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Quotable Quotes #6

She has really gone bonkers this time! We're sitting here watching "Bones" together and B-boo turns to me and says,

"If I'm ever murdered, I want you and Punky to do everything you can to make sure I'm on this show!"

I cannot believe she said that! Then she says,

"Punky has connections. She's a producer!"

(I'm sorry, Punky, but you've helped feed the monster!)

Chicken Noodle Butt was talking to someone the other day. He mentioned something about pirates. She couldn't understand what he was talking about. He said his pirates. She asked him again what he was talking about. He leans over and whispers to her,
"We're not supposed to talk about our pirates."

Through fits of giggles, we figured it out. He was talking about his privates, not his pirates!

Dream Crushers

I am one angry mom. Why is it that some people think it is OK to be mean just because they are the adult and children’s feelings don’t matter? Or that because they are teenagers, they must not have any feelings?

Our family has visited a local music store on several occasions. We’ve bought music and instruments from them, recommended them, and more. The Talented One loves to go in and play their pianos. He’s always been welcomed. I’d say one of his biggest dreams is to one day own a Baby Grand Piano. He will take any opportunity to play since we don’t have one at home. He’ll go to church early so he can play. He’ll stay late so he can play. He’ll visit music stores so he can play. You see, we don’t have one. We have an 88 key digital keyboard. It’s nice, it works, and he spends hours on the thing! I”m talking at least three hours a day! Playing beautiful, classical music. And making me smile.

I am in awe sometimes at how God chose to bless me with a child who can play so beautifully. With his heart. He doesn’t play to impress. As a matter of fact, he has been our *hidden* talent up until recently when we finally talked him into playing for our children’s concert. It was beautiful. This week we received some rather disturbing news. As we sat together as a family that evening, just being together, the Talented One went over and played; without his ear phones, allowing us to just listen. And relax. And enjoy. A gift from our Lord for sure.

So you can imagine my hurt for my son when he called me on Saturday and asked to come pick him up right away. He just wanted to come home, he said. I knew something was wrong, so I asked my husband to please go get him. He did. I worried. They came home. And my heart broke. So much so, that I’m still stewing about it this morning!

He was in the Family Music Center store playing the piece he’s been working on this week, when the manager came up to him and started yelling at him. She proceeded to tell him that he was disturbing the customers in her store and that he doesn’t know how to play the piano and that he is *no good.* She commanded him to leave the store. He did. In tears. There was more said, but I’ll stop.

Hubby picked him, drove to the store and went in to talk to the manager and find out what her version of the story was. No, he wasn’t being belligerent. No, he was not being rude. Nope, he wasn’t being disrespectful. In her eyes, he was just a teenager in the store playing the piano piece incorrectly, so she felt it was her duty to tell him he was disturbing the customers and didn’t know anything about playing the piano. And yes, she did tell him he was *no good.* And she didn’t care that she’d crushed his dreams. And it didn’t’ matter, because she is the “manager” of this “family” music store.

Well, this family won’t be attending that store anymore.

But, this family will continue to encourage our son. We will continue to remind him of how God has blessed him with an amazing gift; one that is to be shared so that others can enjoy His music. It doesn’t matter what this woman might think. What matters is what God has placed on his heart.

Here is my son, playing his heart.

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Forced to Take it Easy

My hubby has forced me to take it easy today. Sometimes, it's just easier to listen to him. 

But still…..I can't just sit.

So I played today. 

The following is my very favorite picture. It is of my youngest son handing my youngest daughter a butterfly that we'd *hatched* and were about to set free. I love this picture!

Butterfly 

So much so, that I then took it and played a little in Photoshop and came up with this.

Butterfly Spotlight

I've been wanting to design my own theme for my blog for months now, but haven't had the time. Today I had nothing but time, so I played and worked and yelled and played some more, and finally came up with my new theme. Do you like it?

I guess it wasn't so bad after all, my hubby not letting me do a thing.

Reflections

This week has kind of been a blur. The Princess is in the hospital again, which just breaks my heart. As if that wasn't enough, first thing Monday, I received some news. The call went something like this:

Me, "Yes, this is Hope Vivas and I'd like the results of my 2nd mammogram please."

Girl A, "Hold on one moment please."

Girl B, "Ms. Vivas, I just want you to know we've already talked to the breast surgeon and we're setting up your surgery for tomorrow. We just need to check with the schedulers and we'll call you back."

Me, with my brain trying to grasp what she was saying, "Huh?"

Girl B, "The doctor's have already talked and we'll have you scheduled with the breast surgeon within the hour. We're trying to have it done tomorrow."

Keep in mind, I have absolutely, without a doubt, no idea what she is talking about.

Me, "My surgery is scheduled for next Tuesday."

Girl B, "No. That surgery is canceled. They will not do that surgery until they know what is going on with your breast."

Me, "Wait. What is going on with my breast? What did the report say?"

Girl B, "It says it is highly suspicious. I'll call you back within the hour to let you know when your surgery is."

I just kind of hung up the phone, calmly walked outside to my husband and said, "I'm really sorry, but you won't be able to make you're trip this week. I have to see the breast surgeon." And then, I started to cry.

Within the hour, I get another call from Girl B. She states that there are no breast surgeons in this city who take medicaid (my husband has been out of work for three months), so they are going to send me to the diagnostic center for a biopsy and then we'll have more time to find a surgeon. I need to get my films in the meantime. I feel nauseous.

When you get a phone call like this, several thoughts run through your brain. It ended up that I was scheduled for my biopsy yesterday, but on a waiting list for Tuesday and Wednesday. I've decided that people shouldn't mess with me like this. I consider myself a reasonable person and I can take it, if you just let me know what is going on.

So, I get a call from the nurse at the diagnostic center who let me know what to expect. She wants to know if I want Valium. I have a pretty strong tolerance for pain, but I hate, hate, hate needles. And apparently, they're going to be in my breast. For about an hour. My mom says, "You'll want the drugs."

B-boo thought that was funny. It reminded her of the scene in "Last Holiday" when Queen Latifa needs brain surgery and her insurance won't pay for it. She asks the lady how much it will cost, and the lady tells her. Then she says, "That's without anesthesia. You'll want that." We cracked up. We tend to find humor in bad situations. That's how we survive.

So we finally get to Thursday and we walk back, husband and friend in tow. He's cracking jokes. I tell the nurse, "Now you know why I need drugs." She thinks that's funny. Then she's hands me the drugs and tells me to chew and swallow because they'll kick in faster. Taste nasty, but if it works faster, then I'll do it! From there, we go into the room with the big table with a hole in it. I'll be lying there for the next 40ish minutes, hanging through the hole while getting poked and prodded with needles. The show me the pictures of my problem and explain why they need to be removed, how they're going to do it and what they are looking for.  I'm praying the drugs kick in soon.

They don't.

I explain my fear of needles as they prep me for the test. Ladies, that second mammogram wasn't nothing compared to the biopsy!

You have to lay there…and not move. Not that you would anyway, because they've once again, managed to squeeze you into a vice so tight you wouldn't dare even think of moving. Then, I see hoses. I ask what they are for and she says they're the vacuum. I decided to stop asking questions right then and there. I don't want to know anything else.

Next, the nurse asks me to close my eyes. I shut them tight! That can only mean one thing; needles. And the drugs still haven't kicked in.

I feel myself getting sterilized and then she places her hand on my back. The doctor comes in and introduces himself and lets me know what he's doing. They remind me not to move. No problem. They say it will numb me like Novocain numbs at the dentist. (I'm secretly praying this works better since Novocain doesn't always work with me. And believe me, I want this one to WORK!)

One. Two. Three. Four. Four numbing shots. Not fun.

Then, they tell me to let them know if I feel any sharp pains because I'm not supposed to.

Don't worry, I'll let you know! But I just say, "Ok" because I'm trying really hard not to move.

Next, they put the big needle in me. I can feel it, but it doesn't hurt. But it feels big. I could be wrong, but still…..and then, the machine turns on. It sounds something like when they mix paint at the paint store, but it's your breast that's being mauled. This goes on for a while, and then they tell you again,

"Don't move. The needle is still in you and we need to make sure we have all we need."

Yeah, ok, no problem!

After a few more moments, they come back and tell you that they're done. They insert a little titanium clip for future tests as a marker, and then inform you that you have to have yet another mammogram.

"Well then, could you please hurry and do it while my breast is still numb?"

Unfortunately for me, someone else is getting a mammogram, so I have to wait in the waiting room with the other ladies who are waiting for their mammograms. Only, I've obviously just had a procedure (You can tell by the hospital gown and bag of ice), and they're in cute little pink smocks. It's funny being on this side. This time, the other women try to avoid your eyes and the room becomes instantly silent. The air becomes thick and uncomfortable. They all look down at their laps.

Finally, I am called back. It's not near as painful this time. (Of course, I'm still numb!) The nurse says that the 2nd mammograms are the worst. No kidding!

This morning, I'm taking it easy like I'm supposed to. It's hard to sleep when you can't lay down like you want to. I'm sore.

But, I have time to sit and reflect on things. I've done that a lot this week.  My son wants to know why God keeps allowing these things to happen. He just doesn't understand. I tell him, I don't either. But I do know this: We have a big God, who loves us. We have to keep our faith in Him, and trust Him. I do know He'll bring us closer to Him, to us, if we'll allow Him. So, this week, things aren't worth getting upset over.

Instead, I've played cards with B-boo and the Good Looking One's girlfriend.

I've relaxed while I listen to the Talented One play the piano. His music is so soothing.

I smile at myself when I see ALL of the Drama Queen's stuffed animals stuffed against her window, facing out, and tied with the blinds, as if they are looking for Santa or the Tooth Fairy to arrive.

I enjoyed sharing chocolate with Punky and B-boo while we watch a show together. 

I'm taking the time to talk to the friends who call to check in.

I relax as the Smart One brushes my hair for me before he heads off to school.

I enjoy the breakfast in bed that the Drama Queen brings me. Silver tray, plate of toast and eggs, with my favorite jelly. Salt and pepper included and purple flowers to make it look pretty.

I love my husband for being so sweet. And loving. And making me smile in spite of it all.

Quotable Quotes #5

As we were driving on a raining highway the other night, B-boo noticed some *hobos* in a tent in a ditch off of a nearby frontage road. She has a heart for these people and has even started a ministry for them. I'll do anything for this child, but it was almost dark, pouring rain, and it'd been a very long day.

This morning, B-boo, the Talented One and I were driving near the area on our way to his weekly Bowling league. Conversation went something like this:

B-Boo, "Hey, we should go drive by and see if the hobos are still there!"

Me, "You're crazy! Hey, did you remember the coupons."

B-Boo, "Yes."

Me, "I figured you did. You're the responsible one. If you ever did anything irresponsible it would probably be because of your brother. (the Talented One)"

Talented One, "I like Hobos."

B-boo & I crack up.

Me, "Your twin needs to shave his face. He's getting hairy."

Talented One, laughing. "I told him two weeks, but he thought it was three weeks without shaving, so I let him. I want to see what his face looks like."

Me, "You probably did say three weeks, but thought two weeks. He'll probably laugh thinking he's grown more hair than you!"

Talented One, "I only shaved my chin. I'm keeping my soul patch."

B-boo & I crack up again.

"You're WHAT???"

Talented One, "My soul patch. That's what Pastor M calls it."

After we were done laughing, the conversation carried on. But I probably shouldn't share it; it had to do with my mammogram post and well, we should really move forward now.

Incidentally, the Talented One & his Twin had an interesting encounter with a *hobo* after they were done bowling. I've yet to hear the full story, but I know it involved them receiving a hand made cross in return for their generosity.   God is good.