My Best Birthday Gift

If you’ve been a follower of my blog – and my life – you know that it’s been driving me simply MAD that my son refuses to walk.

In fact, I posted way back in June my theory that he was totally messing with me and was actually a walking master… as long as I wasn’t looking.

My emotions on the lack o’ walking went careening from “oh it will happen when it happens” to “holy poop on a cracker, this kid HAS to walk soon because it’s like carrying a 30 pound purse everywhere!” Oh, and add in a little bit of, “if I see one more tiny 7 month old girl walking like a champ I’m going to freak the frack out!!”

So yeah, I was handling it pretty well.

At our 18 month check up with the pediatrician, she determined that he was ready to walk at any time and there wasn’t anything wrong with him. So, I tried to chill out a little (yeah right) and just give it time.

Which is why I was unimpressed when my mom called me last Thursday to say Jack walked 8 steps at her house. I mean, the little booger has been faking us out for MONTHS! He runs like an Olympian as long as his hand is grazing furniture and would even do a crazy stumbling walk between obstacles. Eight steps…? Eh. Maybe he was just falling from one thing to another.

So when Travis brought Jack home (with beautiful roses in hand) on Thursday night, I was just a teeny bit hopeful. And then this happened…

He WALKS! HE WALKS!

My 19 month old son FINALLY WALKS! And he decided to bust out his mad walking skillz ON MY BIRTHDAY!

Can you sense my excitement from my abundance of capital letters? Because it was all I could do to keep from bursting into happy momma tears!

Part of me was afraid to acknowledge (or announce) the walking. Like maybe the moment I finally took a deep breath of relief that it had finally happened, he’d decide to go back to crawling. I mean, I obviously immediately posted it on Facebook like a good blogger. I’m just saying I felt like knocking on wood when I did it (that works, right?).

Luckily Jack has decided that walking is what the cool kids are doing and has been getting better and better at it over the last few days. Well, maybe not better AND better at it… he still walks like a drunken monkey, but he’s WALKING!

Contrary to popular belief, Jack walking has not made my life more difficult. And by ‘popular belief’ I mean pretty much every parent out there who has been very sweet in telling me to enjoy the crawling stage while it’s happening. I did enjoy it… for over a YEAR.

What’s funny is that I’m actually finding life easier with a walking toddler. Instead of me hefting his solidness everywhere, he’s pretty content to walk from place to place holding onto my finger. Also, it makes playtime at the park much more fun!

So yes, my kid finally walks and it was pretty much the best birthday present I’ve ever received.

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What Does 36 Look Like?

Today is my birthday.

When I went to bed last night I was still young(ish), but as of this morning’s alarm clock I am officially closer to 40 than 30. I’m 36.

birthday pic
I took this picture this morning on my way into work, just to be sure it was an ACTUAL picture of me at 36 years old. I mean, if I took it yesterday I could have suddenly grown much more haggard overnight when my birthday hit.

36.

36 is weird.
I mean, is this considered middle age?

Am I “over” the hill?
Where IS the hill, exactly?

I’m not depressed about it or anything. It’s just really weird to me to be 36 years old. I mean, I still feel so young. Well, most of the time.

I guess it helps that I don’t “look my age.”  When I tell people how old I am, their eyes typically bug out and they respond with something along the lines of, “are you freaking kidding me, I thought you were in your mid-20’s?!”

Maybe they’re just being super nice. Or maybe I act like I’m younger than I am? Perhaps my face lotion from Origins is doing a better job than I thought?

It probably helps that I’m a bit of a cradle-robber and married a hottie husband who is 5 years younger than me. Okay, 5 ½ years younger.

When Travis and I got married, I was too young to be a “cougar”… Crap, am I a cougar now?

And if I look “good” for my age, what does a NORMAL 36 year old look like? The person that when they say, “I’m 36” you just nod your head and say “yup.”

I googled it, because that’s what we do nowadays.

However, google failed me because I couldn’t find what a normal 36 year old looked like. I did find a list of celebrities that are also my same age though, which included: Ryan Reynolds, Liv Tyler, Sarah Michelle Gellar, James Van Der Beek, Joe Manganiello, Anna Faris, Emily Deschanel, Rachel McAdams and Alicia Silverstone.

Marilyn_Monroe - 1962
Marilyn Monroe from 1962, when she was 36 years old. (Source: Wikipedia)

I really doubt that anyone on this list would be described as “typical” in looks though… they’re all massive sexy beasts that probably spend more on hair and makeup than I did on my truck. I’m going to go ahead and consider that (WAY) out of my league… especially since I haven’t actually gotten my hair cut since December.

I also was reminded that Marilyn Monroe was 36 years old when she died. Here’s a picture of her from 1962 when she was 36. Hottie. A 36 year old HOTTIE.

I did a little Facebook research too and checked out my classmates from high school. I mean, we’re all the same age, right? That didn’t really help either though — maybe they also “look good for their age” or maybe some of them look terrible for their age. I can’t really tell because when I look at them I see the 17 year old version that I knew almost 20 years ago.

Oh and while doing my research I also learned that the age of 36 is considered the “year zero” face that people shoot for when doing plastic surgery. So that’s kind of cool. Or depressing if you think about the fact that it’s all downhill from here. Well, crap.

Anyways, I’m 36 now. So there’s no going back. I’ll just keep my fingers crossed that I continue to “look good for my age” or at least have people in my life that lie quite flatteringly.

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Give me a Birthday Present

Today is my birthday.

Now, before you immediately leave to log onto Facebook and quickly type the words “Happy Birthday” onto my page so that I know that you love me… I have a request for you.

Yes, I know I’m such a selfish, selfish girl. Um, or woman. I guess at age 35 I’m firmly into the “woman” range of life now.

Logging on to Facebook would take you a couple minutes, right? Maybe a few more if you’re not already a fan of my Pocketful of Joules Facebook page. So let’s round up and say that wishing me “Happy Birthday” would take you 5 minutes.

Here’s what I’d like you to do with those 5 minutes instead:

Option #1: If you already have a Dermatologist
Whip out your phone, call their office and make yourself an appointment to have your moles checked.

Option #2: If you don’t have a Dermatologist
Call your doctor and set up an appointment so you can get a referral (if needed) or go on Facebook to see if your friends have any recommendations for someone to see. Call them up and make an appointment to have your moles checked.

Can you do that for me?

Because that is what I really, really want from you on my birthday.

As much as I’m thoroughly confused on how I came to be the ripe, old age of 35, I can tell you that I’m absolutely thrilled to be given the chance at another year of life. Out of the four moles removed from my body, two of them contained pre-cancerous cells that veered way too close to being full-blown melanoma. You can see more of my story by clicking on my Pieces of Me post.

So make me happy on my birthday and get a full-body mole scan. You can totally wish me “Happy Birthday” on Facebook too if you want. Oh and I totally wouldn’t pass up a piece of cake with extra icing.

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