All Gawdess All The Time

Snort!

2009-11-05T19:45:00.000-08:00

Dragging my ass through what may or may not be the swine flu - survey says - probably not, but still our household has ground to a very slow motion version of its usual busy self. Three of the kids are flat on various couches and the youngest is unusually unbouncy.

Surprised myself with how worked up I have been over the h1n1 thing - done my usual thing of going into research mode and I feel a little better having plowed through a bunch of different articles from a bunch of different sources and cross checking those sources.

I am no more afraid of the vaccine than I am of any other vaccine - which is to say that I have a healthy respect for it and its possible side effects and yes I do believe those to be rare.

I am grateful that my brood does not seem to have any of the underlying conditions that would put them at greater risk.

Blurt!

2009-11-05T11:29:00.000-08:00

Some things that have been on my mind:

socialized medicine in the U.S.:
I live with socialized medicine and I love it. Not because it is perfect, it certainly isn't but it does mean that as a society the majority of people in my country have decided that don't put a price on human life.
Yes, I know that sounds simplistic but in a very general way I believe it to be true.
If my kids or husband get hurt or sick, we simply visit our doctor or go to the emergency ward - I make sure I have my wallet with me before we go because I keep my health care card in there.
In the past four years we have been to emergency with my youngest daughter and a mild concussion, seen a gastroenterologist and had a gastroscopy for my oldest daughter, and I have had two colonoscopies, mole removal, and a visit to a dermatologist to have a largish section of shoulder skin removed and checked for melanoma and this does not include the various visits for checkups and for prescriptions for all six of us. And it cost us nothing.
Well actually it did cost us money in the form of taxes but that is fine by me.
I am happy that my neighbors, my friends, strangers and even people I don't like can all go and get medical care when they need it.
It keeps us as a society healthier, physically, medically and morally.

Lately we have had some experience with a system that seems more like the privatized american medical insurance system - but in my family it is with therapy. We are using therapy a lot right now. My husband has quite good benefits from his job for that, but ONLY if we use the therapists that the insurance company wants us to. And we don't want too. Our kids have very good, trusting relationships with two play therapists and don't think it would make sense to try and disrupt that and start again. So we are paying, a lot of money every month, and trying as hard as we can to convince the insurance company to reimburse us. It is a pain in the ass.
If this is the "choice" and "control" that some Americans think is the best for them - I don't get it.

More later.

And so we roll along

2009-03-28T21:18:00.000-07:00

We still have four kids:
-Oldest son is 18, I cried some on his birthday for all the time that has gone by and all the mistakes I have made and in joy for having him - he is a fine and thoughtful young man with a hilarious sense of humour and he is deeply connected to his brothers and sisters
-Oldest daughter is 15, the road is so rough sometimes for her - as sadness and self doubt grab at her and leave circles under her eyes but we grown ups know that this is a tumultuous time as bodies grow and hormones flow and we do get the other side when she shines and sparkles and laughs and shines. She teases her youngest brother with a truly gentle affection and wraps herself around her youngest sister both physically and emotionally to try and offer her comfort from the hurts of the world both big and small
-Youngest son is 13 and truly a joy, if that is a word that can be applied to someone who points out that he is gaining on me in height in hourly updates, rolls his eyes like they are loose in their sockets, can stretch out a whine for hours, his voice cracking, and make me laugh while he does it and flips his bleached hair out of his eyes as he leans in to hug me good night as he does every single night - he is ours, he is mine
-Youngest daughter is 9nearly10, oh so nearly. If you ask her right now she can tell you how many days it is until her birthday, they are dwindling away quickly and she is growing and maturing so much. Smart? Oh that child is smart! And strong! I tell her how tough and strong she is all the time and also try and let her know that she doesn't have to be all the time, that is a job she can share with me and her Dad. The other day she told me that her thoughts know that I won't leave her, it is just that her feelings aren't sure yet. That is big stuff for her. We still have some serious stuff to try and figure out around birth family and especially birth Mom - right now we have decided to put that stuff in an emotional box, away from us and take it slow and just deal with it a little at a time.

We are happy and lucky to have two good therapists to work with, the Play Therapist that has been with Youngest Daughter since she first came to us is still there every second week and their relationship is a good one and a helpful one. Family Therapist is a newer find in the last Year or so and has been very useful to the rest of us, singly and in groups. I think of him as being on retainer for us for the next few years and am very grateful that we can afford him - appointments with him help smooth the rough patches in life and really show the kids that their Dad and I take their feelings and our family very seriously and that is priceless.

Birth Grandma still shows up, either by phone or in person, usually about every six months or so. That will probably be her pattern in the future too. There is upheaval when that happens but it is worth it because the youngest kids really do appreciate the contact, she is a touchstone of who they were, where they came from and I think it reassures them that we welcome her and embrace her as much as possible - it shows them that we care about where they came from too.

Birth Brother - we don't know where he is, we haven't heard from him since before Xmas, when he blew out of his placement in the first foster home he has had since he was 12 (he has been in group homes since) and it was with the fosterMoM that he had at the time - he is now all of 16 and both my youngests were terribly upset during his birthday month - and probably are even now...

BirthMoM is a tough subject for me right now. The last letters we rec'd were in January and the one to our youngest daughter triggered some difficult behaviours and I haven't been leaving the house much on my own since then. Before my eyes, YD became the cold, emotionally distant 7 yr. old who moved in with us and OH how powerless felt to stop the transfomation! I have yet to write the letter that I need to write to her, I have been putting it off but the time is coming soon. I want to do it right. BirthMoM needs to understand that although five years may not seem like a long time to an adult for YD it has been over half her lifetime and that things cannot be picked up where they left off, it doesn't work that way and it is unfair to YD to expect it to.
But I have to, and want to, say it in the nicest....no....in the most productive way possible and with input from YD, YS and therapists - hopefully I can.

So that is where we are right now.

I am afraid for my children in the future, at least a little, but most mothers probably feel that way...I want to protect them from hurts, big and small and at the same time let them grow and find their way...
I don't write here anymore for a couple of reasons, the biggest one is that I am trying to allow them to be themselves and not characters in my story.
And I have been exploring other parts of myself, the artist, the athlete, the writer, the woman who realizes that 42 IS the answer to the ultimate question of life the universe and everything (thankyou Douglas Adams) and I want to make sure that every number afterwards is too.

I still would like more kids.
Really and for true.
A baby lifts my heart into my mouth, any baby and I look with yearning eyes at my husband.
Toddlers have the same effect, okay almost all ages of child do....but it wouldn't be fair to the family we have right now, there is enough on their plates...but maybe someday this bigger family will become bigger still.

calm -ish -

2008-07-27T08:59:00.000-07:00

Three months since my last update...
the fallout from the Birthmom package and the subsequent Birth Grandma visit, was somewhat constant until just recently.

Hardest was definitely Youngest Daughter with stunning flashes from Youngest Son and the upset was tough for everyone.

There were flashes, the tiniest flashes of time when I really wondered if I was going to be able to ride it out, if there would be an end to it all.

Most of that had to do with realizing how tenuous my bond to my youngest daughter could be in some ways and wondering how much farther it could stretch and not that I was afraid it would break off but how scared I was that maybe she couldn't love me.

Those were the darkest moments though, the scariest, the hardest - thinking that I was pouring so much of myself and my love into what was a black hole but one shaped like a little girl with huge eyes - and realizing I didn't have a choice, that I couldn't turn it off, that even if her attachment was broken and she could not love me back that she was MINE and that it didn't matter and that would be sad.

Thankfully there were times, far too brief as some points, where she did reach back, where it did not feel fake or for an audience or manipulative.

It has been somewhat settled and what I guess is real life kind of relatively happy normal - but I do feel the urge to erase that, after looking furtively behind me to see if I have just alerted the trauma winds to our presence.

I have not written because I also hate the idea of the one sided representation that I give of our family, of my children, of myself.

It really is unfair to give what is only my perspective and only from that chunk of time and present that to world as what my family is really like.

My kids are great, we do have so many great days and they forgive me sooooooooooooooooooo much and deal with my struggles to be a good parent...
and we laugh.

I am so thankful we laugh.

Too often I don't sit down to write about my youngest daughter's burgeoning sense of humour, her sly puns, her growing and strengthening relationship with her sister and her loss and fear and confusion as she sees her brother, my youngest son, begin that journey of becoming a teenager and in some ways leaving her behind.

You haven't heard about my youngest son's increasing periods of cuddling, of curling up against me of giving me kisses on the cheek, of cracking up so hard over something funny I said that he is a danger to himself if he is eating or drinking.

Older daughter is emerging slowly but surely, shaking out and drying those fragile, damp butterfly wings of who she is. Knowing more about how to handle things like the dark waves of depression, having more insight sometimes at 14 than I have at 41.

Oldest son is almost easy to take for granted because he is there and does what is needed and is both older than and younger than his years in surprising ways. He accepts with dignity and equanimity his place as oldest child and often takes on more responsibility than he needs to or should. He is a fine young man.

Finally I wonder about my right to my children's lives.
They are mine, with every breath and beat of my heart, they are mine but very importantly, I must recognize and respect that they are their own and their stories are their own and how I traverse that awareness and the need to share my story, is something I have been struggling with.

They all know about my blogs, this one and my photo one, and I don't think they read them on their own and ....

I don't want to put aside this blog, it and my other one Building The Bigger Family, mean so much to me and have brought me friends and an important support system, but posting will not happen much until I find the right way for me to do it.

Of letters and feathery things.

2008-04-25T15:40:00.001-07:00

Our canary, Izzy, is currently alive and well ( that is the sound of heartfelt and vehement knocking on wood that you hear).

In face, the avian vet (thanks for suggesting that fosterabba, he was worth every penny of the $72 exam) says that he is actually quite a big and robust canary.

The vet also figures that he probably won't drop dead just from being exposed to me.
(This is good to hear because I was, you know, beginning to wonder.)

Our air quality report ($140) came back and we rated as average for fungus and bacteria - most of it probably brought into the house from the outside ---- but since I ran out and bought a true hepa filter air cleaner ($120), I'm going to darn well believe it has improved.

Bird lady has been kept up to date and is calmer. Yay!

AAAAANNNNDDDDD, screechin in on the heels of that fun stuff ---- in other news....we just received a package of letters and cards from Birthmom.

Our first ever direct-ish contact with her.
Between just you and I?
It freaks me out.

She calls them her angels, our youngest daugher is her princess, she wants them to write to her and to send them pictures...and she wants to see them in less than a month and I don't want her to be in their lives that fast and that intensely and......I sound a little resentful and whiny don't I?

Probably, because I am, a little.

Birth Grandma gave me a heads up that the mail was coming and I sent a three page letter and pictures off to the government office that deals with this....
now I will send off another short one with better pictures...

and try and deal with the fall out, obvious and not so obvious that is shaken loose for my youngest two.

Having contact is the RIGHT thing.
It is the only thing - as long as the kids are not at any kind of actual physical risk - and I don't think they will be...

but oh, I wish I could protect them and me and us and...

I'm a little afraid, because I feel like, especially with our youngest, that we are so tenuous so much of the time...we are just beginning to really connect...

Big, calming breath in.
I'll spend a few minutes getting over myself (hah! or years) and go and make dinner.

For the birds...

2008-04-15T18:41:00.000-07:00

Currently we have:

2 dead canaries buried in the front garden

and

1 live canary in the house

and

1 very unhappy,elderly bird woman who wants the live canary back now so that we don't "kill another one of her birds"

and

four children who are attached to the only bird that was robust enough to live and are afraid that if he goes back he will die and that don't want him to go back anyway because they are attached to him. (His name is Izzy by the way.)

and

two very painful phonecalls with a fair share of spiteful recriminations and tears thrown in

and

now I will be calling an air quality inspection place to come and moniter our air quality and send the results to her to try and mollify her

and

one woman who would cheerfully pack up the sweet little bird who is still alive and drop everything in the bird woman's lap and not look back except for the aforementioned four children

and

their eight fear filled eyes that are watching my every move

and the moral is, and of course there is a moral -
don't get animals from a possible animal hoarder, and if you ignore your inner warning bells about it, then be prepared to deal with the consequences which may be even bigger than...
dead pets, heartbroken children but may also include -

not attending your camera club because bird lady is a member

and

make your running club awkward because one of your running friends is how you met the bird lady in the first place

and

feeling like throwing up,

a lot.

after the weekend

2008-04-07T06:41:00.000-07:00

Morning, before the kids are up and things are....a little better here than the last time I posted.

Then, it was nearly midnight and I was hunched over my laptop at the top of the stairs, trying to make sense of how two tiny creatures in MY care had died and how I was going to deal with that fall out with my kids.

I don't think I had yet realized that I had to deal with my own feelings about it all and I really did.

For better or for worse, I am a care giver and no matter what else has happened in my life I have clung to the belief that I am the best I can be when it comes to doing that and that by now, I'm pretty good at it - at least when it comes to pets.

Complacency can really bite you in the butt in a very HARD way.

I should have done the research on Canaries first, before they ever crossed the lintel into the house.

I should not have expected the research I had done on finches and the experience we did have with a cockatiel and the information provided by the hobby breeder lady who gave them to us to be enough to go on.
From everything I have learned in the past day, through that research that I should have done in the beginning...my best guess is that the poor little critters keeled over from stress. That the same conditions that they lived in at the Bird Lady's house just didn't work for them here.
At her house, they all live in small cages, usually with more than one bird to a cage and although that works for her, it is highly unusual for it to work for most canaries because other than in the breeding season, they are highly territorial birds and they don't want to be near each other.

The last and final canary, the one that was brought over only two days after the first male died...is actually doing very, very well. He is thrilled to have his own, big cage and sings and sings and sings and is the very freaking picture of unstressed health - eating well, drinking well and flitting and twittering and generally charming the heck out of the household.

About my littlest girl.
Sometimes she is better, there are times, minutes even where she forgets to be a princess made of solid ice. It is just the run up to her birthday is sooooooooooooooooooooooooooo excruciatingly difficult for her and therefore on every other person around her.

There are times when I am horrified to say that I don't like her, even a little bit.

I LOVE her but oh, I don't like her. She is not at all likeable, except of course in front of other people.

If my husband did not see and recognize that she is crazy making and manipulative - I would likely go nuts because every other adult sees this adorable, cute little person that I am lucky to have.

It is hard to have a kid that you don't like, that you sometimes, briefly wish had never become your problem, because you just don't feel like you are making any headway.

It makes you take hard looks at parts of yourself you just never want to see.

But maybe this crisis of a weekend was a good turning point for her.
Saturday, she was unbelievably quiet and restrained and Sunday, she was very much like a normal kid would be.

Maybe it is because her birthday is tomorrow and we are nearly over that terrible time.

Maybe it won't last.
Maybe it will.

Thanks for all your kind comments. They helped.
A lot.

without wings

2008-04-04T22:27:00.000-07:00

Tough day here.

At shortly before 3pm, I loaded my two youngest into the van to take them to the park and take pictures and play. My cel phone rang before I could pull away from our front curb and I could hear my oldest daughter's panicky voice talking about her pet bird having just fallen off her perch and was dead.

This is the second bird in as many weeks.

We are a bit shattered and in no small part because we just don't know WHY.

Four weeks ago we got a pair of canaries for my oldest daughter, two weeks and a hundred and thirty dollars in emergency vet bills later, the male died. We couldn't figure out why. We went over everything again and again.

The lady who gave us the pair, brought over another little male a few days later and gave us detailed instructions on helping the new pair - and she went over everything that might have caused a problem too - there was nothing any of us could figure out.

They were kept clean, they had fresh water and food everyday, they were covered at night, they were warm enough, had fresh veggies, played them classical music....

My poor girl.
She is so devastated.
She had just been sitting and watching them for an hour or so, when the little female gave an odd sound, fluttered her wings and fell to the bottom of the cage dead.

Now we have one.
I want to send him back to the Bird Lady he came from, I am so fearful he will die too.

Normally, I would say we are good with pets. We love them, we don't stint on their care, they are a huge part of our lives but right now I feel a little like we have been cursed.

It was made even more awful by my youngest daughter, who can not stand to have attention given to anyone else much of the time and now, as we lead up to her birthday she is barely holding together emotionally. She struggled desperately to make the drama all about her.
And I am already sick to death of her because she is caught up in making sure I don't go anywhere without her and if I do she makes everyone else (particularly her siblings) suffer till I come back. She stares at me and follows me constantly except when we are out at a social function and then she acts like I don't exist. I must be under her control at all times and I must prove over and over again that I won't leave but she is going to do everything in her power to make me miserable so I will leave.

And we lowered her ADHD med dosage so she is far more unfocused and impulsive, because she wasn't sleeping hardly at all and looked like a zombie for the last few weeks.

Her bio brother is taking his cue from her and they are winding each other up into high pitched, frenzied giggling behaviours that go on and on and have no point or meaning.

Oh and our guinea pig has cancer.
Seven years old, which is like incredibly freaking old for a gpig.
BTW, a vet checkup, xray and antibiotics for a guinea pig, that is 270 bucks that was Wednesday.

Sigh.

Same old, same old - just really intense right now.

Did I mention that I am training for a 50k run.
Because I am nuts?
But if I don't train for it, I think I will go nuts that much faster?

Not all bad, not by a long shot.

Just tired, and sad and tired, and rubbed raw and tired and overwhelmed by a world where little birds die for no apparent reason, little girls are left behind by their Moms and don't/can't even begin to process it.

Deep

2008-03-05T20:24:00.000-08:00

It says so right in my sidebar: "lots of anxieties".

That about sums me up for the past month and a bit.

Thinking about parenting, forgiveness, relationships, change, trauma and coping.

A very long time ago, I accepted that being angry at either of my parents for the things (physical and emotional abuse, mild neglect and being left in the care of se/xual predators) that happened to me was pointless, useless and self destructive.

Unfortunately knowing all of that still doesn't make dealing with the fallout that much easier sometimes.

It creeps up on me, and often I don't see it coming at all.
Sometimes I can be in the middle of ....sadness or anger or exhaustion or some other emotional reaction and be just a bit more over the top than is absolutely reasonable for the circumstance and...I will suddenly figure out that in part I am reacting to something from a completely different time. Other times? I don't figure it out until well after.

For me, I think that is the hardest part of all.
Knowing that I probably will never fully be able to prevent that from happening.
Things were stolen from me when I was small and powerless, and although I am big and strong now, those thefts have left an indelible mark on me.

Yeah.

2008-01-31T10:59:00.001-08:00

I am still in my pajamas!
It is one minute before noon.
They are pink flannel pajamas with cows and moons on them, the shirt part has a cartoon cow with a night cap on and the words Pasture Bedtime on it.

Three of my kids are in the basement playroom.
I have no idea what they are doing, except that a moment ago, Oldest Son came up and said, "Hey, OD and YS are bonding in the basement."
After turning that over in my head carefully to make sure that he hadn't said that there was "bondage" going on - I said "Oh...is that a good thing?".

He gave me a weird look and said that yeah of course it was and then back down he went.

The fourth kid, YD is on the computer playing something, I'm not sure what and I really don't know if I am going to go and check, and has been for an hour.

I have done absolutely no working out, but I did eat a delicious poached egg on toast with a goat cheese bechamel sauce, and I have no plans to make lunch anytime soon.

It is oddly contenting (I know I made it up and no it doesn't mean camping with convicts) to know that I have nothing to do for the rest of the day.

Okay, yeah the kid's bathroom upstairs really does need some work but I don't actually have to leave the house until about 5:45pm.

Ahhhhhhhh.

I don't actually want to think about going out tonight.
In keeping with my theme of all glamour all the time, my husband and I have an appointment with our marriage counsellor - wooohoooo.
It's been going okay, at least up until the last session two weeks ago.
During which the therapist got all "you are a traumatized person" on me.

Like, I know - I was the one who told her.
I've done the tour - out patient, month long every day intensive group therapy, followed up with 7 months of weekly one on one.
Been there and relived that and it isn't the kind of thing that you forget.

Besides what being a traumatized person has to do with me talking about something that my husband does that drives me crazy - other than make me feel that what I am saying isn't valid and that everything that goes wrong in our relationship is all my fault - I don't know.

Seriously though it knocked me for a loop and hard.

I know a fair amount about who I am and why.

I don't like people touching me, unless I really know them and feel we have a trusting relationship.
I don't deal well with being startled by loud noises or being bumped into, it takes a huge amount of control to manage my flight or fight impulses in those cases.
I NEVER want to live that life of being powerless and victimized, ever again.

I also want everyone to like me and I want to make everyone happy and I want to inspect everything and every interaction completely and exhaustively to make sure that I am not the cause of other people's unhappiness. I am way too hard on myself because I think that somehow being perfect or as close to it as possible will give me some sort of a sense of control over my life. Which I know is artificial but that is where it is at.

A blog post, only not here

2008-01-28T11:08:00.000-08:00

"But we have to go out to the park this afternoon, don't we?".

You have to forgive her, Oldest Daughter only just got up, yes, it is ten minutes after noon, but that is just the way it is.

Nope. We don't have to go anywhere today. Not when it's minus 30.5 C before you even factor in the windchill, and you should and the roads are still a disaster from the storm yesterday.

She sighs a big, breathy gust of relief.

A good sign.

She is even supportive of this picture and post over at my 365 blog (a photo a day for the year).

Maybe you will be too.

Regular Programming

2008-01-23T13:34:00.000-08:00

My husband took the story book I had just read to the congregation, out of my hands - as I was on my way down to teach Sunday School.

He smiled a happy, little smile as he looked from it up to me and I shrugged and left it with him.

Last night, he brought it into the kitchen where our 14 year old daughter was poking about and asked her if he could read it to her.

"DAD!!" She said in that loud, aggrieved way that only teenagers in the centre of the heart of darkness can.

"Just a page or two," he begged, "and if you really can't stand it, that will be it...okay?"

He told her about how when he saw it at church, it brought back so many memories of him reading it to her when she was little and that she was still his little girl and he would like to read it to her again.

Perched side by side on the tall stools in the kitchen, he carefully read each page - "Katy was a beautiful red crawler tractor. She was very big and very strong and she could do a lot of things." Then he would tell our daughter how he loved that description and it always made him think of her.

Sitting on the couch in the living room, I could overhear all this
and
I
was
so
moved.

That this man realizes the gift that he has in his children and takes the time to show them how much he loves them.

How lucky they are and how right this is.

Blog For Choice LOOK AWAY! But isn't that the problem right there in a nutshell?

2008-01-22T07:25:00.000-08:00

How many years ago was it?
I know actually, how many years, how many months, how many days - I am not stupid and despite what I was told from the beginning, I have never been stupid.

I have been young, ignorant, unaware, overwhelmed and in over my head - struggling with the fallout of being sexually, physically and emotionally abused.

I spent too much time trying to find my value in what other people thought of me.
But I didn't know it at the time.

I thought that was what I was supposed to do, try and make other people happy no matter what it cost.

That is what I had been trained to do.

I have been pregnant when I didn't want to be.

And I made choices as to what to do about it, that were based on everything I knew about myself and all my experiences.

No one else could do that. No one else should do that.
The presumption that anyone else could or should, is about controlling and owning someone else's body and that is slavery.

Be it an individual who wants to do that or a church or the state.
And that is shameful.

I don't see abortions as shameful.

Private, yes.

Emotionally excoriating, yes.

But so have each of the times that I have chosen to have children.

Even if I had grown up in the most supportive of families and societies, with love and support and knowledge of risks and how to stay safe - even if I had been that woman - perhaps a woman like my daughters will grow up to be - even then -

the decisions about my body should be mine.

I'm glad it was, I will fight for it to be that way for other women now and in the future.

respite

2008-01-20T19:37:00.000-08:00

I would give my eye teeth (whatever they are, I will look it up sometime) for respite care.

Or some other not completely essential part of my anatomy could be put to the cause.

But I won't send my kids out for it.
I can't.
I have nothing against families and providers who offer respite in their homes, it is just not the right fit for my kids and my family.

So that leaves us with in house care and I just don't have that.

Or rather I do, My friend N. is experienced and capable and likes the kids and knows them and they know her and are comfortable with her - but she is not available and probably won't be for a while because of family issues.

For now we will just have to hold steady I guess and try and forge ahead.

We even have funding for it, that it isn't a problem, which is nice of course - it is just trying to figure out where to find someone who meets all the above criteria.

It would be great if that happened sometime soon - before I get stretched too thin.

Good Morning Mom

2008-01-19T08:36:00.001-08:00

When my youngest child calls those words at me down the stairs - my inner response is usually one of irritation, or anger or resignation.

Sick? Yeah.

But if that is what you're thinking, you probably don't have a kid with the gaping holes in her attachment like mine has.

At least, I think it is mostly the attachment troubles that are at the root of most of her manipulative behaviours.

For my daughter, the good morning almost never seems to be a genuine greeting. More, it is a throwing down of a gauntlet. Sometimes I get the sense that she is angry or annoyed that I am up and downstairs, possibly spending time with someone other than her.

A big chunk of it could be all in my head too - I know that and I want to work on it some more except that sometimes I also just don't want to have too.

Deeply moving and thoughtful post, huh?

A step forward

2008-01-17T11:05:00.000-08:00

Last night was something of a near miracle for my house.

My youngest daughter managed to get to sleep and stay asleep through the night - and this after a phonecall from Obie. He was calling from jail, he is in solitary confinement right now.
His phonecalls often have an upsetting effect on YD.
She is frustrated beyond compare that he hasn't clued into drugs and alcohol are bad things and get him into trouble.
The first time she realized that he "used", her mouth dropped open in shock. "Didn't he learn anything from what happened with our birth parents?!?".

When she woke up this morning, she told me that she was very upset and angry and wanted some "couch time" with me to help her talk about it.

Wow.

That is amazing.
And it didn't stop there.

She ended by saying that she was so glad that she could talk about this kind of thing, because she didn't think it was good for her or anyone not to be in control of their emotions.

Remember folks, this is the kid that I could barely muster up any "like" for last week.
I will hasten to repeat what I said last week, I LOVE her, just had trouble "liking" her.

Darling Boy

2008-01-10T07:30:00.000-08:00

I am full of contradictions about him.

I wish I could have held him from his first moment, yet how he came to be my son is an important story and journey wouldn't want to change.

He is mine.

And now he is twelve years old.
A year and a half and the second birthday since I met him.

"Next year, I will be a teenager Mom!" Grinning slyly, dancing around me.

"No you won't! Not if I refuse to accept that, now shut up and don't talk about it anymore! You are my little boy!" Turning my back to him, or leaving the room.

He wants to be a cook, to move to another province, another country, to travel to learn - all when he "grows up".

But, "I will come back Mom, I will only go away for a little while at at time."

He'd better.

Because I can already see, in the set of his twelve year old shoulders and that strong chin that he is going to keep growing up.
No matter that I haven't had him as my child for anywhere near long enough.

I am so proud of him.

Happy Birthday my bright eyed boy.
Oh how I love you.
Don't grow too fast, okay? We have time to make up.

joint's a jumping

2008-01-08T20:47:00.000-08:00

This morning, I left the children in the waiting room and dashed into the playtherapist's office, flung myself on the overstuffed couch and demanded that she tell me whether or not my littlest girl was one of the most manipulative creatures on the face of the earth or not.

Pathetic of me, I know.

But I don't care, because when she laughed and reassured me that it was indeed the case, I felt a weight lift off of me and I was able to, almost immediately, become a better parent again.

So few people get it what it is like to swim with a shark 24/7 when everyone around you is cooing at it like it is a baby duck.

And after a while, my coping technique of "screw 'em and feed 'em fisheads" just doesn't cut it.

So at breakfast time, I didn't like the kid, didn't know how I was going to manage for the next ten minutes without snarling at her or running away from her and by lunch time was capable of not just loving her but liking her too.

That ain't a bad thing.

Youngest son is winding himself up, his birthday is Thursday and that would be an intense time for anyone who has been through the fostercare/loss of birth family warp that he has - except his is even more intense because it is also the 4th anniversary of his bmom going AWOL and he and his sister being taken into fostercare.
He is holding up pretty darn well, considering - even using words to come and tell me about his fear of losing everything that hits him hard around this time each year. What a kid.
Anyway, I figured out that going out to a photography club meeting on the evening of his birthday might not be a wise idea and when I checked that out with him today, his eyes went very wide - "I would freak RIGHT OUT!".
Yeah. I get it.
I am staying home.
No skin of my nose.

Having both the older kids home is ssooooooo damn nice.
Love it, don't know if I will ever be ready for them to be gone away again.
Hoping to make more time to spend with them on a weekly and daily basis.

Oh and I did okay on the not yelling anymore thing, except, um....on Sunday night when I ended up shrieking at my husband.

So, so far 0 yelling at the kids, 1 yelling at the husband.
Sigh.

And I gained two pounds.
Dang it.

But like, it doesn't actually matter either.
This weight thing does weird things to my brain.

Okay, I think my brain was kind of weird to begin with.
But I want to stop buying and eating products with aspartame in it.
I don't think it is good for me.

Hopefully going for an outside run tomorrow, if it all works out.
Husband had his first day of teaching students at the local post secondary institution today.
It was a big deal for him and I am proud of him.
He is sort of the professor to my gilligan.

pinging someone else's bandwidth

2008-01-06T20:14:00.001-08:00

Is it wrong to catch a free ride on someone else's wireless internet connection?

Okay, so I am doing that right now, if I wasn't I couldn't post at all - ours is down, for whatever reason, and until and if the repair person shows up tomorrow - we are without.

Except um, there are unprotected networks all around me...
and I am thinking about it as I opportunistically blog away.

And since I am asking ponderables, does it count calorie wise, if you chew a food, say milk chocolate covered almonds and then spit it out?
Not that I have done it or am even really and truly considering it - just wondering, you know, if anyone has ever had a research grant for this kind of thing?

Another thing, where is my self control at anyway? I have been looking around for it and it just isn't here, not in the kitchen, not between the couch cushions....very annoying - especially as I really could have a used it last night when I snorfed down an entire (170g) bag of gummi candy.
If you are keeping count that is 10 points over my actual allowed amount of W8 watcher points!
Tomorrow is my weigh in day. Urgh. Will those gummies come back to haunt me?

Ooooh. And guess what I am listening to?
Go ahead, guess.
No.
Okay, Cyndi Lauper sing Torch Songs from her album At Last.
Oddly compelling, she can sing and with an accent.
Sometimes I find some of her interpretations of these standards kind of annoying, but I am in just the right mood for it today and have had it on extreme replay.

What have you been listening to lately?

Status

2008-01-05T13:14:00.000-08:00

There is a weepy, adolescent girl lying on the couch beside me.
Last night she called in tears because she was feeling ill and didn't know what to do and felt guilty about leaving her brother to do dog/house sitting on his own.

Cabana Boy went and bundled her home.
She has the flu and she was homesick and hadn't been sleeping well the last few nights.
Now, I think her weepiness is a combination of hormones and low blood sugar (because her stomach and hurts and she feels barfy, so she hasn't been eating) - I have been wondering about hypoglycemia and if that could be a problem for her. Something to look up.

On Monday I will be trying to set her up with a new therapist.

My youngest daughter has been much on my mind lately.
Sometimes I worry about where she is really at.
How much of her behaviours are organic?
Is she Fetal Alcohol Spectrum disordered?
Is it learned behaviours? Coping mechanisms?

There are moments when she is staggeringly bright, asks thoughtful questions, comes out with astute observations and others where she seems - I don't know - utterly and completely locked into being four years old on all possible levels.

The four years old part makes a lot of sense, because that was the age she was taken into care at.

It is hard because I just don't know.

Of course it being the holiday season, it isn't exactly the best time to be expecting her to be at her best.

Cause, you know, I'm not, particularly hitting all my spots either.

The youngest son is doing well, he got a little wound up yesterday after Obie called to tell us that he had been thrown out of his motel (the home that the government has provided him with) and so now he has to go back to jail.

Yeah.

He is fourteen years old.
And I feel so damn helpless.

Our sixteen year old called this morning, he is feeling gross, so Cabana Boy went over to stay with him.
Armed with Pepto Bismal, acetaminiphen and ginger ale.

small plans

2008-01-04T07:18:00.000-08:00

No yelling yesterday...although it is still too early to make any promises about this day.

Truthfully it would have been difficult to yell yesterday given my choices. My two oldest children are still away dog/house sitting and oh! how I am looking forward to them coming home in two days - for many reasons but even just because their two dachshunds will then no longer take up all the room on my bed at night.

My youngest daughter was up barfing late on Wednesday night, so much time was spent lying about in her pjs and robe and staring at Sesame Street dvds. The old shows that I remember from being a kid. She wasn't up for doing much that might cause me to yell at her. Although I did try to bribe her 5 buck to wake Dad up from now on, when she is sick in the middle of the night - she just laughed at me.

Youngest son was quiet and low key, his highlight of the day was watching more Have Gun Will Travel episodes with Dad and I, and there was popcorn too.
He will be 12 so very soon.
Seven days to go, I think. When he gets up this morning, I am sure he will let me know.

My hope is to spend the next hour getting organised, our schedule is filling back up again and then get the kids up and feed and medicate them.

A picture of light and snow. Two things that I love about where I live.

Oh Woe Isn't me.

2008-01-02T11:50:00.000-08:00

No laptop of my own since the black screen of death.
Waiting to hear back from the apple store to hear what the diagnosis is.

No place to download my pictures to. Especially since I have been playing with my new flash!

Consoling myself with vietnamese food and good company.
And warm puppies and the insane game my oldest daughter gave me for use on the Wii and the the Dance Dance Revolution Game that Santa brought.

It has been odd with my two oldest children literally living away from home for the last week as they dog/house sit. I miss them and find to my slight surprise that they are managing just fine - thank you very much.

I didn't mean to blink and miss it when they became capable and nearly utterly independent.

Things are going fairly well on the not yelling front, of course we do have a house guest so...um...that kind of limits me in an artificial way.
Hopefully it will continue on anyway after his departure.

Ran a bit today and signed up to try and run the 50k again in May.
Up to 17lbs on the weight loss scene.

I still don't think I look different but one of my running friends mentioned to me this morning that my running tights, um, aren't tight.

Being me, I now worry that I will continue to whittle away, my legs and butt becoming thinner and thinner and my large shoulders, chest and mid section staying the same and I will become the frightening wedge shaped woman.

Okay, I have better things to do than imagine this kind of thing.
Happiest of New Year tidings to you all!

Mostly about tp holding

2007-12-31T12:15:00.000-08:00

On yelling- if I do my posts first thing every morning, I should be able to truthfully say that I haven't yet screamed at anyone that day.
Honest but very carefully fine tuned.

On toilet paper roll holders-these type seem very popular wherever I go-heh- you know kind of like a bent thick wire mounted on the wall. They are pretty enough to look at, I guess, you know, if there isn't any reading material available...but I don't know, I can't seem to get the hang of them. Anytime I pull off any of the necessary paper, the whole darn roll goes flying across the bathroom and then bounces and rolls. I don't know, maybe it is just me.

Actually this one I got a picture of is quite pretty.

Using Google to try and find a picture yeilded quite a few that weren't quite as sartorial.

Fer instance:

High fashion shouldn't really have anything to do with toilet paper roll holding but I can see why this picture popped up:

black screen

2007-12-30T18:50:00.000-08:00

I almost actually yelled twice today.
Volume went up but I managed to get it under control - which was good because I was barking up the wrong tree and it is a lot easier to come back from doing something like that when you haven't been shouting.

Now I can't guarantee that I will not be yelling for the rest of the evening.
My Mac*book just went to the black screen of death.
The good news is that it is under the extended warantee so any repairs are free - but they will take time and I don't know if I will have all of the material on it when it comes back.

I do have a back up that is a few months old but not new enough to keep me easy in my mind about the literally hundreds of photos that I don't have copies of.

So anyway, I have a headache now and a trip to my local Mac dealer in the morning.

I am using my darling husband's laptop to post.
We are watching the first episode of an old western tv show Have Gun Will Travel.
My older kids love it, I think my youngest son will too...but I am not so sure about how my younger daughter is doing with it.

Ahh, she just went and got paper and markers - not a bad coping strategy when it comes to sitting through a show she isn't quite understanding.

She is the one that keeps me guessing as to where she is at.
I think she keeps herself confused too.

The older daughter is doing all right.
She and oldest son aren't home much right now, they are staying and taking care of some lovely dogs of one of my running friends.
Big screen tv, lots of food and they get to take the wii game system with them too.
And if the dogs are happy and healthy at the end of my friend's vacation and given all the attention and affection they are getting, why wouldn't they be - my two will be richly compensated.
Not a bad gig if you can get it.
And good for my kids to try their wings out in the world a little without their Mom hanging over them all the time.
I have actually been surprised by how easily they are managing.

I see the future.

No More Yelling.

2007-12-29T06:23:00.000-08:00

Just because I haven't been writing, doesn't mean I have been thinking about writing.

It is just that when all my posts seem to start with "I am a big dork", it is a little disheartening.

No, there isn't an interesting or comedic story to go with that "dork" statement - just my personal state of being.

I turned 41 this past Dec. 25th.
Nothing wrong with that, but like many, many other people I find this time of year HARD.

Having a birthday in the mix often doesn't help.
All that reflux of past years, all the reminders of what I wish could be, of what I don't have.

Don't I sound like someone you would want to hang out with by the lighted tree?

Now having said that, I must also say that this year has been possibly the one I have coped with the best in possibly all my adulthood.

I have done more actual thinking than wallowing.
And more thinking than being angry.
Both items to be marked down on the plus side of the ledger.

So although I am still sad and conflicted and wishful about:
-my dad and brothers having Christmas with their families, five miles from my house, as I gape in open mouthed wonder at how my Dad, the physically, mentally abusive alcoholic that he his, managed to pull off being the one who somehow managed to keep my brothers loyalty and affection and I didn't - despite feeling like I was the third parent.
-my Mom and her husband choosing to go to Las Vegas for Christmas, despite now actually living close enough to celebrate together for the first time in 23 years
-none of my family (of origin) phoning to wish me a Happy Birthday (or alternately, to beg my forgiveness for all they have ever done wrong (real or imaginary) and to throw themselves on the absolute heartbreaking beauty of my compassionate mercy (of which, need I even say it, I have copious amounts that I use generously)
-why do I even make myself nuts over this stuff, when I have a perfectly lovely family of my own to spend time with?

Wow.
The list is a little whiny but still I am glad to have put it down in writing, it makes it all feel a little clearer and less hidden away in the murk recesses.

It is what it is.
Wishing it would go away isn't going to work.
Shining a light on it might help though.

And it might help me with my big old New Year's Resolution too.
I want to stop yelling at my kids and my husband.

One of my natural gifts is a natural ability to PROJECT.
I am LOUD.
This does have certain uses in crowded situations and that kind of thing.
It is also absolutely something I use to express my anger.

I think I am a bit of a bully when it comes right down to it.
And I want that to stop.
So far this Christmas I have subjected each of the people in my house to my shrieking in rage or frustration.
Not proud of that, it embarrasses me and I want to stop.

I am thinking of using this blog as a tool to try and track it, when I do it, when I don't, why, that kind of thing.
We will see how it works out.

Putting those ghosts to bed

2007-12-11T20:57:00.000-08:00

Fired my oldest daughter's therapist today.
Stupid woman.
Came out of a session with my youngest daughter and her therapist and found my beautiful young woman looking like she had been steamrollered.

She had tried to talk to her therapist about the way she wanted to be treated and spoken to, like a mature and intelligent person, and the therapist went on the defensive.

With my depressed fourteen year old daughter.
"I have worked for years with childen and youth throughout this world...blah...blah...blah"

To stop the tide, my baby, apologized and said that it just must be that she is tired and therefore given to exaggerating things and that is when the therapist became all friendly and said that anytime there was a problem to please just call her on it.

My ass.

The stupid, stupid, self centred idiot who is supposed to help my girl find her own strong voice, worked at muting it instead.

When I talked to her on the phone later, the therapist had no idea of what a good week our girl had experienced.
That she had a wonderful art lesson.
That she is involved in pottery every week.
That she had been happy and animated and hopeful until the counselling session.

Didn't know anything about it.
F**k.

So, now we are looking for someone to work with her, who won't put their own personal insecurities first.

********************************

My Mom visited today.
There is a lot of past family craziness but today was nice.
I am happier than I have ever been as an adult at this time of year.
(Even if it scares the hell out of me to write that. Like I'm asking for trouble, y'know?).

The Season of Miracles?

2007-12-08T09:56:00.000-08:00

Sitting in the therapist's waiting room on Tuesday afternoon, squinting at a knitting pattern - waiting for my youngest son to finish up his session - when it hits me...
my youngest daughter has been sitting on the floor at my feet, playing with a toy truck and a bunch of crayons who are the people going for rides in the truck.

For almost ten minutes, she has been doing this.
Telling a story aloud to herself about what is happening, using different voices for the different personalities.
And I hadn't even noticed!
For the first time since I have known her, possibly for the first time in her life, she was playing - happily and appropriately- on her own!!!!!

Oh My God.
I cried.
Both then and when I told my husband about it later.

*********************

Wednesday night, I am lying abed upstairs with some icky version of the flu, my husband is out doing an errand and I can hear something erupting downstairs between my two youngest children.
Careful, thoughtful parent I am, I yell down the stairs that it is time for bed for both of them,
which is evil, because it has only just hit 7pm.
They both come up and disappear into their rooms.
Followed almost as quickly by my oldest son who tells me quietly that youngest son was blameless. Unbeknownst to youngest daughter, I apologise to youngest son and send him back down to watch MASH dvds with his older siblings.
Almost an hour later, she appears in my bedroom door, tears in her eyes - "I feel bad that Alex has to go to bed when it wasn't his fault."

Yeah, it took her an hour to figure it out and to take responsibility - but she DID IT!!!!!!
She made a connection, thought about someone else and took steps to correct the wrong!!!!!
This is the first time without prompting, without having it explained, without having something outside of herself act as her conscience.

**************************************************

I am so very hopeful.
More so than I have been in a long, long time.

Maybe, things will look up for my oldest daughter soon?

When I was twenty one...

2007-12-06T15:51:00.001-08:00

...a very troubled man went to l'École Polytechnique de Montréal and killed
Genevieve Bergeron
Nathalie Croteau
Anne-Marie Edward
Maryse Laganiere
Anne-Marie Lemay
Michele Richard
Annie Turcotte
Helene Colgan
Barbara Daigneault
Maud Haviernick
Marys Leclair
Susan Pelletier
Annie St-Arneault
Barbara Klucznik Widajewicz

Why?

Because they were women.

I worked on a different Canadian University campus at the time.
A co worker joked to me that I must now be nervous because if someone wanting to hurt people came into our office, I would be the first one killed.

It wasn't funny.
I just stared at her.

All these women should still be alive.
Aggravated by teenagers, worn out by their jobs, knitting presents for their friends and family
and they are not.

I try to think of them and remember them at least once a year, to say each of their names aloud in remembrance.

It saddens and frustrates me that I know the name of the man who killed them, that I can't forget and yet it is so hard to remember all of theirs.

There was a lot more news coverage about him at the time.
Which is what he wanted.

I do not want to give him that, even though he died the same day, by his own hand.

So today, I think about the young woman I was and the young women they were and I will read their names aloud.

Adoption and teenagers makes me buff

2007-12-03T21:01:00.000-08:00

Today was Way In day for the W8 watchers and I dropped 2 more lbs and they took away one of my daily points! What is up with that?

Weird thing is that I know have dropped that much talked about ten pounds. You know the ones, everyone - at least almost every grown female of my aquaintance, talks about how they would like to just lose that ten pounds.
And I have done that.

It is just that....well...I don't really see a difference in my body.
Yes, my pants are all loose and saggy in the butt and I am NOT complaining but I am confused.
When I stand in front of the mirror, starkers/minus covering/jaybird, if you take my meaning - I look the same.

The same.

Now is that because with my body image, I can only see myself one way?

Except that when I put on the little black dress for the cocktail party, a couple of weeks ago, I could see that I looked HOT in it - (relatively speaking).

A side effect of all this staring at myself in the mirror when I am nekkid and trying to take some self portraits to teach myself not to cringe and look away....is that I think I am getting ready to post to The Shape of a Mother.

The site just blows me away because it makes me remember how stunned I was by the changes that pregnancy and birth wrought on my own body. There was no preparation or training or family or friend wisdom to prepare me for that, the way a woman's body looks after.

In writing this, it has occurred to me that I never anticipated the changes that have happened to my body since becoming a mother through adoption.

I am stronger and more physically fit now than ever before in motherhood.

Working out and tracking my diet offer me a sense of control that I so often don't have in parenting.

Sweep

2007-12-01T16:09:00.001-08:00

Three black garbage bags went out to the alley.
The rest of the stuff in this picture went to Goodw*ill.
Some of it came from my two youngest children's rooms but most of it came from my bedroom.

What is most surprising...okay, other than that I have lived with that much extra stuff for far too long...
is how great it feels to have it gone.

Not bad or sad or ....
++++this post is interrupted to briefly describe my youngest son and his insane curtain hiding behaviours - very recently he has taken to wrapping himself in draperies and then peeking out and saying ooooola booooola to me and tell me about how he is the curtain god and how I have offended him----- oh and my youngest daughter just got off the phone with her birth grandma and came and whispered at me that grandma was asking her if she had been reading the bible that grandma had given her and that she had to lie to grandma and say yes, because she had given the bible away months ago!!!!!!! Without talking to a parent about it! So we just had an impromtu discussion about how we don't get rid of bibles/etc. without checking with a parent first - because it can preserve family harmony...etc. etc. Now I am almost too tired to finish this post+++++++

....okay the whole getting rid of stuff feels good.

Oh, and the other most surprising thing?
That there is still stuff to deal with!!!!!

2007-11-30T08:10:00.000-08:00

Hello?

(tap tap tap)

Is this thing on?

(squreeeee!)

Ahem....It is the last day of (Inter)National Blog Posting Month.
Each and every day I wrote something and clicked on the PUBLISH button.

There were a number of things I didn't write about.
For instance, sex, politics, rock n' roll, religion...
uh, okay I didn't write about sex or rock n' roll...
But I'm not going to start on those subjects now.

Instead here is a picture to express a little of how I feel to have made it through to this day. (Please standby while I go and look for one in Iphoto.)
Here it is:

Steady on.

2007-11-29T08:28:00.000-08:00

Our oldest son slept over at at friend's house last night.
This morning, I only just realized that I have been waiting for him to get up and come and touch base with me, because that is what we do most mornings.

When I pick him up today, close to lunchtime, he will likely be surprised to find out that his youngest sister missed him very much last night. Even going so far as to write him a letter to tell him so and to apologize for the times that she has made it hard for him to look after her.

I made a concerted effort to make last night special for the three kids who stayed home. Particularly for our oldest daughter.
One thing that came out of her counselling session on Tuesday was that she has suffered the loss of two things in the last year and a half. The first and most obvious is about the changes in our family structure and trying to figure out how she fits in now - the other is the loss of her friends.
For years, she and her brother would hang out with the same kids, all of them boys, and talk and play and run and share birthdays. Usually she was the only girl, but that just didn't seem to matter to any of them.
Until.
Until the boys started growing older and their interests started changing and their awareness of girls as being different and other began to increase.
It wasn't helped by one of the other mothers also making it clear that it wasn't appropriate to have a girl over for visits or birthday parties now either.

I just didn't get how hard that has been.
What a loss it is for my daughter.

Because the boys are all still around, they haven't disappeared or anything, they still call and come over - only now it is for my son, only.

I can't fix it.
But I can honour it and recognize it and validate how she feels.

And when her brother is invited to a birthday sleepover that a year and a half ago would have also, naturally, included my oldest daughter...
...we get a movie and chips and pop and ice cream and eat our dinner in the living room and make it special here.

Last night, she really did well, and I think she really did enjoy the time.
Before bed, she looked straight at me and told me how she hated that she didn't exist for them anymore that she wasn't invited, that she really, really hated it...
but that the movie and everything else was really, really nice.

"Thank you Mom, for this."

Oh baby, you are so welcome.

That colour blue, in the early morning sky, on a cold and not too sunny day

2007-11-28T06:56:00.000-08:00

Last night I gave notice to my committee that I won't be returning to the kid's education program in the new year.
I am a little sad.
I just don't feel that I had any other real choice.
So I am quitting a job I love because to stay would mean that I would continue to be a lighting rod for one person's odd but convincing, political/emotional machinations. One POWERFUL person.
This is church for pity sakes.

Which, unbeknownst to me....I apparently want to take over and make into my own mini empire and to do so I will stop at nothing!

Wow, I didn't even know that about myself.
But apparently most of the church board does.
Apparently they were okay with it though, I mean, being a sneaky, morally bankrupt person who is attempting to manipulate the entire congregation for my own twisted and deeply hidden reasons - that doesn't mean I shouldn't be working unsupervised with their children.

Okay, so I'm a little sad and bitter.

And yeah, I kind of get why it has been happening.

Our church doesn't have a minister and can just barely afford one. Some people in the congregation have it as their strongest desire to find this professional leadership and the person spearheading this particular drive is scared to death of having anything divert attention or funds from this all important finding of a minister.

Enter, me, with my talk of expanding and improving the areas of the church where the children and youth programs are run - that is expensive and distracting.
Don't forget that I also keep mentioning that any renovations that we do will only be temporary and really, we do need to look at moving to a bigger, possibly newer, definitely more pricey space.

ooops gotta go. 10k run at -15 is beckoning.
Thanks for letting me vent.

You know what else?
I'm actually damn good and appropriate when I work with kids.

hopeful?

2007-11-27T07:12:00.000-08:00

While I'm driving yesterday-

Child:"I don't really want to go and see the therapist tomorrow."

Me: Um. Why not honey?

Child: "I don't know! She kind of treats me like I'm a little kid."

Me: Oh. Well, could you give me an example?

Child: "She says things like -We don't have to talk right now if you don't want to, you can have time at the sand table- "

Me: But...you like the sand table a lot, don't you?

Child: SIGHING "I guess so."

Me: Okay...so how about if we talk it out more later and then we can figure out what to do next?

*****************
In the living room around 9pm-
Me: Come sit beside me.

Child: "No, no, I'm just getting my dog and then going to bed."

Me: Please? (PATS COUCH) Come sit and we will talk for a bit about the therapist stuff.

Child: (Reluctantly sitting next to me.)

Me: I'm worried about how sad you are and I think that it might be possible to use this counsellor as a tool to help with that...what do you think?

Child: (Shrugs)

Me: So we could ask for ideas on things that might help us figure out what is going on, why you're so sad....

Child: "I don't know! I'm so sad all the time, nothing makes me happy, or if it does it is for barely anytime at all! (Crying) I don't even care about eating - I try to avoid it and that scares me!!!!!!"

Me: (Freaking completely internally but outwardly remaining calm and reassuring) I think this is definitely something to talk about with the therapist tomorrow. Do you mind if I come into the appointment with you? Maybe if we are both there we can figure out what to do next to help you to feel happier some of the time.

Child: (Crying) "I was happy today for a little while. When you played that game with me, I was so happy to spend some time with you. (Crying harder) "Being with YOU makes me happy!"

******************************
There was more of course.
About how she feels guilty and selfish for wanting time with me, when her younger brother and sister actually really deserve my attention and need it far more than she does.

As hard as it was to hear, I am hoping that making some changes and booking time with just her - is going to help.

There is a whole lot more I could write about feeling guilty and inadequate but um, that seems kind of pointless and a bit like wallowing, so I won't and will actually try and move past that stage into the actually doing useful things one.

Edited to add: Oh, but I am so sad that my kid is so sad and that I just haven't been there for her like I should have been.

Respite

2007-11-26T07:07:00.000-08:00

In my cold addled state of the last few days, I know I have not mentioned that we are in discussions with my friend N. to start providing respite care, on the order of three hours a week, for us!!!!!

Yes, yes, I have been, at least in my mind, doing the Snoopy dance of happiness.
All my kids know and like N., so it is a really good arrangement and it doesn't hurt a teeny tiny bit that she has experience.

I am looking forward to going out with my husband and oldest children a few time, being able to leave all the kids at home and know that my older children are not having to be the parent substitutes and...

I'm really looking forward to getting into my bedroom with my husband!!!!
I'm even going to provide pictures of that happening.

Calm down, this is not suddenly reverting from a family blog to a, um, naturis*t one.
I have been reading this book

and sitting in my bedroom when I do it.
Although our house isn't as bad as some he describes, it isn't great either and I would like to try sleeping on my bed without a small to middling heap of laundry on my feet.

So before and after pictures will be taken and posted (I think, if I am brave enough).

And finally on the domestic IT FIGURES front - this is the message that w8 watchers had for me this morning, after I entered my weekly weight:

WELL DONE! You've recorded a loss this week. That's great news!

However, we notice that you've lost more than an average of 2 pounds per week over three or more weeks. This rate is too rapid — it may be unsafe or unhealthy.

While we're proud of your achievements and pleased you're making changes in your life, we need you to concentrate on one more thing: You should slow the pace of your weight loss to no more than 2 pounds per week. Click here to read more about the effects of rapid weight loss.

Here are some tips on slowing down your weight loss this week:

Make sure you're not skimping on your meals. If you've been saving your weekly POINTS Allowance, try using some this week.
If you're exercising a lot, try to swap some (or all) of your bonus Activity POINTS values for food.

Allow me a moment of frustration here.

Last week I was told to eat less and this week I'm supposed to eat more.
OooooKaaaaaay.

Thank you.

I do get it though. And am glad that this company does warn about losing weight too fast, because they are right, it is not a good thing on a body.

I also know that because I am upping the intensity of my workouts that I am burning more calories - I think I might be starting to train for a 50k trail run in May, but I am not sure yet.

You know, 50k, just sounds so freaking insane.

Because, um, it is.

more head cold free association

2007-11-25T15:17:00.000-08:00

The head cold situation is somewhat better, maybe because I am doing nothing more than lying on the couch in front of the fire and someone else made me a grilled cheese sandwich and brought it to me, along with copious amounts of Bengal Spice herbal tea (Thanks to my husband!).

Ah, the tea!
It is seriously good stuff.
If I let it steep for the rec. amount of time, it doesn't need sugar!
And I have such a sweet tooth, never really met any food that was too sweet for me.
Been drinking a lot of it now that I have been doing this watching of weight thing.
Speaking of...tomorrow is weigh in day.

To give it proper credit, my clothes are all getting quite baggy on me...

Ooooh and my husband and oldest daughter just arrived back from a foray out to obtain chinese bbq pork! Mmmmm nummy.
Bet that isn't in the points guide online and I think my pants are getting tighter again.

Hark!
Can you all hear that?
The sound of the Canadian Football League's big playoff?
Why it is the Grey Cup!!!!!
Edited to Add: Why yes, if you can't tell by the screaming and celebrating noises that are rocking this hemisphere, the Riders Did WIN.
Now normally I don't care (and to be honest I don't give much of a fig right now either) but my husband can sing the Saskatchewan Rough Riders' fight song! He is a part of what is known of the Rider Nation.
You can take the boy out of Saskatchewan but you can't take the Saskatchewan out of the boy.
And there is the game, in 42inch colourful glory.

Uh-oh, I just went and checked it out, that bbq pork is one points expensive food choice.
About 2 ounces comes to 4 points.

I think we can all see that I have not achieved fully functional brain operation yet.
But I am posting and that is something!

Oh and I need to go and work on my "I'm quitting" letter for church.
Considering I want it to be gracious, succinct but not the kind of thing that will leave any bridges smouldering.

It is kind of sad that this is the only real path I can see setting my feet to.
At the same time, I feel lighter too.

Unnnnh.

2007-11-24T21:09:00.000-08:00

I hab a horrid code.

I also like that affected way of writing as if my fingers are somehow stuffed up too.

This morning we had our annual Homeschool Kids craft sale at my church - three of my kids had pottery first and we ended up being almost late to this particular event that I was supposed to be hosting.

It all worked out though.
I spent a hockey sock full of money on all sorts of handicrafts and treats made by every child who was participating.

Urgh. My head is all sinusy achey.

After the craft thingy we all got into the van and drove an hour and a half to go to a deep fried turkey dinner/ my husband's university classmate reunion thingy and that was okay.

Whew, my vocabulary is just dwindling away here as more of my brain cells clog up.

I'm not so good at some of the small talk/schmooze stuff sometimes and I do feel planets removed from most of the other people that were there, but my husband was very happy that we went and has said I don't have to go again any time soon.

Yay.

I'm giving up on this post business for the moment.
Must go and see if I can remember all the things that I shoved in my mouth for W*eight*watchers now.
I doubt I will be able to do it.

How it was resolved...

2007-11-23T06:47:00.001-08:00

On, um, uh....Wednesday! Yeah, on Wednesday I posted about my 8 year old and how I was totally stumped as to what to do next with her....

(and I rec'd some wise and useful suggestions too)

Now it is time for the rest of the story...

She was in her room when I came home, I called her down for a snack and sent her back up while I put out lunch fixings, I called her back down for that and then up she went and she came down again a little later for her piano lesson and then back up.

I was angry too and a one point, when she was making a face at me on her way back up to her bedroom again, I snapped at her that "she had decided that she wanted to be angry before I got home, so she was also getting lots of opportunity to be angry at me now that I was home!".

No, I know it wasn't helpful to anyone and I felt bad right after, as she put a little more stomp into her step.

This all lasted for about two hours.
Shortly before 3pm she came and asked me, eyes flashing and mouth pinched, if she could go outside. I said no and go back upstairs and then I turned away. But not before I saw what looked like tears in her eyes.

Hmmm. Maybe it was time to try talking to her again.
Pausing just outside her door, I could hear her talking outloud about "Fine, I won't go outside, you don't care about me!!!!" as she moved stuff around.
That is when I stepped in and told her I did care about her very much, I was just so confused about how to help things change and I was frustrated and despite all that, I loved her to bits and would never stop.

She started to cry in earnest and threw her arms around me.
We sat on the bed and talked for a while about:
-how it is not okay to mess with other people to distract yourself from feeling sad and scared
but it is okay to talk with them about feeling sad and scared
-her oldest brother loved her very much but now he felt sad and upset and confused and worried that she didn't care that her behaviour had hurt him and would, until she could talk to him about it herself
-Birthmom left because she had huge problems that had nothing to do with her kids and I am lucky enough to be able to deal with my problems in different ways. (We actually went in depth a bit about this and I made sure that there was no badmouthing of birthmom at all.)
-how I often leave her home during short errands because I think she will get bored and cranky but that if it makes her feel better to come with me, then she can most of the time. That would be fine with me.

She actually seemed to feel quite bad, sincerely, for her behaviour. (Although I did take that with a grain of salt.)

She did end up coming to her brother's shinny game with us, and has asked to come next week as well.
Yesterday I took her on a brief errand to the library and store with me.
She was frustrated because she wanted to go into the library and look at books and we didn't have time (which is a huge difference from a year ago when she didn't have a clue what to do with herself there!).

At supper, Oldest Brother talked about being frustrated and unhappy and feeling like he didn't do a good enough job taking care of her, and that she really didn't care how she felt.

She said she was sorry but otherwise seemed unaffected.

Before bed though, she was quite upset and sad.
That is kind of her time for thinking and feeling about things that she has successfully distracted herself from all during the day.
She started to cry again and talk about feeling really bad about how she had made her oldest brother feel.
So I hauled her downstairs in her pjs and plopped her beside her oldest brother on the couch and she tearfully apologised and told him she would try to not mess with him anymore.
He was honestly touched.
Hugged her and told her Thankyou and that her really appreciated her saying so.

She went to bed.
Took a long time before she fell asleep.

Last night my husband and I went out for 7pm with plans to be away till 10pm.
Youngest daughter was tucked into her room right before we left - instead of being allowed to stay up as she usually does.
She was allowed to keep her light on until we came home, unless she started messing with anyone and then it would be lights out.
She called 3 times to my celphone, but other than that, there were no problems.

I will continue taking her with me on errands etc. only leaving her home when I MUST.
Yesterday, I also emailed my friend who used to come and do respite care for us, to see if I can set her up to start coming again.
We have the funding, we might as well use it.

****
When I left the house last night, in gold heels and jewelery and makeup, I kept giggling a bit giddily. It felt so unreal! Going out! With my husband!
We went to the fundraiser cocktail party, said hello to who we knew and couldn't find a place to sit...looked at each other over our tiny plates of bulk prepared Costco like hors d'oerves
and decided to slip out and have dinner at our favourite restaurants.
It was really, reallly nice.
And we were home before 10.

and now...I'm hungry

2007-11-22T15:10:00.000-08:00

Having visited a lot of the American blogs on my daily reading list and of course being subjected to lists and lists of foods and drinks that are being prepared and consumed, I am literally drooling.

And because I am NOT eating dinner so I can spend my Weight*Watchers points at a fundraising cocktail party I am going to tonight...I am really aware of the fact that I am not eating anything anytime soon.

A quick scene from my dysfunctional family life as of this morning:
I yelled at both my daughters (in the parking lot at the grocery store) that I loved them both and nothing was going to change that, so they might as well stop competing with each other and learn to live with it.
Further I pointed out that both of them spend so much time keeping score about who I am giving attention to and spending time with that they don't even enjoy it when they are on the recieving end of that which they seem to crave so much.
(The yelling wasn't the really loud other-people-are-staring-at-us kind, more it was the vehement sotto voce kind)

Yes they will be warped.
No, I probably shouldn't be allowed to parent but that's what I'm doing anyway.

Oddly, they have been nicer to each other for the rest of the day.

Which, they probably shouldn't do, because, um, it just reinforces my bad behaviour.
They should know better, tsk.

Now, I must go and cut hair of youngest son, then slip into a bath and emerge BEYOOTIFULL
enough to wear the little black cocktail dress and choose between my black heels or my gold ones.

Ooooh, I just had a weird moment of trying to figure out if I am really me and writing about going out with my husband to a grownup thing...shiver....

So, Happy Thanksgiving American peoples and

I'm still hungry.

Princess in a tower

2007-11-21T12:08:00.000-08:00

So.....
if you had a little girl, who despite all your best efforts and intellectual strain, waited till you walked out the door and then turned around and started giving her oldest brother as much grief as she could -
-because she is angry that you, her only (current) mother figure has left her - and she would like to take that anger out on the brother who is her designated caregiver because that is better than being sad....
...even though you have talked it all out before hand, shown her the cel phone you carry at all times and agreed that she can call you at least 3x if she needs to be reassured that you have not disappeared into the ether never to return....
....and when you phone home to tell the kids that you are returning, just like you said you would and you find all this out:

-would you agree with your son to stay out for another hour so as not to reward her poor behaviour choices with your coming back?
AND
-when you get home, would you have her stay in her room, come out just for a snack and send her back up to her room?
-even after your oldest son tells you he feels bad for her having to do that because she is only 8 years old and has had a lot to deal with in her life?
AND
-would you say to him, in tones loud enough for the little girl to hear, that it doesn't matter what she has had to deal with - she still has to learn to not mess with other people just because she is unhappy?

AND
-if you did all of that above, would you be torn about sitting her down and talking it all out with her AGAIN or would you be worried that you are simply feeding into her behaviour by giving her undivided attention and that is all she cares about?

-so other than lunch, do you leave her in her room (albeit one that is well furnished with books and toys and creature comforts) other than for mealtime and when you must go out to take her other brother out to hockey and so you will be taking her with you?

-and would you feel conflicted and guilty about it all, like I do know?

All of the above is not hypothetical and for the moment I am stumped.

About a boy

2007-11-20T10:57:00.000-08:00

Because I coudn't carry you when you were a tiny infant.
Because I wasn't there to wrap my arms around you and pick you up when you fell, or bumped your head or lost your favourite toy, or had a bad dream, or were sick or just felt sad or bad, or after you had a tantrum or just because we could...

I am trying to teach you now, what to do with a hug.
So I pull you against my chest and settle your head against my shoulder and wrap your unsure arms around my body, and then wrap them again and murmer right into your ear to leave those arms there and to try and squeeze me back a little.

Because you are "ALMOST TWELVE!!!"...
...I know you feel a little sheepish and unsure --
-but I can see in your eyes and feel through your backbone that you don't want me to stop trying
and sometimes
you give me a squeeze back or hang your arm around my waist, briefly and
I want you to know that
I NEVER WILL GIVE UP.

Keeping Track

2007-11-19T09:47:00.001-08:00

Since the beginning of this month I have:

-(edited to add a confession) finally gotten off my butt and done something about the box of rolled coins that my Sunday school kids and I collected for Unicef for Halloween TWO YEARS ago - so to clear my lazy self's conscience, money has now been donated to them through their online site

-become resigned to that fact that our garage is going to cost close to $30,000.00 - not accepting of it mind you, just resigned

-discovered that my darling, precious 14 year old daughter has some kind of low grade depression

-decided to quit my job at my church (and for the most part the church itself) after being involved in it for the past nine years

-entered into counselling with my husband

-started weight watchers

-applied for funding from my province to help provide counselling etc. to my two youngest children

-realized, with great reluctance that both of my youngest children are showing signs of that most dread of conditions - puberty - just flashes mind you but terrifying none the less

- been confronted with the fact that my two oldest dogs really are slowing down and aging, a lot, I hate that

-lost five pounds

-become aware of how much of my life is NOT intentional

-really enjoyed my mealtimes with all my kids

-heard my oldest son talk about being able to figure out why his little sister is behaving in inappropriate ways while he is taking care of her and hear him deal with her with compassion and insight. My oldest son, the one dx'd with a social processing disorder when he was six.

-said "I am not going to dwell in the petty ugly stuff that is on the periphery of my life (like at church) because I live a life of everyday miracles within my own family" and for the most part - I MEANT it.

What do you want for winter festivies

2007-11-17T16:49:00.000-08:00

Okay,
so I am finding this Weight Wat*cher's thing hard right now.
In a given day, I get like, um, 25 points to eat my way through, yesterday, I ate like, 47.

And I did not feel particularly over full, you know, like when you eat just way too much - okay so, I didn't feel great but still...

What is up with that?

Okay, it might be hormonal.
Or maybe it is just that I wanted to eat hotdogs and cheese and some cookies and some potato chips ....

Argh.

So distract me, what do you want for the winter festivities?
what are good, possibly inexpensive, gift ideas that I might encourage my kids to possibly get for me?

Oh I hope this counts as some kind of actual post thing because it is this or some going on about my kids or church - so I'm quitting my job there at the end of this month but shhhh, it is kind of a secret.

Edited to add:
I also want and suggest as gifts for other people (bearing in mind that I have some of these things already and therefore know I like it) the following:
comic strip books - Funky Winkerbean, Stone Soup, Crankshaft, For Better Or For Worse, Dilbert, Bizzaro, Fox Trot, Baby Blues, Zits and Pearls Before Swine
other books - The Story of Art by E.H. Gombrich
almost anything by Miss Manners - unstuffy etiquette that the world needs now.
The War on Women: Elly Armour, Jane Hursham, and Criminal Domestic Violence in Canadian Homes by Brian Vallee, heard this guy interviewed on the radio today and he is really interesting, his book sounds very good.
drugstore type stuff - Burt's Bees lip shimmer minty, tingly, pretty and inexpensive.
Dr. Bronner's and Sundog's Magic organic lip balm and body balm/tattoo polish particularly in Naked - I can honestly recommend this stuff as good for even the most sensitive skin and it works well too.
Moose Smooch - some of the best lip and body balm - unfortunately hard for me to find in Canada but worth buying a lot of it when I do find it.
clothing - running socks - wait, wait, read on. Even if you are not crazy enough to run around for no other reason than to run, running socks can be a great gift for anyone who is prone to athelete's foot or blisters. They are designed to prevent those things and they work well. So good for many. Same goes for hiking socks, the cushiony, technical fabric ones? Great for anyone who is on their feet for a long time.

I have my front teeth PT. 2

2007-11-16T07:26:00.001-08:00

Ah, yes the dim, grey light of early morning and perhaps I will have the time to get this post in before any of the atheletes awaken and the manipulation olympics start again.

I think we were at the number four. (Isn't that the height of laziness? I'm not going to even do the two mouse clicks it would take to go and check. Tsk.)

4. In my view finder. I have taken up digital photography in the last few years and not only have I found it to be a great artistic outet and a marvelous way of documenting the life of my family but also a very efficient and convenient way of ridding my life of money that might otherwise clutter it up.
A)If it were forced upon me, as a gift, I would of course graciously accept the newest Canon 40d. I don't NEED it mind you, but it would be a thoughtful little something in my stocking. (Snort!).

B)Back to the realm of what my kids could actually afford is this lovely little gadget. The Manfrotto 484 mini ball head. I like just saying the name, over and over. It is simply just an easier to use thingy for tripod work.

C) Although I am not attending my documentary film class anymore (I think I have gotten everything out of it that I could and there were too many nights where the biggest question on my mind was "Is it too cold to fall asleep in here or not?"), I would still like to try my hand at the 5 minute one that I have in my head. Although at $3000.00, even if all 4 kids pool their money, I'm not expecting to see it under the tree.

Sigh.
Must go and buy milk for breakfast, veggies for the potluck snack for games day this afternoon and dog food.

Oh, and gird my loins for when my other three children awaken.

I have two front teeth...pt 1.

2007-11-15T17:44:00.000-08:00

In the next few days, I'm supposed to have a list available to my children, of what I want for Christmas.

So here it is and it counts fully as a blog post and I had to work hard at it to insert all of the pictures and links.
Yes, it is too likely the most self serving thing you have ever seen - but it was also a good distraction for a little while, which I did need but does add to the self serving aspect of it all.

l) If it is good enough for Picasso, it is good enough for me. The daily one and in red. It is a limited edition after all. Moleskine

2) Blue plate special. I've got a thing for colour. My grandmother made me pancakes as big as these plates and then piled the bacon on too! Can't get it in Canada either that I know of. Oh, and make it the new stuff please because then my kids can actually eat off of it without me freaking out. Fiesta.

3)Sticks and stones won't do me no good, but sticks and string will!
Exhibit A:
One of the coolest books about anything, even if you never have knit and never will.

Exhibit B:Made from a musk ox! Supposed to be nicer than cashmere. And I love me some cashmere. Qiviuq yarn.

Exhibit C: These might be more ephemeral than useful. Glass knitting needles . Pretty though, think of them sitting in a glass vase in a sunny window. I like the WOW factor but I would be just as happy with the shiny coloured aluminium kind too. Cheap and cheerful and sturdy too. I always look for them when I am in a thrift store.

Tomorrow the list may grow....

Rapier

2007-11-14T19:44:00.001-08:00

The gawdess is in a pis*sy mood.

Why?

Could be hormonal.

Could be that we are hemmoraging money.
(Guess how much it cost to have shots done for 4 dogs? Yeah, you in the front row? $400? How did you know that?)

Or it could be spiritual in nature.
Church sucks butt.
This is not a new thing but yesterday it got ratcheted up a couple of degrees.

Turns out that somecow is telling the board that I maybe trying to rewrite my job description (I co-ordinate and teach Sunday School) without consulting with anyone else.

It is all a bit crazy, but what it comes down to, is that my interest in expanding the from just working with children at church to working with youth and adults, messes with this other person's agenda about what is most important for the church.

Silly me, I figure that finding out what the congregation wants and NOT manipulating it for my own weird personal gratification, is most important.

Anyway, I will be putting in my resignation at the end of this month and right now I feel a peculiar blend of unhappiness and relief.

And I feel kind of stupid.
I wanted church, this church and this place to be different.
Lifted above the morass of petty oneupmanship and of course it isn't.

And I want to smack some people and have a dramatic showdown with lots of cool cutting comments (on my part of course) and leave justified devastation behind me.

Fantasy is a good thing sometimes.

Tomorrow, the gawdess will strive to be happy once again.

Unbearable Lightness of Being with pictures.

2007-11-13T14:40:00.000-08:00

Hot Damn, it worked.
Here is a picture of the buy one/donate one laptop that I was on about yesterday - and that I will be waiting impatiently for to get here so that I can play with it.

Yeah, yeah, it is meant for the kids but I am young at heart.

Shut up.

Maybe I will let them play with it.

Anyway go to http://laptop.org/ and spend some of that money that is just lying around on it.
Go now.

*******************

At this time of year, daylight* is in short supply where I live.

This is what it looked like at 4:30pm yesterday, on our way home from our park outing.

Before supper and the sun was already setting.

Usually I don't mind, I think it is kind of pretty and I am, apparently a unique speciman, and I like the winter and it being cold and the less sunshine the less chance I will be sunburned.

Right now, however, I am basking in the glow of the litebook.

Which cost a whole bunch more than you probably think it did.
And is something that I have scoffed at more than once as being proof that there is one born every minute.

But then,
but then....
the therapist that my oldest daughter saw for the first time today said the word Dysthemia
to me and suddenly spending $200+ on it seemed like not such a bad thing to try.

I made the appointment because nothing I was trying at home seemed to make a dent in this depression that my lovely girl has been in and you want to, you know, make sure you aren't missing anything or making it worse...because this is your kid after all.
One of pieces of your heart that walks around outside your body.
You know?

So this, because her bedroom is in the dim recesses of the basement and when she really feels she must be cloistered down there and...
because it made me feel like I was doing SOMETHING to try and help.

There was a moment when I did get to use one of my favourite lines of all time from the movie Arsenic and Old Lace.
Therapist, earnestly: does depression run in your family?
Me, laughing in a slightly peculiar way: Runs? It practically gallops!!!!!! (Heh! I kill me.)
Therapist, looks at me blankly.
**********************************
There should be a new descriptive term for owning something that costs a great deal of money.
Wait! I think I have one!
GARAGE-ONAIRRE!

So, it isn't catchy - it is damn accurate.
By the time it is done, that glorified shed for cars and yard junk is going to have cost us....
hmmmm......
yes, yes, it will be almost $30,000.00.
And no, I don't want to talk about it.

Even if this morning I had a very positive meeting with a social worker from the supports for permanency program our province runs for adoptive parents so that uh, well it is kind of self explanatory...
still though we will be given financial assistance, no not to build the garage, but to make sure that we are never in a position of real monetary hardship because we adopted kids with expensive needs. In the last two months alone, play therapy for my youngest two has come to over $600.00 bucks.

Yes, I feel a teeny bit weird about being funded by the government to look after my kids but not conflicted enough to not jump at the opportunity.

So there.

pounds

2007-11-12T11:29:00.000-08:00

This morning at 6 am, when I wasn't sleeping, I had a great post all written out in my head.
I am sure of it.
I can't find it now, but I am still sure of it - instead I will present a series of not necessarily related thoughts:

-today I ordered one of these (argh I found a cool picture but have not yet been able to make blogger show it! So click on the link below and go look at it!) for our house and donated one to a child in the developing world. Check it out at www.laptopgiving.org . Such a great thing to do, it's cheap and a good cause and it looks like it will be a blast for my kids to use too.

-just found out that my youngest son has been having "conversations" online with friends he knew before he lived with me - this is on a site called runescape - now I don't have a problem with him keeping in touch with them but he only just let it slip out that he has been doing it and I feel really uncomfortable that he has kept it quiet. I want all my kids to tell me if they are chatting online and with whom - it is about making sure that we are clear about internet safety! Argh. Now I have to think it out and see if I am being unreasonable or not.

-standing on the teeny tiny scale that I bought at Goodwill, squinting down at the dial, I discovered that I lost no pounds this past week, despite being on weight watchers.
What is up with that? I'm guessing that although I am very strict about tracking my foods and my intake, I also exercise a lot (tues/mon or fri /sat - usually an hour on the elliptical and thurs- is a kilometre swim) so I have been building noticeable muscle in my arms and legs and of course that weighs more than fat - right? Right?
I feel weird about doing weight watchers btw, it has been good for helping me be conscious, dare I even say intentional about what I am eating in the last two weeks but it does freak me out to be in a program that puts so much emphasis on being skinny as being the most important thing.
I don't want to be skinny. And it would be kind of a moot point anyway, given my broad shoulders, tall stature and of course my large chest. A good, stolid peasant frame is what I have and I'd be gaunt instead. NOt a good look for anyone.
One thing I can say though, is that I don't feel deprived in watching what I eat - just a little boring maybe ....

must herd 3 of my kids to park, our oldest daughter is staying at home - solitude is her muse or is that the computer?

Remembrance Day

2007-11-11T16:01:00.000-08:00

Today is Remembrance Day in my country.

At church I asked that we observe 2 minutes of silence at 11am to remember and think about the sacrifices that so many have made for our country and for us.

The people doing the service today, we are a lay led congregation, hadn't planned for it and I think were a little taken aback when I brought it up.

Even in the midst of preparing for a service on peace, centred on the songs of Pete Seeger, they seemed to have forgotten about those who this day is meant to recall.

Or perhaps the waters are so muddied now, that they felt that Remembrance is all about glorifying war.

It could be just an oversight, because getting ready to do a service is all about a million details and even the most obvious things can slip right past without notice.

It is quite easy to forget that this is not an ordinary day.
(The stores are filled with Christmas decorations, I guess it would be hard to try and sell Remembrance knick knacks, the profit margin would likely be much smaller.)

Maybe in some ways that is alright too.
That we live a life of such comfort and safety and freedom that we can let it pass by without much notice.
Isn't that why wars were fought?

All the congregation stood in silence for two minutes.
Tears came to my eyes as I thought of my grandfather, who suffered from shell shock in WW2 and of my husband's grandfather who lay, wounded, on the beach in Galipoli with water soaking his wedding picture and a letter from home in his pocket.

I nearly lost it when on of the little ones said Daddy? Daddy?
and he answered that he was right there, because so many never could be.

Worse than columbus

2007-11-10T11:01:00.000-08:00

My husband and I are struggling through on the marriage thing.
Not in a bad way, but it is emotionally and thus physically exhausting.

So a small story about what a goof I am, as a distraction.

On Thursday I packed up 3/4s of my brood (2 boys and youngest girl) and headed out into the open prairie that surrounds our city.
The sixteen year old was the designated navigator and he had very detailed directions on how to get to our friends acreage, clutched in his hand.
I wasn't that concerned anyway, because although it is a bit tricky to find, I did have my trusty cell phone.

Which showed us that we had no service as soon as we got within six km of her house. And we ended up driving around for nearly 30 minutes before we through sheer accident happened upon her home.

Okay, maybe the fates intervened too, because what with me and my darling oldest son being dyslexic, neither of us realized that we had made a crucial turn as a left instead of as a right.

Our arrival meant rejoicing all around and we had a lovely visit.

And then, a few hours later with the shadows of early evening lengthening on the land, we prepared to go.

This time, not only did my friend draw a map and go over explicitly, every twist and turn in it and make us repeat it back, she also had her husband do the same - with both me and my son.

So, you may ask, how is it that we ended up driving for a full half hour in the wrong direction?
Even after I called my husband during one of the few moments that my cel phone had service to ask for help?
Even after he managed to tell me that I was east of the city which was my hoped for destination?

I don't know.
Some things are not meant to be within the ken of humankind and that includes how I could then announce to the car at large that we were east of the city which meant to get to the city we needed to keep driving east.

Yup, I'm a dork.

And my son comes by his navigational deficits honestly.

So boiled down:
-it was pitch black
-we were travelling far off the beaten trail
-and had we not decided to aim for a cluster of lights that slowly became a town - we would probably be stuck out in a ditch somewhere, even now.

Now and then...

2007-11-09T09:15:00.000-08:00

I cried this morning with a mixture of relief and rage over the news from Navigating.
Relief that their daughter Danielle is NOT being removed from their home right now and rage at the lies her social worker and therapist were caught in.

Years ago, back when I had two little kids and had a dayhome and volunteered at our local women's shelter - I had someone phone in a false report to social services about the dangerous state of my house....
fortunately the investigating worker called my supervisor at the dayhome agency first and that wonderful woman, M, managed to convince her that there was nothing wrong and to back it up, M would and did do a surprise visit early the next morning - with her own supervisor, the head of the agency, in tow.

It was embarrassing, I answered the door in my pjs because I had no dayhome kids that day and we were have a seriously do nothing day - and it was horrifying, MY GAWD WHO COULD POSSIBLY WANT TO DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS? - and it was terrifying.

Mouth drying, heart hammering, blood pounding in my ears, terrifying.

What if, based on this call, an overzealous social worker had come straight to my messy house, found me not even properly clothed and my children with the food stuck to their faces and possibly wet diapers and had taken them away?
Even just for a day?

Taken my children away to who knows where and who knows what?

For the first year we had my two youngest, I lived that fear almost daily. They were in a limbo of not mine but mine, I wasn't even their foster parent or guardian, I was known as and told to fill out legal documents as being their pre-adoptive parent.

I lived in fear of actually having to visit an emergency room with them, all that year. Because that would have meant a phone call to social services and a worker to ask about how they were hurt and why and what if the answers just didn't seem good enough?

My youngest daughter actually gave herself a black eye by running into our front door.

No! Really she did!
Honest!

And if asked what had happened to her face, with the awful purpling bruise up into her eyebrow, she would stare blankly and say nothing till I prompted her with a "you ran into the door honey, remember?".

Think about how good that sounds.

It doesn't here and it didn't to me, so I can just imagine how badly it could crash it burn in front of a suspicious worker.

It was an awful time and yet, unlike for foster eema, foster abba, and "danielle" most of it was only in my head.

Letting out a shuddering breath.

BTW, I did figure out very quickly who had made the phone call.
Let us just say that the women's shelter was the rather dysfunctional private empire of the executive director and my husband, recently elected to the board of directors, had instigated (as part of the duties that the position legally required of him) the first annual review of the exec. director that had happened in 7 years.
Yes, I am saying that she placed the phone call.
And that is just one of the spiky tips of that ugly iceberg.

Yay to the Navigating family!
I know it's not over yet and I will keep pulling for you.

Dollars

2007-11-08T12:02:00.001-08:00

I keep checking over here.
Hoping against hope and reality that there has been a last minute reprieve for this family.

Other wise I have been snappish and grumpy at my children this morning and I am not sure why exactly, although there are plenty of little things going on.

My oldest daughter is scheduled to meet with a therapist this upcoming Tuesday morning, I just don't know if as sad and withdrawn as she can be is "normal" or rather, is it safe.

-argh, I really am unlivable, snarling away at my kids for really stupid stuff just now-not stupid stuff they are doing-it is me being that way-

Anyway,
dogs are booked in for their overdue shots appointment next week, the repair guy is scheduled to come out on Monday and see why our Bosch dishwasher takes 2-3 hourse to wash a load....

it is going to be an expensive month.

Which is great (not really), because we just paid the bill for having the concrete poured for our itty bitty back drive way and the garage pad and it came to nearly TWICE what we had originally be quoted for it.

Where I live, we are in the middle of a huge economic BOOM so building materials have achieved the status of rare jewels.

12,0000 bucks for a double garage worth of the grey stuff.

Keep an eye out for engagement rings set with polished chunks of cement is all I am saying.

Money money money

2007-11-08T11:46:00.000-08:00

I keep checking over here.
Hoping against hope and reality that there has been a last minute reprieve for this family.

Other wise I have been snappish and grumpy at my children this morning and I am not sure why exactly, although there are plenty of little things going on.

My oldest daughter is scheduled to meet with a therapist this upcoming Tuesday morning, I just don't know if as sad and withdrawn as she can be is "normal" or rather safe.

-argh, I really am unliveable, snarling away at my kids for really stupid stuff just now-not stupid stuff they are doing-it is me being that way-

anyway,
dogs are booked in for their overdue shots appointment next week, the repair guy is scheduled to come out on Monday and see why our Bosch dishwasher takes 2-3 hourse to wash a load....

it is going to be an expensive month.

Which is great (not really), because we just paid the bill for having the concrete poured for our itty bitty back drive way and the garage pad and it came to nearly TWICE what we had originally be quoted for it.

Where I live, we are in the middle of a huge economic BOOM so building materials have achieved the status of rare jewels.

12,0000 bucks for a double garage worth of the grey stuff.

Keep an eye out for engagement rings set with polished chunks of cement is all I am saying.

PLEASE stop buy and give some support

2007-11-07T18:15:00.000-08:00

My blog friends over at Navigating The Maze
are in a terrible place right now, tomorrow their foster daughter, their daughter that they want to adopt is to be removed from their home, her home...
and no reason is given at all.

She is not going to a different home, there aren't any, she may end up back in the temporary shelter....there is almost nothing right about what is going on....

Stop over to give them some support, say a prayer, keep them in your thoughts.

They are fighting for their family and knowing that many of us are pulling for them can't and won't hurt.

Thinking of you Foster Abba, Foster Eema and "Danielle", thinking and praying and hoping....

Much love.

How to Win Stump The Mom Game?

2007-11-06T08:23:00.000-08:00

Easy, ask the kid for the answer.

It took a while till I was able to trust myself to talk to my youngest child about her getting up and partying in the middle of the night in her brother's room - but when I did it was very worth it.

She said:
"during the day I am focused and busy and I can not think about my birth family and sad/bad things, at night I don't have any distractions and I can't not think about it and I do whatever I can to make that go away"

So now we are trying to set aside a chunk of daytime for her to do things that are all about her birth family. Yesterday before supper, she got out markers and paper and drew pictures of her sad cat who missed her, her old house that was upset because it missed her family and an upside down little girl - because that is how she feels right now.

Wow.

Last night, she did managed to stay in her own room.

Yeah, yeah, I know that there will be more stuff coming down the pike, but I am going to savour this moment for a little while.

Wow.

What a kid.

Stump the Mom!

2007-11-05T08:25:00.001-08:00

Aaaaaaaaarrrrrrrgh!
Yes!
There is our exciting theme music and that means it is time once again for North America's best loved game show:

STOMP, ER, STUMP THE MOM!

Today:
She is adorable and she is 8 and why yes, she does have trauma from having been left to the indifferent mercies of the fostercare system ("awwwwwwwww") and yet...
does this mean that she should continually get up in the middle of the night and go into her brother's room to wake him up, laugh and giggle and jump around?

Mom says: No!
Child says: well, nothing but she sure is cute the way she tilts her head and innocently blinks her large eyes.

So far Mom has stomped loudly and nearly naked into brother's room, stating loudly that "you are in such trouble now!" then slightly more quietly turned out nightlights, turned on hall light (because nightlights are not there for ambient lighting for personal parties at 1:30am) and insisted that "you guys had better go to sleep right now, I don't want to hear it, I love you! Good night!"

Not sure if volume or near nudity was the most effective, perhaps was hair and condition of face.

Fast forward to this morning.
Mom cannot finish her work out because her back is spasming when she starts trying to figure out how to handle the whole thing.

Still haven't figured it out.

Back is still a mess.

Youngest children have been fed and are entertaining themselves, individually in their rooms.

Score so far:
Mom is stumped.

Snow on the roof

2007-11-04T12:02:00.000-08:00

The garage is still unfinished.

For the sake of myself, I am not going to even go there as to why we are in the first week of November and have a garage with half of a roof on it...I probably will some other time but I won't right now....

So, our guy is supposed to come over, four minutes ago by my clock and probably try and convince me that it is totally safe for him to prance around up there in the slippy stuff bodily dragging heavy 4 x 8 sheets of strand board -

There are reasons NOT to hire a friend to work for you.

******
My back is a tiny bit less spasmy today, we are seeing the counselor tomorrow and the husband, younger children and I are visiting with the semi-delinquint birth brother this afternoon.
What with him being out of the pokey and all and staying in yet another lovey motel with a special ambiance, all of its own - Johns are so colourful after all - and no I haven't done anything like talk to the minister of social services about it yet - there was a big expose in the paper a few months ago about it and I expected that to have an effect ....
it didn't.

Did I mention the big doofus pulled a knife on a police officer?
While under the influence of drugs of course.

La la la la la la la la la la la....

must eat lunch, am on Weight Watchers online so no meetings for me and yes, I think I signed up because during the visit with my Mom - she commented on how I get being heavy and big from my Dad's side of the family.

Argh.

When are you guys going to see the marriage counsellor?

2007-11-03T12:22:00.000-07:00

My oldest son just asked me that.
The question that is the title of this post.

So, to review:

-my mother: she lives much closer to us now - only a twelve hour drive in a minivan stuffed with two adults, two surly teenagers, two seriously freaked out ptsd tweens and two dachshunds (and by the way a minivan is called mini because there is no space for crazy stuff like oh say, luggage - and wants us to visit and so we did in mid October and my back has in spasms ever since.

-church has been a source of stress- there are nice people and good things happening but I seem to keep tripping into the pools of serious, whacked out dysfunctionality and I think I am at the end of my rope, very nearly.
I lead a youth group and the theme this year is "What do you stand for?" and I know I'm in trouble because I keep asking myself that question and coming up kind of empty when it comes to me in the church.

-home has been one too (oldest doesn't want to talk about growing up because it overwhelms him, elder daughter is in the throes of intense and worrying angst over everything and doesn't like leaving the house at all, younger son can be sooooooooooo unfocused and is entering the just because I used to think it was cool doesn't mean I do anymore phase of life and then there is the youngest, melting and refreezing ice princess)

-homefront 2: (husband, workaholism and huge changes on his work front) and that has meant many tears and frustrations and misunderstanding on both sides but we are going to see a counsellor, obviously...and no...this will not (hopefully) become a marriage as slowmotion train wreck blog - although it would probably increase readership!

-and finally, people keep driving into me!
Geez Louise! First someone drives smack into the back of my van smashing our stryofoam bumper and gutting themself on our trailer hitch, that was a month ago and then today some seriously stupid weeeeeeenie changes lanes into the back side of the van and then drives away!

Pass the muscle relaxant, please!

BTW 3 down.

-

birthday brief

2007-11-02T19:40:00.000-07:00

Our oldest daughter turned fourteen today.
She is taller than I am, and probably smarter too.
I dragged her unwillingly to Old Navy, she doesn't like to shop, because she was in dire need of jeans to fit her long legs.

We are watching The Addams Family on dvd, she has just finished off a bag of bacon flavoured potato chips and is fiddling with her new ipod nano.

Not bad.

Desperately Seeking Words

2007-11-01T09:14:00.000-07:00

About NaBloPoMo
Post every day for the month of November. That's all you have to do.

Yeah.
All I have to do.
Post every day for the month of November.

I don't even get to brush my teeth every day!

It has been really busy.

Sitting in the midst of piles of paperwork, some kids in therapy, another waiting for me to get on the ball and book her into her own therapy, dogs have shots and exams overdue....
stay tuned ....
I'm supposed to be back by tomorrow at the latest!

Participating in
NaBlahBlahBlahPoMo

I had a good title for this....

2007-10-04T11:02:00.001-07:00

But that was before I was fully awake, I think.

Right now I think we may be past the hump of all the things that start up at this time of the year.

Although we homeschool all the time, we do a lot less of the scheduled classes and outings in the summer and that makes for quite a change to get used too.

Where are all the words that I had for this post?
Honest they were right there just a few seconds ago...maybe they are with the library book I can't find. At least they are not going to cost ten cents a day.

Ooops, hang on a minute...I think I was going to divide what I was going to say into different categories and then post them separately over the next days to make it look like I was being a thoughtful and industrious sort.

Yeah, maybe I will try that:

Workaholism.
Right now we are in the calm after the binge.
Sounds weird doesn't it. My referring to that kind of thing as a binge.
Having lived with my Dad, the raging alcolholic, I think it is a reasonable description.

See, my husband, the lovely and lovable Cabana Boy, has been trained up since he was a wee lad to believe that,
a) he just didn't work hard enough
and
b) any success he had, didn't count, because he didn't work hard enough for it.

My husband has an interest in mathematics and science, so if you don't understand how his mind works, you might think that of thing comes to him easily, that he doesn't have to put any effort into it.

That is what my father in law believed and he made sure that Cabana Boy knew it.

In grade school Cabana Boy brought home a math test with a mark of 96%. His father looked at it, then at him, and demanded to know what had happened to the "other" 4%.

Cabana Boy's older brother was often held up as being "more respectable" because he actually had to work for his marks.

His younger brother was given a 6 week trip to Europe (with his girlfriend) as a congraluatory gift for finishing his first and only degree.

When I met Cabana Boy, he was a graduate student in engineering, he kept a sleeping bag and toiletries at the University because he often slept there overnight while working on his research.

This was a warning sign.

Shortly after we were married he began to move rapidly up the ranks of the company he was in.

Then the travel started.
Frequent business trips.
Working later, starting earlier.
The laptop coming home and being used in the evenings for work.
Then the cel phone.
Now it is a cel phone with web and email access.

Me?
As I watched him pull away, (because there is no way to work that hard without taking the time and energy away from other things, and I was the other things)...
I tried to adjust to it, understand it, talk about it and to be reasonable about it.
That worked about as well as the being unreasonable about it - crying, yelling, threatening, raging and withdrawing.

And if it has always been only one way, then we would never would have lasted as long as we have.

I don't think he could have lasted as long either.
The saying "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy" could be amended to say that "All work and no play makes C.B. a stressed out boy with heart palpitations, tension racked body and exhaustion."

The times in between the binges are good.
Really good.

But I would like us break free of that cycle.

And maybe we are.

Or, rather he is.

Because just like the working so much isn't about me, the not working so much isn't about me either.

He sees that there is a problem.
He has called himself a workaholic, publicly.
He is trying to makes some changes.

I'm not kidding myself.

But I am looking (tentatively) forward to a possibly different future with a happier, more relaxed spouse (maybe).

No, this picture is not meant to represent the state of my marriage - this is what our garage looked like on Friday.
Don't worry, not a tornado or freak accident - just a rotting, sunken building that had to be pulled down before it fell down.

Hopefully I will be able to post pictures of a new garage before the spring..

Home Again.

2007-09-25T05:41:00.000-07:00

Went away.
Ran in my race, 10 K.
Had a really nice time, mostly.

Missed my kids VERY much.
Took stupid amounts of pictures.

Spent time on the way home, knitting. looking at photography magazines, snapping pictures out the window of the van and praying to my own personal Higher Power that we would not crash into anything.

Friend who provided transportation, drove with one hand most of the time, when not drinking coffee or Pellegrino, eating chocolate, gesturing, trying to find the right cd or song or clapping both hands together when delighted about something.
All this, on an UNdivided highway, at speeds of 125 - 130 km/h.
(This picture was taken from the van when it slowed down to 80k/hr because there were horses loose on either side of the road. They were very, very close to the road. I am still surprised and grateful that we didn't hit one.)

If I spoke to her about anything, I was in the back seat, she would swivel to make eye contact with me.
At one point, coming off of a ramp, she decided to merge into a brief opening in the traffic, and in doing so, managed to make every unsecured thing in the vehicle, slam with force into the opposite side of the van.

And finally...
I like Steve Earle but not that much and not that loud.
When the pauses between songs would come, my ears would ring from the vacuum of noise.

More than happy to get home.
Alive.

All my kids missed me.
Monkey was very teary this morning, unusual for her to be emotional, and kept coming to me to be reassured with hugs.
Buddy kept grinning whenever he looked at me, and he did a lot, and told me he felt insecure while I was away.
The older kids too, made it plain that they were happy I was home, too.

This week, tomorrow even, our garage is supposed to be torn down.
A significant event.
Especially considering it is mostly still full of stuff.

Gave my husband a quiz to see if he was a workaholic - he scored 81% on it.

No, I am not surprised but I did cry because I felt a bit vindicated.
Try talking to someone about living with a workaholic.
There is usually less than no sympathy or understanding.

Over the years I have been told that I am too needy and perhaps ungrateful for what I have.
Where to go from here?

I don't know.
I woke up and wrote this out because my lower back was spasming.

So, I guess we will just have to wait and see.
Only, I'm a little, tiny bit worried that this will all be too little too late.

Probably not.
That is just the way I am feeling.

I keep thinking about the truth that "love is just not enough to fix what is broken."

Why yes, that is my lower back going into spasms.

What's Up

2007-09-19T06:05:00.000-07:00

For the last few days, every time I shut my eyes, even to blink - all I could see was my Monkey's little body falling, head first, into the ground.

Now that is easing off a little bit.

Whatever I can give thanks to for that can have it.

It still makes breathe a little funny to think about how badly hurt she could be. She should be, frankly, if she hadn't landed on this kind of stuff.

When I reached her, she was sitting up!
Crying and with the wind knocked out of her but she was sitting up!
I was so freaked out, eight foot dive into the ground and she was sitting up.
She should have had a concussion and critical neck and back injuries! At least that is what I was expecting.

The pediatrician at the Emergency Room said that there was just no comparison between kids who fall on the rubber stuff and on almost any other surface.

Well, I am a believer and would gladly become the official spokesperson for the compressed rubber playground matting industry.

****

Our 16 year old son wrote the test for his learner's license and passed it yesterday!
So proud of him!
Not even for the passing part, simply for the being calm and mature and not having even the most minor of meltdowns in approaching it.
He is a perfectionist and has a lot of anxiety about this kind of thing and he handled it all so well.
Cabana Boy (my husband) can barely wait to take him out and let him drive in the newest vehicular addition to the family.
Meet Smartie:My husband is deliriously happy with his new Smart car.
And I think it is the cutest thing on wheels.
It seats only two people but is very roomy, my husband is 6"2 and great for commuting and running errands in the city and incredibly cheap to run.
This is a diesel version which won't be available in North America anymore because the American market does not seem to want anything but gasoline fueled vehicles. Diesel is very inexpensive. To fill the car cost $5 and it will give (so far nearly 200km) to the tankful.

****
My lovely oldest daughter is still struggling in the throes of being 13 and the pounding surf of waves of hormones rocking through her.
It is tough on everyone, her mood swings and unhappiness but toughest of all on her. She tries hard not to be plain nasty and miserable and likes to spend huge quantities of time, alone in her basement bedroom.

It has been tough enough, that my oldest son talked to me about it. Concerned that this was not a "normal" thing.
I smiled, I couldn't help it!
He had been H*ll on wheels for nearly 5 years. I reassured him that it was pretty normal and what he had gone through (and put me through) was very similar.
He took a deep breath, sighed and looked into my eyes.
"I am so sorry."

Who knew I would ever hear such a thing from him?
Oh how he seemed to despise me during those early teen years.
Wow.

****

Buddy seems to be on a fairly even keel these days.
He really is the most marshmallowy of people. Soft and sweet natured (I will miss that a great deal if it disappears during his adolescence), it tears at my heart to think of him ever have been neglected or harmed. There are moments when I am filled with such rage about it.
Not often, because those experiences are really not about me. But damn!
If you knew him, you would be blown away by his resiliance and his fluffy headed ducklingness.

The amazing and wonderful news is that he has made friends.
Real friends.
It took him a long time to figure out where he fit in with the other boys in our homeschool circle but it was certainly worth the wait. I think he is just more ready now, to believe that this world he has been living in for over a year is the real world. That it is safe to make connections with other people.

Last night was incredibly special.
He and his younger sister talked for the first time ever about their memories of their birth Mom and the different people they have lived with before they got here.

Let me emphasize that.
THE FIRST TIME they have ever talked about anything like this.

They play together very well and a lot, giggle, run around and be silly or sometimes argue but they have not every spoken about their shared experiences with each other, on their own.

I have been encouraging it for the last year. Not pushing, just letting them know that they could. Telling them that their stories will be very different, even though they have both been through the same situations and usually together.

They were sitting at the table doing crafts after supper and I could hear them telling each other things, sharing their feelings.

I look at these words I am typing and know that there is no way that they convey the miracle of it all.

But it is.

****

Monkey is having a lot of trouble going to sleep at night right now.
She will be rigid with unexpressed rage and all sorts of other emotion.
Trapped with it, because she has so few skills and so little practice in letting it out.
What an inspiring kid. And frustrating too.
Make no bones about that.
In the past month she has been able to drive me crazier, faster than anyone else in the house, as she pendulums back and forth between what she knew before she got here and trying to do what she things she is supposed to now.

I would say that watching the movie Uncle Buck was the trigger for this round of upheaval. That was nearly three weeks ago and the ending scene, with a mother and a daughter, previously estranged, embracing and the mother saying everything is going to be different now...well that set her off.

Which is good.
Better being expressed than not.

But it has all been exacerbated by the finally seeing Obie again last week.
We haven't seen him, nearly all summer. Not our choice. But he is a fourteen year old kid with a substance abuse issue and we leave it up to him to contact us now.

That is tough enough. Monkey worries about him and is sad that we can't save him and fix him and she does seem to really understand why that can't happen. She is also angry that he uses drugs and alcohol but feels that she can't express it to him, because than he might disappear from her life.

God.
She is only 8.

Birth Mom using Obie as a go between to try and see Monkey and Buddy, isn't a good thing either.

Cabana Boy and I are trying very hard to not respond through Obie, to not use him, but it is hard.

Right this minute, I don't think we have to plan much for her actually contacting us through the post adoption registry at social services - but never say never.

But on Sunday night, she had Obie call us to find out how she didn't know how to find the post adoption services.

Allow me some bitterness here.
She could figure out the system well enough to put Obie into permanent full time care when he was 10 but not this?

I don't think she is ready yet to actually pull this off by following the rules and we have decided and took Monkey and Buddy's opinions into consideration too, so they are a part of that decision, that if she isn't following the rules than we don't have anything to do with her.

Whew?
A lot huh?

And I haven't even left for my two nights away yet.

That will be interesting.

Fall should only about the leaves!!!!!

2007-09-15T17:02:00.000-07:00

Lunch with Obie and then a short visit to a nearby playground before we take him back to his group home and go pick up Bunny from her art lesson.

Me, camera in hand, kids playing tag on and off the playground equipment and then...

my youngest daughter is falling, headfirst from the top of the 8 ft slide, having slipped under the guard rail

she hits the ground, I see her neck fold and her back crumple and

I am flying to get to her and I can't get there fast enough...

and thank God and all safety minded pencil pushers and rule makers that the surface she hits is made of recycled rubber because after a long trip to and a long time spent in the hospital she is home and fine except for a little bruising.

This evening finds me grateful for so much.
My Monkey is home with us and all in one piece.

Her hard headedness, that I have complained about so often?
I am so glad for it right now.

Paved with...

2007-09-14T11:07:00.000-07:00

I do have the very best of intentions...
dear god, did I finish cleaning up the smoothie from the couch or was I distracted by the pictures that need to be hung that I saw as I was using toilet paper to dab the smoothie from the plug in port hole things on the side of my laptop?

No, I have not finished cleaning the smoothie from the couch...
and I am going to type this instead of leaping up to do that.

Oi.

You know how you fantasize about somebody just handing you money and what you would do with it?

Well, in a small way we have been living the reality of it here for the last week and it just isn't as good as it might sound.

My father in law died almost exactly, a year ago and oddly enough on the anniversary of his death is when my husband recieved his inheritance.

It was a pretty sad occasion for everyone anyway and the money just seemed to exacerbate that feeling.

Yeah, we'll get over it but it is a strange experience to go through.
Everytime we use the money for anything, I feel sad and think about how much I would give to have the man with us, instead of a part of his estate.

And this is ME saying it.

I didn't even like him that much.
Or him, me.

But my husband did.
My children did and
he loved them.

We miss him.

Monthly lunches at an all day breakfast place, thoughtfully considered and painfully purchased birthday and Christmas presents, funny cards - just knowing he was there and that he cared.

So...
now onto birth parent relations and how they will play out in our situation.

To be honest, I have no real idea.

I contacted our old social worker right away and she said use the service that the government has set up, where pictures and letters can be sent, from either side, and forwarded on.

That makes sense to me.
And works for my comfort level too.

I would be lying if I said I didn't feel a little threatened at the prospect of BMom showing up in our lives.

I do.

They are MY kids. MINE.

But mostly, what I want, with both my heart and my head is for BMom to be healthy and stable enough to be a constant in their lives.

So in order for that to work, I do have one big requirement that BMom will have to meet if she actually wants to start seeing them again:
-she has to be clean, not using drugs or alcohol and she has to be somewhat stable, hopefully not living on the streets

Damn, but reading that makes me sound so judgemental.
But it has been four and half years since they last set eyes on her and I am not ready to deal with the fallout that seeing her would have on them, without some sense of her good intentions.

Right now, as far as I know, BMom is in jail and is telling Obie (older 14 yr old birth brother in care - which means a combination of living in group homes and on the street) that when she gets out, she will get an apartment and Obie can live with her and that he needs to ask me to give her our phone number.

Okay, so I am skeptical.

But I do have this fantasy, where she is a part of their everyday lives and is healthy...and I will continue to hold it carefully away in my heart.

BTW I have talked to all my kids about this stuff.
I figure they should now as much as is feasible for them to know.

Right now, neither of them want to see her.
they have both said, in different ways, that they are just worried about how hard it would be to do right now.

So I am encouraging them to think about letters or cards, picking photos to send and when I get to it, soon, I will print out and frame some of the recent pictures we have of her with Monkey's eyes and Buddy's smile and put them up on the family picture wall and hope and plan for it all to work out.

Thank you for your thoughts about birth family relations it is always helpful.
Now here is something else to ask for help with:

My two youngest kids are of native heritage, something we call Metis, I don't know if there is the same thing in the states or not - anyway I want to honour that and have it be a part of their lives but I also am very aware that I don't really have a clue what I am doing -
any suggestions on how to do it right?

When your laptop is in the shop

2007-09-08T06:24:00.000-07:00

It is harder to do anything with a blog, like post a new entry or anything like that.

Much has been happening, of course, with kids how could it not be?

We are mulling over a request for contact from Birth Mom, for instance. She sent the message not through the regular channels of social services but through the kids' older brother.

How is that for something to think about?

When I am not using my husband's laptop to try and hurriedly check in, I will expand more on that.

Other huge(ish) happenings - we are preparing to demolish and then build another garage in our backyard, my husband is deeply happy with a new possession (pictures in the next post - I think) and I am taking more pictures and will post more to my private picture blog soon and ummmm.....
well more stuff later.

Hoping to fit a run in and then at some point, catch up on other people's blogs and even (gasp!) upgrade my blogroll - so if you aren't there and should be, please drop me a line.

Oh, how miss my macbook, this is my 3rd day without and all it needs is a new and bigger hard drive.

Getting It

2007-08-26T20:10:00.000-07:00

Even with the entire last post where I talk about my two youngest children being freaked right out about my going away for a weekend in late September, even with that apparent understanding of how they felt...

I didn't clue in how bad it was until it was time to tuck Monkey into bed and I saw that she had licked all the skin around her mouth into an angry looking red, raw, chapped state.
It had been fine this morning.

See, I went away last year at this time, for the same reason, with my running buddies to another town to run in an event, and this year I thought, I assumed (ass out of u and me) that this time it would be no big deal.

They can't control their raging fear and they hide it as best as they can but it comes out because it is overwhelming.

I promised that we would talk more about it all tomorrow and I reminded them that I would bring them back the same kinds of souvenirs as I did last year (tshirts with cows on them) and now I am in the process of negotiating with my older children to allow the younger ones to sleep in the same rooms while I am gone.

Bunny, 13, automatically said: how much and you don't mean in the same bed right?
and
Sunny, 16, scoffed at the idea of taking money for it but then began to worry away at how it would work out and what if Buddy was all bouncy and annoying?

There are other things going on and lots to do but right now I am just rocked to my core, again, by how tough my little ones have it and how we will get through it because that is what we do.

DUH

2007-08-26T11:10:00.000-07:00

Currently, if my youngest son even looks at me sideways I want to yell at him and unfortunately that is exactly what I end up doing.

I am not proud of it, nor do I imagine even remotely it is all his fault but for the love of pete whatever is going on with him and or me, I hope it ends soon.

It is really stupid stuff that is setting me off.

Really stupid, but also repetitive.

I wish I could figure out if it really is him or it really is me.
It could be me.

There could be some hot button hidden under the layers of time and trauma that he keeps unintentionally or intentionally tripping.
Or maybe I am doing the same to him.

Or maybe, the dim light slowly grows in my brain, he is in reaction to me going away in a few weeks and this is how he is expressing it.

Gimme a capital D.
Gimme a capital U.
Gimme a capital H.

Argh. I make myself crazy being so slow on the uptake with this stuff.

Heck his sister already gave me the technocolour heads up that this was a problem and yet did it occur to me before I go off into my own personal display of fireworks that this might be the root of his ~unbelieveably~ irritating, slack jawed, blank eyed, responsibility dodging responses to everything I say to him?

No.

He also has black circles under his eyes, which probably means he hasn't been sleeping properly - not something he will tell me until I grill him about it.

The hardest, single, damn thing I have found about parenting is just not being able to figure out what is going on - especially when they won't or can't tell me.

The funny thing, is that I am hiding up in my room, writing this instead of eating my lunch because I couldn't trust myself in his presence for even another second - he is too good at pushing my buttons.

You want to make me crazy when I am your Mom?
Faster than anything else on earth?
Wilfully deny that you are hungry and refuse to eat the food I have just made an effort to put on the table.
That shows me!

No, really it does.

I have some minor issues about food and it works every single time to get a rise out of me.

Where is that stupid book?

What book?

Oh the one I spent a half an hour reviewing in my bath this morning, nodding and making mental notes on how to handle issues with my kids,
How to talk to kids so kids will listen and listen so kids will talk, that's it.

Oh well.
At least I did some of it right.
All "I feel..." sentances and no belittling of the child.

Well, not much.

Now, must forgive myself my failings, hold my head up and go make things as right as possible and um, eat, oh yeah, that too.

The semi Usual

2007-08-25T17:31:00.000-07:00

A couple of nights ago, I got a phone call from a woman who was in her very first month of placement with a 10 year old boy who will hopefully become her son.

She was going BONKERS.

That is truly the best description I can think of.
I swear I could hear her vibrating through the phone.

Over fifteen years it has been just her and her husband and now, suddenly they are living with a kid with ADHD and a raft of other stuff that can come from being in the system.

We talked for nearly three hours and one of the things I came away with was a reminder of just how exhausting and overwhelming things were around here in the early months of placement.

I had honestly forgotten a lot of it, until I heard her describing the behaviours her kids was doing.

Still it isn't all gone either.
Yesterday I reminded the family at the dinner table that in about three weeks I was going away with friends and spending two nights away from home.

Monkey looked like I had slapped her, but only for a moment and then the blanked eyed mask dropped in place.

Are you okay with that? I asked her.

Mmmmhm. She nodded and concentrated on her food.

Then she was clingy all evening, distant at bedtime and came into my room and woke me up no fewer then four time in the night because she had bad dreams about some lady not being nice to her.

Yeah. Sure she is okay with it.

That combined with a few other things means that I am REALLY tired today and boy do I suck at this parenting thing when I am tired.

I'm embarrassed to admit this but I get mad.
The two of them have been here over a year and I expect them to change more in the way they handle stress and fear.

(Yes they have come a HELL of a long way but this isn't that kind of post, this post is about whining and complaining and feeling hard done by and wanting a nap and to lie in a tub full of warm, scented water, eating cream puffs and then sleeping through the night.)
* * * * * * * *
One thing that stands out in my mind from the phone conversation with the other struggling Mom, is that she asked me what we did for punishment in our home.

I was stumped because we don't punish.

Now don't get me wrong, I do yell, carry on, stomp, thump things and in general behave like as ass on what seems to be a semi-regular basis but we don't have a system where by if you do this and you are not supposed to, then you will have your favourite toy taken away.

On days when I am not tired I can go into, very eloquently, why punishment doesn't work.
Days like to day, I can tell you that I think it has to do with my incredibly short attention span and the fact that my kids' are even shorter.

And yes, on days like today, I prefer spending time with my older kids more than with my younger kids.
I'm so tired - of the constant high levels of neediness, of paying for mistakes that I didn't make.

And I am scared that I will be getting back into that awful cycle where I won't ever get enough sleep and I will never be good enough.

Of course, today, neither of my older kids happen to be in the throws of hysteria of any sort, hormonal or otherwise, if they were,
I think I might have to run away from home.

The eyes have it.

2007-08-21T21:07:00.001-07:00

My youngest daughter's eyes are really striking.

Hard as it is to believe, that isn't just parental pride speaking.

She has dark brown hair and golden skin with these large, light eyes framed by huge eyelashes.

They take my breath away and they irritate me all at the same time - they are so beautiful that they attract almost too much attention, which frankly isn't good for her on so many levels...

When Birth Grandma came for a visit last week, she brought an unexpected gift - recent pictures of Birth Mom, from only a week before.

Birth Mom needed someone to take care of her for a few days and Birth Grandma ended up being the one to do it.

Looking into the face of Birth Mom was, stunning, because she stares up at me from the photos with my youngest daughter's eyes.

Surreal.

Family Picture

2007-08-19T14:23:00.000-07:00

When your kids are really as beautiful as mine are...it is very difficult to not want to show them off to as much of the world as possible.

So, that being said.

If you want to see mine (and other pictures I have taken from time to time), please email me and introduce yourself (or re-introduce as the case may be) and I will invite you to my picture blog.

Now, if you will excuse me, I have to go and upload some pictures from the adoption celebration now too.

Unless, Captain Cabana Boy sees me and drafts me into his own personal crusade to mouse proof our house - AGAIN.

Up Persicope

2007-08-18T21:06:00.000-07:00

Three days ago we had our adoption party for family.
It was very special.
Our reservation was for a restaurant that actually rotates slowly on the top of a very tall building downtown on the edge of a river valley.
We arrived at 6:30pm, the six of us and Birth Grandma (Monkey and Buddy's maternal birth grandmother), then former foster parents with foster sister and then Aunt H and Uncle K (Cabana Boy's brother and his wife) and finally Uncle M and Aunt S with their two year old - fifteen people in total!

The staff were wonderful, they went to an extra effort to make a table that we could all sit at, which was a big deal - and our waitress was marvelous, warm and attentive.
The food was delicious, the view of the city, slowing changing as the restaurant turned, clear weather, day slowly melting into sunset....
it sounds a little soppy but it was truly just right.

The kids all did great, none of them, including the two year old, seemed to get overwhelmed or out of hand in anyway and we were there for almost 3 hours.

Cabana Boy and I had stopped at a boutique chocolatier to get tiny individual boxes of chocolates for each of our guests and slightly bigger ones for Sunny, Bunny, Buddy and Monkey. We handed those out early and then presented each of the four of them with these beautiful wooden keepsake boxes that one of my friends and her husband had made especially for this occasion.

(Very much like this one.)

It is hard to describe how beautiful they are. Each is made from a different wood, cherry, pecan, butternut and mahogany, handmade and polished, about the size of a large jewelry box.
I was a little worried that the kids might think they were a weird present or something but each of the really seemed to love their box, so we were so pleased.

Uncle K and Aunt H presented us with a gift certificate for a tree! And they will come and help us plant it in our yard! The kids are thrilled and we are thinking of an apple tree for in front of the house this fall, after the landscaping is done - we have to take out a nearly dead birch, so this is perfect.

(and yes, for those of you who remember, this is the same couple who gave us a rather poor reference for our adoption paperwork and were not that supportive at first - I am so glad that I chose not to confront them about it then or ever)

I don't know if I can capture just how much joy there was that night.
Everyone thought it was a magical time and everyone talked about how wonderful it was.
Just what we wanted for our four kids, something lovely and special that they will always think of as fantastic.

I am so damn lucky that it takes my breath away.

Just Called Granny

2007-08-17T20:49:00.000-07:00

A few minutes ago I got off of the phone with Granny.

Ann to me, because that is how I got to know her by through comments on a parenting site that we both frequented two years ago and by the time I got to her blog, that is how I thought of her.

She has been a voice of support to me and many others on this here internets, one that I have appreciated time and again, and a person I have counted and will continue to count as being one of my friends.

Some tough stuff is going in her life and family and she needs to know that she is not alone and that those of us who get how tough things sometimes are, understand where she is right now.

Ann, it was lovely to talk to you -
American accent and all :),
hope you could understand my funny Canajun voice...

thinking of you and your girls and all of your family and will be keeping in touch...
take care and just remember to breathe in and then breathe out....

Love
Me

Not Complaining

2007-08-02T17:54:00.000-07:00

It is getting hot here again, I'm tired, my left eyelid is twitchy, one and a half kids are sick, my husband thinks that by working all day then leaving on a business trip and coming home after midnight the next day and going to work the next morning is only going away for one day -

But...
I'm not complaining.

Really.

Right now things are pretty good.
My four beautiful children are just that, beautiful children, so beautiful in so many ways that I would be willing to and am hoping to "have" more in a few (three or four) years.

Craziness?

Got lucky this time and don't have a clue what we could be in for?

It ain't necessarily easy but it is right?
Yeah, I think that is it.

Just thinking about it, it may never happen -
but it could be pretty nice (some of the time and crazy making a lot of the other time).

The funny thing is, I know people who are better parents than I am. Who do and would do a better job than I do.

It is very doubtful that I would be the one picked to be the embodiment of motherhood...
but what the hell.

Hey, I'm having a craving for potato chips with rich goat milk mozzarella melted on them.

Not that I have ever actually had that before....

Mmmm, salt....grease...

hormones anyone?

My cameras and some pictures too

2007-07-28T20:53:00.000-07:00

In my hot (literally, it is above 31C here or 87.8F for those of you in the US) little hands is my newest camera - a Canon Rebel EOS XTI.

It was bought for me by my husband, mostly because I kept getting frustrated that my Canon Powershot S2 was unable to take the pictures of the quality I wanted, in low light and that the shutter speed was just too slow for many of the shots I was trying to take.

Don't get me wrong. I loved and still love that S2 and recommend it highly as a fabulous higher end camera for most people who would like something more than a point and shoot. And it takes up to ten minutes of DVD quality video! It still rides along with me in my purse, just in case.

The Rebel is fast, no more kids walking out of a shot before the shutter snaps and with the right lens it takes very good pictures in low light without the harsh glare of a flash.

That is important to me because I like taking pictures of people and usually you can get the best shots when they don't know that they are being photographed.

Some samples from my S2:

Rainbow with clouds.

Rain spotted rocks.

Wild rose.

All recently taken, this July with the Powershot S2.

Now for the Rebel:

Inquisitive deer in campground.

Much too early in the morning but pretty.

Gorgeous dog at the park.

In some ways it is hard to see the difference between the cameras, especially in these kinds of shots but in the ones that I can't post - of peoples' faces, I can see the difference.

Oooooh. I also have this lens.
Brand new as of a day ago.
Love it.

Back to our regularly scheduled programming of me angsting over, well just about everything and making tomato, basil and bocconcino cheese salad with my youngest son.
With pictures, natch.

Stretching my brain

2007-07-27T09:46:00.001-07:00

I have a new camera and now I have a new lens for it. Here is my gratuitous pretty picture of a dragon fly.

On our homeschooling camping trip , nearly two weeks ago now, something happened to me.

I had an "exchange of words" with another parent.

(Picture taken by me of lake in the early morning.)

And, it has set me to thinking.

The Dad, lets call him Dkhd, is someone newer to our circle, had never been camping with us before. I didn't know him that well, mostly just from hanging out at the park and some of our homeschool meetings, that kind of thing.

He is the kind of guy who likes to tease and joke, which is good because that sort of fits in with the rest of us and the give and take that we do.

It was after the group breakfast, when I walked into the cook shack to get a drink and he backed hastily away from me, I lamely joked that he reacted like that in fear of me, because he was using the water from "my" jug.

The next thing I know, Dkhd is leaning into my face and in low but clear tones, telling me that I am extremely passive aggressive and have been needling him all morning and he wants me to stop it.

I am so freaking embarrassed and horrified and shocked.
.

With my face burning with shame, my words came spilling out.
I offer him a heartfelt apology, I had never intended to upset him and had no idea I was and then sincerely promised that I would make every effort to never do so again.

I could barely breathe. I felt so bad that my actions had upset someone else so much and I was quickly slipping into that whirling vortex of ohmygod-i'msostupid-howmanyotherpeoplehaveibeentreatingsobadlywithoutknowingit -everyonemusthateme!

Which is when Dkhd says:
"So, you agree that I'm right, you are passive aggressive?"

WTF?
I don't get what is going on. So, I repeat my stil heartfelt apology, but this time I tell him "don't label me" ask him, not snarkily, but because I really I want to know, if by calling me names when I am saying I'm sorry, isn't he being passive aggressive?

He doesn't answer me.
Instead, he just waves his hand around to indicate the cook shack and all the people milling about in it, who oddly enough don't seem to realize that anything momentous is happening - and says:
"Well anyway, I'm just sorry that I had to address this issue in such a public place."

I ended up sitting in the woods, crying and crying.
I was a mess.
Depression was yawning in a big, black hole at my feet, I swear.

It took me a while to really put it all together and not want to hide from everyone.
I found my husband first and he helped me calm down.
He wanted to know who had upset me so much but I wouldn't tell him. It was his thing it was mine to deal with.

Spent the rest of the day with my sunglasses on and hat pulled down low over my face and avoided Dkhd as much as possible.

It was beautiful and sunny.
Saw a bear during my first paddle on the lake. Really enjoyed the company of my friends.
A momma and a baby moose swam through and I had my camera nearby!

Oh and my dog ratted out Dkhd to my husband.
It turns out that she kept creeping up behind Dkhd and grabbing a mouthful of the flesh from right behind his knee. Not biting him or piercing the skin or anything like that. Just....holding on. She did this FIVE times before she had to be shut up in the trailer.

Not that Cabana Boy did anything, that isn't really his style but he lost all friendly feeling he'd had previously.

I admit that I'm not quite over it all yet.
It shook me too hard.
The feeling of being emotionally attacked in a place that I thought of as safe.

Such a small thing in some ways and yet with such deep reverberations.

I have since been reminded that Dkhd had done the same kind of thing to another woman I know.

When she tried to tell me about it, I kind of brushed it off.
I didn't know what it was like. What she had meant.
And because I felt like I kind of knew him, I couldn't imagine it was as bad as all that.

I also found out that my youngest son had seen Dkhd 'be really mean" to my woman friend.
Those are his words. Buddy says that my woman friend kept apologising about having offended Dkhd and that Dkhd kept telling her that she was admitting that she had offended him.

Buddy was witness to it at homeschool swimming lessons and he never mentioned to me until I was telling him and his siblings why I wanted them to be careful around Dkhd. That he can seem nice but that I don't feel comfortable with them getting too close to him.

The guy is spooky and has problems, especially it seems, with women and not in particular with me.

I have to see him more than a few times a week.
He is usually at the swimming pool, the park and a couple of other places that my kids and I like to go to.
I'm not going to change our routine just to try and avoid him.
Still I have been finding it uncomfortable and I want that to stop, so I'm writing it all out here.

There are things I want to remember from it all.

Just because someone says I am the problem, it doesn't mean I am.
That I am stronger than I ever thought I was.
I want to listen better when a friend is telling me about something that upset them and to take them seriously.
I need to talk even more wiht all my kids about not keeping upsetting stuff to themselves.

Living with my youngest kids for the last year has been really great for training me when it comes to knowing the difference between real communication and manipulation.

One Week Legal

2007-07-23T07:45:00.001-07:00

I have a new camera.

It is very hot here, hotter than it has been in my imperfect memory.
We are thinking about buying something like this today. They are called evaporative coolers are swamp coolers and should work fairly well in our changing climate because it is very dry here and extra moisture is always welcome.

A week without my oldest daughter has been at least five days longer than I thought it would be. While she has been gone, her dog has attached herself to me. Now I have some concern that the dog might not swing her affections quickly enough back over to Bunny. As insurance, I have bought a small, foil bag of doggie num nums for Bunny to feed her dog and we are taking the dog to the airport to meet the flight with us.
The rest of the kids have been out of sorts about her being away. The youngest ones in particular. Buddy said something the other day that really sums that up - “IF Bunny comes back she’ll......”.
IF she comes back? Kid, the plan is for her to come back, she is just visiting Nan, not moving out! But for them, brothers and sisters have come and gone, they have not been permanent fixtures. How hard is that?

A week has also passed since we have found out that we are legal and it has been an interesting one.
Monkey and Buddy have both had slight behavioural side effects, some of which I blogged about - Monkey dancing outside my bathroom and singing etc. Often she ends up saying “I’m adopted! You can’t send me back! You are stuck with me!”.
This is no where near as annoying as it might sound and has a lot to do with a story I have told all my kids about my beloved husband.
Shortly after we were married, actually during our honeymoon - which was the two of us in a borrowed truck and camper unit - my new husband climbed into the driver seat of the truck with a grimy, “found” ball cap on his head (advertising agricultural equipment), started driving and once on the highway, lifted his butt up off the seat and filled the compartment with a boisterous letting of gas, then he burped, loudly and finally he grinned at me, shrinking my body against my door and said, “Yup, yyou married me and now you’re stuck with me!”.
The kids find this, HILARIOUS.
Yesterday, Buddy was grumpy about waking up and that makes him less than pleasant to deal with during breakfast. Very quickly we were in a situation where he was telling me to f off, after I called him an ass - he thought I was calling him an a hole, I wasn’t I was referring to ass as in donkey - although name calling is wrong and I shouldn’t have started it. Then there was the period where I grabbed him by his shoulders and I am not proud of that but oddly enough it was all over and resolved in less than five minutes. Even the part where we manage to talk out how we ended up off of the rails and apologies were made.

What else?

There was raspberry picking for 2 1/2 hours yesterday, just youngest kids and parents.

Sunny was happy to stay home with his brand new Wii. Except that it is broken and we are now having to wait for a replacement one from Nintendo.
Quite the success story to have gotten one anyway though.
No not because they are hard to find, but because in order to get one, my socially challenged son had to call the stores in town that get them in occasionally, every morning for a week to find one available. That is a big deal.

I am knitting and taking pictures. One of the things I’m trying out is self portraits, I want to see if by taking lots of pictures of myself I will become more comfortable with what I look like.
And thinking.
Lots and lots of thinking. Seems this year is a big year for that for me. There is so much that I want to put to rest. Things that I agonize about otherwise, mostly about being a daughter and a sister and functioning in my social communities.

Cabana Boy and I are looking at our retirement plans, sort of. More where do we want to go from here, how do we wan to get there?
I know I would like more kids.
Not now of course but some day.
There are other things I would like to do too, I’m just trying to weed out the wheat from the chaff.

Flood Gates

2007-07-20T07:38:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I told my son Buddy that a friend of his from church had died.

Jake was in his eighties and had a number of health problems.
During the past year he had lost the ability to speak, so Buddy and he have never had a spoken conversation.

That doesn't mean that they didn't communicate though.

Buddy was drawn to Jake from the first time he saw him.
Leaping to help get him a chair, a straw so that he could drink his juice more easily during coffee time, a small table to set up the small electronic device that Jake used to communicate with.

Other adults would murmur admiringly to me over how thoughtful and kind my boy was.

There was more than that for Buddy though, he wasn't just doing nice things for Jake, he wanted to connect with him - he would sit and talk to him and read what Jake had to say.
There was something there.

Buddy cried a little when I told him.
Climbed into my lap for a little while and then back out when we had to have lunch and do all the other things that were on the list for the day.

He was a little disconnected and I would forget why and be irritated.
It was hot too.

A few times he mentioned he was sad.
I was sympathetic and he would seem to perk up.

Then, just after he had changed into his pajamas for bed, he stumbled into my room, into my arms and chest, sobbing.

I pulled him onto my bed and sat for over an hour with him, crying, literally keening out the pain inside him.

All the loss my little boy has suffered.
So much.

And all I could do was hold him, stroke his sweaty head, and softly say helpless little things into his hair.

Okay, so she is at least a teeny bit emotionally healthy

2007-07-18T12:41:00.000-07:00

I am literally sitting in one of the smallest rooms of the house and why yes, I do have my laptop with me (what can I say? I'm a multi tasking woman...)
and it is a good thing too,
because then I can post to the world at large about my 8 year old who is singing at the top of her lungs and jigging energetically outside the now closed and locked door about:
"GOING TO THE BATHROOM ALL NIGHT AND DAY! GOING TO THE BATHROOM, YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, YEAH!"

Every once in a while she stops and takes a breath and starts again!
Oh now she is rattling the handle and pressing her face against the frosted glass.

I am, honest and for true, now hiding under a towel so that she can't stare at me.
Oh oh.
The laughing has stopped.

Silence.

For the love of all that is holy....what will happen next?

Wait...
is she trying to pick the lock now?

Aaaaaagh.

Today I Cried In Front of the Mail Carrier

2007-07-16T20:22:00.001-07:00

I ripped open the registered letter and there it was - our adoption decree!

All of our children are now officially ours, in the eyes of the government and anyone else who cares to look.

There was no court date or meeting with a judge for us, no dressing up and no family pictures.
Just some innocuous looking 8x10 pieces of paper handed to me on my stoop, stuck in amongst my electric bill and a handbill for a golf club.

Still it was one of the most wonderful moments of my life.

Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.

It has been an eventful week already and we feel a bit at loose ends, all of us, because Bunny, our 13 year old was whisked off by her Nan and Grandad this morning to spend a week with them far away. Over eight hours by car.

There is panic and fear and feelings of loss and loneliness mixed in for the youngest children and maybe for some of us adults too.

Still and all we are happy, a very small celebration with a grocery store ice cream cake and sparkling juice in a fancy bottle, we will wait till Bunny comes home and we are all here to do more of the big celebrating.

Mine.

Ours, says Cabana Boy, dryly but firmly.

Yeah. Okay.
Ours.

Ours.
Ours.
Ours.
Ours.

Gone Camping

2007-07-07T08:45:00.000-07:00

.....uh,
....or to jail, depending on whether or not we attempt to harm or otherwise maim each other before we get out of the driveway...
...
have a lovely week!

The Vacation itself will be fine...

2007-07-05T06:22:00.001-07:00

...but the getting ready for it makes me a basket case!

I hate it.
I make lists and piles and menus and try and force all the laundry through the machine so that we can have a good selection of clean clothes to make filthy...

The food is always interesting, considering that I have one kid that doesn't/can eat gluten or cow dairy... so I have to bake things for her today to bring with...

We are taking the four kids and three of the dogs, boarding one and it was only yesterday that I realized that we have made no arrangements for the care and feeding of our elderly guinea pig yet!

Aaaaaaah!!!!!!!
Must do that today and check prescriptions for kids and run around and buy stuff that we don't have and may not need but you know, we might...

So hopefully by this time on Saturday morning we will be almost ready to put 6 people, three dogs and all the stuff needed to keep them fed, hydrated, medicated, warm, clean, entertained, safe, sheltered and make them float, impervious to mosquitoes, sun and rain ....into or onto our minivan and attached vintage

Boler trailer (the one pictured is not actually ours but is so similar it might as well be). Here is a picture of the inside.

Although in ours, the sofa converts to bunk beds for the two youngest children and we never set the table and benches up, that is constantly the bed space for the parents.

Fortunately, at 6 and 1/2 feet wide it is just big enough to accomodate my husband.

The oldest two will have their own small tents to sleep in with their dogs. They have done this for the last two years and love it.

Okay, enough stalling.
Laundry and baking and house cleaning and....

aaaaaaagh!!!!!!!

A little good news

2007-07-04T07:15:00.000-07:00

No, we haven't received our adoption papers yet but...

Yesterday there were....
-two extra kid friends with us all day which was great

-we spent most of a beautiful, sunny day at a public outdoor pool with plenty of friends and snacks

-not only did we get to have pizza but there was also ice cream!

-our oldest son's room, being built in the basement, is nearing completion - hopefully in the next few weeks we will be painting it a eye wateringly perfect (in his opinion) hue....

(picture is of current room on main floor he wishes to replicate colour in new room)

and he will be able to move in and we will be able to move much of the stuff out of the play room and therefore make it so it can be played in again

-This time next week we should be happily camping on a beautiful lake with good friends

-Bunny decided to "groom" our wire haired dachshunds herself and (unlike my attempt last year which resulted in bald patches and embarrasing questions on the street from strangers) they look adorable (and it saved us like $80 bucks)

-kind words have been filling the comments to my post yesterday and my email and knowing that I am not alone is worth everything - thank you all.

Harsh

2007-07-03T17:00:00.000-07:00

This morning, I refused to take Monkey to a playdate.
She cried and I felt bad but I also held firm.

She kept us up late, playing with her light, faking us out about being awake and I have had it.

I also talked to her, starting with my being angry and then cooling down about that, and many other instances where she does not take into account the effect that she has on the lives of others in our house and in other areas of our lives.

There is also now a rule that outside of her possesions, her room and her feelings, nobody and that means Buddy in particular, asks her permission about anything.

She is 8 years old and she is not in charge of most things or situations and that is the way it is going to be.

That also means that there are now going to be two different bed times for them, Monkey will be in bed a 1/2 to a full hour before Buddy. She may not fall asleep but she will be tucked in and her lights will be out.
Hopefully this will result in some positive changes for everyone.
Buddy will get to spend some extra time, either on his own or with his older siblings and Monkey will not be able to order him out of the bathroom and demand to be allowed access to it first.

Yes, it is something that she has been doing and getting away with for quite some time.

When Monkey was crying this morning, I also steeled myself and did not scoop her up to comfort her. I did stay with her and talk to her, but I let her come to me physically.
I also talked to her about her feelings, saying that I could understand it if she was disappointed and unhappy about not going on the playdate.
Silence.
So then I asked her directly, are you unhappy about that?
She nodded.
I asked her if she could tell me that in words and....
she couldn't.

Not at all.
She struggled with it and finally shook her head and a fresh wave of sobbing erupted.

This morning I realized that she really can't use the words.
So I think we are going to be looking into signs that she could try to use and I need to get some of those "feelings" posters to put up.

How do you teach a kid empathy?
You take it back to the beginning and you do it just like with babies and toddlers.
That means a lot of supervision and a lot of intervention and a lot of modelling and a lot of repetition and positive re-inforcement.

I'm tired already.

Another telling thing was when she looked at me, with her real face and said, "But Mom, I don't KNOW when I am being cute."

I believe her.

*****
The title of this post has to do with how another parent that I know referred to me today.
She didn't mean it in an unkind way, I think, she probably felt she was being accurate and helpful but...
can I just say that it hurt?

A couple of weeks ago, I was really tired (okay, when aren't I?) and getting all the kids and all the stuff to the park for our homeschool meet up had been a detailed exercise in frustration and we ended up bringing different stuff than we were supposed to for a water fight and ....
my oldest son started in on me about how it was my fault or something like that and I snapped.

Really.
I got louder and used an angry voice and was inappropriate(ish) for about a minute...in front of other parents and then I was embarrassed and toned it all down and took a deep breath and dealt with it all and then discovered that the other parents were ignoring me.
And they ignored me for a good twenty minutes and I felt really, really bad...
like killing myself bad (no this is not a plea for help and no I am not suicidal nor am I prone to indulging in suicidal ideation, I just know that if I were this would be how bad I would have to feel for a while).

One of them later told me that they were ignoring me on purpose, to give me some time to just cool down.

Today I tried to talk to one of the parents about how hard it is sometimes to do what I am doing and she made the comment that "you do seem harsh with the kids" and then tempered it with "but I don't know what the rest of your life is like" -
but that didn't temper it enough to make me feel better at all, instead that crack that you might be hearing is my heart...

is there any way that I can say how very much I don't want to be seen or thought of as Harsh?
can I just say that?
I love my kids, when things are bad and when things are good
I work really hard at it
I want so much to do it as right as I can
I owe them so much and
now I am having a pity party but that is one of the words that I think of when i think of my own father

Harsh.
And it feels Harsh.

Sometimes you need to get away

2007-07-03T08:14:00.000-07:00

Yesterday morning, I started to cry.

At my husband.

I just couldn't face the prospect of dealing with my youngest children again.

They have been so mentally disconnected and goofy, but not in a funny or charming way.
There are so many clumsy self inflicted injuries, unsafe choices, and really constant, irritating behaviours.

Monkey is sporting a big bruise on her face, right under her eye from where she ran into the door last week.

Looks and sounds REAL good, lemme tell ya.

I can't let them out of my sight.
Seriously.

In May, shortly after Buddy did so well on his babysitting course, I started letting the two of them go off to the park (literally 1/2 block from our house) on their own, with him in charge.
It worked out well, they were allowed to go for an hour or less, I often joined up with them, it was really nice.

Then it all went sideways about halfway through June.
They came home and Buddy was really carrying on about having bumped his hand while they were playing and how much it hurt. It was swollen up and bothered him for days. It took a while but what it came down to is that they were running way too fast, way too close to the playground structures and he thunked himself on one while doing this.

I knew I couldn't leave him in charge anymore at least for a while.

Their "anxious" behaviours jacked right up.
They had to know where I was going, for how long and why, on any errand, even if they didn't want to come with me. Buddy would often take issue with how long I planned on going and if I really needed to go where I said I was going!

Monkey's princess routine is in high def and I can't stand it.
She is constantly following me or staring at me.

Neither of them speak to me like I am another human to interact with but more like I am some kind of nursemaid, constantly asking for things, outings, events, food - even in the middle of doing other things.

I am not Mom.
I am MOM? Can I/we have/do......?

So I ran away.

With my husband's blessing.

I took my two oldest children and we went out to an office supply store, a drug store ( and bought candy and dvds) then out for lunch together and finally to a bookstore.

We were gone for about three hours and it was good.
I enjoyed them so much and they were so honestly pleased and happy to spend time with just me and they didn't ask me for anything!

Sunny said, "Thanks so much for this Mom, it has been over a year since we could spend time with just you."

A year is too long to wait till we do it again.

There was an aftermath of course with Buddy and Monkey.
But at least with Buddy it was a much better one than I thought it might be.

Before I left yesterday morning, I took a few minutes to talk to the two of them about why I was leaving and that I was coming back.

I also mentioned that I though some of what was going on with them was because it was almost the year anniversary since they had moved in and that they might be feeling really sad and missing their foster parents and family.

That seemed to help Buddy a lot and he cried and talked about those things. I also realized that Canada Day was a bit of trigger for him, because he really enjoyed the small town celebrations with his foster family and it was different for him this year.

Monkey on the other hand, is a much tougher nut to crack.
She keeps score and she also keeps herself buttoned up very tightly when it comes to her emotions.
In a year, I have never heard her yell and never seen her lose her temper.
Sure I have seen her upset and angry but never out of control, not really.

Yesterday, we received a last minute invite to a summer party that a little girl she knows from church is having - and I don't think I feel like taking her most of the way across town to it.

Last night at 11pm she was playing with her beside lamp and then pretended to be asleep when Cabana Boy got up to check on what was going on and when I went in a moment later she was playing around again.

Now all I have to figure out is how to be aware of her behaviours, try and help modify them, all without giving her too much attention.

Easy peasy.
snort.

BTW I was also thinking about the "friendships" that she has and it is an eye opener to spend some time realizing that the little girls she plays with are far more like toys to be picked up and put down then people to phone and talk to and make playdates with and think about...sigh

When keeping the door open means the bugs get in

2007-07-01T06:10:00.000-07:00

Susan from My Life in a Foster Care Space Warp wrote -

"I want some written-by-an-expert dialog questions designed to give them insight into their inappropriate behavior. Why didn't anyone tell me that it would be like this?"

-about how hard open adoption can be sometimes.

(Go and check her out, if you haven't already.)

I thought I would take a whack at answering it.
Not because I fancy myself as an expert but because it is something that I think about fairly often and it also gives me something to post about.

Monkey and Buddy are now 8 and 11. They were 7 and 10 when they got to us.
During their two and 1/2 years at their foster home they had almost no contact with birth Mom, none with birth Dad, monthly dwindling to mostly none with Obie (then 11 and 12) and ongoing but not often, with Birth Grandma.

One day, shortly after they moved in, I made a short and awkward speech to the two of them about how if there was anything they wanted to know about the whys and paperwork of what happened to them and how they ended up here with us, to just ask and I would do my best to help them out with that.
They stared at me blankly, silently.

Plunging on, I somewhat weakly, added that if there was anyone they would want to see or know about, again I would do everything in my power to make that happen.
I swear they didn't blink or even breathe loudly.

I felt like a dork and cursed the dumb book I had been reading that had prompted me to do this obviously failed attempt at opening the lines of communication with them.

Until the next day when they both approached me, as serious as I had ever seen them.

"Did you mean it?" Buddy asked.
"Uh, mean what?" I asked warily.
"That stuff you said yesterday about telling us stuff we want to know?" Monkey's eyes not leaving my face.
"Yeah...yeah, of course I meant it."
"We want to see Obie." Monkey nods, briefly but vehemently.

That book, Telling the Truth to Your Adopted or Foster Child: Making Sense of the Past ,is not so dumb.

So I found Obie for them and now they get to see him.
And despite all of the heartbreak that brings, they are happier and more secure because of it.

Yesterday Buddy told me that when he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he can see that his face is changing and he looks more and more like Obie. He was so happy to have that reference, to know that he looks like someone.
I didn't realize until then, how much that would matter to him.
How he hears other people saying all the time how much his (non bio) brother and sister look like their (bio) Dad and me.

We have made the decision to allow the two of them to spend a weekend with birth Grandma.
Not something I would have imagined us doing all that long ago.

Birth Grandma is a bit of a hard pill to swallow for some of us.
Okay, my husband and two older children and I all have a hard time with her.

She treats Monkey like a princess, Buddy gets a sort of second class version of her love and attention and Sunny and Bunny are treated more like aliens she doesn't understand and therefore she doesn't acknowledge much.

And there is more...
-the woman drives me crazy, if I let her.
-she takes credit (?) for putting all her grandchildren in foster care.
-despite being young and healthy, she has refused to take any of her grandchildren into kinship care, even temporarily,
-she would rather train for and go on a religious mission to an African country than take care of them

(Why yes, I am judgemental, why do you ask?)
But sometime this summer, my husband and I will drive our two youngests 4 1/2 hours up to where she lives, drop them off with her and stay in a nearby hotel for two nights, while our older kids stay home with the dogs.

Mostly we have decided that she isn't dangerous and right now this is what Monkey and Buddy want and need. Connection with blood family members.

Recognition that they are different and have come from a different place.

We have also talked about when and if they would ever be able to see their birth Mom and birth Dad.

What we have all decided is that if either of their birth parents is ever healthy enough to be safe to see, we will do that.

Until then, we will send pictures and letters to a file folder in a government office somewhere, that birth parents can access and can also send stuff to us.

I have gotten a hold of all the pictures of birth parents and my children, before they got to me, that I can (one of the good things about birth grandma) and made copies of them for the kids to keep in their rooms - and they do.

What I am really hoping, is that by keeping this as open as is safe and as I can handle and being honest about it all - I am heading off a lot of pain and trouble when my kids are teenagers.

in the long run

2007-06-30T20:46:00.000-07:00

4 loops of the back alleys around my subdivision
sunny and breezy
13k in 1hr 50 minutes of mostly running
8:35/km
I think I could have maintained a faster pace but I kept taking frequent walk breaks to ease out the ache in my left hip, hard surfaces just aren't all that good for me.

Running with a cotton surfaced athletic top/bra is dippy. Once it gets soaked it then chafes your underarm. Sort of like having a diaper rash and I treat it like one, smearing Penaten cream on it.

Mild shin splint on my right leg. A little tender to the touch.

Sometimes, I think about trying to diet myself to a faster me but not very often - instead I think I will just keep moving :).

One of my loose toe nails - I can bend it almost completely off but it is still firmly attached at the base, was wiggly enough that it kept sawing away at the toe next to it.

Carried and consumed a litre of gatorade, 1 pk of cliff shot bloks, 2 - 300ml bottles of water.

Mentally and spiritually it was very refreshing.
Which is the most important thing about WHY I do this.

I'm slow and being fast is what is considered being good a this, but it really doesn't matter because I like doing it anyway.

Also made it out to the little independent running store in town and bought new shoes!
It was a very good experience because all though the guy who helped me (the owner) was taciturn he was quite knowledgeable, took time with me and listened to me. I feel quite pleased with the shoes, a brand I had never heard of before, Etonic.

Also picked up a trial pack of electrolyte/ salt pills and toe socks!

Someone really gets it! On Princesses and manipulation.

2007-06-30T07:24:00.000-07:00

I have just read all three of the past posts from Yondalla's blog out loud to my husband and kept interrupting myself to embrace my computer and exclaim "she gets it!!!!!"

I can't tell you how much that means.
I think the princess behaviour is so hard for me to emotionally deal with because
1) of what Yondalla says about the difficulty of HOW to modify it
and
2)how hard it is for anyone else to see how awful it is and why it should be stopped!

When Monkey first came to us, she asked me if she could be called Princess.
She had been before, that was what birth Mom, birth Dad and Birth Grandma all called her and it is how they treated her and trained her.

It is not cute to live with especially because it is very hard to find someone to vent to about it.

Some people think I am nuts when I have tried to talk about it, or even point out the behaviour. How they can fall for it all is almost beyond me, but they do and look from the little, adorable girl with the beautiful, huge, trusting eyes and think there is something really wrong with me.

But see, most of the time I have to be on guard, constantly evaluating if the little girl I am seeing right now is the real child or the fake princess one, because damn it, it is my job not to let her grow up to live a life of manipulations instead of relationships.

It can be exhausting and worse confusing because I am constantly double and triple checking myself to make sure that I have read the situation right and I am responding the right way - I don't want to become jaded and simply assume that she is the princess all the time and therefore hold her at arm's length.
She is also my child and a littlish one at that and I want to give her the love she needs too.

Here are some examples from the last few days -

*talking to her and the other kids at the dinner table about why somethings that day upset me.
When I asked if they understood what I was saying, the other three nodded or said yes but almost before I was finished speaking - Monkey made eye contact with me with her most innocent expression on her face and asked me to pass her more food. When I asked her she had even heard what I had been saying, she said, "Yeah, can I have the food?".

*when caught doing something dangerous at the playground the other day and told that she had to come play on a blanket right in front of me, she cocked her head, widened her eyes and said plaintively, "does this mean I can't even play at the playground?". There was an audience of course but I have also been at this game with her long enough to pick up on how mad she was that I was upset with her. And she stayed mad for the night and into the next morning. How dare I?

*Yesterday in the car, I hear her brother Buddy say to her, "Monkey, can't I please have the bottom bunk in the trailer when we go camping next week?". Her answer? No he can't, she wants it. I break in to ask why they thought the decision is up to Monkey any way, because usually the way it is decided is that the biggest person gets the bottom bunk because it is slightly bigger ( they are both roomy).

*The other morning I hear Buddy ask Monkey if he can use some of her hair gel, she says no.
I interrupt to tell Buddy to come into my room and I will put my gel in his hair for him and Monkey, true to form races to prevent that from happening. "No, no he can use this stuff!"
I ask her why and get her to admit that the gel in her room isn't hers, it's theirs, she has just been storing in her room instead of in their bathroom.

It is hard because Buddy is used to asking her for things or worse simply assuming that she should get first pick all the time. It can drive me crazy and it certainly doesn't help her.
Everyday things like when they go up to brush their teeth after breakfast, she will be behind him but telling him that she is going to use the bathroom first (to brush not for any other pressing reason) and he says OKAY!

Celebrating her birthday can be a bit of nightmare because the behaviour is untrammeled.
Her oldest brother gave her a present that he had thought hard about and spent his own hard earned money on - she was thrilled with the package, not so much with the actual present under the wrapping and tossed it aside without so much as an insincere thank you and started demanding (in a terribly cute way) the next gift.

I was horrified and we stopped the process right there.
She didn't get it, exactly but she tried to fake her way through it but she still wasn't impressed with the gift, an age appropriate game for her new game boy thing.
She hurt his feelings and even when it was explained to her, didn't get why she should care, there were more presents to be opened.

Sunny was embarrassed and unhappy about the whole thing.

A few months later, Monkey was chattering to me about how much she likes the game, how great it is and I reminded her of how she behaved when she got it, and she didn't like that.

Again, it is about how she feels about these things, not how other people feel and that is hard to break through.

But you know what?
She is in there.
The real flesh and blood human who needs and wants to be valued for who she really is, to learn how to talk about how she really feels.

There is a lot of pain and survival that went into becoming the Princess.

After all, sometimes when there wasn't much food or anything else, she got to eat and he brother Buddy didn't.

How is that for reinforcement?

These Shoes...

2007-06-29T20:07:00.000-07:00

Buddy found the shoes he wanted.
We talked and he agreed that it would make sense for him to pay for these shoes, I also reassured that I would happily buy him new indoor running shoes for the gym in the fall.

He also got three pair of smooth socks without "toebites" - these occur when there is a seam or other irritant inside the sock, usually in the toe box area.

Happily all was on sale and he came out happy at having gotten a "deal".

******
At one point Monkey ostentatiously announced to the family at large that she was "very happy" with her old shoes and "loved them very much".
You know, underlining what a pain her brother was, with all his carrying on about shoes.

*****
Gearing up for our camping trip that will be happening in about a week. The kids are all excited. This will be a marking of our one year anniversary together!

********

Obie called to cancel a visit because he had gotten drunk and "fell" and his face "was really messed up" and he didn't want the kids to see him "that way".

So he called them up before bedtime to tell them about it. Well he told Buddy, and he was supposed to call back and talk to Monkey a few minutes later (as she was indisposed) but never did.

Had I known he was going to tell Buddy, I would have intervened.
Here is hoping for a nightmare free night.

Fourteen years old, people, fourteen years old.

I'm not engaging.
I'm not getting involved.
I'm not reacting.
But my heart still gives a little shudder.

If you are the praying kind or could lend a thought to his well being....same story, second verse, same as the first.

Thanks.

Link to Parents that get it

2007-06-29T08:20:00.000-07:00

Wonderful and touching article about a family where the youngest child 6, is transgendered and how they are working to allow her to be herself....

Manipulation

2007-06-28T20:35:00.000-07:00

Monkey, 8, really does seem to adore her big sister Bunny, 13.

She loves to spend time with her, she looks up to her.

Sometimes you might not know that though.

Tonight, Cabana Boy and I came in from running errands, and as usual, before I am even in the door properly, Monkey starts to ask me for something.
This time it was a snack.

Okay fine, but I did ask her why she was asking me for one right now, instead of asking Bunny for something before we got home.
And yes, I was mildly irritated, because it felt like a bedtime delaying tactic - so Monkey went into deflection mode, using her patented huge-eyes-in-troubled-expression technique.

"I did ask Bunny but she said that I had already had a popsicle after dinner." It is hard to describe the way she uses her voice, if you are not used to it, you really believe that she has been hard done by. Even now, I still am sometimes halfway taken in.

Turning to Bunny, I demand to know why she did not feed this poor small child, who has already known too much deprivation.
Bunny is stunned - "uh, I did say that about the popsicle but I was just reminding her of it and then I asked her if she was hungry and she just sort of wandered away...so I didn't think it was a big deal!".

My stomach starts to churn and Monkey can see it in my face -
"Oh!" She says hurriedly, "I guess I didn't hear you Bunny! Next time I will listen more carefully!" and then she tries to slide out of the room.

This is one of the hardest things to know how to deal with when it comes to my youngest.
It takes me a while to recover from, I wish it didn't but it does.

Mostly I try to be calm and describe exactly why I am upset and be clear that she understands what I found to be wrong.

I also try and be just as clear about all of the things that she does right. Unfortunately, it is the annoying and upsetting stuff that seems to take centre stage.

Unlearning how to be manipulative will just take time.

********************

Buddy has a thing about shoes.
Last summer when they first came, I bought them both sandal type shoes and running shoes of their choice, at our local little department store.
When they wanted the trendy crocs a month later, I had them use their own money (future allowances) to buy them.
The deal here is, Mom and Dad will buy you shoes when you outgrow them or they are worn out and if you want any others, well - that is why we give out an allowance.

So in the fall, when he needed a slightly bigger size sneaker, I bought him a pair, again he was there for the choosing etc. Then in the spring, Monkey needed new sneakers, hers were actually so small they were cramping her toes up.

That is when things went a little crazy.
As soon as we hit the store to buy them, Buddy started going on about how much he needed a new pair, how worn out his shoes were.

I looked at them, they were fine, yes their was a tiny, pencil eraser size hole in the side of one, but they fit and would be great to "wear out" over the summer, I explained this and said no.

He was really unhappy and sulky at the time and then over the next weeks, I noticed he was not wearing his sneakers at all, ever, always the crocs, which aren't always that appropriate, like at church or on a chilly or wet day.

When I asked him about it, he would get sulky again and describe how horrible his shoes were and pick at the hole in the side of them as he showed them to me.

This happened a number of times but I held firm and one day he actually wore them, I think he forgot that he hated them. Later, when I asked him to take them out front to knock some dried mud from them, I think he remembered again, because I had to do an intervention, he was so violent with the darn things and he starts in on me again - they are terrible, they suck, he is never going to wear them again!

Now I lose my cool. Fine! Fine! We will just throw them out then and I do.

Now he has been down to one pair of shoes only, the crocs. Today, the strap on one broke while he was scootering and now they are no good for running in.

Tomorrow we have to figure out how to handle this.
I think he is going to have to pay for his own pair of shoes if he wants another set.
I don't think he is going to like it.

(BTW he has a very generous allowance and has a great deal of money saved in his bank account, so this is not a hardship case.)

And yes, in his past, he has had to stay with one pair of shoes for way too long and they would hurt his feet, etc. etc. so I know some of why shoes are a big deal to him but I don't think we would be helping him by buying him a pair everytime he thinks he should have a pair.
I really don't.

But I kind of want to anyway.

Cranky

2007-06-25T21:11:00.000-07:00

Despite being a bit chilly and grey, our day was actually pretty good for the kids and I.

We went to the park and met up with other families and all four of them seemed relatively content.

There was black forest birthday cake to eat, and I did, three pieces.
It was my drug of choice.
Although to be truthful I am doing better than I have been and my hive has been fairly low key. Not gone but better than it could have been.

As the afternoon wound to a close, there were only a few other parents and kids left at the playground and I had already made one trip home to drop off the two older kids, one older friend and two kids who wanted a ride to our neighborhood.

Made it back in ten minutes, thanked the Mom who watched my youngest too and headed off to make use of the nearby bathroom, just out of sight on the other side of the play structures.

There, I found my 8 year old daughter, barefoot, standing on top of one of the many tall picnic tables bolted into the concrete, preparing to leap four feet to another table.

I thought I was going to fall over.

It is important to note, that although I did raise my voice somewhat, I did NOT freak right out and shriek or anything of the nature.

Well, maybe I did, but I did it quietly and calmly, for the most part.
Something along the lines of :
"No you DON'T young lady! You come down off of there right now, put on your shoes and take your toys (she was supposed to be playing with her polly pock*et dolls with another little girl) and you go over to our blanket, that is where you are going to play now."

She was pretty startled, her eyes huge and she snapped to attention.

I checked that she understood why I was angry, oh yeah, and then ducked into the washroom.
When I came out, not two minutes later, there was Monkey asking me if I meant that she could n't play in the playground.

She had gotten over being cowed and was now mad at me for being upset with her.

Fun and not productive.

To say that she knows she isn't supposed to try crap like the table jumping is beyond understatement.

Maybe tomorrow we can try and talk our way through it.
Tonight was just a bust for anything like that.
I was too upset and her "I don't care" attitude was not going to make it any better.

The remaining time at the park was spent under my very vigilant eye (she didn't like that), then in her room till supper was ready and then to bed 45 minutes earlier than her next older brother (that was tough because they usually go at the same time).

It wasn't punishment, not really, I just had no idea how to react and needed to have her as far away from me as possible.

Jeez, that kid.

Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

2007-06-24T05:44:00.000-07:00

What is red and puffy, itchy and tender all at the same time?

My hive.

This is the second time in my life that I can remember getting a hive.
If there isn't a third, I'm okay with that.

At least this one isn't on my face, although I have to say that my upper chestal area isn't a wild improvement.

I have tried some of the leftover cortisone cream we have kicking around the house without much effect - that was when I still thought it was some freaky allergic reaction to something unknown.

Then I realized that it was bigger and less pleasant when I was more tired and stressed than usual.

Hmmmm.
Let's see in the last two weeks:

- there was my uncle's death, shock and grief
-my father's manipulative behaviours,
-the discovery that a friend has a very serious medical issue
-the reappearance of Obie
- a few incidences at my church that remind me once more that no matter how much I want it to be otherwise, that community is fallible and very short sighted when it comes to many things but in particular, the children of our congregation.
Which is of course, the area I am most heavily invested in.
- my brother's phonecall that included the information that he and his wife thought about asking me to look after their oldest daughter for a few days while they were called out of town but chose my father instead.
I live 5 kilometres away and have never used a belt on anyone, let alone a child and have never thrown my brother out onto the street at any age, let alone when he was 15.
My father lives 6 hours away, and well you can glean some of the rest.

So, hive, I understand where you have come from, but I would like you to go away now.

Lying in bed this morning thinking about it, I reminded myself that I would get to a point where I felt normal good again, it would just take some time.

Actually it was a bit like a conversation:
Me: I know it will take some time, but can't it be really short,?I'm ready to be over it now.
Me: You need to let yourself feel the pain before you can let it go.
Me: Yeah, but um, I've felt it, notice the hive? So I'm all about being done with this.
Me: Well it is healthy to not want to hang onto pain and that is a good sign - it will leave when it is ready.
Me: No, it will leave when I am ready but I get that it might not be as fast as I want.

Sigh.

Gotta go and NOT scratch it.

Life IS Good

2007-06-22T08:14:00.000-07:00

A small list of the good because otherwise it sometimes doesn't sound like I know that my life is good:

-my oldest taking his two youngest siblings to mall 5 blocks away, on foot, just cause they wanted to go and I didn't feel good.

-my older daughter making me laugh, a lot, much of the time....reading aloud to me from a book about knitting hat patterns: "Here's one!! This one looks like a pineapple! How nuts is that! (reading)* We dare you to not feel cheerful and happy while wearing this hat*" her response? a vehment "I accept that dare!"

-my younger son reaching out gently one of my calves (on my leg - this was right before a long, long race that I was going to run and I was really nervous) in his hand and saying. almost reverantly, "You have such beautiful STRONG legs Mom!". That kept me going. It really did.

-my youngest child, at eight she is better at and more conscientious and thoughtful about taking care of our pets than many adults. It is near amazing to see a kid like that deal with the may things that many pets bring, in such a matter of fact way. And she is so gentle with them.
Worried that the dogs might have gotten into chicken bones (!!!!), she monitered them all day.
Checking them for any symptoms that might mean any of them were having trouble.
All day. From breakfast to bedtime. She's only eight!

-they usually don't fight much with each other. They usually get along okay.

-they all are willing to forgive me for the mistakes I make and they love me and rally to me and I am humbled by them all the time.

-my husband is pretty good too. I said to the kids yesterday, after listening to a goofy pop song about love on the radio that one thing about their Dad is that he has never hurt me on purpose and that is a pretty good thing.

-4 dogs, a guinea pig, homeschooling, friends (online and not), health and enough abundance that we have food and good food and get to shop at Goodwill whenever we want and if we don't find what we need there we can shop at a retail store.

There is just so much and wallowing in the good really does help me when I am wallowing in the other stuff.

Obie, once again

2007-06-21T07:41:00.000-07:00

Obie is fourteen, my younger kids' brother, a ward of the government and more than a bit of a mess.

And he has reappeared in our lives once again.

He is in a halfway house for teens and we saw him two nights ago for an hour and we are still dealing with the effect that has on Buddy and Monkey.

This is where I plaintively squeak about how sometimes open adoption is hard work.

And now, now is when I give myself a good shake and talk about how much harder a closed adoption would be on my kids.

We do need to figure some stuff out though.

From a selfish point of view, having kids who lie awake at night worrying about if their brother is doing drugs or worse, is not conducive to my sleeping and that is not good at all.

If I weren't so directly involved, or didn't have a heart, it might be interesting to watch the odd interactions between the three of them.

For instance, we opted to take them to a playground for their visit because we know that they will start to rough house almost immediately.
Taking them, as a group, into a restaurant or even a donut shop is an exercise in frustration for all of us - they do not, perhaps they cannot, handle more than about ten minutes before they are jiggling and poking each other, climbing on each other...
and yeah, I do enforce my very strict rules about appropriate behaviour but that does not make for a comfortable and happy time.

Obie doesn't talk to Buddy or Monkey.
When Buddy has tried, Obie gets physical or switches all his attention to Monkey, who is still young enough to think playing non stop is great.

Which means that we are left with two very wound up kids and it takes days to unwind them.

So how to make it work?

Right now, I am thinking that Cabana Boy and I take Obie out on his own and talk to him about it and with him set up some very basic rules for visits.

It might work.
It might also trigger something in him and he will run again.

We are feeling our way along here and I just don't know.

Tough Week

2007-06-19T10:30:00.000-07:00

Usually when I have written about having had a rough go for a few days, it is because of something going on with the kids -

Not this time, it has been me.

Angry, growly, grumpy, snappish, testy - call it what you like and I probably would have answered.

Today it is better, finally better.

Why today?
I don't know for sure it just is and I am so damn grateful not to be looking into the black hole.

Sure I feel vaguely icky in a headachey, queasy kind of way, but it is such an improvement over the emotional morass that I was dabbling my toes in, that I actual welcome it.

My uncle's death did shake me up, grieving is really never anyone's idea of a good time but it was my interactions with my father that gave it all an extra hard spin.

Maybe what has helped is reading my uncle's obituary, well it was an article really, that ran in the small, small hometown newspaper:

Uncle Gawdess passed away at the hospital in faraway city.

He was born in small, small town in 1954.

He will be lovingly remembered by his siblings.

He also will be missed by many nieces and nephews.

He loved sports; he played fastball with the Tiny Town Team and umpired in the district. He also was known as a pretty good curler and a good stock car announcer, and was active in the Social Club.

He worked in smallest town and in slightly farther away small townf before moving to the faraway city in the 1980's.

He enjoyed people very much, and always had a smile and a story or a joke to tell. We all know how much Uncle Gawdess loved to sing and recite his favourite poetry.

(And my favourite line of all)

Uncle Gawdess has come home!

I don't know - I just find it hard to feel too unhappy after reading that.
Sure I cried, a lot.
But I also laughed.

How could I not?

My uncle "has come home!", complete with exclamation mark.
The local paper said so.

Ultimately for my uncle

2007-06-13T06:34:00.000-07:00

It is easy for me to forget sometimes, in the hustle of everyday life with four kids and four dogs, that building a bigger family, a newer family will inevitably involve stories of the older family.

The family that I came from.

The family that I am estranged from.

Estranged, is a word that I am used to seeing in descriptions of movies of the week in the tv guide or on the back of the book blurbs of the paperbacks that you can buy at the grocery store.

Not something that would seem to apply to ordinary me.

My Dad could not cope with my existance very well.
My Mom has said to me that she thinks he was very jealous at the amount of her attention that I took up.
I don't know about that.
I can say though, that I figured out very early that I was a wrong thing, as far as he was concerned and nothing I did seemed to change that.

As an adult I had to force myself to learn not to flinch and cry when my husband would take off his belt, that dishes could be washed in water that didn't burn my hands, that it really was okay and rational for me to not like certain foods, that it wasn't okay to stay with a boyfriend who punched me.

There are other little things that I struggle with on a daily basis.
Yelling at my kids.

No, I mean really yelling at my kids.
I can be so loud, even when I don't mean to be, I project incredibly well.
Part of me also knows that when I do it, I am being overwhelming.

Anyway, I made a choice, over the course of being a mother, slowly and painfully, that I would have very little to do with my father.

I have tried from time to time, but the games he plays are just too much for me to deal with.

An aunt "finds" me through the internet, like I am "long lost" to tell me how sad they all were that I wasn't able to make it to the big family reunion, that Dad never invited me to.

My brother tells me how devastated my father was at that Christmas when my family and I just didn't show up, of course we were never asked.

At this moment, I have an email from another aunt, sitting in my inbox, telling me how good it is of me to come to my uncle's funeral on Friday. My father told her I was coming.

I can't go. It is just not feasible, and I have told no one that I could for sure - I was hoping to be able to fly out and then drive to it with my brother but those plans changed (from his end) and it just isn't feasible for me to go.

So now, instead of just sending deeply felt condolences, I also have to send an awkward apology for not being able to attend.

I have also been sent spiraling down a rather dark hole into my past and I am really looking forward to climbing out. I hope I can.

My uncle was important to me, when I was a kid.
Not much older than be really, maybe 11 years.

He was fun and cool and nice. Happy to see me, always had a joke, willing to take me to the rural dump on treasure hunts, showing me the northern lights. The man could smile and his eyes twinkled.

He had troubles as an adult. Emotional and mental. He lived far away from me and I realized that he felt awkward around the grown up me.

But he sang me songs that his father had taught him and couldn't sing to me, the first grandchild because he had died.
And he loved a little girl who needed it.

And that little girl loved him right back.

A Year Ago Today

2007-06-09T05:59:00.000-07:00

What I wrote after meeting my youngest children for the first time:

They are beautiful, bright children.

Of course.

Buddy is quiet and somewhat reserved.
Monkey, bouncier and more outgoing.

It was a good two hours. Not too many awkward moments. We were so busy going through the album that we made for them and looking at their life books and then watching them play in the pool and getting splashed and playing catch that the two hours went by very quickly.

Monkey gravitated towards me and very much wanted all my attention and she wasn't as interested in my husband , which meant that he spent more of the time with Buddy.

At one point Monkey hugged me and said that she thought she would like living with me. Even better than where she is now. I think I surprised her when I didn't hug her back and when I told her that I thought that it would probably be pretty good most of the time but that I imagined that sometimes it wouldn't be all that good either because everyone is grumpy or unhappy some of the time.

She thought about that and then said, "Well I better get used to the idea anyway."

I thought that was pretty telling.

I mentioned already that they are beautiful children, but that doesn't capture at all how utterly gorgeous and appealing that they are.

Bright, funny and captivating.

We get to see them again on Wednesday evening and we, the adults are looking forward to it. I hope that they are too.

Here is something I didn't expect, I am a little overwhelmed at how wonderful their foster home is. Foster Dad is as nice as Foster Mom. They are retired and live on a farm, they have a heated above ground pool, a jaw droppingly beautiful playhouse in the yard and more movies on video and dvd that I could shake a stick at. I am feeling a little guilty about taking the kids away from what is obviously a wonderful and loving home.

I am grateful for it too.

The other news is that our social worker has decided to allow us to take the lead and homeschool them if we feel that is in their best interests!

It is nice to be beyond the first meeting.
It was a very special thing.

EDITED To Add:
Yondalla asked what I think of my first impressions NOW, a year later -
I guess that I am slightly surprised at how accurate they were, in some ways.
Monkey is bouncy and outgoing and uses it to hide that thick, icy, protective coating she has around her heart.
Buddy is quieter and a bit reserved in many situations and yet softer too, than I expected.

Bacchus wanted to know if it felt like time has flown by:
Yes, yes, yes!
Almost too fast at times and at others, like when I am sleep deprived, not fast enough :).
Can I believe that it has been a year since we met them?
In my heart it feels like they have been mine forever.

My husband and I are so grateful that we had the support of our social worker to homeschool them. We think that it made a HUGE difference in the time it has taken for all of us to assimilate into the family that we are today and are continuing to become.

No, I am not advocating it as a cure all for attachment woes or anything like that...it is just that for us and for our kids, it is something that works well and something that we can do.

Fourteen

2007-06-08T07:46:00.000-07:00

I am in that surreal state, I feel sort of floaty and detached when I look at the heaps of soil and clay piled up away from the trenches that have been dug around the house. Putting in weeping tile is the right thing to do, as evidenced by the standing water that we found in the bottom of one of the excavations yesterday.

Obie phoned yesterday.

He sounded ...rough.

"Where are you?" I asked and quickly amended it with "if you can tell me."

He named a place that I a familiar with because a relative worked with that agency for a number of years.

My heart sank.
Funny I didn't think it could have gone any lower.

Did I mention that the motel that the government had put him in originally was a John motel?
Yeah, I know I did.

From what Birth Grandma told me, Obie had been taken under the wing of one of the young prostitutes who lived there and she turned him onto a supplier of, well, harder substances, and that was the beginning of this particular descent into Hell.

I can speculate about what that ride down looked like.
I don't want to go there though.

Fourteen.

I want to save him.

I KNOW. Okay?
I do know that I can't.
That it isn't about me and that I have to focus on the children that I have at home and everything else that is sane and intelligent.

But I want to anyway even when I know that it isn't up to me.

Just so you know.

But I want to make it easier for him and kids like him not to be victimized by their own governments.

That much I can do.
That much is up to me.
It is up to all of us.

Fourteen.

going BANANAs BREAD

2007-06-05T21:03:00.000-07:00

Here's one that takes the cake, or to be more topically correct, the loaf:

Today at lunch -in front or our sleep over guest - my youngest daughter Monkey, wrinkled her nose at the small chunk of chocolate banana bread on her plate and asked if she could give it to someone else because -
she doesn't like banana bread.

So what?
I can hear you thinking that to yourselves, I really can.

This is the same banana bread that she insisted had to be baked for Dad, the evening before his birthday.
The stinking hot evening.
So hot that I felt too sick to eat.
So hot that I asked her if we could do it another time because I didn't want to turn on the oven in the house and instead of answering me, she simply turned her huge, pain filled eyes on me and quivered her lower lip.

Which of course means that I did it.
Even though I was really unhappy and grumpy and I shouldn't have.

Anyway, she has never, ever indicated that she doesn't like the substance before.
And it has been a subject of discussion because neither of my older two kids like banana anything (except Bunny who inexplicably loves the fruit itself) and we found it interesting to find that the younger too did like the stuff.
A lot.
Or so I thought.

I don't know what expression was on my face, probably a cross between utterly flabbergasted and intense frustration - but she began to talk at top speed -
"I made the banana bread for Dad!!!!! He likes it!!!!"

I had to send her to her room, just until I got over the urge to freak right out.
Even though we had company.

I also had to check with her brothers and sisters to ensure that I wasn't hallucinating about the "she has said that she likes banana bread before right?".

After they vindicated me, I managed to go upstairs and talk to her.
(Calmly, Yondalla, aren't I great? And I diffused the situation too and I didn't yell for my own rush.)

This isn't the first time.
It won't be the last time.

I don't think it was a coincidence that our guest is a member of the family that was there in our car at Easter when Monkey decided to talk about how much she hates swimming and is afraid of going in the water.
I kind of wish that she had remembered that all the times that she made me crazy about wanting to go to the pool! Can't we go to the pool? You said that we could........

The weirdest things push my buttons these days.
I honestly never thought banana bread would be one of them.