high(light)s and lows. and a few laughs too.

so i did something WAY out of my comfort zone.

along with my usual all-over dark color, i finally caved and let my sweet friend/hair magician add a few honey and caramel highlights to the mange (mop? mess?) atop my head.

it's a really subtle change, which you probably won't even notice in this all-too-classy salon bathroom photo. but i love it.

for a couple of hours after the appointment, i was a little worried it would come off looking more gray than highlighted, but then i decided i was just neurotic. (that's a frequent observation i make that applies to many {or more likely, all} areas of my little life. i know you're shocked right out of your socks to hear that.)

it's just enough change to make me feel a little bit sassy(er?!) but not enough that i walk around feeling like a zebra. (no offense if you prefer the piano key-inspired coif. just ain't my style.)

but back to my original story (i know i had it around here somewhere...) ... before trotting off to my hair appointment i had to drop my lovable, cuddlebug baby doll tom at the vet's office to get his teeth cleaned.

i know what you're thinking.

and you're right.

we all know my boy can't do anything the easy way.

ever, never, ever.

and this trip was no exception.

about halfway through waiting for the foil and dye to work their magic, my phone rang and our (devastatingly handsome) vet was on the other end.

fricking. fracking. frick.

normal people would assume the phone call was just to let me know he was awake from the anesthesia and would be ready to pick up that afternoon.

but not me.

dr. p knows me (and my somewhat {or severely, depending on how you look at it} splintered mental state) well enough that he knows not to call unless it's unavoidably necessary.

so it appears that while they were digging around in the gums under my boy's tongue they found a small growth that, while pretty small, was definitely not supposed to be there.

he removed the entire growth and as much of the surrounding tissue as he could to feel comfortable he got all of the cells, but we'll probably never be sure what exactly was growing in there.

there is an option of sending the tissue to a specialist in dallas who can tell us whether or not it's malignant and what its official, double-digit-syllabic name is, but dr. p and i both agreed pretty quickly that there's really no need for it.

if it's not malignant (which is what i pray daily), we'll just keep an eye on the area to make sure nothing comes back.

if it is malignant, we'll do everything we can from here to keep my boy as healthy and as comfortable as we possibly can.

the reality of the situation is that we wouldn't pursue chemo for my precious tom. i'm not sure he could physically handle it. i'm still convinced the rat poison left him a little (or a lot) worse for the wear internally. i could never, ever intentionally put him in a situation that would hurt him or allow him to suffer.

we were beyond lucky to get him back at all a couple of years ago, and i'm thankful for every day we wake up snuggled next to each other in the bed. (no judging. they've been in the bed for 8 1/2 years and won't be getting out any time soon.) the plan is just to keep an eye on him and hope nothing comes back.

knowing my little idiot (i totally say that with love, y'all.), he could have very well chewed up something with a rough edge (doc even said a piece of dog food could have been the culprit.) that left a nick in his gums and got infected.

i love that boy with all of my heart (and have the $400 vet receipt from this week to prove it!), but i do believe he'll turn my hair gray long before his sister.

my guy was pretty much doped out of his mind when i got him home that afternoon. doc said to be sure he didn't drive the car for a few days.

the only upside to his being so woozy was that he temporarily forgot how upset he was with me and let me love on him all night.

he wouldn't, however, get anywhere near his daddy. at. ALL.

see, the price tag for keeping our boy healthy has never fazed me a bit, but i'm sure you can just imagine how my hubby, otherwise known as scroogey mcscroogerson, reacted to the damage.

i knew he'd get over it before very long, but i warned him that his hissy fit would make tom feel like he was in trouble - and it did.

it's been 4 days since the whole fiasco went down, and it's still all mommy, all the time. oh well! maybe my other little idiot (again, totally said with love, y'all.) will learn to bite his tongue every once in a while!

now.

to back up just a little bit.

the night before tom's big appointment, the wild woman got wind of where her brother was headed the next morning and FLIPPED. HER. LID.

girlfriend went postal. screaming, crying, kicking, hollering, and snotting from one end of the house to the other.

'but mama, you caaaaaannnn't take tom to the doctor! he's not even 'frowing UP! he doesn't need to go if he's not 'frowing up!' (read: he's not throwing up. love it.)

in the midst of her meltdown, the girl walked in with her (fake) puppy and announced that he had fallen out of the chair and bumped his head. she also announced that he needed a hospital, some medicine and his toenails pierced.

always being one to appreciate a good show, i cooked up the bright idea to take the wild woman and her (fake) puppy to the vet with us. then dr. p could check out both pups!

it was a stroke of pure genius.

i was getting all giggly just thinking about the cute photos this little field trip would generate. the sweet girls at our vet's office always ask me about our girl, and i couldn't wait for them to get a front row seat to our kind of crazy!

i laid out my plan in my most animated mommy voice (jazz hands included for extra emphasis, of course) and held my breath while i waited for her (surely to be enthusiastic) response.

but instead of her squeals and giggles and jazz hands to match my own, i got the following.

with one sassy hand perched squarely on her hip and the other chunking her (fake) puppy down on the floor, she said in a totally serious voice, "umm NO mommy. it's just a TOY."

then she promptly turned on her cinderella princess shoe-clad heel and prissed right back to the playroom, where i can only assume she proceeded to crush someone else's dreams as well.

that little sophie-ism reminded me of a few others i want to write down before i totally forget (which will be in about 17 seconds if recent history is any indication) ...

her new favorite word is boomashicka. no idea where it came from or what it means. but we say it about 2034 times a day. no telling.

while munching on a chocolate-covered doughnut a few mornings ago, 'mommy. we don't eat PEOPLE. we eat FOOD.' ... thanks for the clarification, dear.

upon finding her favorite pajamas in the (taller than her) pile of clean clothes in my bedroom floor, 'mommy. i've told you a HUNDRED TIMES my 'jamas don't go in the floor. do you hear me, woman?!' ... i hear ya loud and clear, sister. now. do you hear the sound my spankin' spoon is gonna make on your behind?

when she walked in on me getting out of the shower, 'mommy! you have alot of booty!' ... thanks, friend. now go to your room. forever.

answering her daddy after he asked her if he needed to 'come over there' when she said something very not-nice at the dinner table, {throws her fork on the table} 'do you want ME to come over THERE?!' {complete with mad face and curled lip} ... nice try, dear. but you're on your own with that one.

after asking me if she could play on the stairs at mama shu's house and being told to stay away or risk a run-in with the spankin' spoon, 'it doesn't matter mama, 'cause it won't really hurt.' ... let's just see about that one, sister.

i guess my only hope is that whatever nut house i end up in during her teenage years subscribes to soap net so i can keep up with y&r. and that they have diet dr. pepper too. and twitter. and eyeliner.

love & thank Heaven for little girls,