about getting him tested for Asberger's Syndrome.  It may still be too early for them to know for sure, but if he doesn't have it, they'll be able to rule it out.  If he has it, I don't know what that means.  I watch Parenthood.  The kid on there, Max, has Asberger's.  Is that what my son will be like in a few years?  TV isn't reality I know, but that's all I have to go on.  I've never known anyone on the Autism spectrum.  I have to idea what it would mean for my son... or for how we parent him.  I guess we'll cross that bridge if and when we get to it.

Total Bust

Fitness Friday!  At this rate, maybe I should start calling it Fat Friday.  This week was a total bust.  My youngest had a raging fever on Monday so I didn't go to work.  I pretty much laid with her on our giant beanbag chair ALL DAY LONG.  Tuesday, I actually went to work but I was exhausted because I was up most of the previous two nights with the sick little one who decided we should have a chat ever hour, on the hour.  Wednesday was the holiday... pretty much a weekend in the middle of the week.  And Thursday and today I was off work.  I did a lot of reading, tv watching, writing.  I got a lot of relaxing and brainstorming done.  I'd say my brain got some exercise but my body sure didn't.  I gained back a few pounds.

I desperately need my routine to start.  Monday starts a normal work week.... a normal week full of ROUTINE.  I need routine.... it fuels motivation which I have none of right now.  Zip.  Zero.  NONE.

So here's to hoping next week's blog post is a Fitness Friday and not a Fat Friday.

Marriage Monday- Finances

Marriage Monday... better late than never right?

Supposedly one of the biggest causes for divorce is finances.  Money problems.  People fighting about money??  No... never...  (this is where I need a sarcasm font.)

Hubs and I have never had a single disagreement about finances.  Ever.
On the other hand, Ex and I fought about money ALL the time and it probably was a big factor in our split.
What is different?  Everything.

The following lists the major things I think help remove arguments about money.

1.  Make a budget.  If you don't have a monthly budget, how on earth will you be able to plan for anything?  How can you save money?  How will you know how big of a car payment or mortgage you can afford?  The simple answer is that you can't.  You would not believe how many people don't keep a budget.  No wonder they fight about money all the time.
You don't have to do anything fancy... No fancy programs.  A notebook will do.  Up until a couple years ago, I did all my budgeting in a notebook.  (Now I use excel)  The most basic way to do a budget is to write down all your monthly expenses and monthly income. Then break the income down by pay periods and figure out what bills you will pay for each pay period.  Don't forget to leave money for groceries, gas, and a little fun.
Unless you are a millionaire or have and endless income, you should have a budget.
You don't have to do the budget together.  I do all the budgeting and handle the finances in our house.  BUT, you should review it together at least once a month.  Both spouses should always know where the money is going.

2. Have a joint checking and savings account.  This is my personal preference.  If you have separate accounts and it works for you, great.  But, I'm a firm believer that once you get married to someone, it doesn't matter who makes what amount of money.  You are two people working as one entity.... or you should be.  I don't believe bills should be broken up as to who pays what and who makes what.  You aren't roommates; you're married.  Maybe I'm wrong but I think a lot of people like to keep their money separate 'just in case'.  Just in case of what?  Divorce?  Separation?  Your spouse wipes you out and runs?  If you're worried about that sort of thing or don't trust your spouse, there is a deeper problem than money. Any income coming into the home belongs to both of you.  Any bill belonging to your household belongs to both of you.  You are a team.
Additionally, having one, joint account forces you to communicate!

3. Communicate!  (there's that 'c' word again!)  If you do the above two things and don't communicate, you are still going to have a problem.  As I mentioned in a previous post, Ex was terrible with money... always spending hundreds, sometimes thousands of dollars on his truck without talking to me about it.  On the flip side, I was doing the budgeting and probably didn't involve him in that enough.  As I said above, one person can make the budget, but both parties should be reviewing it together.  Both parties should know what your financial situation is.  If one spouse were to get hit by a bus, the other spouse should know enough about your financial situation to be able to take it over with full knowledge of how your budgeting system works.  Hubs and I sit down at least once a month but usually every pay period when I pay the bills, and I fill him in on what bills I paid, how much I put in savings, and what we have left over.  If either of us has a big purchase we want to make in the near future, we bring it up at that time so that it can be budgeted in.  Also, the reason I said a joint checking account forces you to communicate is because, you can't just go spend money on a whim without talking to your spouse first. What if you both did that at the same time and came home to no money because he spent $300 and you spend $295 and you only had $600 in your account?  Oops.  Hubs and I have an unspoken rule.  If either of us is going to spend over $100 on something, we give the other one a courtesy call.  Not kidding.  Now, this doesn't happen all the time.  If I go to Target, Hubs knows I'm probably spending at least $150. (That place is dangerous!) But if I'm spending an unplanned amount of money or if I'm at the mall, and I want to buy a shirt that is really cute but has a hefty price tag, I'll call him to see what he thinks. Even though I'm the one that does the finances, and I know that we can afford it, he deserves to weigh in on big purchases.  For each couple, the dollar threshold for a "courtesy call" will be different.  Maybe $50 dollars.  Or maybe you can afford it to be $200.
Just sit down once in a while and talk about money.  Goals are important to discuss.  Do you want to buy a new car in the future, a house, or go on a vacation?  Discuss it.  Figure out together how much you can afford or what changes you can make in your daily spending to allow you to accomplish your goals TOGETHER.

So that's my 2 cents on finances.  (haha!  Get it?)

See you Monday.