An MRI is Not a Photo-Shoot of Your Brain

Last week I had an MRI of my brain.  No, this was not one of those optional things like getting a choice of fries or applesauce with that burger.   No one says “Hey, Doc, I’d really like to have an MRI.  It sounds like such fun! Can you set me up for one on my lunch break?”

I mean, really…I guess I could have put a funny spin on it and told my friends and family “My brain was in a photo-shoot with an exclusive photographer {radiologist}.  I’m so honored they chose me!”  But somehow I don’t think my family would have appreciated me teasing them in this situation.  Because, you see, these medical people were looking at my brain, after all. 

{{Not one more word from you, Honey!}}

Anyway, this all started with me getting daily headaches and dizzy spells, which is strange since feeling dizzy has never been an issue for me.  Being a Florida native I have always flocked with my family – the theme park crowd — to Orlando where we have ridden almost every ride ever invented.  I mean, come on now…I am the queen of the Mad Hatter’s teacups in the Magic Kingdom, and I’ve been known to ride the Manta flying roller-coaster at SeaWorld eight times in a row. So this recent dizzying experience has knocked me a little off track.

Well, then my doc ordered me an MRI.  It sounds kind of funny the way they say it like that.  Like it’s some kind of fast food order.  Now I really did have a hankering for some fries.

The next person I spoke with on the phone was the scheduling concierge.  As though I was about to make a reservation in a 5-star hotel.  After she set up my appointment she asked me all kinds of personal questions like “Do you have anything metal in your head?” — a big tip-off this wasn’t a hotel — then proceeded to enlighten me about the perks of my upcoming MRI.  Can you guess? She said I could bring a cd so I could listen to music. Oh joy.

But actually, the idea of listening to music sounded more appealing as I learned more info about MRI’s {thanks to the internet…big mistake}.  I read that they’re loud. And a bit confining.  And my concierge had said that mine was going to take about an hour.  More joy.

So the morning of my big test had arrived.  Me and TechDaddy, who took the day off of work, arrived at the medical plaza early, registered, and proceeded to wait.  When my turn came up I was all ready.

  • No metal on my body {that means on undergarments too, girls}. 
  • No makeup on my face because it could contain metal…eww. {Mental note to self: don’t put that stuff on your face again. Ev-er.}
  • CD of my fave music {that my sweetie, TechDaddy, made for me from my fave iTunes playlist…I heart him}

There was just one problem.  The machine in the medical plaza — where we were waiting — was busy so we were supposed to walk next door to use the machine in the hospital.  The machine that did not have music listening capabilities. Uh, no joy.  None at all.  They had told me I could have music to get through this test — music to calm the fears and “what if’s” that had been trying to take over for days — and now they tell me to change?! The tears were brimming at my eyelids when my knight quickly came to my rescue.

TechDaddy stepped up and said for me what was going through my head. “Uh, no. We’ll wait for this machine.” It won’t be ready for two more hours. “That’s okay.  We’ll wait.”  Wow. I deeply love that man.

So the time finally came hours later and I had the MRI.  Laying on a table with my head in something similar to a cage, then being slid into a long tube, and being told to keep my head completely still while this machine made LOUD banging and whirring sounds and shook like an Apollo rocket taking off…could you do that?  I’m used to moving some part of my body 99% of the time voluntarily. I sway in line at the grocery store. I even wiggle my toes while I sleep. So me holding still was definitely an act of God.

Afterward I found TechDaddy in the waiting room, hunkered down in a chair with his iPad in blog-reader heaven. {There he is on the left…isn’t he cute?!}  As he packed up, I mulled over how I made it through.  All I can say is praise the Lord for music and prayer. Really. The music from my cd, that was piped into some funky earplugs, helped keep me from pushing the emergency button in my hand over and over again. There’s nothing like hearing the Newsboys sing “In Wonder” to get your mind off the craziness around you. And nothing could surpass the feeling that Jesus was right there, in the tube of that giant magnet, holding me close.

I never heard from my concierge again.  Good thing for her. For one thing, this was nothing like she described.  {I secretly believe I was in some kind of astronaut training.}  And another thing, if this was supposed to be like a hotel, then I would have ordered a massage after that experience. No…a massage, mocha shake, and waffle fries. And I would have wiggled my toes. A lot.

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Christmas Funnies

That title above might be a bit misleading…sorry ’bout that.  I’m not referring to the funnies as in “the funny pages”.  In this post I’m going to point you in another direction.

Seeing as my foursome are still on an extended Christmas break, I’m a bit too busy to post in great detail every day

Okay…truth is, I’m feelin’ lazy. Happy?  But I love a good laugh and especially love sharing laughs with others, so until my funny bone gets back in gear you might like reading about the cat, the lizard, or the squirrels.

In any event, hope you enjoy the rest of 2009!

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Thankful

I know it’s not Thanksgiving anymore, but I found this at Bunny Trails and couldn’t resist. After all, I’m thankful all year long for what and whom is on my list (and not in any order). Enjoy!
1. My man, Spider X (such a great best friend)
2. Catz, my sweet girl
3. Mr C, my funny boy
4. afternoon sun shining in my bedroom window
5. music, preferably played loud
6. my home
7. the scent of a roaring fire
8. Krispy Kreme donuts
9. muffins, cupcakes, and all foods baked
10. our Nikon D70
11. my hubby’s ultimate computer intelligence
12. our quiet neighborhood
13. my mom (my prayer warrior)
14. homeschooling (What a blessing!)
15. Photoshop
16. my lost Ipod (I miss you!)
17. old movies
18. our cat-kids
19. my sisters
20. my brothers
21. memories of Dad
22. memories of my brother Roger
23. 2nd chances
24. the smell of cookies baking (or anything baking for that matter)
25. being sick-free since August
26. spending time with my family
27. Netflix (who knew?!)
28. yummy bread (Swedish coffecake…mmmm!)
29. my 3 oldest nephews and their positive impact on my kids
30. seeing bears walking in my neighborhood
31. traveling with my family
32. camping
33. Christian music
34. my garden
35. brownies (preferably made with Ghiradelli chocolate)
36. healing of Mr C’s former wart colony
37. Baby Blues comic strip
38. Mac & Cheesy (not-enuf) Ham
39. the smell of sweet alyssum
40. playing in the dirt
41. taking fun photos of my kids
42. Family Movie time
43. Rose is Rose comic strip
44. The Peanuts theme song
45. pizza (almost any kind, anytime)
46. baking
47. God, my heavenly Father
48. blogging (It’s fun!)
49. family-friendly movie companies
50. flannel sheets (snuggly warm!)
51. hot chocolate with whipped cream
52. praying in the shower
53. leftovers (I don’t like to eat ‘em, but I like to serve ‘em when I’m busy.)
54. the experience we had raising the squirrels
55. scrapbooking (Gee, I’d like to do that someday…it looks like fun.)
56. reading funny posts that make me LOL
57. crafts
58. JoAnn’s and Michael’s
59. getting nails done with Catz
60. swinging with Mr C (He’s so snuggly but almost too big for my lap!)
61. baking with the kids
62. my sewing machine (what is that racket?)
63. Belgian chocolate shake at Hagen Dazs
64. Spider X’s desire to make me happy
65. sewing
66. being married to my beloved
67. the nice folks at the supermarket (I practically live there)
68. Shoebox Heirlooms
69. cooking shows
70. when my family is happy
71. the Magnum
72. my MIL and FIL (’cause they raised my beloved)
73. buffets (I love a variety!)
74. God’s never-ending grace
75. Spider X’s vast knowledge of everything computer/electronic/gadget
76. wildlife in our yard

 

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That Cat!

I’m too busy for this. Too busy for what, you say?
It was early this morning when I made it into the kitchen to discover the massacre. There they were lying on the floor. One was dismembered, one was badly scarred across the stomach. The rest…well, they didn’t make it. The beast had gotten to most before I arrived on the scene.

The victims? Our gingerbread people. The culprit?

The cat — which one of our cats didn’t matter since they’re a conglomerate when even one causes me grief. So they’re all guilty.

While we were sleeping somebody grabbed the package of freshly baked g-men (okay, too funny). Mr C, who decorated them along with Memom, was devastated.

I didn’t catch who did it, but I had my suspicions. Thing 1 loves chewing on plastic bags. Go figure. But Thing 2 loves eating anything the humans eat. Hmmm.

So I forgot the whole deal while I was at the dentist. Yea, that was a real Christmas treat, too.

Once home again the kids and I were sitting on the couch eating lunch when Thing 2 walked up. With a distinct odor. I lifted his tail to reveal evidence that a major explosion had just taken place. So, how’re those sandwiches, kids?!

Upon confirming said explosion in the litter box — you don’t want those details — I realized that I had found the perpetrator of the cookie carnage from this morning. Gingerbread may be every humans’ dream, but it just doesn’t agree with a cat’s constitution.

I unceremoniously dropped Thing 2 in my shower and closed the shower door.

A shower stall is like solitary for cats. They can see what’s happening outside their prison – like Thing 1 rolling around on the bathroom floor with some catnip – but they can’t get out. The deliciously slick, 5′ shower walls are immune to even the sharpest feline claws. And no, my cats cannot jump five feet. Otherwise I’d be on Circus of the Stars.

So I finally climbed into the shower with Thing 2 but was determined to not get wet this time. Yes, this happens occasionally. He’s a long-haired cat and, sorry to say, poop happens.

I rolled my jeans up to my knees and pushed back my sleeves. This chick is not getting wet. Maybe damp, but not wet.

So I attached the sprayer-hose-thingy to the shower head, turned on the water, and proceeded with the fun. I decided to just clean up the necessary end of the cat since, well, I just don’t have time for this.

As I finished, Thing 2 decided he was going to make a run for it. Via my body. With help from his claws. But he forgot, as he always does, that I am so on to him and his tricks. So as he starts to shimmy up my left leg in a vain attempt to reach my skull and leap over the shower wall, I scruff him and place him in the corner. With Baby.

So there, a little damp but still doing fine. Ha!

It was at this time that I made a monumental mistake and unhooked the sprayer-hose-thingy from the shower head. Without first turning the water off.

It was like a Lucy moment with the water spraying me in the face, soaking my shirt and pants before I had the sense to shut off the water. Looking at the cat, I swear I saw him smiling.

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Praying for Snow

I know, I know.  Just yesterday I was lauding the fact that here, in Florida, we have been without snow while almost the rest of the nation has been inundated with the stuff.

I have always been content that Florida has remained as God has intended this state to be. Snow-free.

So it might be a surprise to anyone reading this that I now want snow.  Here.  At my house.

{{A surprise to everyone but you, Honey, since you know how often I change my mind. Wink, wink.}}

In fact, I’m so eagar for snow that I’m praying for it.  This is a surprise to me since snow has never been on my prayer list or shown up in my prayer journal.  Not once. 

But as the local weather forecasters have been dangling the idea of snow over my head for a few days now, I am very hopeful — prayerful — that the frozen precipitation will actually arrive at my house this weekend.

Notice that I said “arrive at my house“.  I know full well that any snowflakes in these-here-parts will melt as soon as they hit the ground, if not sooner. C’mon, I was born but not yesterday.

I also have previous experience with Florisnow — my own favorite new label for silly snowflakes that try to fall in the Sunshine state.  When I was a little cutie all of 8-years-old and living in South Florida, we were surprised with a mere shimmering of Florida snow in January.

I was home with the chicken pox and my mom called me to come outside.  As my dad was getting ready to leave for work, we caught sight of little Flori-flakes {hee hee} melting as they landed on his coat.  It was neato!  I’ll never forget that moment.

And so I’d love to share a moment like that with my chicklets and hubby.  We’ll see what God has planned.  Nothing is impossible with Him.  Even snow in Florida.

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The Taint of Grape Soda

{Note:My tongue is firmly planted in my cheek for this post, y’all!}

Do you remember Peewee’s?  When I was a little girl back in the 70′s — the Dark Ages according to my chicklets — my daddy would once in a while bring home little bottles of Peewee soda for my sisters and me.  I was about three or four then.  I don’t remember much from back then, but I think those drinks are partly responsible for my love of grape soda today.

The other reason I love the fizzy grape stuff?  My daddy.  He loved grape soda. My mom made sure we all ate healthy food most of the time, but on special occasions we had plenty of not-so-healthy snacks and soda.  And we always had the grape stuff on hand.

And with most things we parents love, we usually want to pass that love of something special down to our kids.  So imagine my disappointment when my kids turned their noses up at the offer of grape soda.  Ah! How can it be?  What could possibly have caused this dislike of something so pure, so right, so full of massive amounts of sugar and food coloring?

It was…children’s pain reliever! {gasp} Oh no!  How did TechDaddy and I miss this?  We should have seen this coming.  Seen it and stopped it in its fever-and-pain-reducing tracks.  Who knew so many years ago that in its ability to make my achey, feverish toddlers feel better, this charlatan would warp my kids taste buds and brain cells to produce one of the most heinous of circumstances…the taint of grape soda!

Why, oh why, didn’t they just leave well enough alone?  So what if the old pain reliever was bitter and caused your tongue to curl up in a wad in your mouth and cry.  So what if it made your kids run and hide in the bathtub. They didn’t have to take down all things grape in order to get kids to “like” their medicine, did they??

And yes, all things grape have been tainted.  Why, the other day my 12-year-old son was looking for a snack {after eating enormous amounts of healthy fruit first, of course}.  He found a grape-flavored lollipop sitting all alone on the pantry shelf and said “Can I throw this away? Nobody’s going to eat it.”  After asking why he wouldn’t want to enjoy it, he reacted with a grossed out face and replied “No way, yuck. It’s grape. It tastes like medicine.”  And my 14-year-old agreed. Oh, the horror.

He then turned into MacGyver, whacking the pop with a hammer just to see it splinter into a zillion pieces all over my kitchen.  And he didn’t even flinch when he saw it’s chewy-chocolate center.  This is how bad the taint of grape has become!  And it doesn’t stop at grape.  Oh, no!  Orange soda has been tainted as well as bubble gum flavor!  So protect your legacy of all things yummy, and beware of the grape soda taint!

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About Me

Hey there, I’m Susan.  I began this blog in 2008 on a whim and started writing occasional snippets about everyday things.  My favorite posts from back then were those that made my family laugh!

Speaking of my family, those astoundingly awesome people include:

  • TechDaddy, my husband  {I love him so, and not just for his cool ninja computer skills}
  • Catz, my 15 year old daughter  {She’s all wit and style rolled into one beautiful young lady.}
  • MrC, my 13 year old son   {He’s got the tech world covered with his razor-sharp video gaming abilities.}

My family is made up of the three most amazing people on the planet. I adore my husband and kids with every ounce of my being and will go to the ends of the earth for them.  Spending time with my crew is my ultimate relaxation technique.

So, who are you?

In a nutshell, I’m a wife & mom.  Refer to me as “Little Susie Homemaker” or “just a SAHM” and watch my face light up a room.  This is a role I was made for.  That doesn’t mean I skip around with a grin every moment of every day, making cookies and dusting the chandelier.  To be honest, I’m on a first-name basis with all of the dust bunnies and cobwebs hiding out in my home, and I don’t even have a chandelier. Not that I’d dust it if I did.  But I do make cookies, so if we become friends I’ll keep you supplied with some of the best recipes you’ll ever find.

Which leads me to another one of my roles: baker.  In reality, the baking is really a means to an end since I truly love eating the stuff I bake more than the actual baking itself.  I’ve also been known to search out a bakery ahead of time when planning a trip with the family just so I can try out some new muffins and cupcakes.  True story.  It’s then that I whip out my camera to get some shots of our visit {to everyone’s chagrin}.

Because I love photography, too.  And have been accused of being a bit, er, overzealous in my camera snapping.  Being an amateur I use the excuse of “learning” to spend too much time framing a shot or having a family member pose for the same shot four times in a row.  But they love me and ooh and ahh when once in a while I pull something pretty cool out of my Nikon.  Yeah, they’re neat like that.

I also homeschool my kids and have ever since they were tiny.  Not to say that everyone should homeschool because you have to do what works for your own family.  But it works for us and I love it.

But not as much as I love Jesus Christ.  He is my Rock, my Savior, and my all-around go-to Guy.  He rescued me from myself when I was lost and broken and self-destructive, and He continues to rescue me still.  I’m not perfect.  Far from it, in fact.  But His love knows no bounds in pulling me into His warm embrace time after time.  And for this He will always be #1 in my life.

What do you write about?

It depends, but I generally stick to the following:

  • family    {raising teens}
  • baking    {recipes, bakery reviews}
  • homeschooling    {our curriculum, teaching high school}
  • Florida    {fun places like Disney}
  • music     {I love it, I feel it, I crank it up on the headphones. It feeds my soul.}
  • marriage    {making it thrive}
  • faith    {my stumble to the cross}
  • travel    {roadtrips, geocaching}
  • photography    {apps, workshops}
  • mercy & mission work    {Compassion International, Mercy House, Operation Christmas Child}

Where did you come up with the blog name Once Upon a Muffin?

I love how children’s stories often begin with “Once Upon a Time…”  It’s often a precursor to something wonderful and thrilling! It’s a phrase that says “Sit down, get comfy, and prepare for something incredible.”

I love that.  Whether it’s a story or a recipe or a photograph, I want to produce for my family something incredible, that inspires and motivates them to make their own piece of something amazing in this world.

How in the world did you get the nickname Lilbear?

Hmm, that’s a sweet and funny story, actually.  When my oldest child was just a baby, and TechDaddy and I were exhausted from the joys of parenting, we’d lay on the floor of our apartment making a triangle shape with our bodies and the tv stand.  Catz would sit in between us and we three would watch Little Bear on a kids’ cable channel {until we bought every single VHS, and later DVD, of that series}.  As the years went by and Catz grew and MrC came along, Little Bear had become a sweet staple in our family.  So when my hubby one day introduced me to email and the internet, we knew what my handle had to be: Lilbear.

Why do you use fake names for your family? How come I can’t find any pictures of your kids on your blog?

My husband and I want to protect our family, just like any other parent.  One way we feel led to do this is to not use our kids’ real names online.  You will also probably not find a photo of my kids’ faces online.  While we totally respect that parents have a variety of ways to keep their kids protected in regards to internet safety, this is just how we roll right now.

Is there anything else you can tell me about yourself?

Yes, lots!  But I’ll let you learn more about me through my posts.

I’m so glad you stopped by for a visit!  I hope you’ll come back to see me soon.  To make sure you get my most recent sparkling and witty posts, be sure to subscribe here!

Are You Transformed?

I love t-shirts with a good message.  They can be funny. Cute.  Romantic.  Deeply meaningful.  Any way you slice it, t-shirts are like walking billboards.  They convey a lot about the person inside.
Take me for example.  I have tees that express my fondness of baking, my dabbling in photography, and how great I find my husband.  But my faves?  Those would be my shirts from Wild Olive Tees.
I just discovered them last year but they quickly became my go-to source for awesome shirts for women…with a message.  And that message?  That we are precious and loved by our Savior.
Actually, I’m not the only one in my household who adores Wild Olive Tees.  My 15 year old daughter, Catz, is a huge fan as well.  Between us we have 9 of their tees!  I posted about them before and cannot say enough of this amazing company and their beautiful shirts.
The fit and style of each shirt is perfect with a nice long length.  I can sit and bend over without worrying that my shirt will ride up and play peek-a-boo with my back.  The fabric is light yet enduring – perfect in this steamy-hot Florida weather!
And you know what’s the best part of all?  The design and message on each shirt.  With verses from Matthew, Romans, Isaiah, and more AND gorgeous designs I feel blessed and thankful that I get to wear my beliefs like a billboard.
Right now Wild Olive Tees is having a giveaway for their limited-run hoodie, “Transform Your Mind”.  Check out this post for all the details and go enter!
And remember…be transformed!

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Praying for my Son when He’s gone

Last night was a first.  As I left my son at the middle school lock-in at my church, I thought about how many times I had walked away from him. Not walking down the hall or simply walking into another room.  I pondered about walking away from his dependence.

Sure, TechDaddy and I had left MrC overnight before with family. When he was little, he and his sister had stayed with one of my sister’s and her crew while hubby and I enjoyed an anniversary cruise.  But this was different.

In a nutshell, after almost five years of going to the same church, we are now getting involved in the youth ministry {both middle and high school}.  So when this lock-in popped up, MrC said yes purely for the opportunity to meet new friends.

So last night rolls around and my hubby and I bring our boy.  Staying to help with dinner setup and clean up for about 50 kids {pizza!}, TechDaddy and I hung around for a couple of hours.  {Don’t worry, we were in adult-mode but totally staying clear of our son.  You know, the “free-space from parents” mode.}

Then, after the kids had moved on to another activity and we had cleaned up, TechDaddy and I began our walk to the door.  Me, being a total mom, slipped over to MrC who was resting from a game of beachball volleyball.  After v e r y   q u i e t l y exchanging some “I love you”s and slipping him a buck for candy, I joined TD by the door.

And then I walked away from my son.

I didn’t feel it until later, after we got home and were spending time with Catz.  But the emptiness was thick. In my home his absence was real and heavy.  No jokes or funny quips abounded.  The sound of MrC jumping onto the stair landings was missing. And in my heart the ache was visceral.

Then this morning I woke with the reminder that my son is not in my home.  And while the rest of my family slept, I walked upstairs to his room, curled up on his bed, and prayed.

My prayers covered his heart, like the ones I spoke to Papa days and weeks and months and years before today. Prayers that begged for protection, both physical and emotional.  Prayers requesting my boy be happy and safe in his new environment.  Prayers that God would guide my son through every step and stage of his life.

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.    Jeremiah 29:11

But my prayers also covered me.  That my Father would shore up my heart against the ache that comes when learning to give way to my boy’s growing independence.  The ache that hurts longer and deeper than those birth pains from over 13 years ago.

My boy is home now, happily snacking and laughing with the rest of us as we watch a movie all huddled up on one couch. And though I feel a twinge of what is to come as I continue to hand over more and more independence, I feel content in knowing that my Father’s hand is guiding my precious son and that all of my prayers are heard and stored away in the heart of the One who loves my boy more than I ever could.

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Rough Edges Needed

Overheard this conversation just before Catz & MrC were about to drink some soda…

MrC: Catz, I need to teach you how to burp.
Catz: Uh, no thanks.
MrC: But you need to have some rough edges. You don’t have any.
Catz: I don’t want to learn how to burp.
MrC: You especially need to know how to burp around your husband. Men like that.
Catz: What?! So you’re saying that when you get married you want to marry a girl who burps.
MrC: Look at Mommy…she’s got rough edges.
Catz: She doesn’t burp either.
**Daddy walks in the room**
MrC: Daddy, do you like it when Mommy burps?
Daddy: Yea…it’s kinda cute. Not ladylike, but cute.
Catz: Uhh!! Can we smack them?!?

***For the record…no, of course I don’t burp!! The males in my family must have me confused with some other female. Who, apparently, burps! ;) ***

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