Mama Vivas - It's a Vivas Thing!

Jun 22 2009

Laughable Moment #14

On Father's Day we went out to lunch. When we got around to ordering, the Talented One asked my nephew what it was he wanted to eat. The conversation went something like this:

"What do you want to eat?"

"I want chicken butt."

Shocked, the reply was, "You want chicken nuggets?"

"No, I want chicken butt."

"You want a taco?"

"No, I want chicken butt."

"There is no chicken butt."

"Yes there is. I want chicken butt."

We tried hard, amid the fits of laughter, to convince him that there was no such thing as chicken butt. We have no idea where he got it from. If he's said Elephant brains, well, that would be us warping his young brain…but chicken butt? Nope..we aren't to blame for that one!

We finally convinced him to have a taco. Then he changed it to a cheeseburger. We told him no more changes. When the waiter came to take the order, he proudly told the waiter what he wanted to order.

"I want chicken butt!"

"You want chicken nuggets?"

"No, I want chicken butt."

"Excuse me, he'll have a cheeseburger, thank you."

Jun 21 2009

My Dad

I was talking to my mom yesterday and she was telling me about a package that was delivered to Dad; for Father's Day. And it dawned on me, that for the first time, I'd let it slip that it was even Father's Day at all. No gift was sent, and I felt terrible. I'm sorry, Dad, I really am.

It dawned on me, that I am so consumed with all that is going on with my life, that me, Miss Organization, can't even remember what today is, let alone what is going on tomorrow. I have a calendar that is so full, it is color coded. You'd probably cry if you looked at it; I know sometimes I want to. There really isn't anything that can be taken off, it just is what it is. It is mostly filled up with doctor and counseling appointments. I've told my family that if it is not in writing on my calendar, it does not exist. Sometimes I feel like I need a t-shirt that says, "I'm a stay-at-home mom, and I have no life."

I don't really feel that way most of the time. I love my family. I love my children. I love my niece and nephew. But these days I find my brain disappearing and being replaced with slush. Last night, I was on the phone with my husband and told him that I was going to pick up our son. In the same conversation, I reminded my husband that my son needed his meds. My daughter looked at me like I was crazy and my husband started laughing at me…because I had just said I was going to pick him up; which meant he could not be home with my husband. And so now; I've forgotten a special day. And I'm all about special days. I love them; ask anyone who knows me and they'll tell you that I, Hope Vivas, am all about a reason to celebrate anything.

And I forgot my dad. And I feel terrible. He doesn't deserve that.

And then, I started thinking about Dad. And I couldn't stop. I thought, maybe, just maybe, he'd like to know what I really think about him. So, the rest of this blog is for my dad, because I love him so much. Dad, you probably have no idea how much I really adore you. I do.

One of my best memories is you taking us camping; every where, all the time. I loved going camping! I loved the soft ball games, and the campfires, and the roasted marshmallows. I loved it when you hid behind a tree and would growl like a bear. We knew it was you, but it still scared us anyway. And we loved that we were scared by your growling!

I love that you never ever made us feel like we wanted for anything. I can't remember a time of really wanting anything or being told no. We wanted to live in the country, we lived in the county. We wanted horses, we got them. Dirt bikes; we got them. There was never a want, because you worked so hard to provide our every dream to us. There were never any mansions, but that was ok, because you gave so much, we didn't need to dream of something bigger or better.

We lived a pretty simple life, but it was a wonderful life. Do you know what my favorite memory of you is? It is when we were playing in the snow on the round saucers. You and I went roaring down a hill lickety split! We went down so fast that we crashed into the bank. Up into the air we went flying, with you landing in the street and me on top of you. And we laughed so hard. I think of that often. That is how I always want to remember you; laughing, because you were happy to be spending time with me.

I remember hiking through the snow to chop down our own Christmas tree.

I remember standing around the stove in the early mornings in Colorado trying to stay warm.

I remember Mustard. How many parents would take care of a baby deer? I realize mom did the taking care part, but you could have said no way. You didn't. Art is like that. Poor man never knows what he may come home to. (I inherited that from mom, I guess.)

I remember the frogs in Oregon and the slugs. And how you used to pour salt. UGH.

And the lizards and the ice. My kids love it when you do that.

I remember the Mussels on a cold Oregon beach.

We have so many childhood memories, because you insisted on doing things together as a family. Sometimes that meant the family was attacked by a hive of bees, but hey, at least we were together! And the slide rocks; now a national park…but I can fondly remember the time when it was au natural…and the fun we had.

Mesa Verde, Yosemite, Yellowstone, Beaches…so many memories.

I remember catching the sucker fish on that cliff…I think it was in Oregon. You had double hooked my line. I was so excited to catch a fish and I could barely pull it in. You helped, and when we finally got it within sight, it was two huge sucker fish! What a day!

It was you that taught me the value of a simple photograph.

I remember that it was you who picked me up and carried me out to the car the night I lost my daughter.

It was you who carried me to the truck and rushed me to the hospital a few years later when I popped my stitches while camping.

It was you who begged me not to have anymore children, but to please adopt if we still wanted more.

I know you've paced and fretted and worried over me over the years. I know you love me.

And you've passed on great things to my children. Jonathan is so excited, because he thinks he's old enough to finally be able for Grandpa to teach him how to drive the Bobcat. He knows that's your tradition and he wants his turn.

You've given my children Yellowstone, fishing, camping, roasted marshmallows and growling bears behind a tree. You've given them the lizards and snakes and a love of nature.

You've given us all so much. I fretted because I didn't purchase a gift for you. And then I realized, maybe, just maybe, the best gift I could give you is to really let you know how much you mean to me, to my family, to our family. Because I don't think I've told you enough how much I really love you and look up to you. I'm not sure you realize just how great of a dad or a grandpa you are.

You are the best. You are number one in my book. And you have left and are still leaving a legacy of your self that will always be remembered.

This is my favorite picture of my dad.
Why? Because it shows how much he loves his family and wants to capture every moment with them.

Jun 20 2009

Reactive Attachment Disorder

Reactive Attachment Disorder, also known as RAD. Words to describe it: heartbreaking, sad, exhausting, overwhelming, confusing, frustrating. It's something that most people probably would not understand unless they've lived with it. A quick trip the grocery store might turn into a long battle that makes you want to quit and just go home. A simple play time might turn into something ugly. There is a need to be right at all times; a need to be in control at all times. Some say the closer you get, the harder it gets. You are pushed away and then pulled close. Bingo…I think that's the best way to describe it; a constant pushing and pulling. Common symptoms of RAD include:

A child who is superficially engaging and charming with strangers and visitors.
A child who is Indiscriminately affectionate with strangers, including hugging and talking about intimate family details.
A Child who fails to make or maintain eye contact on his or her parent's terms.
A child who is not affectionate on his or her parent's terms, but may be over huggy and clingy on their own terms.
A Self-destructive and/or accident prone child.
Hurtful or unsafe with others and material property.
A child who is cruel to animals.
Lying about the obvious, nonsense lying. Even when no real motivation for a lie exists.
Stealing, including items of no use to the child.
A child with no impulse controls. Often labeled as hyperactive.
Lack of normal developmental and behavior milestones.
Learning Lags.
Unable to understand cause and effect.
Appears to lack a conscience.
Eating disorders.
Poor social and peer relationships.
Some children are preoccupied with fire .
Some children are preoccupation with blood and gore.
Persistent nonsense questions and chatter
Abnormal speech patterns, baby talk or nonsense talking, gibberish.
Triangulation of adults. Manipulation of situations between adults.
Presumptive entitlement issues.
Parents appear hostile and angry and over controlling.

My niece has RAD. She exhibits most of the above symptoms. She is beautiful. She is wonderful. She is wonderfully made. She desperately needs love; unconditional love. She often feels alone, retreating to herself. I'd love for her to realize one day, she's not. She's not alone. She's worthy. She's lovable. She's wanted. She's valued.

Through a series of unfortunate events, we are here. We're told that the best thing; the only thing that will help my niece is to give her a stable, long-lasting home. It will take a lot of work. It will be hard on the rest of the kids and family. We will have to find the balance. It is hard; very hard. It is exhausting.

A wise friend told me a couple of weeks ago that I needed to put on my armor. She could see that I was exhausted and felt like I was too tired to go on. I just looked at her and told her that I didn't have the energy anymore. I love her, because she wouldn't take that as an excuse from me. She was loving, yet firm, and told me to stand up each morning and put on the armor. She said that I was in a fight, a fight for my children. And she was right. I need to stop trying to do it alone and realize that God knows. He is in control. He loves my niece more than I do. So, I put on my armor each day. I found this prayer on Google…I like it.

Armor of God Prayer

Today is a new day. I will rejoice and be glad in it.

Isaiah 40:28-31
²⁸ Do you not know?
       Have you not heard?
       The LORD is the everlasting God,
       the Creator of the ends of the earth.
       He will not grow tired or weary,
       and his understanding no one can fathom.

²⁹ He gives strength to the weary
and increases the power of the weak.

³⁰ Even youths grow tired and weary,
and young men stumble and fall;

³¹ but those who hope in the LORD
       will renew their strength.
       They will soar on wings like eagles;
       they will run and not grow weary,
       they will walk and not be faint.

Jun 18 2009

Things We Were Never Told About Being a Mom

I've been thinking about motherhood. You know, the kind of mommyhood really, where you never thought you'd do this or that? I remember being a child and wanting a large family. I wanted 8 kids and I was going to be a great mom. I'd cook for them, sew for them, play with them, and we'd be the best family there ever was.

Well, I am 40 years old. I have 5 kids, plus guardianship of my niece and nephew. Seven kids. Yup! Ok, well my oldest is 21 and living on his own now, but I'm still his mom. I took my youngest son to a doctor's appointment this week, and as we were sitting there discussing some stuff, the doctor brought out a poopy chart. I didn't know such a thing existed! In case you'd like to know what a poopy chart is, you can see it for yourself right here. The next few moments were a discussion of poopies, what they look like, etc.

Never in my daydreaming of motherhood did I imagine myself someday looking at a poopy chart! And I got to thinking…what else did I not ever think I'd do as a mother? I mean, motherhood is VERY different than what I imagined it'd be. Better, but different. So here's my list of thing's I never imagined I'd do as a mom:

Look at a poopy chart (sorry, I just can't get past the poopy chart!)
Cook chocolate covered mealworms for my son's birthday and feed them to his friends.
Pull a cockroach out of my 18 month old's mouth, alive and kicking (the cockroach, that is) not once, but twice. Ewww
Explain to a police officer that I am sorry there have been three 911 calls from this number of the past couple of years, but please be patient and understand I have five children; it's bound to happen again.
Explain to a profusely bleeding child as we run out of the mall that this is an ideal time to call 911.
Make green eggs and ham.
Homeschool.
As a mom who hates needles, I never ever expected I'd have to give my child a shot of epi during an anaphylactic reaction. Yes, I can do it if necessary!
Be able to drive a stick, hold a cloth to my child's severely bleeding head and get us to the hospital in less than five minutes. (She lived, but has a great scar after 17 staples to the head.)
Have to figure out how to cook a great dessert/meal without gluten, wheat, dairy, eggs, soy or nuts.
Find my daughter's frozen tastebuds connected to the top of a frozen orange juice can because her siblings convinced her to put her tongue on it after watching "A Christmas Story."
Take a dying lizard to the vet , crying, hoping that we could save it so my son would not be sad.
Have a range of pets over the years consisting of rats, hamsters, parakeets, lovebirds, ball phythons, garden snakes, water dragons, japaluras, rabbits, dogs, and whatever else I can be talked into.
Have a 7 ft python brought to my house…and then hold it.
Be filled with so much love.

I'm sure there is much more, but this is what I could come up with on the spur of the moment. Anyone else want to share?

And speaking of moms who could never have imagined, please pray for my friend, Kayla and her son, Elijah. She's such an inspiration. Elijah has EG and is tube fed a special formula. In my book, Kayla has gone above and beyond in the motherhood category. You can read her story at Bristle Ridge Academy

Jun 16 2009

Surviving without B-Boo!

B-Boo and I started traveling together when she was about 7 years old. She was in competitive gymnastics and so from the months of January thru February, we would take off on the weekends for competitions. We did this for four years. A lot of the trips the rest of the family would come along, but for almost as many we traveled together, just the two of us. B-Boo became great at packing in a heartbeat for whatever trip we were headed out to together. She stopped competing a couple of years ago, and while I don't think either of us misses the grueling competition schedule much, we both will admit to missing the traveling part of it! What fun we had traveling with a team of girls, getting stuck in airports, elevators and fixing up their hair for competition.

Then B-Boo got sick…and we started traveling to doctor's offices together. Again, we had a system…because waiting in waiting rooms day after day, week after week is not a lot of fun. So, we'd pack cards and a cell phone full of games. We'd play speed and yahtzee and make the best of it. Her illness took us from Los Angeles to Kansas City, Missouri, so again, we traveled, this time taking her younger sister with us. It is amazing how much we can pack in a suitcase or a duffel bag!

She is finally at a time in her life when she is healthy for the most part and ready to travel for fun, but there aren't a lot of those trips right now. Bummer. These days our trips consist of running to the grocery store, the bank, Walmart or the mall. Even more, they consist of me running out the door, almost late for yet another appointment, while she pushes me out with whatever items I need for the day. You know what's amazing? I don't even have to tell her what I need! She just knows. She'll be at the door saying,

"Mom, go! The kids are in the car, your purse is in the car and (whatever papers I need for that day) are in the car."

And then she'll hand me my cell phone and either come with me or push me out the door.

She's like this when we go to the grocery store, too. Sometimes we're not in a hurry to get somewhere else fast, so we'll take a stroll together through the store and have a nice chat. Other days, she knows we're on a time limit, so she'll say, "Ok, what else do we need?" and off she goes to get it. That girl has more of me in her than I realized!

This week I'm in Loma Linda with my son (and youngest daugter). After a very long Sunday night, I was exhausted yesterday, yet needed to travel to California. As I was trying to pack, she started adding things in.

"I know you're going to need this, Mom, I know you."

She was right, of course. Even knowing that this time, I'd be traveling without her, she was still trying to help me get out the door. What an awesome daughter I have!

I started missing her quickly. I'm so used to her sitting next to me, my copilot. She'll get me a drink when mine is empty; making sure to open it up for me and have it ready to grab. She knows exactly where to put my hot tamales, as I never travel without them. She knows exactly where to find the map when I'm not sure what street to turn on. (She's not so great with reading a map, so this is where we kind of draw the line!)

She's spoiled me so much! Yesterday, I had to ask my youngest daughter to open my drink for me, please. Then I had to ask her to open my hot tamales. It just wasn't the same, not having B-Boo next to me. The younger children ride in the back, so I am up front all by myself. (I have that song, "All by myself, Don't wanna be" running through my head right now!) I really miss her!

When I hit San Bernadino, my son jumped up into the co-pilot seat…ready with the map. He apologized for not being a better co-pilot. I thought that was funny. I never said anything to him about being a co-pilot, but apparently he's picked up on this particular job that B-Boo has done for so long. He's not so great with drinks and hot tamales, but we did learn he has one particular skill.

He can read a map!

Last night, I didn't sleep so well. Why? Well, because I left my pillow in the van…you know, the one that B-Boo threw in at the last moment saying, "I know you, Mom, you'll want your pillow." She was right, or course.