Ya Gotta Read This One! - It's a Vivas Thing!

Dec 26 2009

Christmas Memories

I wasn't sure what this Christmas would hold for my family. It's been a tough year all around, so focusing on the true meaning of Christmas is what has kept me going. And I'll have to admit, this is probably one of the best Christmas's I can remember. Would you like to know why?

My older brother showed up. This may not seem huge; but in the past 9 years, we have seen him all of three times! My kids were thrilled that he came! When B-boo found out, she came running down the stairs screaming, "Uncle Mando is coming, Uncle Mando is coming!"

As if that wasn't enough; my parents showed up. I always know they'll show up, but this year, there were health issues involved and it seemed like it may not happen. Then, while taking a break from shopping, I called to check on her. And she was happy. I told B-boo, "Grandma and Grandpa are here." She asked how I knew and I replied, "She's not crying anymore."

My husband's whole family is also here now. This means that the cousins that adore each other get to spend their Christmas together. It just doesn't get any better than spending the best part of the year with those that you love.

And there was cookie baking. Lots of it.

And then there was the little things.

Like the jacket that I knew B-boo wanted so bad. For weeks I would stop by the store to see if they still had it and if it had gone down in price. They still had it, but it was still too expensive. So I waited. And waited. And finally, when I could wait no more, Mom and I went to get it. It was gone. I was almost in tears. And then Grandma found it; on the clearance rack, marked down only an hour before. 80% marked off!

And in return? Poor B-boo had been dragged all over town with me for well over a year looking for the perfect sheets for my bed. It had to be dark purple, California king sheets. Impossible to find! I finally found a store that carries them, only they were sold out. And yet…

…there they were on Christmas morning; from B-boo. She had found them. And I slept like a baby last night, on my new sheets! I almost cried, that she would do that for her mom.

There was the origami calendar for the Smart One. He loved it! (We should really change his name to Mr. Paper!)

There was the clothes for the Talented One; and the ability to find ones that he loved at the price we could afford!

There were homemade picture frames, pj's and cheese and Yankee candles that I love!

And so much more that I could go on about; like the precious friends that have overwhelmed us with their blessings of goodies and candles and generosity.

There was the brisket from my hubby; my brother will probably never be the same again! (That and the fact that he had his first ever In & Out burger!)

There was the gift from my brother. He bought my kids a Wii! We thought that the Drama Queen would jump through the ceiling she was so excited. She just kept jumping higher and higher screaming, "We got a Wii, we got a Wii!"

And there was Grandpa playing Wii tennis; and hitting his grandchildren in the head with the remote and the laughter that came with it!

And the teenagers explaining to hubby how to play…and which buttons to push, and why he did it wrong…and why we need Wii fit.

Because our arms are sore, but the rest of our bodies aren't.

And there's the slumber parties…and us not knowing which child is staying or going or who's house their going to!

And my beloved son telling me I look like Madame Blueberry in my new purple pajamas. (Yes, my favorite color is purple.)

But I forgave him, because he did this.

These are the things that made my Christmas.

Nov 15 2009

Warning Label

This post is for my women readers only. Trust me, guys, you'll just want to move past this one!

I debated whether I should write this or not. I wondered to myself if I was crossing the line on the blog world of the internet, but then I decided, women everywhere need to be warned. This is serious!

As some of you may remember from a previous post, I hurt my foot. I've been dealing with foot pain for a while now. It's slowly getting better, but it's not all well yet. To help things along, I was given a resistance band. The idea is to sit down, place your legs straight out and then use the band to pull your foot in to stretch the tendons out properly before walking around for the day. I am to do this three times each day. The nurse showed me how to do it and it didn't seem dangerous at all.

As my foot is getting better and today was a bit chilly, I decided to wear my nicer jeans and a sweater to church. The jeans are a bit long since I am a bit short, so I need to wear my boots with them. I thought that if I stretched my foot good, I would be able to stand wearing the boots for a couple of hours at church, especially since most of the time is spent sitting. I had my jeans and tank top on (no sweater yet) and sat down stretch out my feet.

This is kind of what it looks like, except I only stretch one foot at a time. (That's not me, btw!) The nurse explained that your arms get a good work out, too, because you're supposed to pull as hard as you can and stretch your foot towards you to get the tendons to stretch. I've done this exercise a few times with no issues.

Until today.

I started with my right foot. No problem.

I moved to my left foot. No problem.

I moved back to my right foot and that's when it happened.

Big problem.

This is where the warning comes in.

A) Be very careful where you place the resistance band.

B) Be very careful to watch where the band is at all times.

C) Don't pull too hard.

All I remember is that one minute I was pulling and stretching my foot and in the next instant I was doubled over in searing pain, moaning and screaming with tears streaming down my face. I had visions of the scene in "A Christmas Story" when the dad is downstairs in the basement trying to fix the furnace and unrecognized cursing is being sent up through the vent. I saw a white light. I could hear B-boo's concern as she ran into the bathroom with concern, stating,

"Mom, are you ok? I heard a snap. Did you hit your face? Is your nose bleeding? ARE YOU OK, MOM?!?!?!"

All I could do was moan in pain. Serious pain. Blinding pain. And shake my head, "no" to her pounding questions.

When I could finally catch my breath and wipe the tears from my face, I looked up to find her still standing there with concern on her face.

"No, I didn't hit my face. It hit my chest."

Her eyes widened in realization at what her mother had just managed to do to herself. She got it, because she used to be a competitive gymnast and she knows about resistance bands.

I could tell that she was trying hard to decide if she should let the laughter out or not. She was probably wondering if she'd be in pain for laughing at her mother's pain.

Finally, I had no choice but to laugh at the situation, because, after all, I am a Vivas, and this is definitely one of those Vivas Things. She laughed, I laughed, we laughed together.

And then I told her to leave because I needed to check things.

Except for the three inch wide welt that runs COMPLETELY across my chest, I am ok; I think.

I'm hoping the fiery pain will subside soon.

It's probably a good thing it wasn't my face; I'm sure I'd be blinded for real instead of blinded with pain.

Ladies, please heed my warning. This is very dangerous. You have to pay very close attention to what you're doing.

Oh yeah, my foot feels better, thanks for asking.

Nov 04 2009

More Drama

I was telling my friend, Punky, the other day about how much the Drama Queen is really full of drama! She's been that way since I found out I was pregnant with her. To date, here is her drama:

Almost miscarried; then found out I had placenta previa.

Made it through that to have a not so fun delivery.

Sick baby; for months. Finally found out it was food allergies.

She's had many anaphylactic episodes. None of them fun. Obviously.

She tried to chop off two of her toes. Once she was all stitched up and I threw away my white overalls (somehow I didn't think the blood stains would come off!), we took her home where we were told she'd probably not walk for a few days. I laughed. She was running in the backyard and climbing her Mulberry tree the minute we got home!

She swallowed a penny. Insisted it was stuck. Vitals were good, but let's do an x-ray anyway; oh…it's stuck in her throat, let's take her by ambulance to the children's hospital for surgery. After surgery, we're told she won't be able to eat anything for a few days. I laugh. She insists we get her breakfast on the way home as she's starved.

She splits her head open. BAD! CT scan comes out good, so we head home with 17 staples. We're told she'll probably sleep all day. I laugh. We're told to keep her down for the next 48 hours. I laugh again…this time from hysteria.

She drops a Plexiglas drum container on her foot. It probably weighs a couple hundred pounds. She stops crying, but I take her to urgent care anyway. It seems like she's ok….but, she has her mama's high tolerance for pain. The doc takes an x-ray because I insist that it really could have hurt her. Then she sends us on our way, stating that there is no way it is broke because she can move it. Ok. Then she calls us back. The growth plate is indeed broken; doc is shocked. I laugh. She gives us a special shoe:

And tell us to keep her off her foot. We laugh. We go home and decorate the shoe. We also decorate the next three that she goes through. One each week that she manages to destroy. Finally, I just stick her back in her sneakers. Oh…and she loves to gross adults out by showing them which toes is broken…as she moves it. NOOOO!

We've managed to keep her pretty safe for over a year now…almost two!

And then, I made the mistake of asking her to put the dishes away. Simple really, right? Until I hear that scream. You know the one; the one that says someone is hurt? Yeah, that one.

I came around the corner to see a magic blade knife on the counter. I can't see anything but the Drama Queen's head. I say a quick prayer, "Please, Lord, don't let it be blood. I can't handle stitches or staples today."

It turned out it was the stainless steel, copper bottom pot that fell out of her hand and onto….

Yup, the same toe! I wait for a little bit, even though I see it bruising already. Then, hubby and I discuss the situation.

"Well, there was the penny that no one wanted to believe was really stuck. And there was the toe that couldn't possibly be broken."

I call the foot doctor and explain the situation. He says bring her in. Just to be safe. Sure, ok.

The result?

Not only did she manage to fracture her toe again…but the same exact growth plate…again. Yes, she has now twice broken the same growth plate.

Apparently its not good to keep breaking the same growth plate.

Apparently she needs to not move it. (insert hysterical laughter)

Apparently the young-looking foot doctor has met enough of my family now to take me serious when I say she'll break those wooden shoes. (She takes after me; the one who fractured her foot big time and still has no idea how it happened!)

Apparently he's smarter than us; because he gave her a boot to decorate.

One that he insists she can not tear apart. Or break. Or destroy.

Oh, and apparently she's not allowed to climb trees for three or more weeks. And apparently she can't dance.

Which set off more drama…because there are only a couple of things that she requires for her happiness…her mulberry tree and her dancing. So much so, that tonight as I discussed her foot with her dance teacher on Sundays, she suggested letting her sit on the edge of the stage and at least do the hand motions.

But then, we had an *ah ha!* moment. And we remembered that it was the Drama Queen we are talking about. And we had to agree with the doc. No dance. Cause she'll be up on that stage unable to contain her merry self…and jumping around on that toe…and doing some serious harm (again) to that growth plate that just wants to be left alone.

Yea, I'm thinking maybe stitches would have been better. The healing time is shorter.

Oct 22 2009

One of THOSE weeks!

Kristin over at We Are That Family is celebrating her 2 year blogoversary and has asked us to share a THAT Family moment. I thought of linking up the THAT Family Tree Society blog that made me part of THAT Family, but then I changed my mind. I do that. Instead, I thought I'd share one of THOSE most memorable moments!

Thursday & Friday:

It was a week to remember. A very long week. Hubby had been out of town and was finally in the air and on his way home. After a long day, I was finally able to jump in the shower. The Drama Queen, almost 2 at the time, was sitting on the carpet right outside my shower talking to me. When I got out, she informed me she'd just swallowed a penny. Ok. She looked fine. She was breathing. I started to dry myself off. She repeated that she had swallowed a penny…and it hurt. I placed my finger in her mouth and felt around. Nothing. But her eyes were huge and she demanded I take it out. And off to the ER we went, dragging along her then 10 year old brother with us. (The other children were gone that night.)

At the ER, vitals were taken and declared fine, so we were ushered off to a *closet* room so we could double check with an x-ray and go home. In the meantime, the Talented One had been picked up and taken to his Tia's home. I'd left a message on hubby's phone that we were at the ER but everything was fine.

Until they took x-rays. And the technician ran out of the room. Literally, leaving us standing there. And then he ran back to inform me not to move or startle her and that he was calling an ambulance.

NEVER do that to a mom!

The coin was lodged in her throat and she needed to be moved to a children's hospital for surgery, via ambulance. So, I called hubby again and let him know that it wasn't fine after all. And a good friend for prayer, who was wonderful and immediately came to wait with me at the hospital.

And the ambulance came and we drove off with hubby following behind in his car while the Drama Queen waved happily from the ambulance. And she had her surgery and the penny was removed and all was well.

For a couple of days. And then my other good friend went into labor and I spent Monday at the hospital with her.

Tuesday received a call from hubby just after dropping off B-boo at gymnastics. He asked me to meet him at the ER. Not funny when you've spent three of the last five days there. He was serious. The Talented One went back to his Tia's. I went to the ER. The staff there said we looked familiar. We explained we were the parent's of the coin swallower. They said they'd been wondering if it was a quarter. Nope, a penny. Hubby had a badly sprained ankle and so they did a half cast thing and wrapped him up. And I took him home.

Wednesday I woke up to an almost dead Chinese Water Dragon and a very upset son. What's a mom to do? I took the thing to the vet. He told me it was going to die. I cried. Yes, I cried over a lizard. I told him I'd do anything to help keep the little guy alive as we were having a very hard week. It didn't work; the little guy didn't make it.

Thursday we were up early as it was my turn to watch Tia's kids. Things were going smoothly, so the Talented One agreed to watch the little ones play in the yard while I managed to get hubby in the shower as he was starting to smell. We managed to get the splint off when we heard a blood curdling scream. A scream like that is never a good sign. I ran down the stairs with hubby hopping and screaming behind me. As I rounded the corner, the Talented One stood in the doorway with the Drama Queen held tight to his chest. It looked as if a bucket of blood had been poured over them. Oh…and the scalp on the back of her head was hanging down.

I grabbed her, a towel, the keys, and ran out quickly before hubby could see it. And off to the ER we went again. I can't tell you how I managed to somehow drive a stick shift to the hospital while holding pressure to her head and wiping the ants off of her. Not only had she managed to fly off of the swing backwards and land on a 2 by 4, but she'd landed in an ant's nest to top it off! (The swing set was removed from the yard immediately!) As we ran into the ER, they took one look and opened the doors and rushed us back. The conversation went something like this.

Me: "I need a doctor right away."

Nurse: "Ma'm, we need you to calm down."

Me: "I am calm, but we need a doctor right away."

Nurse: "Ma'm, it's not that bad. You need to calm down."

Me: "It's bad. I've seen it. I'll calm down when you get a doctor."

Doctor: "Let's have a look. I NEED A NURSE RIGHT NOW! THIS CHILD NEEDS TO BE SEDATED! WE NEED A CAT SCAN!"

I calmed down. 17 staples later, we headed up to the CT department. Poor little old lady was sitting half asleep on a chair outside the room because she'd been taken out of the machine because of my daughter. We're sorry. You see, we're just THAT kind of family and we were just having one of THOSE kind of weeks.

Oct 10 2009

When They Get It!

As parents, we strive hard to instill values in our children. We hope that they will someday get what we are trying to teach them. In today's society of instant gratification and *I*, it's not so easy. We are constantly battling the television, music, selfishness, etc. that is the norm. One of my favorite scriptures is:

⁴⁰"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.' Matthew 25:40

When my children were younger, my family was more active in mission work. The larger our family became, the harder it became to have the *time* to serve others rather than ourselves. As a parent, we've had to be more creative, and teach our children, that it's not just about going out on a mission, but looking for opportunities to serve; in our home, in our neighborhood, in our church, on our streets. And I'll admit that our lives are so busy, and sometimes, other's won't ask me to help with this or that because of our current family situation; I've learned to say "no" when I need to. But, it is still important for us to have the chance to live outside of ourselves.

Sometimes I wonder if my kids notice; and then one of them does something like start a new ministry for our youth. And well, her heart is like mine; it's like a passion that burns inside of you and won't let go. It's my middle son noticing the homeless man on the street and asking for one of the bags that his sister had made up; and seeing this ministry in action. Or the same son running into the street to help another homeless person who has fallen out of his wheelchair into the street while others just stare or walk away. It's their willingness to stop and pray for someone in the middle of a restaurant because they looked like they needed someone to show them Christ.

Today was one of those days. For my youngest son, who is NOT a morning person and complains every single morning that school should not start before 10 am, it was a proud mama moment when he volunteered to run in a charity race along with his youngest sister and father to raise money for children with cancer. I honestly didn't think he'd make it. He did. He was up at 6 am and ready to go. When I asked him why he got up so well, he replied, "Because it was worth it to get up, Mom."

Last night, my niece brought in her loose change to give to those children because she wasn't able to participate in the run, but wanted to be included in the giving. So she gave all she had, much like the widow's mite.

Not long after the three left for their race, my oldest son called. He was at the park up the street. His fraternity was helping a charity event for children with food allergies and would I come? These busy young college students had gotten up at 6 am on a Saturday morning to help set up tables, chairs, tents, and bouncy houses for the families that were putting on the event. Then they stayed to help run the event, take pictures and then help with the tear down and clean up after. He had no idea when he volunteered that this was a group that could touch our family, too. You see, I have two children with severe food allergies, and this group had managed to raise over $35,000 to raise awareness for children with food allergies!

This evening, I can sit and write out my thoughts; no, my thanks. Thanks to my God, who continues to show me that my children do get it; that He is working in their lives.

I get it.