Mom did show up at the courthouse. She did not, of course, sign the voluntary termination paperwork. This does not surprise anyone involved. It did, however, tick a whole bunch of people off, including the judge. None of this, of course, is Mom's fault. It is the social worker's fault, the judge's fault, her lawyer's fault, her tribal representive's fault, etc. She demanded everyone be replaced and that she get better services. She has, of course, had every opportunity for every kind of service available to her from the state and from the tribe. She has yet to follow through on any apect of any one of her service plans throughout the years. Most certainly she has not complied with the service plan that was created to give her every opportunity to get her life together and regain custody of the boys.
The termination will continue and visitations with the boys are no longer going to happen. Mom will, however, have a month's worth of counseling (per her request for more help) and she can write letters to the boys that she will send to the social worker who will then pass them on to us.
As for the haircuts, I assure all of you that if her refusal to let the boys' hair be cut was a cultural one, I would be more than happy to take care of their hair, put it in braids, or maintain it in whatever traditional hair style was requested. The issue is not that their hair is particularily long, it is that their hair is long in some places and chopped short in others. Random places, mind you, not in any sort of style but rather as if someone (i.e. mom) clipped random locks of hair off as the boys ran (or rather tottered) by here while she sat at the kitchen table. Mom is not against haircuts for cultural reasons, but for bizarre control reasons- keep in mind that mom is decidedly not mentally healthy and has a real penchant for making up bizarre stories to garner attention and pity. She is convinced that nothing is wrong with the boys, that this is all the state and the tribe's fault. haircuts are one of the few areas of control she has over the boys' lives at this point and she is not going to budge one inch on that issue.
In other news, Hoss is really getting a hang of potty training and M&M's are a great motivator for him. He is also walking around the house singing "the Muffin Man" song and running up to us at random moments for hugs and declaring that "I happy." He has not bitten in while. [although he did pitch a collosal fit over a toy the other day, threw himself on the floor, and when I tried to step over him grabbed at my leg and then pushed me so that I fell into the wall, onto the floor, and tore my bad knee up something fierce. causing R to miss a day of work to take me to the doctor and to get xrays and my mother to come over to sit with the boys..ouch. ouch. and ouch.]
Little Joe is doing fine. Still no language and a lot of temper tantrums over seemingly NOTHING, but he is seeking out positive attention and cuddles from both of us and is starting to use some basic sign as opposed to screaming his head off when he wants/needs something. He was not at all bothered by the drama involved in my knee injury, he thought it was grand excitement and, upon my falling to the floor climbed up on my bad knee and, in Little Jo-ese, said "Giddy up." No way, cowboy. No giddy ups. No giddy ups ever again, if this knee doesn't stop hurting.
Let's hope that surgery is not in the cards, as I have no idea how I will do that and take care of these two kiddos. Not that I am doing that great of a job right now, limping around here with a swollen knee. ha.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Good Grief
Hoss and Little Joe need haircuts. Badly.
It is going to take a miracle for that to happen.
I can change their diapers, bathe them, dress them, feed them, take them to the doctor, register them for daycare or school (Hoss will start a special education program in the fall), clip their fingernails and toenails, and brush their teeth. In fact, I am expected to do these things.
I cannot, however, cut their hair without birth mom's permission.
Which, past events have shown, is highly unlikely (read: when hell freezes over) to happen.
She apparently has a real issue with the boys' having their haircut. As in, she doesn't want their hair cut. Ever.
Unless she does it. mental image: boys with hair that looks like someone went mad with a pair of rusty hedge clippers.
Today the social worker called to tell me that the termination petition has been filed.
I am ashamed to admit that one of my first thoughts was this: "does this mean I can get their hair cut?"
Bigger news: mom has made a court date for tomorrow afternoon to voluntarily sign away her parental rights to both boys.
Will she show up? That is anybody's guess.
I will keep you all posted.
*** forgot to mention this. Hoss is working very hard to understand the concept of names. He still cannot answer the question "what is your name?" But he does ask it of us. repeatedly. At least, I think that is what he is asking us. We are both hoping that the speech therapy he will get in school will help him in this area. Poor kid, 3 years old, and can't tell you his name if you ask it. He can say his name, if you prompt him. but the question "What is your name?" throws him completely. He can, however, say with perfect clarity "Holy Shit." Go figure. Little Joe, on the other hand, says only "no no no" and "uhuh". He does, however, do a great imiation of a dog growl and will, if you aren't watching him carefully, crawl on his hands and knees to the dog bowl and eat out of it by bending his mouth down into the dish and grabbing at nuggets with his teeth. Gross. Very gross. I am trying to be postive about it and see it as a sign of imaginative play. Let's hope his early on intervention teacher sees it the same way.
It is going to take a miracle for that to happen.
I can change their diapers, bathe them, dress them, feed them, take them to the doctor, register them for daycare or school (Hoss will start a special education program in the fall), clip their fingernails and toenails, and brush their teeth. In fact, I am expected to do these things.
I cannot, however, cut their hair without birth mom's permission.
Which, past events have shown, is highly unlikely (read: when hell freezes over) to happen.
She apparently has a real issue with the boys' having their haircut. As in, she doesn't want their hair cut. Ever.
Unless she does it. mental image: boys with hair that looks like someone went mad with a pair of rusty hedge clippers.
Today the social worker called to tell me that the termination petition has been filed.
I am ashamed to admit that one of my first thoughts was this: "does this mean I can get their hair cut?"
Bigger news: mom has made a court date for tomorrow afternoon to voluntarily sign away her parental rights to both boys.
Will she show up? That is anybody's guess.
I will keep you all posted.
*** forgot to mention this. Hoss is working very hard to understand the concept of names. He still cannot answer the question "what is your name?" But he does ask it of us. repeatedly. At least, I think that is what he is asking us. We are both hoping that the speech therapy he will get in school will help him in this area. Poor kid, 3 years old, and can't tell you his name if you ask it. He can say his name, if you prompt him. but the question "What is your name?" throws him completely. He can, however, say with perfect clarity "Holy Shit." Go figure. Little Joe, on the other hand, says only "no no no" and "uhuh". He does, however, do a great imiation of a dog growl and will, if you aren't watching him carefully, crawl on his hands and knees to the dog bowl and eat out of it by bending his mouth down into the dish and grabbing at nuggets with his teeth. Gross. Very gross. I am trying to be postive about it and see it as a sign of imaginative play. Let's hope his early on intervention teacher sees it the same way.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
The Best of Times, The Worst of Times
I think I am going to build a shrine to our 3 year old foster son's kindergarten readiness teacher. She was here yesterday for a visit with Hoss and, since I looked like I had been run over with a mack truck (read: sleep deprivation, in desperate need of a shower, and ready to collapse) she offered to provide respite for us (read: take the boys for a whole entire day). This morning, I got the boys dressed and R put them in the car and took them to the teacher's house. I have been kid free since 7:45 this morning!!! The first thing I did was crawl back into bed and slept for a few hours. Now I am actually online during the day, finally able to check email and post on this blog (forgive me, KelleyO and other friends who have been worried that I have not posted in awhile). The house is quiet, I have adult tv on (CNN), and the dogs are clearly enjoying the one on one time with me. I should clean house, do laundry, and run to the grocery store. But I am going to be utterly and unashamedly selfish and lounge around today.
I am sure that you are all wondering how things are going with Hoss and Little Joe. Slowly, ever so slowly, we are all settling in to a routine and are starting to see some real improvements in both boys' behavior and mood. Hoss, who only repeated words if you said them first, is exploding with independent speech (not very intelligble, but I am getting better at interpreting): he is using 3 and 4 word sentences, asking "what happened?", and, on a few occasions, expressing emotions (yesterday he said "I happy" at the dinner table. I about cried it was so wonderful to hear!). Hoss' s temper tantrums have lessened in intensity and decreased in frequency- partly due to the passage of time and his own "settling" in, partly due to the fact that R and I are almost militant in our conistency in terms of enforcing rules. After two weeks of going insane with all the toys that have buttons and batteries- both boys are more than content to sit and self-stim on an electronic toy for hours, not using the toy appropriately, but simply pressing the same button over and over and over and over and OVER again- R and I put away all toys save for classic toys: wooden blocks, puzzles, hotwheels, shape sorters, a soft baby doll, books, wooden train set, soccer ball, tricycle, big wheel, etc. Now we are seeing some imagintive play from Hoss: pretending to take his book bag with puzzles in it somewhere (he says "bye", walks down the hallway, comes back and says "Hi" then 'leaves' again); He takes his plastic set of keys and walks up and down the hallway 'locking' closet doors and bedroom doors, he holds his baby doll and sings songs to it (then throws it on the floor and kicks it, tries to suffocate it, and slaps it- acting out previous abuse maybe? who knows). Little Joe is taking the loss of the electronic toys the hardest and tries his best to spend the day playing with remote controls, lights, light switches, the dishwasher, the baby gates etc. Supposedly the easiest child of the two, Little Joe has become the most challenging in many ways. Hopefully in time he, too, will begin to play with toys and stop trying to escape into the world of self stimming. He has great eye contact, is seeking out hugs and cuddles- the curent assessment is that he is not autistic, but rather his self stimming (and Hoss's too, for that matter, although he is not nearly as 'addicted' to such behaviors as Little Joe) is a result of the neglect in his original home.
This is by far the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. I feel woefully inadequate and have lost my temper (yelling at the boys) more than once in the past 3.5 weeks. Not good. Luckily, both boys have a great team of people working on their behalf and helping us find ways to better parent and teach them. Still, I wish I knew more, had more patience, needed less sleep, and had more energy than I have. These two guys are non stop motion and cannot be left alone for even a minute: every time I need to go the bathroom during the day I cringe, for allways, allways, allways, either Hoss hurts Little Joe, Little Joe climbs and falls trying to get to a light switch or the telephone, or both boys mess with the fan in the hallway (now behind a babygate so they can't reach it), the nightlight on the dresser in their room (confiscated as of yesterday), the locks on the doors to the outside and the basement, or trying to climb over the baby gates that block off the kitchen so they can get to the dishwasher, the fridge, or the drawers holding silverware.
I have had emails from a few of you asking what this means for our Vietnam adoption. The short answer is "I really don't know." I think I knew when we agreed to do this that we might be making a decision that will radically change our family plans. it is impossible to not grow attached to these two little guys, despite all of their delays and challenges (or perhaps it is because of those delays and challenges). CHI told us that we could foster up until the point that our paperwork needed to be sent to Vietnam. I have no idea when that will be. What I do know is that R and I are going to have a very hard time (read: moral dilemma) if Hoss and Little Joe are still with us at the time we get the call to work on our dossier. How do we justify putting these two guys through yet another destablizing move, so that we can send paperwork to Vietnam to adopt another child- a child who is needy as well, to be sure (albiet in different ways and for different reasons), but still a child who, if we do not adopt him, has easily 100 potential parents who are after us on the "big waiting list"?
R and I are no where near ready to say we are giving up on our Vietnam adoption. Nor are we anywhere close to deciding we are a permanent placement for Hoss and Little Joe ( while it is very unlikely that the boys will be returned to their mother's care, both boys are native american and so there are federal and tribal laws and agencies involved in the "where do the boys go after parental rights termination" question). Honestly, we are taking this one day, sometimes one minute, at a time. We are, however, becoming increasingly aware of the number of infants and toddlers that are entering into the foster care system, and have been told about a few infants who will most likely be available for adoption through the foster care system very soon.
I really do not know what to think or feel at this point. This is clearly not part of the "big plan" that we have been working so hard to bring to fruition for the last few years.
What have I gotten myself into?
*** cute story, as I don't want to end on a gloomy note. The other day Hoss melted down over not being allowed to have pop (which I never let him have anyway, but he keeps trying). he threw himself on the floor, kicked and cried for about half a minute, but when he noticed that I was ignoring him, he got up off the floor, grabbed my hands and said "wanna dance?"
I am sure that you are all wondering how things are going with Hoss and Little Joe. Slowly, ever so slowly, we are all settling in to a routine and are starting to see some real improvements in both boys' behavior and mood. Hoss, who only repeated words if you said them first, is exploding with independent speech (not very intelligble, but I am getting better at interpreting): he is using 3 and 4 word sentences, asking "what happened?", and, on a few occasions, expressing emotions (yesterday he said "I happy" at the dinner table. I about cried it was so wonderful to hear!). Hoss' s temper tantrums have lessened in intensity and decreased in frequency- partly due to the passage of time and his own "settling" in, partly due to the fact that R and I are almost militant in our conistency in terms of enforcing rules. After two weeks of going insane with all the toys that have buttons and batteries- both boys are more than content to sit and self-stim on an electronic toy for hours, not using the toy appropriately, but simply pressing the same button over and over and over and over and OVER again- R and I put away all toys save for classic toys: wooden blocks, puzzles, hotwheels, shape sorters, a soft baby doll, books, wooden train set, soccer ball, tricycle, big wheel, etc. Now we are seeing some imagintive play from Hoss: pretending to take his book bag with puzzles in it somewhere (he says "bye", walks down the hallway, comes back and says "Hi" then 'leaves' again); He takes his plastic set of keys and walks up and down the hallway 'locking' closet doors and bedroom doors, he holds his baby doll and sings songs to it (then throws it on the floor and kicks it, tries to suffocate it, and slaps it- acting out previous abuse maybe? who knows). Little Joe is taking the loss of the electronic toys the hardest and tries his best to spend the day playing with remote controls, lights, light switches, the dishwasher, the baby gates etc. Supposedly the easiest child of the two, Little Joe has become the most challenging in many ways. Hopefully in time he, too, will begin to play with toys and stop trying to escape into the world of self stimming. He has great eye contact, is seeking out hugs and cuddles- the curent assessment is that he is not autistic, but rather his self stimming (and Hoss's too, for that matter, although he is not nearly as 'addicted' to such behaviors as Little Joe) is a result of the neglect in his original home.
This is by far the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. I feel woefully inadequate and have lost my temper (yelling at the boys) more than once in the past 3.5 weeks. Not good. Luckily, both boys have a great team of people working on their behalf and helping us find ways to better parent and teach them. Still, I wish I knew more, had more patience, needed less sleep, and had more energy than I have. These two guys are non stop motion and cannot be left alone for even a minute: every time I need to go the bathroom during the day I cringe, for allways, allways, allways, either Hoss hurts Little Joe, Little Joe climbs and falls trying to get to a light switch or the telephone, or both boys mess with the fan in the hallway (now behind a babygate so they can't reach it), the nightlight on the dresser in their room (confiscated as of yesterday), the locks on the doors to the outside and the basement, or trying to climb over the baby gates that block off the kitchen so they can get to the dishwasher, the fridge, or the drawers holding silverware.
I have had emails from a few of you asking what this means for our Vietnam adoption. The short answer is "I really don't know." I think I knew when we agreed to do this that we might be making a decision that will radically change our family plans. it is impossible to not grow attached to these two little guys, despite all of their delays and challenges (or perhaps it is because of those delays and challenges). CHI told us that we could foster up until the point that our paperwork needed to be sent to Vietnam. I have no idea when that will be. What I do know is that R and I are going to have a very hard time (read: moral dilemma) if Hoss and Little Joe are still with us at the time we get the call to work on our dossier. How do we justify putting these two guys through yet another destablizing move, so that we can send paperwork to Vietnam to adopt another child- a child who is needy as well, to be sure (albiet in different ways and for different reasons), but still a child who, if we do not adopt him, has easily 100 potential parents who are after us on the "big waiting list"?
R and I are no where near ready to say we are giving up on our Vietnam adoption. Nor are we anywhere close to deciding we are a permanent placement for Hoss and Little Joe ( while it is very unlikely that the boys will be returned to their mother's care, both boys are native american and so there are federal and tribal laws and agencies involved in the "where do the boys go after parental rights termination" question). Honestly, we are taking this one day, sometimes one minute, at a time. We are, however, becoming increasingly aware of the number of infants and toddlers that are entering into the foster care system, and have been told about a few infants who will most likely be available for adoption through the foster care system very soon.
I really do not know what to think or feel at this point. This is clearly not part of the "big plan" that we have been working so hard to bring to fruition for the last few years.
What have I gotten myself into?
*** cute story, as I don't want to end on a gloomy note. The other day Hoss melted down over not being allowed to have pop (which I never let him have anyway, but he keeps trying). he threw himself on the floor, kicked and cried for about half a minute, but when he noticed that I was ignoring him, he got up off the floor, grabbed my hands and said "wanna dance?"
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Have you ever been so tired that you cried?
I wanted to get on tonight and blog about all the highs and (many) lows of our days with Hoss and Little Joe. I especially wanted input and advice from those of you who have kids at home about some of the issues we are having. Truthfully, it is hard to know what is abuse/neglect related, what is developmental delay related (which is also, probably, caused by the abuse/neglect) and what is typical toddler boy behavior.
but I am so freakin tired I am crying.
hang in there with me, my friends. Maybe tomorrow will be easier. Or maybe I will drink more coffee. or Pepsi. anything it takes to write a proper blog entry.
I have Hoss' case worker coming tomorrow so we can get a behavioral assessment set up and start getting a plan in place to help him (and us) have a happier, "nuclear meltdown marathon" free life.
Keep us in your thoughts and prayers.
it has to get better, right?
but I am so freakin tired I am crying.
hang in there with me, my friends. Maybe tomorrow will be easier. Or maybe I will drink more coffee. or Pepsi. anything it takes to write a proper blog entry.
I have Hoss' case worker coming tomorrow so we can get a behavioral assessment set up and start getting a plan in place to help him (and us) have a happier, "nuclear meltdown marathon" free life.
Keep us in your thoughts and prayers.
it has to get better, right?
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Raging Little Cowboys
I know that everyone has been waiting for an update from us, so I apologize for taking so long to post. We have had the little guys since Sunday afternoon, and it has been one wild rodeo, to be sure! These poor little guys have been through so much neglect and abuse (not to mention five placments since march) that they require all of our time and attention. Of course, Robert gets to go to work during the day, so the bulk of it falls on me. I am exhausted, as you can guess. But slowly the boys are calming down: today was the first day I had where I could get on the computer (it has been stashed above the tv cabinet, as have many things that are breakable) and check email. So far nothing has been broken, but we have had almost endless rages- seems like when one finally stops raging, the other starts!
"Hoss" is the size of a four year old, but just turned 3 in May! He has serious developmental delays, so his overall functioning as at a 20 month old level. He has a real fascination with doors- so we immediately put chain locks on all the egress doors and the door to the basement. This, of course, did not please him at all. Most of Monday and Tuesday was spent having meltdown rages over not being able to open the doors and run for the hills. Today he is doing better - no he tries the door, says "no no stop" and then shuts the door again (the chain only lets him open it a little bit). We are working on his language, and getting him outside to run and play- hopefully that will help his gross motor skills. he rages big time at night (a "I'm terrifed" rage as oppposed to his "I am ticked I can't get what I want" rages), but R has been great at getting him calmed down: reading to him, rubbing his back, and restraining him from hurting himself or R (Hoss is a biter, kicker, pincher kid). The first two nights it took 45 minutes to get him to sleep, the last two nights it has taken 15 and 10 minutes respectively. He wakes up a few times a night, comes to check to see if we are still here, and then goes back to bed.
"Little Joe", 20 months old, is as withdrawn as Hoss is outgoing. He has his rages, to be sure, but they are usually over his frustration at not being able to play with the stove, dishwasher, phone, or remote control (he is napping right now, otherwise I would never be able to type this). he is also a little spider monkey- climbs on everthing. So far he has tipped the rocking chair over by climbing up on it, has gotten on the kitchen table, the back of the couch, and this morning tried to climb out of his crib and hit the floor hard- not a great way to wake up! he can be a cuddle blug at times, but mostly he prefers to entertain himself by going back and forth on a ride on toy, screwing caps on and off of plastic bottles, or pressing buttons on a couple of interactive toys we have. Little Joe is 9 months behind on his development, has some tightness in his legs, has very little language (although Hoss is much further behind in his language than Little Joe is- Hoss' speach is mostly intelligble, and when he does use "real" words he uses one word and two word sentences).
Both boys will have intensive therapy- speach, physical, play, etc. We also have a developmental screening set up for both boys next month- on different days unforunately, how I am supposed to handle both of them for 4 hour long screenings I have no idea! Hoss will start a special ed program in the fall- 5 days a week, 2.5 hours a day. Little Joe will have an early on intervention progam starting in a few weeks.
How all this happened is a bit of a wild story. On Monday I received a phone call from a cousin I have not seen or talked to in about 2 years. She is a social worker and works with a private angency that contracts with the state. She said she has been wracking her brains trying to find a placement for these two special needs boys and my name kept popping up in her head. Finally she said, she tracked my phone number down and called me. My initial reaction was to say, sorry, we are not interested. However, she is my cousin, so I let her have her say. Somehow in the course of the conversation I had this feeling that maybe R and I could do this- these boys needed somebody who could give them a lot of love and attention, and I am home all day by myself. I told her I would talk to R and call her back.
I talked to R via phone, expecting him to flat out refuse, but he said we should talk about it. I emailed CHI and asked if there would be a problem if we became foster parents and received a reply saying that we could foster right up until the point where we have to send our paperwork to vietnam. Given that the referrals are moving so slowly (and I mean so so slowly), we figured we might as well use this time of waiting to do something positive. Besides, it gives us a chance to have a couple of little boys in the house!!
Long story short (I hear Little Joe waking up in there, and I want to get him before he tries to climb out again!), the social worker who does licensing came in off of her vacation to meet with us and go over the tons of paperwork and info on foster parenting etc. Luckily she was able to use our homestudy (thank God it has been good for something) and our medical and police clearances from our Vietnam adoption. We spent the next few days hunting down a toddler bed, clothes, diapers, sippy cups, etc and on Sunday afternoon the boys came!!!
more later, Little Joe is definitely up, the phone is ringing, and Hoss just barrelled down the hallway with the remote control........boy do I need coffee!!!!!
"Hoss" is the size of a four year old, but just turned 3 in May! He has serious developmental delays, so his overall functioning as at a 20 month old level. He has a real fascination with doors- so we immediately put chain locks on all the egress doors and the door to the basement. This, of course, did not please him at all. Most of Monday and Tuesday was spent having meltdown rages over not being able to open the doors and run for the hills. Today he is doing better - no he tries the door, says "no no stop" and then shuts the door again (the chain only lets him open it a little bit). We are working on his language, and getting him outside to run and play- hopefully that will help his gross motor skills. he rages big time at night (a "I'm terrifed" rage as oppposed to his "I am ticked I can't get what I want" rages), but R has been great at getting him calmed down: reading to him, rubbing his back, and restraining him from hurting himself or R (Hoss is a biter, kicker, pincher kid). The first two nights it took 45 minutes to get him to sleep, the last two nights it has taken 15 and 10 minutes respectively. He wakes up a few times a night, comes to check to see if we are still here, and then goes back to bed.
"Little Joe", 20 months old, is as withdrawn as Hoss is outgoing. He has his rages, to be sure, but they are usually over his frustration at not being able to play with the stove, dishwasher, phone, or remote control (he is napping right now, otherwise I would never be able to type this). he is also a little spider monkey- climbs on everthing. So far he has tipped the rocking chair over by climbing up on it, has gotten on the kitchen table, the back of the couch, and this morning tried to climb out of his crib and hit the floor hard- not a great way to wake up! he can be a cuddle blug at times, but mostly he prefers to entertain himself by going back and forth on a ride on toy, screwing caps on and off of plastic bottles, or pressing buttons on a couple of interactive toys we have. Little Joe is 9 months behind on his development, has some tightness in his legs, has very little language (although Hoss is much further behind in his language than Little Joe is- Hoss' speach is mostly intelligble, and when he does use "real" words he uses one word and two word sentences).
Both boys will have intensive therapy- speach, physical, play, etc. We also have a developmental screening set up for both boys next month- on different days unforunately, how I am supposed to handle both of them for 4 hour long screenings I have no idea! Hoss will start a special ed program in the fall- 5 days a week, 2.5 hours a day. Little Joe will have an early on intervention progam starting in a few weeks.
How all this happened is a bit of a wild story. On Monday I received a phone call from a cousin I have not seen or talked to in about 2 years. She is a social worker and works with a private angency that contracts with the state. She said she has been wracking her brains trying to find a placement for these two special needs boys and my name kept popping up in her head. Finally she said, she tracked my phone number down and called me. My initial reaction was to say, sorry, we are not interested. However, she is my cousin, so I let her have her say. Somehow in the course of the conversation I had this feeling that maybe R and I could do this- these boys needed somebody who could give them a lot of love and attention, and I am home all day by myself. I told her I would talk to R and call her back.
I talked to R via phone, expecting him to flat out refuse, but he said we should talk about it. I emailed CHI and asked if there would be a problem if we became foster parents and received a reply saying that we could foster right up until the point where we have to send our paperwork to vietnam. Given that the referrals are moving so slowly (and I mean so so slowly), we figured we might as well use this time of waiting to do something positive. Besides, it gives us a chance to have a couple of little boys in the house!!
Long story short (I hear Little Joe waking up in there, and I want to get him before he tries to climb out again!), the social worker who does licensing came in off of her vacation to meet with us and go over the tons of paperwork and info on foster parenting etc. Luckily she was able to use our homestudy (thank God it has been good for something) and our medical and police clearances from our Vietnam adoption. We spent the next few days hunting down a toddler bed, clothes, diapers, sippy cups, etc and on Sunday afternoon the boys came!!!
more later, Little Joe is definitely up, the phone is ringing, and Hoss just barrelled down the hallway with the remote control........boy do I need coffee!!!!!
Friday, July 06, 2007
Breaking News
On Sunday afternoon, R and I will become the foster parents to two little boys- "Hoss" age 3 and "Little Joe" age 18 months.
It is a long story; I promise to find some time between trying to get everything we need together before Sunday to tell the whole story (or, at least, as much of the story as I can tell without breaking confidentiality).
The pressing questions of the day is:
1. Goldfish crackers or regular crackers?
2. Cheerios or Kix?
3. What toys are best for fine and gross motor development?
4. What activities (other than reading, which we will surely do) will help verbal development?
5. Is basic sign language a good idea for a child with expressive language difficulties?
Oh, and inquiring minds want to know: How the heck does one take a shower with a 3 year old and an 18 month old in the house?
*** btw, in case it wasn't glaringly obvious, Hoss and Little Joe are not their real names. They are brothers, and the older boy is a pretty big kid (tall, solid) and the 18 month old is smaller built: hence, the names. Which don't make much sense if you didn't watch Bonanza on the Family Channel in the 80s (or the original episodes in the 60-70s). For those of you in the south, I usuallly thing of the boys as "The Bubbas."
**** we haven't met "The Bubbas" yet. We will meet them on Sunday when they move in. Honestly, this has happened super fast and I promise I was not holding back information from you all. I received a phone call on Monday afternoon that started a chain of events that have lead up to the boys coming. More about that in my next post.
It is a long story; I promise to find some time between trying to get everything we need together before Sunday to tell the whole story (or, at least, as much of the story as I can tell without breaking confidentiality).
The pressing questions of the day is:
1. Goldfish crackers or regular crackers?
2. Cheerios or Kix?
3. What toys are best for fine and gross motor development?
4. What activities (other than reading, which we will surely do) will help verbal development?
5. Is basic sign language a good idea for a child with expressive language difficulties?
Oh, and inquiring minds want to know: How the heck does one take a shower with a 3 year old and an 18 month old in the house?
*** btw, in case it wasn't glaringly obvious, Hoss and Little Joe are not their real names. They are brothers, and the older boy is a pretty big kid (tall, solid) and the 18 month old is smaller built: hence, the names. Which don't make much sense if you didn't watch Bonanza on the Family Channel in the 80s (or the original episodes in the 60-70s). For those of you in the south, I usuallly thing of the boys as "The Bubbas."
**** we haven't met "The Bubbas" yet. We will meet them on Sunday when they move in. Honestly, this has happened super fast and I promise I was not holding back information from you all. I received a phone call on Monday afternoon that started a chain of events that have lead up to the boys coming. More about that in my next post.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Back to our regularly scheduled program
Slowly, very slowly, I am slogging my way through the grief process and trying to resurrect something that resembles my "normal" life. I do, sadly, have one more funeral to attend this week (the 16 year old son of a friend and fellow board member of our local community group passed away the other day), but I am so numb at this point to loss that it has wierdly become a "normal" thing to attend funerals lately. Not that I do not feel sadness for each of these losses; more so that they have all swirled together into one gigantic event so that it is hard to differentiate who I am mourning at any given daily experience of grief. Sometimes it is my own grief over the immediate losses (Fran and Jim); other times it is my grief for friends who have lost (D, J, and now K in the loss of her son/N in the loss of her older brother).
Anyway, as the post title says "Back to our regularly scheduled program." In my attempt to "fake it till you make it" in regards to a normal life, I have, finally, after a few months of ignoring the project all together, tackled the baby's room. My wonderful niece, A, stayed over recently and we spent the day putting the room together (earlier A's younger brother, also an "A" name, put the crib together, but that was the sum total of what I have done in the room since we moved here). There are still a few things left to be done - hang the pictures on the wall, for example- but for the most part it is looking pretty darn good.
The problem I have encountered is this- the new room is much larger than the room we had in our previous home. Hence, we have a lot more open space. Now, one could argue that open space is nice and does not demand that we fill it up with more stuff. However, I have a compulsive need to fill up open space, so I find myself thinking of things we do not have in that room that we might could NEED in that room, now that we have more space.
I have come up with 2 things that I have convinced myself that are must haves for the baby's room:
1. toy box (now we have a cheapo wooden toy box in there right now, but it must go. for one thing, it is ugly. for another thing, well, it is ugly)
2. book case
I am wavering between purchasing a sturdy plastic "Little Tykes" style toy box (say Thomas the Tank Engine, or something along those lines- primary colors to match the "moon doggie" crib bedding set and accessories we allready have), or a classic wooden toy box painted primary colors to match the rest of the room.
As for the bookcase, I am debating between a classic wooden bookcase painted primary colors (again, to match the rest of the room), or one of those wooden/canvas type book holders (commonly seen in preschool class rooms).
So, my question to those of you out there with much better decorating skills than I is this: what have you used for toy storage and book storage in your baby (ies) rooms?
Anyway, as the post title says "Back to our regularly scheduled program." In my attempt to "fake it till you make it" in regards to a normal life, I have, finally, after a few months of ignoring the project all together, tackled the baby's room. My wonderful niece, A, stayed over recently and we spent the day putting the room together (earlier A's younger brother, also an "A" name, put the crib together, but that was the sum total of what I have done in the room since we moved here). There are still a few things left to be done - hang the pictures on the wall, for example- but for the most part it is looking pretty darn good.
The problem I have encountered is this- the new room is much larger than the room we had in our previous home. Hence, we have a lot more open space. Now, one could argue that open space is nice and does not demand that we fill it up with more stuff. However, I have a compulsive need to fill up open space, so I find myself thinking of things we do not have in that room that we might could NEED in that room, now that we have more space.
I have come up with 2 things that I have convinced myself that are must haves for the baby's room:
1. toy box (now we have a cheapo wooden toy box in there right now, but it must go. for one thing, it is ugly. for another thing, well, it is ugly)
2. book case
I am wavering between purchasing a sturdy plastic "Little Tykes" style toy box (say Thomas the Tank Engine, or something along those lines- primary colors to match the "moon doggie" crib bedding set and accessories we allready have), or a classic wooden toy box painted primary colors to match the rest of the room.
As for the bookcase, I am debating between a classic wooden bookcase painted primary colors (again, to match the rest of the room), or one of those wooden/canvas type book holders (commonly seen in preschool class rooms).
So, my question to those of you out there with much better decorating skills than I is this: what have you used for toy storage and book storage in your baby (ies) rooms?
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Sad News
I had hoped that after my last post, I would come back to my blog with adoption related "good news" to report: moving up on the referral list, say, or at the very least news that new referrals are expected soon. Unfortunately, I have no such news to share.
It is with great sadness that I come to you, my readers, requesting further prayers and well wishes for my friend J, whose mother in law passed away Saturday afternoon, and my best friend, D, whose mother lost her battle with cancer Saturday evening.
J's mother-in-law's funeral will be out of state, but I will be attending D's mother's funeral this afternoon.
While both J and D are very dear friends of mine; D is especially close to my heart. D and I have been friends for many years now, having met while we were both students at the local university. Our friendship remained strong despite my move to Alabama, and her more recent move to Texas to work on her Ph.D. D was there for me in many big ways when my father lost his own battle against cancer in August of 2004- graciously staying at my parents' home to take care of their cat and my two dogs so that I could be at the hospital during my father's last days.
I am heartbroken for D; I will never forget her phone call a few weeks ago when she told me that the cancer was back and her mother had only a few weeks to live. "I thought I understood what you were going through when your dad died, but I had no idea. I never wanted to be a member of this club with you"
Oh D, honey, I never wanted you to be a member of this club either. I hope that someday you will find comfort in the knowledge that you were, and are, an amazing daugther and an extraordinary young woman that your mother, indeed both of your parents, found great pleasure and comfort in you. I cannot take your pain away, but I can, and will, walk beside you in this most difficult journey of grief and loss.
It is with great sadness that I come to you, my readers, requesting further prayers and well wishes for my friend J, whose mother in law passed away Saturday afternoon, and my best friend, D, whose mother lost her battle with cancer Saturday evening.
J's mother-in-law's funeral will be out of state, but I will be attending D's mother's funeral this afternoon.
While both J and D are very dear friends of mine; D is especially close to my heart. D and I have been friends for many years now, having met while we were both students at the local university. Our friendship remained strong despite my move to Alabama, and her more recent move to Texas to work on her Ph.D. D was there for me in many big ways when my father lost his own battle against cancer in August of 2004- graciously staying at my parents' home to take care of their cat and my two dogs so that I could be at the hospital during my father's last days.
I am heartbroken for D; I will never forget her phone call a few weeks ago when she told me that the cancer was back and her mother had only a few weeks to live. "I thought I understood what you were going through when your dad died, but I had no idea. I never wanted to be a member of this club with you"
Oh D, honey, I never wanted you to be a member of this club either. I hope that someday you will find comfort in the knowledge that you were, and are, an amazing daugther and an extraordinary young woman that your mother, indeed both of your parents, found great pleasure and comfort in you. I cannot take your pain away, but I can, and will, walk beside you in this most difficult journey of grief and loss.
Friday, June 08, 2007
Yet Even at the Grave We Make Our Song: Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia
This has been an devastating time for us and for our faith community. On Thursday, May 31st, our dear friend and the matriarch of our congregation, 91 year old Fran, died from a head injury resulting from a fall at her home. Darling Fran, everyone one who met you loved and admired you. Your strength, your faith, your poets soul- I will never forget you. One of the greatest honors of my life was to be a pallbearer at your funeral. Did you hear the bagpiper on that day? Amazing Grace, indeed.
On Sunday, June 3rd, our little congregation held a special service in honor of Fran and her many years of service to the Church. We were all hurting, but managed to find in our grief an equal level of joy for the gift and blessing that Fran was to all of us.
That afternoon we received a phone call that drove us to our knees, literally and figuratively. Our beloved friend, missioner, and the Bishop of Northern Michigan, Jim Kelsey, was driving home from a congregational visit in the eastern U.P. and was killed in a terrible car accident.
Words cannot express the depth and width of the grief that engulfs Jim's family, friends, and colleagues in the Episcopal Church- both within this diocese, across the nation, and in the world-wide Anglican Communion.
"The Episcopal Church has today lost one of its bright lights," Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori said. "We will be less without the easy grace of Bishop James Kelsey -- Jim to most of us -- and we shall miss his humor, insight, and passion for the ministry of all. He gave us much. We pray for the repose of his soul, and for his family. We pray also for the Diocese of Northern Michigan. All of us have lost a friend. May he rest in peace and rise in glory."
I encourage you to take a few minutes to read the following article by Episcopal Life Online reporter Herb Gunn, "The heart of ministry: the life and death of Jim Kelsey" :http://www.episcopalchurch.org/79901_86722_ENG_HTM.htm
God's peace, Jim. We have been so richly blessed to know and love you. My heart is broken: to me, you were a father, a brother, a spiritual advisor, a friend, and a teacher. Your memorial was such a celebration of your life and ministry! Even though, as Fran said, we carry on with broken hearts, we hold within our hearts and our memories your extraordinary example of faithfulness, unconditional love, and passion for justice. Do you know how many people gathered together to celebrate your life? Each and everyone of them adore you and aspire to live as faithfully and lovingly as you did with such "easy grace."
*above photos are: 1. Jim with his darling puppy, Juniper. photo is credited to Brother Jacob: http://brotherjacob.wordpress.com/2007/06/04/bishop-jim-kelsey/ 2. Jim and myself signing a document, the day Jim brought the Franscican brothers to our house to spend time with our congregation's ministry support team. 2. our beloved Fran sitting on our couch with one of the brothers. 3. Jim Kelsey and the Franciscans posing for a photo in our living room.
Friday, June 01, 2007
A's Graduation
My niece, A, graduated high school last night. I can hardly believe this is possible, wasn't it only yesterday that I, myself, was at the very same high school, telling everyone about her birth? Surely it wasn't that long ago that she and her kindergarten class, all decked out in halloween costumes, made their way through my high school math class, eyes as big as saucers, seeing all the 'big kids' and grinning like a cheshire cat when I handed her a few pieces of candy when she came by my desk. So how was it that last night I found my self sitting in *my* high school, watching her receive her diploma?
A was *my* first baby; I was fifteen when she was born. She was the lucky one who was the test baby for me- with A I learned how wonderful babies are, what joy there is in watching a baby learn to talk, walk, and sing Barney songs (well, ok, I am not all that fond of Barney songs, but still, she was cute when she would sing the "I love you" song at the end of the Barney show, bursting into tears and waving at the screen "bye bye Barney!"). And what a little social butterfly she was! Everyone she met was a friend; inviting complete strangers to come to her house for coffee. My friend, J, never tires of telling the story of the time she and I went to see my sister and A and, upon getting out of the car, three year old A came running out of the house shouting: "Jen, I Love your Hair! Who does it?"
So many wonderful memories. A beautiful, gregarious, charming little girl has become a beautiful, gregarious, charming woman. The little girl who used to sing and dance to Barney became the young girl who cheered for her (and mine, and her mother's, and her father's-talk about life in a small town) high school; this fall she will be a cheerleader at the university. From Barney to the Junior Patriots to the WHS Patriots, to the NMU Wildcats.
Truth be told, I hated cheerleaders when I was in school. I have A to thank for knocking down my "cheerleader prejudice" and showing me that not all cheerleaders are snobby you-know-whats, and that cheerleading is a real sport.
A had her graduation party last weekend, and I could not get over how grown up she has become. Still the social butterfly, she greeted everyone who came to the door, her infectious laugh filling the room as she and her friends teased each other and made plans for the big FUTURE....no, not the rest of their lives, but the more important things- whose party is when, who is going with who, and the all important "are you going to the all night graduation party after graduation thursday night?"
The only difficult part of A's party was running into old classmates of mine who showed up with their babies and toddlers and elementary school kids in tow. Ouch. Jealousy reared its ugly head, threatening to turn on the tears when one of A's guests arrived with her twin 7 month old baby boys.
I came very close to ruining A's party by grabbing those twin boys and running for the Canadian border!
Still, baby blues aside, it was a great party for a great kid...er woman.
Happy Graduation BeeBoo! I hope that when your uncle and I finally bring our baby (ies?) home, you will have time in your busy new life as a college student to spend time with us....I want so much for my children to experience the joy and happiness that you bring to this world.
A was *my* first baby; I was fifteen when she was born. She was the lucky one who was the test baby for me- with A I learned how wonderful babies are, what joy there is in watching a baby learn to talk, walk, and sing Barney songs (well, ok, I am not all that fond of Barney songs, but still, she was cute when she would sing the "I love you" song at the end of the Barney show, bursting into tears and waving at the screen "bye bye Barney!"). And what a little social butterfly she was! Everyone she met was a friend; inviting complete strangers to come to her house for coffee. My friend, J, never tires of telling the story of the time she and I went to see my sister and A and, upon getting out of the car, three year old A came running out of the house shouting: "Jen, I Love your Hair! Who does it?"
So many wonderful memories. A beautiful, gregarious, charming little girl has become a beautiful, gregarious, charming woman. The little girl who used to sing and dance to Barney became the young girl who cheered for her (and mine, and her mother's, and her father's-talk about life in a small town) high school; this fall she will be a cheerleader at the university. From Barney to the Junior Patriots to the WHS Patriots, to the NMU Wildcats.
Truth be told, I hated cheerleaders when I was in school. I have A to thank for knocking down my "cheerleader prejudice" and showing me that not all cheerleaders are snobby you-know-whats, and that cheerleading is a real sport.
A had her graduation party last weekend, and I could not get over how grown up she has become. Still the social butterfly, she greeted everyone who came to the door, her infectious laugh filling the room as she and her friends teased each other and made plans for the big FUTURE....no, not the rest of their lives, but the more important things- whose party is when, who is going with who, and the all important "are you going to the all night graduation party after graduation thursday night?"
The only difficult part of A's party was running into old classmates of mine who showed up with their babies and toddlers and elementary school kids in tow. Ouch. Jealousy reared its ugly head, threatening to turn on the tears when one of A's guests arrived with her twin 7 month old baby boys.
I came very close to ruining A's party by grabbing those twin boys and running for the Canadian border!
Still, baby blues aside, it was a great party for a great kid...er woman.
Happy Graduation BeeBoo! I hope that when your uncle and I finally bring our baby (ies?) home, you will have time in your busy new life as a college student to spend time with us....I want so much for my children to experience the joy and happiness that you bring to this world.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Slash: How my favorite TV show is quite possibly ruined for me forever
It is no secret to my family and friends that I am a huge West Wing fan. When West Wing was still on the air and I was in a graduate psychology program (that was cancelled, btw, before I finished, bad bad bad university), my cousin Becky and I would IM each other the countdown to WWW-West Wing Wednesday. Silly, to be sure, but our classes that semester were unbearably boring. The show, on the other hand, was smart, engaging, moving, and downright clever.
After I moved to Alabama to be with R, I had Wednesday night classes every week, so I missed seeing the latter half of season 6 and allmost all of season 7. Luckily, all seven seasons are on DVD and I have, in an uncharacteristic dive into frivilous consumerism, bought the whole series (across this past year of course, because buying 7 sets of DVDs at almost 50 bucks a pop is beyond the capacity of my wallet).
And, yes, for those of you who are wondering- my frustration over the slow pace of our adoption has me beating a fast retreat into fantasy land- so West Wing is my current "coping" mechanism, or, rather, my way to obsess about something other than the wait.
I am currently waiting for season 7 to arrive (hooray for Ebay!) and just finished watching the last episode of season 6 the other night. As with any addiction, withdrawal has been horrible- due, in part, to the depressing reality that I currently have no life and am in desperate need of a distraction (see above paragraph).
A reasonable person (well, ok a less deranged, more rational thinking person than I) would simply pop in one of the already watched DVD's from previous seasons, watch his/her personal favorite episodes, and keep an eye out for the postal worker delivering the mail.
I am not that person. I have some kind of anal retentive need to watch the shows in order, and so I am trapped in withdrawal by my own peculiarities.
Here is where the whole West Wing obsession gets bizarre (or, if you prefer, even more bizzarre): Having no idea when the season 7 DVD set is going to arrive, and being stuck in this godforsaken U.P wilderness with its 30 degree temperatures and overcast skies, I decided to cruise the internet for West Wing fan sites.
I discovered West Wing Fan Fiction.
Wow. There are people out there who write stories about the characters on West Wing. In some cases very complex, very long stories- for instance, one story had 17 chapters!
Intriguing. A little bizzarre, but intriguing.
I decide, in light of drizzling rain, 30 degree temperature, and no sign of the mail person, that, what the heck, why not waste a little time and read some of these stories.
I should have read the FAQ first. Particularly the definitions for "Slash" and "AU" stories.
Especially the definition for "Slash" stories.
I clicked on a story that featured President Josiah Bartlett (my personal fav), Leo McGarry (Chief of Staff, another fav character of mine), CJ Craig (White House secretary), and Toby Ziegler (Communications Director). With this particular cast of characters, I expected at best a pretty good drama involving some type of political dilemma (assuming the writer can, actually, write) or, at worst, a poorly worded, sloppy re-write of one of the episodes from the series.
I begin reading. And discover neither of my assumptions are correct.
Three paragraphs into the story and I am thinking....
Oh. my.
One page into the story and I am horrified......
OH NO.....NO NO NO NO NO...... that is SO NOT PRESIDENTIAL BEHAVIOR.
Barlett and Leo? CJ and Barlett and Leo? Toby and CJ and Bartett and Leo?
In the White House?
In the OVAL OFFICE?
ON the PRESIDENTIAL SEAL CARPET?
WITH NO CLOTHES ON?
After reading one and a half pages, I am in a state of shock. and disgust. I exit the website, stare in horror at the monitor, and then, shut down the whole computer.
It is quite possible that I may never be able to watch West Wing again. At the very least, I will have to ban all episodes involving Josiah Bartlett, Leo, CJ, and Toby having a scene together in the Oval Office in which the presidential seal carpet is shown on camera.
Yeah, that pretty much means I can't watch any episodes ever again.
I need a new favorite show. Something safe, like "Family Affair" or "The Waltons."
Surely people wouldn't write "slash" fan fiction about Buffy, Jody, and Mrs Beasely.
Would they?
After I moved to Alabama to be with R, I had Wednesday night classes every week, so I missed seeing the latter half of season 6 and allmost all of season 7. Luckily, all seven seasons are on DVD and I have, in an uncharacteristic dive into frivilous consumerism, bought the whole series (across this past year of course, because buying 7 sets of DVDs at almost 50 bucks a pop is beyond the capacity of my wallet).
And, yes, for those of you who are wondering- my frustration over the slow pace of our adoption has me beating a fast retreat into fantasy land- so West Wing is my current "coping" mechanism, or, rather, my way to obsess about something other than the wait.
I am currently waiting for season 7 to arrive (hooray for Ebay!) and just finished watching the last episode of season 6 the other night. As with any addiction, withdrawal has been horrible- due, in part, to the depressing reality that I currently have no life and am in desperate need of a distraction (see above paragraph).
A reasonable person (well, ok a less deranged, more rational thinking person than I) would simply pop in one of the already watched DVD's from previous seasons, watch his/her personal favorite episodes, and keep an eye out for the postal worker delivering the mail.
I am not that person. I have some kind of anal retentive need to watch the shows in order, and so I am trapped in withdrawal by my own peculiarities.
Here is where the whole West Wing obsession gets bizarre (or, if you prefer, even more bizzarre): Having no idea when the season 7 DVD set is going to arrive, and being stuck in this godforsaken U.P wilderness with its 30 degree temperatures and overcast skies, I decided to cruise the internet for West Wing fan sites.
I discovered West Wing Fan Fiction.
Wow. There are people out there who write stories about the characters on West Wing. In some cases very complex, very long stories- for instance, one story had 17 chapters!
Intriguing. A little bizzarre, but intriguing.
I decide, in light of drizzling rain, 30 degree temperature, and no sign of the mail person, that, what the heck, why not waste a little time and read some of these stories.
I should have read the FAQ first. Particularly the definitions for "Slash" and "AU" stories.
Especially the definition for "Slash" stories.
I clicked on a story that featured President Josiah Bartlett (my personal fav), Leo McGarry (Chief of Staff, another fav character of mine), CJ Craig (White House secretary), and Toby Ziegler (Communications Director). With this particular cast of characters, I expected at best a pretty good drama involving some type of political dilemma (assuming the writer can, actually, write) or, at worst, a poorly worded, sloppy re-write of one of the episodes from the series.
I begin reading. And discover neither of my assumptions are correct.
Three paragraphs into the story and I am thinking....
Oh. my.
One page into the story and I am horrified......
OH NO.....NO NO NO NO NO...... that is SO NOT PRESIDENTIAL BEHAVIOR.
Barlett and Leo? CJ and Barlett and Leo? Toby and CJ and Bartett and Leo?
In the White House?
In the OVAL OFFICE?
ON the PRESIDENTIAL SEAL CARPET?
WITH NO CLOTHES ON?
After reading one and a half pages, I am in a state of shock. and disgust. I exit the website, stare in horror at the monitor, and then, shut down the whole computer.
It is quite possible that I may never be able to watch West Wing again. At the very least, I will have to ban all episodes involving Josiah Bartlett, Leo, CJ, and Toby having a scene together in the Oval Office in which the presidential seal carpet is shown on camera.
Yeah, that pretty much means I can't watch any episodes ever again.
I need a new favorite show. Something safe, like "Family Affair" or "The Waltons."
Surely people wouldn't write "slash" fan fiction about Buffy, Jody, and Mrs Beasely.
Would they?
Friday, May 18, 2007
Conversations with a 4 Year Old- aka I am so ready to be a mom
Last evening R and I met some friends and their 4 year old granddaughter, B, for dinner. B brought along all of her my little ponies and I had a blast coloring with her and helping her "feed" the ponies some of the carrot sticks that came with B's chicken strip meal. After dinner was over, B stated that she "really truly wished she could sleep over our house tonight." Of course, we all know that her wish to sleep over would come to an abrupt end about twenty minutes after she came to our house (she is, after all, 4), so her grandmother and I tried to both acknowledge her wish and convince her that it was really better if she slept at Grandma and Boppa's house, and that we would set a date later in the summer for her to come spend the day here with me.
B was having none of it. For one, she was very tired and therefore in a stubborn, yet whiney, mood. Also, she is very precocious and countered everyone of our "arguments" with a very endearing, eye lash batting, head ducking into my shoulder (I was carrying her at this point) sweet voiced little refrain: "Oh, but if I don't sleep over tonight, I will never not ever have a chance again, and that would make me so very sad."
So, we arrived at a compromise. B would ride to our house with us, and Grandma and Grandpa would come pick her up in a little while, and we would make plans to have a super duper sleep over at our house this summer, with a princess tent thrown in for good measure (I am a sucker for the eyelash batting routine). So, we moved the booster seat to our car, grabbed the backpack with all the little ponies in it, and headed to our house.
B dearly loves Ben and Bogey, and so we spent the first five minutes or so talking about the dogs and watching them tear around the house in wild abandon- so thrilled they were to have someone new in their house.
Then, B found the baby's room (still not put together after the move, but that is another post) and, to her great delight, discovered the big red fire engine pedal car tucked into the corner. With its flashing red light and loud silver bell it is simply irresitable to B. So, Bailey climbs in, we wheel it out into the hallway, and R "helps" (i.e. pushes) B drive it down the hallway into the living room.
We then spent about twenty minutes playing "Fire Engine"......we fixed 10 flat tires (using a basting syringe as a tire pump), checked the oil 5 or six times (using a the broken end of a wooden spoon as a dipstick), and filled the gas tank 12 times (using the basting syringe as a gas pump). We also saved six kitties stranded in high trees using the ladders and put out two fires. Oh, and we also brought the little Red Ryder ride-on fire engine (designed for two year olds) to use as a back up fire truck for the ponies to ride on, so that we could still help people while the big engine was "gettin fixed."
Sure enough, about twenty minutes into the visit, B says rather nonchalantly "I wonder when Grandma and Boppa are coming."
So, I sneak away and call my friends and tell them B is asking for them, and if they really loved me they would come to get her before we hit the crying stage.
Grandma and Boppa arrive about five minutes later (they live just down the street from me) and B spent a few minutes showing off the fire engine and, as she left with them, demanded that we make sure to check the tires and the oil and the gas tank so that when she comes back to play the fire engine is ready to go.
As I was playing with B, watching her "ride" the fire engine and save the stranded kitties in the trees, I couldn't help but wonder if someday we would be watching our own little guy playing so happily with the fire engine, a basting syringe, a broken wooden spoon "dipstick", and little wooden ladders perfect for saving kitties stuck in trees.
Watch, my kid will hate fire engines and will turn the wooden dipstick into a toy gun. which he will use to shoot chippies and other random animals hiding in trees.
I don't care. I am just so ready to be a mom.
B was having none of it. For one, she was very tired and therefore in a stubborn, yet whiney, mood. Also, she is very precocious and countered everyone of our "arguments" with a very endearing, eye lash batting, head ducking into my shoulder (I was carrying her at this point) sweet voiced little refrain: "Oh, but if I don't sleep over tonight, I will never not ever have a chance again, and that would make me so very sad."
So, we arrived at a compromise. B would ride to our house with us, and Grandma and Grandpa would come pick her up in a little while, and we would make plans to have a super duper sleep over at our house this summer, with a princess tent thrown in for good measure (I am a sucker for the eyelash batting routine). So, we moved the booster seat to our car, grabbed the backpack with all the little ponies in it, and headed to our house.
B dearly loves Ben and Bogey, and so we spent the first five minutes or so talking about the dogs and watching them tear around the house in wild abandon- so thrilled they were to have someone new in their house.
Then, B found the baby's room (still not put together after the move, but that is another post) and, to her great delight, discovered the big red fire engine pedal car tucked into the corner. With its flashing red light and loud silver bell it is simply irresitable to B. So, Bailey climbs in, we wheel it out into the hallway, and R "helps" (i.e. pushes) B drive it down the hallway into the living room.
We then spent about twenty minutes playing "Fire Engine"......we fixed 10 flat tires (using a basting syringe as a tire pump), checked the oil 5 or six times (using a the broken end of a wooden spoon as a dipstick), and filled the gas tank 12 times (using the basting syringe as a gas pump). We also saved six kitties stranded in high trees using the ladders and put out two fires. Oh, and we also brought the little Red Ryder ride-on fire engine (designed for two year olds) to use as a back up fire truck for the ponies to ride on, so that we could still help people while the big engine was "gettin fixed."
Sure enough, about twenty minutes into the visit, B says rather nonchalantly "I wonder when Grandma and Boppa are coming."
So, I sneak away and call my friends and tell them B is asking for them, and if they really loved me they would come to get her before we hit the crying stage.
Grandma and Boppa arrive about five minutes later (they live just down the street from me) and B spent a few minutes showing off the fire engine and, as she left with them, demanded that we make sure to check the tires and the oil and the gas tank so that when she comes back to play the fire engine is ready to go.
As I was playing with B, watching her "ride" the fire engine and save the stranded kitties in the trees, I couldn't help but wonder if someday we would be watching our own little guy playing so happily with the fire engine, a basting syringe, a broken wooden spoon "dipstick", and little wooden ladders perfect for saving kitties stuck in trees.
Watch, my kid will hate fire engines and will turn the wooden dipstick into a toy gun. which he will use to shoot chippies and other random animals hiding in trees.
I don't care. I am just so ready to be a mom.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Wierdology
KelleyO tagged me with this one......Enjoy!
FOODOLOGY
What is your salad dressing of choice? Catalina French
What is your favorite fast food restaurant? tough call, i am not a big fan of fast food. McDonald's, I guess.
What is your favorite sit-down restaurant? Toss up between Red Lobster and Olive Garden
On average, what size tip do you leave at a restaurant? 20%
What food could you eat every day for two weeks and not get sick of? I dont think there is any food I could eat everyday for two weeks.
What is your favorite type of gum? BlackJack
TECHNOLOGY
What is your wallpaper on your computer? A picture of Martin Sheen in the Cathedral from the West Wing episode "Two Cathedrals"
How many televisions are in your house? 2
BIOLOGYQ.
What’s your best feature? eyes (or so I have been told)
Have you ever had anything removed from your body? um, yeah, the usual stuff: tonsils, adenoids
Which of your five senses do you think is keenest? I have no earthly idea.
When was the last time you had a cavity? oh I bet I have one right now.
What is the heaviest item you lifted last? Coffee Table
Have you ever been knocked unconscious? yup. car accident in Gettysburg, PA. Car flipped and landed right on the battle field. moral of the story: beware of 88 year old women driving 70's era cadillacs.
BULLSHITOLOGY
If it were possible, would you want to know the day you were going to die? nope.
Is love for real? I believe so.
If you could change your first name, what would you change it to? I like my name
What color do you think looks best on you? Blue
Have you ever swallowed a non-food item by mistake? a rogue mosquito. blech!
Have you ever saved someone’s life? In what way? I've called 911 a couple of times for someone. not sure if that even comes close to saving anyone.
Has someone ever saved yours? The doctor who realized I had a raging staff infection in my knee (post-op) and called in the surgeons on a Sunday night. Definitely saved my life, not to mention my leg.
DAREOLOGY
Would you walk naked for a half mile down a public street for $100,000? Maybe. Can I have a few shots of hard liqour first?
Would you kiss a member of the same sex for $100? yeah, probably.
Would you allow one of your little fingers to be cut off for $200,000? Not in this lifetime
Would you never blog again for $50,000? I'd seriously consider it.
Would you pose nude in a magazine for $250,000? No
Would you drink an entire bottle of hot sauce for $1,000? Yes. especially if there is a few hundred glasses of water standing ready.
Would you, without fear of punishment, take a human life for $1,000,000? Wouldn't even consider it.
Would you give up watching television for a year for $25,000? Nope
Give up MySpace forever for $30,000? Sure thing.
DUMBOLOGYQ:What is in your left pocket? dog treats
Is Napoleon Dynamite actually a good movie? Never watched it
Do you have hardwood or carpet in your house? carpet
Do you sit or stand in the shower? Stand
Could you live with roommates? Not happily
How many pairs of flip-flops do you own? None. uck.
Last time you had a run-in with the cops? Pulled over for having a headlight out a few months ago.
What do you want to be when you grow up? who said I planned on growing up?
Last friend you talked to? Fran
Last person you called? R
RANDOMOLOGY
First place you went this morning? No where. unless the bathroom counts. ha.
What can you not wait to do? Receive our referral
What’s the last movie you saw? The Queen
Are you a friendly person? Usually.
Hmm...who to tag? I pick Kathryn at Journey to Our Child, Laura at Ladybugs and Dragonflies, and Kate at The Cracked Pot
FOODOLOGY
What is your salad dressing of choice? Catalina French
What is your favorite fast food restaurant? tough call, i am not a big fan of fast food. McDonald's, I guess.
What is your favorite sit-down restaurant? Toss up between Red Lobster and Olive Garden
On average, what size tip do you leave at a restaurant? 20%
What food could you eat every day for two weeks and not get sick of? I dont think there is any food I could eat everyday for two weeks.
What is your favorite type of gum? BlackJack
TECHNOLOGY
What is your wallpaper on your computer? A picture of Martin Sheen in the Cathedral from the West Wing episode "Two Cathedrals"
How many televisions are in your house? 2
BIOLOGYQ.
What’s your best feature? eyes (or so I have been told)
Have you ever had anything removed from your body? um, yeah, the usual stuff: tonsils, adenoids
Which of your five senses do you think is keenest? I have no earthly idea.
When was the last time you had a cavity? oh I bet I have one right now.
What is the heaviest item you lifted last? Coffee Table
Have you ever been knocked unconscious? yup. car accident in Gettysburg, PA. Car flipped and landed right on the battle field. moral of the story: beware of 88 year old women driving 70's era cadillacs.
BULLSHITOLOGY
If it were possible, would you want to know the day you were going to die? nope.
Is love for real? I believe so.
If you could change your first name, what would you change it to? I like my name
What color do you think looks best on you? Blue
Have you ever swallowed a non-food item by mistake? a rogue mosquito. blech!
Have you ever saved someone’s life? In what way? I've called 911 a couple of times for someone. not sure if that even comes close to saving anyone.
Has someone ever saved yours? The doctor who realized I had a raging staff infection in my knee (post-op) and called in the surgeons on a Sunday night. Definitely saved my life, not to mention my leg.
DAREOLOGY
Would you walk naked for a half mile down a public street for $100,000? Maybe. Can I have a few shots of hard liqour first?
Would you kiss a member of the same sex for $100? yeah, probably.
Would you allow one of your little fingers to be cut off for $200,000? Not in this lifetime
Would you never blog again for $50,000? I'd seriously consider it.
Would you pose nude in a magazine for $250,000? No
Would you drink an entire bottle of hot sauce for $1,000? Yes. especially if there is a few hundred glasses of water standing ready.
Would you, without fear of punishment, take a human life for $1,000,000? Wouldn't even consider it.
Would you give up watching television for a year for $25,000? Nope
Give up MySpace forever for $30,000? Sure thing.
DUMBOLOGYQ:What is in your left pocket? dog treats
Is Napoleon Dynamite actually a good movie? Never watched it
Do you have hardwood or carpet in your house? carpet
Do you sit or stand in the shower? Stand
Could you live with roommates? Not happily
How many pairs of flip-flops do you own? None. uck.
Last time you had a run-in with the cops? Pulled over for having a headlight out a few months ago.
What do you want to be when you grow up? who said I planned on growing up?
Last friend you talked to? Fran
Last person you called? R
RANDOMOLOGY
First place you went this morning? No where. unless the bathroom counts. ha.
What can you not wait to do? Receive our referral
What’s the last movie you saw? The Queen
Are you a friendly person? Usually.
Hmm...who to tag? I pick Kathryn at Journey to Our Child, Laura at Ladybugs and Dragonflies, and Kate at The Cracked Pot
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
The Week in Review
I realize I have not posted in ages, and I apologize if that has annoyed anybody. Truth is, there is no adoption news to report, and since this is an adoption focused blog I sometimes have to scramble to find something to talk about. I believe we are now number 55 on the list (rumors are that there were four referrals recently, three boys and one girl, although I have not officially received an update from our regional rep), and someone recently posted on our agency yahoo list that they are number 54 and have been asked to put their dossier together- however I do not know if they are number 54 on the overal list of 159 or 54 on the list for a boy, or 54 on the list for a girl, so I do not have my hopes up in terms of being asked to put our dossier together. I probably should contact our homestudy agency to schedule an update sometime soon (we recently moved, so we need to amend the homestudy to state that), however we are trying to put that off as long as we can so as to get as much "mileage" out of the updated homestudy as possible. We really do not want to have to do yet another update down the road if we dont' have to, for obvious reasons: it is expensive. If we can schedule it for sometime in August, then we will be near our one year mark for our homestudy (we had our original homestudy done in September of last year) and should be o.k. if the timeline our agency has given us holds true.
In other news, this last week/10 days have been filled with drama and adventure! Let's see, where to start.....hmmm....anyone up for a good Bogey story? Kate, you will appreciate this one, since your Piper is also a scottie.
Bogey's Grand Adventure
Last Wednesday morning, I let Ben and Bogey outside in the backyard to run around and chase that horrible chipmunk that insists on teasing them- hoping, in vain, that by letting them outside I would get a few minutes peace and quiet to check email without a cacophany of barking and whining from the boys as they sit in the window and voice their protest over the chippie's presence in their yard. It worked like a charm, for about ten minutes. Then, Ben decided he had had enough of the fruitless hunt and wanted back in. I let Ben in and tried to convince Bogey to come back in as well- however he was still hot on the trail of the chippie and refused to give up the chase.
I learned a long time ago that you can't outstubborn a scottie- they are going to do what they want to do when they want to do it, thank you very much. So, I left him outside and decided to tackle the distasteful task of laundry. While I was in the back room gathering up the dirty clothes, Ben began barking his little head off in the living room- it was his "alarm" bark; of the "something is terribly wrong and you need to come here right now" variety.
I muttered some not so nice words under my breath about the chipmunk and returned to the living room to tell Ben to chill out. Sure enough, Ben was sitting on the back of the couch staring out the window and barking like mad. Had to be the chippie, I figured. I knew that he would not stop barking until I looked out the window and acknowledged that yes, there is the chippie, and yes it is in the backyard etc.....
Imagine my surprise when I looked and did not see a chipmunk anywhere. "What in the name of all that is holy ARE you barking about Ben?"
Then I saw it. Way off in the distance, at the crest of the hill and moving fast towards the forest. A little white tail wagging.
I flew out into the backyard and checked the perimeter of the fence. Sure enough, there was a hole dug underneath the corner of the fence.
Bogey was AWOL.
I grabbed Ben's leash and put it on him, put Bogey's leash in the pocket of my hoodie, and took off out the door.
ONE HOUR LATER...after tromping through the woods in some kind of horrible Saturday Night Live spoof of Lewis and Clark exploring the wilderness... alternately crying, pleading, and cussing Bogey out.... I finally managed to get my hands on the little runaway. [Actually, Ben is the one who caught him, as Bogey likes to hunker down and "hide" and jump out at Ben -it is his favorite game- and, thinking this was one hell of a great game he was playing, did the same thing in the woods.....when he jumped out from underneath a mass of soggy leaves (did I mention it was raining?) and landed on top of Ben, I managed to grab him and hook him to his leash]
My once white/wheaten little scottie dog was pitch black. covered in dirt, mud, sticks, leaves, and who knows what the hell else.
When we finally made our way back to the house a rather sheepish Bogey headed right down the hall and jumped into the bathtub. Normally I would have found this to be a Hallmark "aw how cute and clever" moment, but I was far too ticked off to appreciate that interpretation. Instead I interepreted it as Bogey saying "ok, yeah, I know this is the price I have to pay for taking off, but man it was a lot of fun and definitely worth it."
It took 3 baths to get him clean. 6 towels. 1/2 a bottle of doggie shampoo. Not to mention I then had to bathe Ben. And myself.
Robert came home early and fixed the fence so that it was now truly "Bogey proof."
So, imagine my shock when the very next day I looked outside and could not see Bogey ANYWHERE.......
I checked the fence....no signs of a prison break.
Yet, there was no Bogey to be seen.
And Ben was again sounding the alarm with his extremely annoying, shrill barking frenzy campaign.
I could not believe this was happening. again.
Guess who managed to dig a hole under the deck (no small feat, as it is more a platform than a deck and has no steps- it rests on the ground for crying out loud)?
And Guess who got STUCK under the deck and could not get out?
Guess who had to dig you-know-who out from under the deck and give him yet another round of baths?
That dog is going to be the death of me yet.
In other news, this last week/10 days have been filled with drama and adventure! Let's see, where to start.....hmmm....anyone up for a good Bogey story? Kate, you will appreciate this one, since your Piper is also a scottie.
Bogey's Grand Adventure
Last Wednesday morning, I let Ben and Bogey outside in the backyard to run around and chase that horrible chipmunk that insists on teasing them- hoping, in vain, that by letting them outside I would get a few minutes peace and quiet to check email without a cacophany of barking and whining from the boys as they sit in the window and voice their protest over the chippie's presence in their yard. It worked like a charm, for about ten minutes. Then, Ben decided he had had enough of the fruitless hunt and wanted back in. I let Ben in and tried to convince Bogey to come back in as well- however he was still hot on the trail of the chippie and refused to give up the chase.
I learned a long time ago that you can't outstubborn a scottie- they are going to do what they want to do when they want to do it, thank you very much. So, I left him outside and decided to tackle the distasteful task of laundry. While I was in the back room gathering up the dirty clothes, Ben began barking his little head off in the living room- it was his "alarm" bark; of the "something is terribly wrong and you need to come here right now" variety.
I muttered some not so nice words under my breath about the chipmunk and returned to the living room to tell Ben to chill out. Sure enough, Ben was sitting on the back of the couch staring out the window and barking like mad. Had to be the chippie, I figured. I knew that he would not stop barking until I looked out the window and acknowledged that yes, there is the chippie, and yes it is in the backyard etc.....
Imagine my surprise when I looked and did not see a chipmunk anywhere. "What in the name of all that is holy ARE you barking about Ben?"
Then I saw it. Way off in the distance, at the crest of the hill and moving fast towards the forest. A little white tail wagging.
I flew out into the backyard and checked the perimeter of the fence. Sure enough, there was a hole dug underneath the corner of the fence.
Bogey was AWOL.
I grabbed Ben's leash and put it on him, put Bogey's leash in the pocket of my hoodie, and took off out the door.
ONE HOUR LATER...after tromping through the woods in some kind of horrible Saturday Night Live spoof of Lewis and Clark exploring the wilderness... alternately crying, pleading, and cussing Bogey out.... I finally managed to get my hands on the little runaway. [Actually, Ben is the one who caught him, as Bogey likes to hunker down and "hide" and jump out at Ben -it is his favorite game- and, thinking this was one hell of a great game he was playing, did the same thing in the woods.....when he jumped out from underneath a mass of soggy leaves (did I mention it was raining?) and landed on top of Ben, I managed to grab him and hook him to his leash]
My once white/wheaten little scottie dog was pitch black. covered in dirt, mud, sticks, leaves, and who knows what the hell else.
When we finally made our way back to the house a rather sheepish Bogey headed right down the hall and jumped into the bathtub. Normally I would have found this to be a Hallmark "aw how cute and clever" moment, but I was far too ticked off to appreciate that interpretation. Instead I interepreted it as Bogey saying "ok, yeah, I know this is the price I have to pay for taking off, but man it was a lot of fun and definitely worth it."
It took 3 baths to get him clean. 6 towels. 1/2 a bottle of doggie shampoo. Not to mention I then had to bathe Ben. And myself.
Robert came home early and fixed the fence so that it was now truly "Bogey proof."
So, imagine my shock when the very next day I looked outside and could not see Bogey ANYWHERE.......
I checked the fence....no signs of a prison break.
Yet, there was no Bogey to be seen.
And Ben was again sounding the alarm with his extremely annoying, shrill barking frenzy campaign.
I could not believe this was happening. again.
Guess who managed to dig a hole under the deck (no small feat, as it is more a platform than a deck and has no steps- it rests on the ground for crying out loud)?
And Guess who got STUCK under the deck and could not get out?
Guess who had to dig you-know-who out from under the deck and give him yet another round of baths?
That dog is going to be the death of me yet.
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
Oh Boy
Last week the board of directors of the Sawyer Family Center put together a flyer to go out in the community newspaper that details the different projects and events that are currently going on and in the works.
1500 of these things were printed up and delivered as an insert in the sawyer news.
My phone has been ringing off the hook since they were delivered.
Why, you ask?
Simple.
Instead of the phone number for the Sawyer Family Center being put on the flyer, our personal home phone number was put there by mistake
and no one caught this before it went to print. no one.
And no, I did not see it before it was printed. I would hope that if I had, I would have noticed that the flyer had MY HOME PHONE NUMBER ON IT!!!!!
now everytime the phone rings, I cringe.
And there is nothing I can do to fix it. not a damn thing.
ARGH!!!!!!!
1500 of these things were printed up and delivered as an insert in the sawyer news.
My phone has been ringing off the hook since they were delivered.
Why, you ask?
Simple.
Instead of the phone number for the Sawyer Family Center being put on the flyer, our personal home phone number was put there by mistake
and no one caught this before it went to print. no one.
And no, I did not see it before it was printed. I would hope that if I had, I would have noticed that the flyer had MY HOME PHONE NUMBER ON IT!!!!!
now everytime the phone rings, I cringe.
And there is nothing I can do to fix it. not a damn thing.
ARGH!!!!!!!
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Where we are on the Vietnam adoption wait list
I received a very nice, considerate, and informative email from our regional rep in response to my inquiry concerning the expanding wait times, where we are on the infamous "list", and what we should expect concerning our own wait.
According to the email, we are 111 on the list of currently 154 families waiting for a referral. If the list is further differentiated into boy and girl requests, we (having said we prefer a boy) are #59. However, if any of the 110 people ahead of us on the master list who are currently asking for a girl only change their preference to boy or girl, we will be bumped down the list.
The current wait times are 12-15 months for a boy and 2+ years for a girl. The wait time can either increase or decrease depending upon the number of referrals and the frequency of referrals our agency receives. Therefore, it is impossible to say that we will wait longer than 12-15 months, wait exactly 12,13,14, or 15 months, or wait less than 12-15 months.
in the last four months, our agency has only had 2 girl referrals, so the current statistics are in favor of boy referrals over girl referrals, which, if the trend continues, gives us a little bit of hope that we might at least fall within the wait time line quoted to us in January: 12-15 months.
So, that is where we stand right now. I feel better having a better handle on how the list works and where we are on the list. Of course, I had hoped that we were further up on the list, as we are 3 months into our wait, and if we do the math of being (potentially #59) on the list, and say there are 5 referrals a month on average, that puts us at 12 more months for a referral. Within the 12-15 month wait we were quoted, albiet at the tale end of it. So, roughly one year until referral , and 3-5 months after that for travel. Yuck. Lord grant me patience.
But, at least we know more now than we did before. That's worth something, right?
According to the email, we are 111 on the list of currently 154 families waiting for a referral. If the list is further differentiated into boy and girl requests, we (having said we prefer a boy) are #59. However, if any of the 110 people ahead of us on the master list who are currently asking for a girl only change their preference to boy or girl, we will be bumped down the list.
The current wait times are 12-15 months for a boy and 2+ years for a girl. The wait time can either increase or decrease depending upon the number of referrals and the frequency of referrals our agency receives. Therefore, it is impossible to say that we will wait longer than 12-15 months, wait exactly 12,13,14, or 15 months, or wait less than 12-15 months.
in the last four months, our agency has only had 2 girl referrals, so the current statistics are in favor of boy referrals over girl referrals, which, if the trend continues, gives us a little bit of hope that we might at least fall within the wait time line quoted to us in January: 12-15 months.
So, that is where we stand right now. I feel better having a better handle on how the list works and where we are on the list. Of course, I had hoped that we were further up on the list, as we are 3 months into our wait, and if we do the math of being (potentially #59) on the list, and say there are 5 referrals a month on average, that puts us at 12 more months for a referral. Within the 12-15 month wait we were quoted, albiet at the tale end of it. So, roughly one year until referral , and 3-5 months after that for travel. Yuck. Lord grant me patience.
But, at least we know more now than we did before. That's worth something, right?
Monday, April 30, 2007
Latest Agency update on the Vietnam program
When I opened my email box this morning, there was an update from our regional representative on the Vietnam adoption program. According to the email, they have not received any new referrals, but expect to have some soon. The closing line of the email reads:
"We know the wait times are getting longer for families and understand how hard this is for you. We are here for you during this difficult time and want to support you. "
I know this was written in an honest expression of concern, but I cant help but feel a bit "handled" by such a statement. However, I decided to take advantage of this expression of concern and sent an email to our regional rep, asking for clarification on where R and I stand in the wait list and what our wait time might be.
I ask this primarily because a recent post on our agencies Yahoo group by a PAP indicated that the wait time for a boy referral might be as long as 17 months. Another email posted by a PAP reported that their regional rep sent out an email asking those waiting for a girl referral to consider changing their gender preferrence or perhaps considering another program- the underlying message being that the wait time for a girl referral is growing even longer.
Now, we requested an infant boy, twins, or a sibling group (with the oldest child being up to 36 months of age), so I am not as concerned about the growing wait for a girl referral. But I am concerned that the growing wait for a boy referral might eventually result in a similar email being sent to those of us waiting for a boy: that we might wish to consider another program.
So, in my email to our agency rep I asked, very nicely, for clarification on the wait time we should expect, a clarification on how the wait list works and an inquiry as to where we stand in that wait list, and our concerns that we might, in the future, be asked to consider another program.
We shall see what happens. I really hope that I get a substantial response from my inquiry, and not a vague, "its hard to tell as we can't predict how many referrals we get" and a "hang in there, we know this wait is hard and we are there for you during this difficult time." It is maddening to try to make important decisions when you receive answers like that.
There is also a tiny part of me that is terrified that I am being too pushy in sending this email. When, I wonder, did I start harboring these kind of fears?
"We know the wait times are getting longer for families and understand how hard this is for you. We are here for you during this difficult time and want to support you. "
I know this was written in an honest expression of concern, but I cant help but feel a bit "handled" by such a statement. However, I decided to take advantage of this expression of concern and sent an email to our regional rep, asking for clarification on where R and I stand in the wait list and what our wait time might be.
I ask this primarily because a recent post on our agencies Yahoo group by a PAP indicated that the wait time for a boy referral might be as long as 17 months. Another email posted by a PAP reported that their regional rep sent out an email asking those waiting for a girl referral to consider changing their gender preferrence or perhaps considering another program- the underlying message being that the wait time for a girl referral is growing even longer.
Now, we requested an infant boy, twins, or a sibling group (with the oldest child being up to 36 months of age), so I am not as concerned about the growing wait for a girl referral. But I am concerned that the growing wait for a boy referral might eventually result in a similar email being sent to those of us waiting for a boy: that we might wish to consider another program.
So, in my email to our agency rep I asked, very nicely, for clarification on the wait time we should expect, a clarification on how the wait list works and an inquiry as to where we stand in that wait list, and our concerns that we might, in the future, be asked to consider another program.
We shall see what happens. I really hope that I get a substantial response from my inquiry, and not a vague, "its hard to tell as we can't predict how many referrals we get" and a "hang in there, we know this wait is hard and we are there for you during this difficult time." It is maddening to try to make important decisions when you receive answers like that.
There is also a tiny part of me that is terrified that I am being too pushy in sending this email. When, I wonder, did I start harboring these kind of fears?
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Thinking Blogger Award
They like me, they really like me! seriously, I am blown away that I have been given the "Thinking Blogger Award" by E at "Looking for George" and by Gretchen at "Lawmommy." Not only are they both women that I admire, they are the writers of two of my "must reads" on my list of blogs. Trouble is, they have been nominated by someone else, so I can't turn around and give them the award back. Same true for Mrs. Brocoli Guy, Life of Elle, The Open Window, The Cracked Pot, and Worth the Wait- all blogs that I love written by women that I respect and would love to meet in RL.
Before I nominate my 5, I am required by the rules to point those who I nominate towards the guidelines for this award, so check out this site before you nominate your 5 http://www.thethinkingblog.com/2007/02/thinking-blogger-awards_11.html (sorry folks, I have no idea how to do this so that it just has a "magic highlighted word" that you click on)
Without Further Ado, here are my 5 nominees:
1. Big Momma's World (http://thebodiebunch.blogspot.com/). Cindy is a 52 year old mom to 39 kids- yes, that is right, 39 kids. She adopted from Central America and from the foster care system. An Evangelical Christian who is far more conservative in her beliefs than I am, she has made a life for herself as a mom to kids who others would not adopt: older kids, and large sibling groups. I am constantly amazed at her faith, determination, and commitment to kids with some very tough behavior problems. I suffer under no illusions that I could live her life, but I respect her for what she has done and read her blog daily to see how she and her kids are doing. She is honest about the difficulties her kids face, but at the same time her love for the kids shines through. A tough lady, for sure. And a good mother.
2. Whittier on Autism (http://whitterer-autism.blogspot.com/). A British woman living in the United States who writes candidly and with great humor about her life as a mother to two young boys with Autism. Everyone should read this blog, wether or not they have an interest in autism or not- she is simply one of the best writers out there in bloggerland.
3. Jenn and BJ's blog Long Adventures (http://longadventures.blogspot.com/). Jenn and BJ were, up until recently, with the same agency Robert and I are with, in the process of adopting an infant from Vietnam. They are now the parents to a beautiful little peanut, Amos, that they adopted domestically. If you have not read their story, head over there right now and read it! They wrestled with the issues that plague most of us on waiting lists for a Vietnam adoption - the long wait, the concern over the icky "supply and demand" situation that seems to be occuring in Vietnam adoption -and made what was surely a difficult decision to switch to a domestic adoption. Amos truly is their miracle baby!
4. KellyO's blog Bunny's Mom (http://vietnambabybabybaby.blogspot.com/). KellyO started the Vietnam adoption process expecting to adopt a baby girl from Vietnam. Learning about a young boy on a Vietnam adoption agency waiting list who needed a family, she and her husband stepped up and said "We want to parent him." Will, the boy they are adopting, is a twin- his birthmother decided to place him for adoption, but not his brother. KellyO candidly shares in her blog the questions and concerns she wrestles with in their adoption of Will- the challenge of an older child adoption, her concerns over Will's feelings about being adopted, leaving his brother and his mother, and coming to America to be her son, and her wish to adopt both boys, if possible. She has a heart of gold, and the compassion she has for Will, his brother, and his birthmom is humbling to those of us who read her blog. I am amazed and in awe of the way in which KellyO and her husband have expanded their adoption dream to include not only the infant girl they first dreamed of, but an adorable little boy in a heartbreaking situation.
5. LaLa's blog Ladybugs and Dragonflies (http://www.thegrowingwarehouse.blogspot.com/). LaLa is the mom of the most beautiful little girl, Annslee, adopted from China. She and her husband are now in the process of adopting a little girl from Vietnam. her website is filled with photos and stories of Annslee, and includes a link to her page about their soon to be daugther from Vietnam. In addition, she is one of my best friends in bloggerland, and is allways quick to send me a friendly email when I am feeling down. I treasure her friendship greatly, and have photos of her little peanut on my fridge. Lala reminds me that there is light at the end of the "tunnel of endless waiting" and offers a vision of motherhood and family life that gives me hope that my own dreams of motherhood and family life can be, and will be, actualized. An intelligent, compassionate woman, she presents a postive, upbeat attitude that gives me courage and strength to keep hanging on. At my lowest point, she gave me the greatest gift- the opportunity to send to little Annslee a gift in the mail. LaLa, you probably have no idea how much it meant to me to be able to send a gift to a little one that, for me, has become the symbol of all that is good and right and joyous about building a family through adoption. I encourage everyone to drop by Ladybugs and Dragonflies, if for no other reason than to see the divine miss Annslee!
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Inertia and our Vietnam Adoption
I have a million and one things to accomplish this week, and really have no business dorking around on the internet or posting on this blog. I have a sermon to prepare, a presentation for a workshop on Friday that I haven't even begun to put together, a fundraiser for the family center this thursday, two boyscout troops that have signed up to help with our community "Yooper Quilts for U.P. Troops" project that are scheduled for Thursday evening, and a get together for our congregation at our house on Sunday afternoon that requires a top to bottom cleaning of the house as well as a menu that needs to be planned.
But, Inertia has struck. hard.
I cannot muster up one lick of motivation to do any of the above mentioned things. Instead I sit here reading blogs, googling Vietnam Adoption updates, checking the Waiting Child list on our agency, and re-reading the latest update from our agency: "33 families with referrals waiting to travel, 154 families on the dossier list waiting for a referral and 203 families that have applied and are working on their home study and waiting for CIS approval [April 20, 2007 email]."
I have no idea what the other agencies are quoting to their clients, but the numbers we are seeing alarm me. R and I are part of the 154. Some bloggerland friends of mine are among the 203. Who knows how many others are signing up as I type this, upping the numbers even more.
I also have no idea what number we are on the list: all I know is we are part of the 154 people. I tried to go back and find the updates from January (when we officially joined the waiting for referal list) so that I could work out the math, but I can't find any updates from that time. I know we are not 154 of 154, but we sure as heck aren't anywhere near the #1 spot either.
Nor do I have any earthly idea how many of the 154 are on the "girl only" wait list, how many are on the "boy only" wait list, and how many are in the "either/or" category of the wait list.
I would write and ask where we stand, but I have this irrational (or is it?) fear that if I ask I might be making a pest of myself, and I am terrified of pissing someone at the agency off- as that can't be a good thing. Somehow our agency has evolved in my mind from " the agency who we waited a year to work with, we are so impressed with them and trust them with our lives" to "the agency that has all the power and we best make ourselves unobtrusive and passive as possible cuz just maybe there is a slim chance that doing so will curry their favor and we will get a referral sooner."
Stunningly stupid thinking on my part, I realize. Clearly I am reading far too many adoption horror stories on the internet. The agency we are working with has never given me any reason to question their ethics or to make the preposterous assumption that they would react negatively to any inquiry on our part concerning the adoption.
Yet the irrational fears keep their stronghold on me.
Frankly, the long list of folks on the list pisses me off. The "I want to scream at the top of my lungs to the whole world that I did not sign up for this" kind of pissed off. I find myself thinking of the different paths we could have chosen had we not signed with this agency and for this program. If we had known the wait was going to be this long, we could have pursued having a child the biological way (more fun, less expensive, to be sure) and then adopted. Guess what? With the agency we are with, if we become pregnant during the process, we cannot complete our Vietnam adoption. We could have also pursued a domestic adoption during this wait time [hey we might have gotten lucky (blessed really) like Jenn and BJ, who are the proud parents of adorable little Amos], but, again, our agency contract stipulates that we cannot do that either, and if we do so, we will have to drop out of the Vietnam adoption program.
I am kicking myself for not paying more attention to these rules when we started. Its the familiar "If I knew then what I know now" situation that we all encouter at one point or another in our lives. We didn't know, of course, that our wait would grow from a few months until a referral to 10-15 months for a referral.
In the end, it all comes down to money. Counting the homestudy costs, the INS costs, and the Agency fees we have shelled out around 7 grand so far. If we made any changes at this point (i.e. switching agencies) we will forfeit a little over 4 thousand of that money.
There is something particularly distatesful in the fact that we are staying put in this long wait line primarily because of money. Yuck. But the reality is we cannot toss aside that much money. Nor can we come up with that same amount to sink into another agency or program.
So, there we are. Stuck in the ever growing line of foks waiting for a referral. Wondering how in the world we are going to handle the possibility that this adoption has disintegrated from a "we want to be parents, there is a child in Vietnam who needs a parent, let's do this" to "There are apparently an unlimited number of people out there who want to be parents and apparently a limited number of children in Vietnam who need parents and are eligible for IA, which has created a rather icky situation of demand exceeding supply."
It all rather feels like I have drawn the "Cherry Pit" card on Candyland and the red square cards have disappeared from the deck, thus leaving me stuck for the remainder of the game. No advancing towards the Candy Castle or even moving backwards to the Peppermint Stick Forest.
R just came in the door, so I am going to post this uber depressing blog and see if he wants a late lunch.
Ta, everyone. I'll try to be more positive next time I post. I really hate being the Eyore of the blogging universe.
But, Inertia has struck. hard.
I cannot muster up one lick of motivation to do any of the above mentioned things. Instead I sit here reading blogs, googling Vietnam Adoption updates, checking the Waiting Child list on our agency, and re-reading the latest update from our agency: "33 families with referrals waiting to travel, 154 families on the dossier list waiting for a referral and 203 families that have applied and are working on their home study and waiting for CIS approval [April 20, 2007 email]."
I have no idea what the other agencies are quoting to their clients, but the numbers we are seeing alarm me. R and I are part of the 154. Some bloggerland friends of mine are among the 203. Who knows how many others are signing up as I type this, upping the numbers even more.
I also have no idea what number we are on the list: all I know is we are part of the 154 people. I tried to go back and find the updates from January (when we officially joined the waiting for referal list) so that I could work out the math, but I can't find any updates from that time. I know we are not 154 of 154, but we sure as heck aren't anywhere near the #1 spot either.
Nor do I have any earthly idea how many of the 154 are on the "girl only" wait list, how many are on the "boy only" wait list, and how many are in the "either/or" category of the wait list.
I would write and ask where we stand, but I have this irrational (or is it?) fear that if I ask I might be making a pest of myself, and I am terrified of pissing someone at the agency off- as that can't be a good thing. Somehow our agency has evolved in my mind from " the agency who we waited a year to work with, we are so impressed with them and trust them with our lives" to "the agency that has all the power and we best make ourselves unobtrusive and passive as possible cuz just maybe there is a slim chance that doing so will curry their favor and we will get a referral sooner."
Stunningly stupid thinking on my part, I realize. Clearly I am reading far too many adoption horror stories on the internet. The agency we are working with has never given me any reason to question their ethics or to make the preposterous assumption that they would react negatively to any inquiry on our part concerning the adoption.
Yet the irrational fears keep their stronghold on me.
Frankly, the long list of folks on the list pisses me off. The "I want to scream at the top of my lungs to the whole world that I did not sign up for this" kind of pissed off. I find myself thinking of the different paths we could have chosen had we not signed with this agency and for this program. If we had known the wait was going to be this long, we could have pursued having a child the biological way (more fun, less expensive, to be sure) and then adopted. Guess what? With the agency we are with, if we become pregnant during the process, we cannot complete our Vietnam adoption. We could have also pursued a domestic adoption during this wait time [hey we might have gotten lucky (blessed really) like Jenn and BJ, who are the proud parents of adorable little Amos], but, again, our agency contract stipulates that we cannot do that either, and if we do so, we will have to drop out of the Vietnam adoption program.
I am kicking myself for not paying more attention to these rules when we started. Its the familiar "If I knew then what I know now" situation that we all encouter at one point or another in our lives. We didn't know, of course, that our wait would grow from a few months until a referral to 10-15 months for a referral.
In the end, it all comes down to money. Counting the homestudy costs, the INS costs, and the Agency fees we have shelled out around 7 grand so far. If we made any changes at this point (i.e. switching agencies) we will forfeit a little over 4 thousand of that money.
There is something particularly distatesful in the fact that we are staying put in this long wait line primarily because of money. Yuck. But the reality is we cannot toss aside that much money. Nor can we come up with that same amount to sink into another agency or program.
So, there we are. Stuck in the ever growing line of foks waiting for a referral. Wondering how in the world we are going to handle the possibility that this adoption has disintegrated from a "we want to be parents, there is a child in Vietnam who needs a parent, let's do this" to "There are apparently an unlimited number of people out there who want to be parents and apparently a limited number of children in Vietnam who need parents and are eligible for IA, which has created a rather icky situation of demand exceeding supply."
It all rather feels like I have drawn the "Cherry Pit" card on Candyland and the red square cards have disappeared from the deck, thus leaving me stuck for the remainder of the game. No advancing towards the Candy Castle or even moving backwards to the Peppermint Stick Forest.
R just came in the door, so I am going to post this uber depressing blog and see if he wants a late lunch.
Ta, everyone. I'll try to be more positive next time I post. I really hate being the Eyore of the blogging universe.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Random Events and Bogey's Bad Day
Good news! Ben's liver enzyme levels are down! The vet hopes that one more month of the Zentonil will bring him back to normal. Ben seems to have more energy these days, and is playing more with Bogey and with us. He is also obsessed with the squirrels and chipmunks in our new back yard. I cannot tell you how relieved I was to find out the results of his blood test!
In birthday events, I have finally decided to forgive my husband for buying me the worst birthday present a man could ever buy a woman: an anti-aging kit from bath and body works. He swears he just bought it cuz the sales person told him it was great stuff, and to ignore the anti- aging title. Of course, the sales person was probably all of 18 years old, so I am pretty sure she thought at 33 I needed an anti aging kit. I taught him a new rule for life: NEVER EVER BUY A WOMAN ANYTHING THAT SAYS ANTI- AGING!!! EVER!! IF A WOMAN WANTS AN ANTI AGING PRODUCT SHE WILL BUY IT HERSELF!!!
Now, finally, I will tell the story of Bogey's Bad Day. Picture it, upper michigan, 2007....early in the morning. R goes to work quite early, so he lets Ben and Bogey outside for potty duty before he leaves for work (after all, an aging woman needs her beauty sleep!). on this particular morning, R was running late, so he was in a rush to get the dogs out and back in again. Ben and Bogey come barreling back in the house, R leaves for work. Both dogs race upstairs to the bedroom- Ben crawling back under the bed for an early morning snooze, Bogey jumps up into the bed to say hello to me and snuggle back down for some cuddle time. As usual, he snuggles up right next to me and puts his head on the pillow, with his back end resting in the crook of my arm. Now, isnt' that a hallmark moment?
Not really. In fact, not even close. As Bogey snuggles down, I detect an odor. a very strong odor. Let's call it "Eu De Poo" Instantly I am wide awake. And horrified. Bogey apparently did not finish what he was doing outside this morning, and the results were beyond disgusting, and all over his butt, the bedding, and my arm.
I spring into action, jump up and out of bed, grab Bogey off the bed, and dash to the bathroom. I drop Bogey into the bathtub, nudge the door shut with my foot, and turn the water on (not too hot, not too cold, but just right), frantically looking around for a plastic cup to rinse the back end of bogey off.
The water hits the clumps of Eu De Poo and I quickly realize I am going to have to grab some toilet paper and pick the cumps out of his hair and out of the tub- no way were they going to simply rinse down the drain.
Turning to grab some toilet paper was my first big mistake. I turn, Bogey jumps out of the tub, and....at just that moment, Ben (who previously was on the outside of the door barking and whining to get in, cuz he is not about to be left out of anything) somehow manages to push the door open.
Ben trotts in, Bogey bolts out.
I uttered some not so very nice words, and leapt over Ben (who was blocking the door, wagging his tail so PROUD of having opened the door all by himself) and go on a "Bogey hunt."
I found him in the OTHER bedroom, "making a nest" out of the bed covers...his back end dripping wet, (and oooh this is so gross) with "brown wet stuff" getting smeared and flung all over the bed.
Holding my breath and trying not to gag, I grab him again, fly back to the bathroom and slam the door shut (this time with Ben on the inside, proving I have a pretty darn good learning curve when it comes to this type of emergency situation) and put Bogey back in the tub.
It took THREE baths to get him clean and half a bottle of baby shampoo!!!
Once I set him free and he did his tear around the house at mach speed and rubbing his face on all the carpets and attacking the towel I so foolishly was trying to dry him off with...Ben in hot pursuit barking his head off.... I inspected the damage.
Doggy Poo was everywhere....on the two bedspreads, on my pillow case (I dont even want to KNOW how that happened), on the sleeve of my pajama top, on the carpet in the hallway, the carpet in both bedrooms, and (as if things were not allready beyond awful) all over the carpet in the basement by the backdoor that leads to our fenced in back yard.
I called R on the phone and asked him how in the world he managed to NOT notice that Bogey had POO all over himself, still coming OUT (EEWW GROSS) when he called the dogs back into the house before he went to work. HOW CAN SOMEONE NOT NOTICE AND NOT SMELL THIS??????
I spent the entire day washing all the bedding, my pajamas, (myself too, actually, cuz I so needed a shower after that....for sheer OH MY GOD I HAD DOG POO ON ME reality of the situation) and scrubbing carpets.
Bogey, of course, now all sweet smelling and squeeky clean, curled up on the couch with Ben and resumed his early morning snooze.
Please tell me that kids do not do things like this!
In birthday events, I have finally decided to forgive my husband for buying me the worst birthday present a man could ever buy a woman: an anti-aging kit from bath and body works. He swears he just bought it cuz the sales person told him it was great stuff, and to ignore the anti- aging title. Of course, the sales person was probably all of 18 years old, so I am pretty sure she thought at 33 I needed an anti aging kit. I taught him a new rule for life: NEVER EVER BUY A WOMAN ANYTHING THAT SAYS ANTI- AGING!!! EVER!! IF A WOMAN WANTS AN ANTI AGING PRODUCT SHE WILL BUY IT HERSELF!!!
Now, finally, I will tell the story of Bogey's Bad Day. Picture it, upper michigan, 2007....early in the morning. R goes to work quite early, so he lets Ben and Bogey outside for potty duty before he leaves for work (after all, an aging woman needs her beauty sleep!). on this particular morning, R was running late, so he was in a rush to get the dogs out and back in again. Ben and Bogey come barreling back in the house, R leaves for work. Both dogs race upstairs to the bedroom- Ben crawling back under the bed for an early morning snooze, Bogey jumps up into the bed to say hello to me and snuggle back down for some cuddle time. As usual, he snuggles up right next to me and puts his head on the pillow, with his back end resting in the crook of my arm. Now, isnt' that a hallmark moment?
Not really. In fact, not even close. As Bogey snuggles down, I detect an odor. a very strong odor. Let's call it "Eu De Poo" Instantly I am wide awake. And horrified. Bogey apparently did not finish what he was doing outside this morning, and the results were beyond disgusting, and all over his butt, the bedding, and my arm.
I spring into action, jump up and out of bed, grab Bogey off the bed, and dash to the bathroom. I drop Bogey into the bathtub, nudge the door shut with my foot, and turn the water on (not too hot, not too cold, but just right), frantically looking around for a plastic cup to rinse the back end of bogey off.
The water hits the clumps of Eu De Poo and I quickly realize I am going to have to grab some toilet paper and pick the cumps out of his hair and out of the tub- no way were they going to simply rinse down the drain.
Turning to grab some toilet paper was my first big mistake. I turn, Bogey jumps out of the tub, and....at just that moment, Ben (who previously was on the outside of the door barking and whining to get in, cuz he is not about to be left out of anything) somehow manages to push the door open.
Ben trotts in, Bogey bolts out.
I uttered some not so very nice words, and leapt over Ben (who was blocking the door, wagging his tail so PROUD of having opened the door all by himself) and go on a "Bogey hunt."
I found him in the OTHER bedroom, "making a nest" out of the bed covers...his back end dripping wet, (and oooh this is so gross) with "brown wet stuff" getting smeared and flung all over the bed.
Holding my breath and trying not to gag, I grab him again, fly back to the bathroom and slam the door shut (this time with Ben on the inside, proving I have a pretty darn good learning curve when it comes to this type of emergency situation) and put Bogey back in the tub.
It took THREE baths to get him clean and half a bottle of baby shampoo!!!
Once I set him free and he did his tear around the house at mach speed and rubbing his face on all the carpets and attacking the towel I so foolishly was trying to dry him off with...Ben in hot pursuit barking his head off.... I inspected the damage.
Doggy Poo was everywhere....on the two bedspreads, on my pillow case (I dont even want to KNOW how that happened), on the sleeve of my pajama top, on the carpet in the hallway, the carpet in both bedrooms, and (as if things were not allready beyond awful) all over the carpet in the basement by the backdoor that leads to our fenced in back yard.
I called R on the phone and asked him how in the world he managed to NOT notice that Bogey had POO all over himself, still coming OUT (EEWW GROSS) when he called the dogs back into the house before he went to work. HOW CAN SOMEONE NOT NOTICE AND NOT SMELL THIS??????
I spent the entire day washing all the bedding, my pajamas, (myself too, actually, cuz I so needed a shower after that....for sheer OH MY GOD I HAD DOG POO ON ME reality of the situation) and scrubbing carpets.
Bogey, of course, now all sweet smelling and squeeky clean, curled up on the couch with Ben and resumed his early morning snooze.
Please tell me that kids do not do things like this!
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