Miss Piggy is my stepmom

I arrive and sit on the back pew

Just hoping I will make it through the ceremony.

showing up because I felt it was the right thing to do

Someone comes and insists I sit on the front row

A spectacle for all the guests

I try to fight the tears

It is no use

They are stronger than I

He enters and my stomach turns

I can't believe he is doing this

She marches down the isle

Not everyone sees her insincerity 

But I see through her fake smiles

Dressed in green taffeta

As if she's at a prom

Fat bulging, breasts barely contained beneath a ruffled neckline

My son says she looks like Miss Piggy

I laugh because he's right

Dad stands in front of me reciting native American wedding vows

It is all I can do to keep from screaming hypocrit

Youve turned your back on God.

But I am silent.

It is useless

She already has his soul.

 

Silent Movies

Sweet G has a new favorite activity. It all started a couple of days ago when someone, who isn't me, let him watch the beginning of an episode of the World's Dumbest Criminals. After a short viewing and several curse words it was decided that the show might not be appropriate. I, however, did not witness this event and I was coerced into watching said episode under the guise, "Daddy watched it with me yesterday."

After a short viewing and several curse words Mommy decided that  this show is definitely not appropriate. I told G that it makes Jesus sad when we hear things that are not nice. The language was the only offensive part and Sweet G wanted to watch it so badly that I told him he could watch it if he muted the sound. I did this thinking he would not enjoy watching anything without sound. Once again he surprised me. He watched it all afternoon.

Today he started asking if he could watch stand up comedy on his iPod if he watched it without sound. I assured G that stand up comedy is not funny without sound but I could not convince him. I figured he would try it and come to the conclusion that Mommy is right. Wrong! He watched it all afternoon "buetid" (muted in G talk). I mean really, how much fun can it be to watch a person stand on stage not hearing a word they say?

Later in the afternoon G discovered the closed captioning button on some of the videos he was watching. "Look Momma, what is my iPod doing? I like watching it like this! It makes Jesus happy when we watch stand up comedy 'buetid'."

"That isn't exactly what I said, G. I said it makes him sad when we watch things that are bad. It also makes Him sad when we read the closed captioning of bad shows. Do not turn the closed captioning back on. It is wrong to hear bad things and it is wrong to read bad things."

He can't read well enough to read everything they were saying as fast as it appeared on the screen but you never can tell with that boy. I just wonder, what will he come up with next?

Thirty-four Smooshed

A few years ago I reached the magic age in a woman's life when her doctor sends her to the Breast Center. If you keep the right mindset the experience can be quite comical. Breast exams and mammograms are very important and I do encourage women to have their yearly exams. I just want you to know that it really isn't that bad if you keep an open mind.

February is the month for my boobs to get their yearly glamour shots. In fact, I had my appointment today. The breast center that I used moved recently into a new building and it is beautiful and impressive.

I have a wonderful family doctor that must really think a lot of me because last year he started ordering me an extra treat to go along with my photo session. Before they escorted me to the photo studio I am given a thorough massage in another room. Too bad it's not a full body massage, if you know what I mean. They say that they can find lumps sooner during the "Clinical Breast Exam" than they can with the mammogram. If your doctor hasn't ordered you to have a clinical breast exam you need to ask him to. I really think it helps. It's kinda like stretching before you exercise, it just gets everything all loosened up.

After my fifteen minute massage (given by a woman I only met last year) I am told to put my robe on over the beauteous cape they provided me with so we can head to the torture chamber. Of course that's not what the call it but I did notice they have added a guard since last year. She sits in the back lobby under the pretense that she is there to serve you snacks. I wasn't so sure about those snacks and I kept a good eye on Gerty the guard just in case I decided to make a break for it.

After a few minutes of waiting another stranger comes and takes me to the chamber. She has the torture device ready and waiting for its next victim patient. Before I knew what was happening I was slammed up against that cold metal machine and had it in a bear hug. I was tugged and twisted into positions I never imagined. "Face a little to the left, raise your left arm as high as you can, now tilt your head back and twist your neck around and look at the wall behind you." "Okay, now you are going to feel a little pressure," she says as she stepped on a hydraulic pedal. If that wasn't tight enough she gives a couple of twists to another knob to crank it down a little more.

You know, the more I think about it the more I believe there is more to boob sagging and age. Tatas stop being so perky around the age of forty, exactly the same year you have your first mammogram!

Update: After writing this post and prior to publishing it I received the results of my mammogram. There was a change since last year so they wanted me to come back and have a diagnostic mammogram (even more fun than a normal one). I had it done this morning, the radiologists read them before they let me leave, and everything is fine.

I originally wrote this because a fellow blogger wrote about her mammogram experience and I thought it made for a funny story. I didn't know if I would publish this story or keep it for myself but after my return visit I decided my experience might remind someone how important yearly mammograms are. I am blessed that everything is fine. There were other women that didn't get to leave with the same results as mine.

The Hour Disability Didn't Exist

It was an unusually warm January day. The world was bright and beautiful. It felt much more like springtime than it did winter. A little boy climbed a hill using his walker, a constant reminder of his disability. As I climbed the hill beside him I had no idea that a miracle was waiting for us at the top?

You see, there was an enchanted object waiting for us to arrive. Most kids take these magical possessions for granted, often leaving them out in the rain or lying in the grass where they drop them to lay forgotten until dad mows the lawn. Those kids don't see the magic of the object, to them it's just a common thing, something everybody has. Sweet G and I know that there is nothing ordinary about this thing because we know that the one waiting for us has the ability to make disability totally disappear.

Sweet G approached the item with the aid of his walker but once he turned loose and was safely seated, his disability faded away. It not only faded away for Sweet G, it disappeared from the consciousness of everyone on that hilltop. For an hour Sweet G was just a normal kid. My husband and I were just typical parents. We witnessed something that I had given up hope of G ever being able to experience.

You are probably wondering what was waiting for us on the hill that day. It was a bicycle, not a regular bicycle but a magical one. Someone special provided a hand cycle for children at Infinity Children Services to use. I have no idea who they are but I owe them a huge thank you because when he was on that bike something mystical happened. As he put his hands on the handgrips and started to pedal, he broke away from the bonds of his disability. 

We spent the next hour running back and forth in the parking lot on top of the hill laughing, cheering and forgetting that disability exists. For an hour Sweet G literally pushed his therapist aside and said, "I've got this. I don't need you." Giggles filled the air as my little boy sped back and forth in a small parking lot on a magical bicycle that has the ability to make disability disappear. For an hour he was simply a little boy having a normal experience with his parents.

Sweet G's passion for life outshines the darkness of his disability. He inspires me to overcome the challenges I face with dignity and grace. Sweet G has life figured out. He knows the secret to living a full and abundant life regardless of his circumstances. The world would be a better place if we were all a little more like my G. If a miracle cure was found today that would forever erase every trace of G's disability, I'm not sure I'd want him to receive it. However, I would like for G to have one of those magic hand cycles so that when ever he wanted we could make his disability disappear for an hour or two. ; )

Our Smokie Mountain Adventure: Part 1

The day was filled with excitement because my family and I were leaving after school to go on a weekend trip with a few of my classmates from high school. We had rented a huge house and were going to spend the next three days catching up with each other. It had been snowing here most of the day so school was released early. We hurriedly finished packing and finally hit the snow covered roads headed for the mountains three hours away.  A few of my classmates had already arrived at the cabin and reported no problems on the roads, so we kept our focus on getting there as quickly and safely as possible.

The roads began looking worse the farther from home we got. It was late afternoon and we felt sure that if we made it by dark we would be okay. My son and his girlfriend we're following us in his car. It is his first real experience on the interstate and his first time driving in snow. Needless to say, I was a nervous wreck. About half way into our trip I started to feel sorta queasy. I assume that it is nerves and car sickness and manage to keep my nausea at bay until we stop for a bathroom break. As we are about to pull back out into the roadway a sudden surge of nausea hits and I lose both my battle and lunch in the blink of an eye. It is now that I start to question whether I could possibly be suffering from more than car sickness and nerves but we have come to far to turn back now. We are closer to the cabin than we are to home and it is beginning to get dark.

Back on the highway we drive slowly making our way to our destination. We turn off the main road onto a very narrow country road filled with hills and curves.. Cars are sliding off the roadway. So far we are fine and haven't had any trouble. We were within a couple of miles of our destination. This is the point that my "friends" decide to tell us that we will not be able to get to the house. The drive is icy and dangerous. They tell us to stop at a convenience store about a mile from the cabin.

I have managed to keep from throwing up since our last stop but as the gravity of our current situation sinks in, my nausea comes back with a vengeance. My husband buys me some zip lock baggies and I begin to fill them up. One mile separates us from a nice cozy cabin filled with old friends. We can't walk the rest of the way in the dark pushing our disabled son in his wheelchair. What are we going to do?

To be continued. . .