The Voice Drinking Game

The Voice Drinking Game-
After a long couple of hours I truley think my sister, Terra, and I have created the perfect drinking game. So please try this game out and let us know what you like, dislike, or how wasted u got lol

1. Take one drink if Christina is showing moderate cleavage. Take two drinks if she is showing MAJOR cleavage.
2. Take one drink every time Cee lo is shown with Purrfect.
3. Take one drink anytime Cee lo says the word "freak."
4. Take one drink every time Blake complains about "theatrics."
5. Take two drinks every time Blake gets distracted by "Male Strippers."
6. Take three drinks anytime Carson says "Anyways, lets move on."
7. Take a drink every time Christina says someone is "pitchy."
8. Take two drinks every time someone disagrees with Adam.
9. Take one drink every time a judge stands up after a singer's performance.
10. Take two drinks every time Christina goes "Whooo!"
11. Take two drinks anytime a judge insults another judge.
12. Take one drink anytime a judge complains about a song choice.
13. Take three drinks every time Cee lo flirts with a contestant.
14. Take two drinks every time Christina tries to out sing a contestant.
15. Take two drinks anytime a judge says "This is the best performance of the night" or "This is the person to beat"

A Healthy Heart for Valentines Day (Molly's Surgery)

It's weird to think that on this very day last year Molly was under going open heart surgery. And it's even weirder to think that the only remaining piece of evidence (besides our bank account) is a scar that is boldly placed across her chest. I think in this anniversary of her surgery it is only appropriate to tell the story...

 We were in isolation with Molly after she was realised from over a month in the NICU at Children's Hospital. The doctors wanted her to gain weight and age before doing the surgery. I needed to make sure she wouldn't get sick by staying in the house at all times and monitoring who came in. They planned around five months old, but warned us that this isn't always true and to not assume anything. All I kept thinking to myself was "I didn't plan any of this happening so I wasn't going to start." Her doctors also wanted her to get monthly check ups on her heart and make sure nothing more was happening. So I left thinking, well I know she will be back here again so we'll make the best of it.

The whole time she was in isolation I was addicted to pictures, blogs, and people's experiences with their child's heart surgeries. I felt like I could never get enough. All I would see is these babies I have never met laying there with IV's coming out of their head, huge scars, tubes everywhere, and hooked to every machine known to man. It was odd, I just could never match Molly's face or names to any of the stories or pictures. I just wanted so badly to be prepared and reassured by the thought of someone breaking open my daughters rib cage and close up the holes in her heart. But as that sentence sounded you can never grasp the reality of whats going to happen.


A month goes by and Molly has her first cardiac appointment. I go in a little nervous, but keep reassuring myself that she should be OK. They do her EKG and ECO then have us wait in the room for the results. Our doctor comes in with a very un-confident look on her face. She tells us that the one hole looks the same, but that two more have formed and their were some smaller holes on the bottom of her heart. She was going to review it with the Children's Hospital Sergent's and call me when they wanted surgery done. My heart sank. I tried so hard not to cry in the office, but I knew the choking sounds were coming up from my throat. Once again bad news. I tried to not plan anything, but having the procedure at two and half months old and weighing five pounds was very scary and seemed unrealistic. We left and all I kept thinking is I wish that phone call would happen as soon as possible so I can try once again to prepare myself.


That night I slept horrible, I kept listening to every move and breath she made. I found myself going in her room and feeling her chest just to see if her heart was beating. Every time I would close my eyes the thought of her surgery would come up. I couldn't help to think with that many holes if she would even make it through the night. Why did it seem like my poor baby kept having all odds against her?


The next day I got the call from the cardiac doctor stating that Molly needed her surgery by next week. She let me know since Molly was premature and so little that her recovery in the hospital could be up to another month. When I hung up the phone I balled. I grabbed my sleeping baby and just thought was there no end to her pain? Will she ever know what it feels like not to be in the hospital or doctors office every month? It just wasn't fair. I never would have put this on my worst enemy and my daughter is having to endure all of this, and once again it was falling close to another holiday.


I first called my husband David (who was at work) and told him the news. I felt horrible that this was the way he needed to find out, but we had to give his boss the information fast. Being alone and dealing with this was terrible, but having to put emotions aside to do a good job at work must have been so much worse. He seemed to be very numb by the news and I was hoping he wasn't taking it as hard as me. I then called my sister to see if she could get the time off of work to be here since she lives in New York. They were very supportive and allowed for her to come. Which was great because I needed her here with me and not all the way across the United States. Then I called my mother and cried. I poured everything out thinking in some way if I told every detail it would make things easier. But no matter what came out I still felt the rock in my stomach. My last call ended with my best friend Kristin and thankfully her work was willing to give her the time off to be with me. Everything was set, I knew who would be there in the waiting room and the night before. Except the person I wanted to be their most was Molly, but of course reality needed to kick in and I needed to start excepting that.


The whole week was tense. When anyone would ask me if I was OK with everything I gave the response "I am glad their doing it now then waiting later," which was a lie. I wanted them to wait till later, I wanted to believe the holes would close on their own. But I didn't feel like explaining the details to others so kept with this response. While packing for the days ahead every piece of clothing was heavy, but I was determined to make sure we were better packed than before. It was just odd, the idea still was so abstract to me and I couldn't (or wasn't allowing myself) to grasp this surgery was going to happen.


My sister flew in a couple days before the surgery so she could see Molly and have cuddle time with her. Then like a flash it was the day before the surgery. My sister came up with David and I to have a tour of the CICU. I drove thinking it would take my focus off everything, but I was a ticking time bomb. My gas was getting low so my husband made a comment about how me or him should have gotten gas the day before, and I snapped. I yelled at him and got lost going into the pumping station and worst of all it was freezing cold that day. When I went outside to pump the gas I kept choking down tears. I remember how hot the tears were and how cold my face was. How I tried to hid it from my sister, husband, and the other people at the gas station. How I saw Molly in the back seat of the car and wondered if this was the last time I would see her like this, or even again. I pulled myself together and jumped back in the car. It seemed tense for the rest of the trip, but we ended up making it a little early and had the chance to put some McDonald's breakfast and ease tension. But no matter how much better I felt my breakfast burrito seemed to sit in my stomach the rest of the day.


We pulled up to Children's Hospital and went into the main lobby to meet the head nurse. I felt at home. I guess I never realised how comforted and attached to this building I had become. The colors, smell, and even noise was easing to me. The nurse came and got us and gave us the beginning of our five hour tour with no meal breaks. We toured all the rooms and floors. Then met with everyone doing Molly's surgery. First we met one of the Sergeant. He was very cocky and seemed un-phased by the whole situation. I asked him what was the death rate with this procedure was and outcome of a pace maker. He looked at me in the eyes and said "Three percent if that of death and same with the pace maker. Its never happened to me, but I have heard of those odds." I was thrilled he was so assured that there was not going to be a fatal outcome. He then told us that because Molly had such a low weight and small heart that he would have another Sergeant assistting. He also stated how lucky we were by this because that was unheard of. I was starting to feel more and more comfortable with everything. Then another nurse came in and did her speech. The last in the room was the anesthesiologist (who I enjoyed the most.) He was funny and just so kick back. He reminded me of the yuppies in Boulder and how he told us not to worry he would make sure to give Molly the good stuff. I felt slowly everything was seeming to be a little better. It was like peeling back the different layers of an onion, the closer down you get the less tears come out, and the ending in sight. We left the hospital and I felt more reassured, there was a great chance my daughter would come out of this fine.


Children's Hospital gives you a complimentary hotel suite to stay in so your close and rested for the day ahead of you. We found the hotel and it was very very nice. My mom, mom's boyfriend, and Kristin ended up meeting us there and stayed the night. It was so wonderful, the beds were comfy, there was tons of space, little kitchen, nice living room, and double king sized beds. The whole night we played games and enjoyed our time with Molly. Once everyone went to bed I was once again stuck with my thoughts. I tossed and turned all night. I kept watching the clock and counting down till five. When I got up for Molly's fluid feeding I held her and watched my little angel sleep. I rubbed her little sternum and took mental photos of her chest without a huge scar. I am not religious, but I did keep going over in my head, "Who ever is out there please listen to me and make sure my baby comes out healthier than before. Please she deserves this."

Five in the morning came all to soon. David and me packed Molly up and went on our way. It was so cold and dark. The drive to the hospital was only five minutes away, but seemed like hours to me. I just remember the only thing I was feeling was David's hand on mine. We went into the check in area and when we signed the papers to release the hospital to do whatever they needed to I tried not to cry. The head nurse grabbed us and and we headed up to the pre-operation room. They put Molly in a huge gown and my beautiful baby sat there and played totally unaware of the events to come. When she looked up at me and smiled I started balling. Trying to keep in as much as I could I just kept going poor thing doesn't even know whats going to happen to her. And I am allowing this, I am allowing this! Soon enough they came in and took Molly away. It was horrible! Once again I felt powerless, I am trusting these people with my daughters life and I am not able to be there with her. What if she cries? What if she is scared by so many strangers? What if she does end up being that three percent, I want to spend every moment with her I can. But unfortunately I knew I wasn't strong enough to sit through a surgery let alone knowing they would have never let me back. David and I came out to the waiting room to see everyone waiting for us. I just kept my head down and cried. How was it I felt so reassured yesterday to now wondering what I did? Kristin and mom took us down to the cafeteria to get something in our systems and just out of the area. I cried and told them what if something happens to my baby, how horrible giving her away felt, and what if I never see her again. They sat back and listened. It made me feel a little better being able to breath, talk, and be in a different area of the hospital. Kristin (who works in the medical field and has been present for a couple of open heart surgeries) was a life saver. She told me everything that was going to happen and how this is such a common thing that she knew everything would go fine. Every update the nurse would tell us got easier and easier, and Kristin would assure me by going "that's great to hear or sounds like its going smoothly." We got to a point where we were actually all smiling and laughing again.

 When the doctor came out at the end he told us everything went better than expected and we could see her. Only two people were allowed back in the room so of course it was David and me. When we walked back I was in shock. Your never prepared to see your child after any kind of surgery, but this through me totally off. It was nothing like all the photos I saw before hand. She layed there so lifeless, unlike the twelve hours before. Her poor little body was white and she had a huge bloody white tape across her chest. There were wires coming out of her body and three specifically attached to her heart so I could not hold her, because if they bumped out of place at all it could kill her. I think the worse was the huge plastic looking bulb that was filling with blood and they would have to discard. Apparently her lungs were filling with blood and that was helping extract it out. She was also being monitored to make sure she wasn't going to have a stroke and make sure no nerve damage happened during the surgery. I became so sick to my stomach I ended up throwing up later. David and me couldn't grasp what she looked like let alone wanted anyone else to go back and see her looking like this. I didn't want to see her looking like this. The doctor and nurses came over and asked if David and me needed to step out for a little bit and get some air. I couldn't help, but say yes. I felt so guilty that I so selfishly couldn't be strong enough to sit by my daughters side. But I knew if I stayed in there I would have been a distraction for the other families and staff. My mom took David and I to Target just to get out of the hospital and have dinner. To be honest I remember very little of this because I was so focused on my feelings and what Molly looked like I couldn't think of anything else. She looked like death and I was scared what her ending out come would be. When we went back to our room, we both went over how we hoped tomorrow would be better.

Now its true what they say, the first day is the worst, but every day gets better (which I didn't believe). More and more tubes and machines were coming off of Molly. She even started moving more and being herself again. Her color came back in her face and I finally saw those rosie cheeks I loved. They pulled the NG tube out and she went back the bottle like nothing had ever happened. On the third day I got to hold her which was incredible. I got to feel my baby in my arms again and was allowed to change her diaper and parent her. She seemed stronger and stronger everyday and melted every ones hearts in the CICU. Every time I came in a nurse was holding her and taking her for rounds. On Valentines Day our nurses gave Molly a couple stuff animals with hearts. I even told David most parents give their kids candy hearts and we gave ours a repaired one. She even got to wear an outfit the last day there since so many wires came out. We were thrilled and shocked to hear that Molly was allowed to leave after six days in the CICU.


When Molly came home she did outstanding. We all felt there was an improvement on her and her strength ended up showing. Her scar almost totally healed after two weeks. Of course she was on oxygen a long time after, but it was better than what I thought her recovery would have been. It felt like no time at all we were able to be off of holding restrictions and have our little girl back.


Looking back now, and all the fear and tears I had were worth everything we got in return. I am glad that modern medicine is so advanced that this procedure went as smoothly as it did. Molly still has slight hyper tension in her heart, but all the holes are still repaired and no new ones have come through. She also is off of oxygen and currently getting ECO's and EKG's every four to six months. I am hoping this next visit it will turn to once a year and so on... When I now look at Molly's scar I don't see the surgery, I see a mark of beauty, courage, strength, and hope.

Molly's Little Inspirations....

Molly has been a true inspiration to me. From the moment she was born, I admired the way she seemed to be on the bright side of everything and touched every ones lives. She always smiles when she had every right to frown. Its just truly amazing that a baby can touch so many lives with the power of a grin and an extra chromosome.

I use to be a very pessimistic person and seem to always look at the glass half empty. I think investing in positive thought always seemed like a dreamers philosophy. That the realistic terms in life are usually negative. But seeing Molly the way she was at the hospital and after her heart surgery only kept me pushing to think on the brighter side. I just kept going if that little girl can under go a major surgery and still smile and having all odds against her yet she pushes herself to the limits everyday, why can't I? Ever since I have applied this in my life, I have found what my passion is. To be a voice for my daughter and help other people with special needs get the lives they deserve. And with some positive perspective and outreach I am volunteering at our local Down syndrome association, advocating by going to meetings that impact special needs, and spreading awareness by being open about answering questions on Molly's disability (but more importantly on how she is just the same.) All of this because of my daughter's diagnoses and a little positive change.

Molly hasn't just impacted me, but so many friends, family, and strangers. Different people inbox me on Facebook once every couple of weeks on how wonderful Molly is and how she has touched them in some way. Or how finding out she has Down Syndrome has made them want to do more with the special needs community. Here are a couple of my favorite stories...

-My friends son (who is about five) was playing with Molly and kept saying how she loved him because she kept staring at him, smiling, and laughing. He then asked us what Down syndrome was and why Molly had it. So we explained everything to him. He then looked at his mother and said, "Mom I wish more people had extra chromosomes, because then they would be cute and nice like Molly!"

-We were at Kohl's and a random shopper came up to me asking why Molly had oxygen on. When I told her the story she said "I think it was meant to be I met your daughter. I have been terrified about having surgery, but now meeting Molly and seeing she can do it, I can too."

- This is a Facebook message I got the other day "I so want to thank you and Molly for what you do and show the world that its OK to be who you are, you make me want and hope for more. I cant wait to see how everything turns out for you." I read this and teared up, what an amazing thing to wake up too. 

Sometimes I just look at my baby and wonder "does she realize how many lives she has touched in the fourteen months she has been on this earth?" But I think that is some of her charm. All she wants is everyone to smile when she smiles. That's it, she doesn't ask for anything more. I mean what a more simply perfect way to be with another person or even stranger? I just can not wait to see the other lessons that Molly teaches me and others. Everyone tells you how a child changes your life, but never did I think how true that statement was until now. My hope is that Molly keeps on inspiring me and others to be the best we can be. And that I can keep changing and growing in my life right along side hers....

The first 72 hours with Molly Paige...

After five hours of labor and delivering at thirty five weeks, I remember the momment I saw my new baby girl. She was so small and I was in so much shock sitting here holding my baby a day before Thanksgiving when she was to arrive New Years Eve. When I looked at her I kept thinking that she didn't look like most newborns I have ever seen. But also I have never seen a premature child so I dismissed the thought. She also seemed to not cry a lot, more like whimpers. I made a comment, but everyone in the delivery room acted like this was perfectly normal. The selfish thought did run through my head of "Yes, I got a quite baby! Thank god!!!" When they took Molly away a nurse gave me something to fall asleep and all I could do is think, at least she is here and healthy.


The next day I awoke with the hospital room empty. I went out to see my daughter in the hospitals NICU and saw my husband and father in the room with Molly and the doctor. When I came in he smiled lightly and said that everything on my daughter looked good, her lungs and heart were great, and I will never forget this "and well, she might have Down syndrome. We took a FISH test and the results should be here in a week...." and turned and walked away. We were all in shock. I couldn't believe it, my whole pregnancy they told me how she always looked perfect, strong heart beat, measured beautifully, gained the perfect amount of weight, no risk for anything, and now she is here five weeks early with tons of tubes coming out of her and she might have a disability! Even though me and my whole family have a lot of experience with people with special needs (since at the time I was a Para-professional for special needs students at a high school) it was still hard to grasp. You never want your child to struggle, or feel what its like to be different, and most of all have any medical problems. I tried tracking down the doctor again wondering why he felt this diagnoses could be true. After almost two hours we stopped him (like he was avoiding us at all cost) and asked why he felt this way. He stated "Well she has the line across her palm, some webbed toeing, and the point on the ears. I am only fifty percent sure she might be." Then took off again without letting us ask anymore questions. So when my friends, family, and co-workers arrived the first thing I would ask everyone is if they saw the Down Syndrome traits. Everyone would reassure me that she looked fine and I shouldn't worry. My co-workers even reminded me that a couple times in my pregnancy how I expressed the thought of what if my daughter had a disability, but everyone would say "It'll be fine, its just in your face all the time." Now I am wondering if those were gut feelings I had all along, but kept reassuring myself fifty percent is fifty percent so there was a huge chunk that could be she was fine. So I kept talking myself out of the idea that it could possibly be true.


The second day was Thanksgiving. I remember watching the Macy's day parade on the little TV in the hospital room and tearing up. I just kept wishing I could watch it with my daughter in my arms and feel truely thankful. But I tried to be as positive as possible and kept going "we'll get out of this hospital soon. It won't be like this forever...'' The nurses kept trying to tell me every reason that they felt Molly didn't have Down Syndrome. Even when I wasn't asking any questions about the matter. Maybe because they thought it would make me feel better I'm still not sure. But it didn't make me feel better, it just kept it in my head. This wasn't in my plan. I had this four pound baby laying there with an NG tube sticking out of her nose because she is to weak to eat from a bottle, a light shining on her from Jaundice, wires and patches everywhere, and her poor little frail arms bruised and drained from all the the blood draws and IV's. All I wanted to do is be like any normal new mom, breast feed and bond with my new baby. Except it was hard to be able to cuddle with all the machines let alone she was being tested on so much I didn't really get to hold her. And at this hospital they said there was a good chance I would never get to breast feed Molly so a tiny dropper was the only way I could. On top of everything you have nurses that have to be in the room and help with everything. I was scared and longed to be the one to take care of my child. Even to the point I tried to jump in and change a diaper when they would allow me. Nothings worse then feeling like you need permission on your own child. And I was scared Molly would get use to the nurses and not recoginize me as her mother. It literally started killing me inside. I tried hiding my melt downs from everyone, but sometimes they would come out and I would be so embarrsed. I felt like a basket case.
That night when me and my mom were in the NICU there was a baby who came in. I asked the nurse if the baby was just born and she said "No, we give the moms a break from the babies if they need it." I looked at Molly (and I can't bring this up without crying to this day) and said "So all that mother wants is a break from her baby, and all I want to do is be able to hold mine." The two nurses in the room and my mom starting crying. The older nurse came over and said "I think you need time with your baby." She went over and almost tripped on a wire and almost dropped Molly because of everything stuck to her. It scared the crap out of me and my mom, but at least I got to hold her for about ten minutes until she had to go back under the light. It was horrible I just keep thinking how long is this going to go on and could it get any worse...


On my third day at the hospital I was being released, but Molly had to stay in until they got her to a proper weight and she could feed with a bottle. Strangly enough all the nurses seemed to be overly friendly and nice to me (even to the point they called the hospital masseuse in on a holiday to give me my complimentry massage). I felt like they were more about making me happy then they were about my medical well being (for example them not finding the extra placenta in me till thirty six days later, which should have never sat that long). I guess it was because they were trying to keep me happy till they dropped one of the worst news of my life....
We had a nurse come in to let us know Molly would have to stay in the hospital since she was premature and set up a room I could stay in while she was admitted. She told us I just needed to have a shot given to me and I could go. So my husband and me sat and discussed if we were going to go to his brothers to have a late Thanksgiving dinner. About three hours go by and we haven't seen or heard from the nurse. My husband grabs a nurse in the hallway asking when they were going to release me. She leaves, comes back thirty minutes later, and says our nurse is on lunch and she'll administer it after. A little annoyed we waited patiently until they decided to attend to us. My husband's boss calls and says she is in the area and would love to stop by and give us a gift. So we told her to come up and keep us entertained since the nursing staff seemed to be dragging their feet, or what we found later really was them stalling on purpose. After I opened one present the nurse comes in with a portable phone in hand saying it was the doctor on the phone for me. She then turns to my husband and boss stating anxiously that its about the mortality of our child. I picked up the reciever and the words I heard was "your baby has a hole in her heart. She is going to be transportted down to Aurora's Children's Hospital within the hour in an ambulence. If you would like to ride with her you can." My stomach sank, I felt like I was in a daze. I don't even remember telling my husband the news at all, just that I blanked out and then he was holding me crying. All of the sudden the nurse who is suppose to give me my shot shoots in, gives me the shot and hands me a bunch of paper work and says "I'm sorry." I was so lost, my what was suppose to be healthy baby now is even sicker and I have no clue what to do or say. On top of it, the doctor felt he couldn't tell us in person and that phone call to me was a very terrible cold way to release this news. I felt my body shake and this weird outter body feeling, like my soul accidently was stuck in someone elses body or even life. This wasn't apart of my plan, and now I have to be strong for my family and my baby, but I wasn't sure how to do that.
When I finally came to, I went in the NICU area where all the nurses were hovering around my baby. I saw they pulled her oxygen off and the nurses said "Children's Hospital told us too, were not sure what their thinking, but they should know what there talking about." I freaked, I am trusting these people with my kid and I wasn't sure who to believe and what was right, so we all sat there and watched Molly's oxygen levels until they arrived. When the ambulence finally came the people were very nice and assured me Molly was just fine. My husband, mom, mom's boyfriend, and brother in law all rode up in a seperate car since there wasn't enough room in the ambulence. Scared, crying, and feeling very alone the paramedics did everything they could to make things not so bad. They even let me choose the radio station to listen to on the way up. The driver was trying to get my mind off my baby in this huge plastic cyclinder with no oxygen on in the back. It was hard enough for me to hold her next to the bed, how was caring her almost fifty minutes away in a car going to be like? But everything went smoothly and for some reason I kind of felt like I could breathe again. Right when we came in the NICU staff and nurses greeted us warmly and professionally. They all surrounded Molly while my husband and me broke down again. The lactation nurse was so kind and took us around the hospital while they did their checks and stats. She even gave me the hope that I would be able to breast feed Molly (which I did get too for a bit) and also that this was horrible, but it would get better. The doctors came over and talked to us and said she would remain on the G-Tube with no oxygen and that they wanted her to get stronger and bigger before we talked about open heart surgery. We asked when did they find the hole in Molly's heart and the doctors said "About an hour after she was born. Why? Were you not informed on this?" Me and my husband were shocked, we were told from the other hospital how she was fine and great even though she apparently wasn't and kept it from us for three days! It angered me to know how they treated every situtation, and felt lying was helping. Thank goodness I felt comfort and hope at this hospital. They actually felt the best for my family was honesty about Molly's medical problems, not telling us what we wanted to hear, not giving us set answers unless they were one hundred percent positive, finding realistic solutions, and actually told us everything in person. I owe everything to Children's Hospital and for all they have done and will do with Molly. I am just glad the other hospital transferred us or I am not sure what would have happened with my baby.

The FISH test did finally get the confirmed diagnoses a couple days later that Molly has the rarest form of Down Syndrome called Robertsonian translocation. I'm not sure how we would have handled the news at the other hospital expectly since they seemed uncomfertable with it, but Children's was perfect. We had two genetic doctors and a main nurse who told us the news and sat down and gave us the proper information. The genetic doctors were funny and tried to make eveything light and reassure us that this was a great thing, expectly with all the new things in the medical fields these days. They had a couple of doctors in the hospital with children that had Down Syndrome and were willing to talk to us. Also they contacted the Mile High Down Syndrome Association (MHDSA) so we could meet new people in the community. I still think the coolest thing is how everyone congradulates you on being a parent of a child with Down Syndrome. It really has made the experience easier and reminds you that it isn't the end of the world, just a begining of a new exciting chapter.... which it has and I wouldn't trade for anything else in the world! I love you Molly Paige, my diamond in the rough <3

To whom it may concern....

I have never done this before so mind my creativity. I think I started this for therapy (hence the title with the help from a little liquid courage), but also to see if there is anyone who can relate in any way. I'm always up for improvements in my life so if need be advice and similar life responses are always welcome. So here we go...
I think I'll start on my introduction of me, though I'm sure a lot of you probably already know me so if anything this is a refresher course. My name is Candice and I was raised in beautiful Colorado (that I never truly appreciated until my older years of life). I have a older sister whom I adore (which once again came in my older years of life) not that I didn't love her before, but grew a better connection when puberty got out of the way. A mom I adore and strive like to be everyday. My dad whom I was very close to, but had a rough patch for awhile. We are working on our connection with each other and getting back to a better place with the help of my daughter Molly.
I am indeed married with a man I still to this day not sure why he picked me. He's like the cool kid in school that's cute, smart, and funny and seems to always find the right things to say with ease. Unlike me who is the odd kid in the corner that spouts out random wit, but mostly trips over herself and gives the meaning "dork" a true definition. It's weird we have been together for 7 years and all the ups in downs in our journey together the birth of our daughter was probably the best and helped us reconnect in a whole different way.
I have 2 puppies named Brutus and Sonya. These dogs have been with me and David most of our relationship and our the best protecters and arm lickers! They are the only true oxymoron I have in my life. Never do I spout out in the same sentence "I love you your the best, oh no you damn dog I hate you seriously worst dog ever!" hehe
Now on to my beautiful, wonderful, exceptional piece of creation my daughter Molly. She truly is the reason why I try to see the good and trust in others. I have never loved something so much in my entire life. When I look into those eyes and plump rosy cheeks I can't imagine anything more close to perfection in my life (this even includes those secret surprises that seen to be packaged so nicely in that diaper of hers.)
Now as I sit here on the eve of my 26th birthday watching a horrible romantic comedy while everyone in my house slumbers I can't believe I am where I am, I've done the things I've done, and where I thought I'd be right now and I drink my last glup (yes gulp) of wine and wonder how this "brief definition" of my life will be in 10 years from now..... Hopefully with a bigger bank account.
Well there ya go, sorry if it's not perfect or edited correctly, but instead of looking threw and making changes for others I'm going to keep it just like this....unperfect just like me!(: