Mostly about tp holding

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

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

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

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



Fer instance:

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

black screen

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I see the future.

No More Yelling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

Putting those ghosts to bed

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

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

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

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

My ass.

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

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

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


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

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

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

The Season of Miracles?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When I was twenty one...

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

Why?

Because they were women.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Adoption and teenagers makes me buff

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

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

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

The same.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sweep

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

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

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

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



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

Hello?

(tap tap tap)

Is this thing on?

(squreeeee!)

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

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

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

Steady on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thank you Mom, for this."

Oh baby, you are so welcome.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

hopeful?

While I'm driving yesterday-

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

Me: Um. Why not honey?

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

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

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

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

Child: SIGHING "I guess so."

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

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

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

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

Child: (Reluctantly sitting next to me.)

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

Child: (Shrugs)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Respite

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

WELL DONE! You've recorded a loss this week. That's great news! However, we notice that you've lost more than an average of 2 pounds per week over three or more weeks. This rate is too rapid — it may be unsafe or unhealthy. While we're proud of your achievements and pleased you're making changes in your life, we need you to concentrate on one more thing: You should slow the pace of your weight loss to no more than 2 pounds per week. Click here to read more about the effects of rapid weight loss. Here are some tips on slowing down your weight loss this week: Make sure you're not skimping on your meals. If you've been saving your weekly POINTS Allowance, try using some this week. If you're exercising a lot, try to swap some (or all) of your bonus Activity POINTS values for food.

Allow me a moment of frustration here.

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

Thank you.

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

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

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

Because, um, it is.

more head cold free association

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unnnnh.

I hab a horrid code.

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

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

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

Urgh. My head is all sinusy achey.

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

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

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

Yay.

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

How it was resolved...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She said she was sorry but otherwise seemed unaffected.

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

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

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

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

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

and now...I'm hungry

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, Happy Thanksgiving American peoples and

I'm still hungry.

Princess in a tower

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


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

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

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

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

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

About a boy

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

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

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

Keeping Track

Since the beginning of this month I have:

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

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

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

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

-entered into counselling with my husband

-started weight watchers

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

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

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

-lost five pounds

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

-really enjoyed my mealtimes with all my kids

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

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

What do you want for winter festivies

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

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


What is up with that?

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

Argh.

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

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

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

I have my front teeth PT. 2

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

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

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



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

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


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

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

I have two front teeth...pt 1.

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

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

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









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





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

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











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










Tomorrow the list may grow....

Rapier

The gawdess is in a pis*sy mood.

Why?

Could be hormonal.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fantasy is a good thing sometimes.

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

Unbearable Lightness of Being with pictures.

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

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

Shut up.

Maybe I will let them play with it.

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

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

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

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

Before supper and the sun was already setting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So there.

pounds

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

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

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

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

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

Remembrance Day

Today is Remembrance Day in my country.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Worse than columbus

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yup, I'm a dork.

And my son comes by his navigational deficits honestly.

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

Now and then...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No! Really she did!
Honest!

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

Think about how good that sounds.


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

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

Letting out a shuddering breath.

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

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

Dollars

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

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

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

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

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

it is going to be an expensive month.

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

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

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

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

Money money money

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

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

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

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

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

it is going to be an expensive month.

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

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

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

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

PLEASE stop buy and give some support

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

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

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

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

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

Much love.

How to Win Stump The Mom Game?

Easy, ask the kid for the answer.

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


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

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

Wow.

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

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

Wow.

What a kid.

Stump the Mom!

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

STOMP, ER, STUMP THE MOM!

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

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

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

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

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

Still haven't figured it out.

Back is still a mess.

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

Score so far:
Mom is stumped.

Snow on the roof

The garage is still unfinished.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Argh.

When are you guys going to see the marriage counsellor?

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

So, to review:


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

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

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

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

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

Pass the muscle relaxant, please!

BTW 3 down.


-

birthday brief

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

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

Not bad.

Desperately Seeking Words

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

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

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

It has been really busy.

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

Participating in
NaBlahBlahBlahPoMo

I had a good title for this....

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, maybe I will try that:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was a warning sign.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But I would like us break free of that cycle.

And maybe we are.

Or, rather he is.

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

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

I'm not kidding myself.

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


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

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

Home Again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

More than happy to get home.
Alive.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

What's Up

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

Now that is easing off a little bit.

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But it is.

****

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

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

Which is good.
Better being expressed than not.

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

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

God.
She is only 8.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Whew?
A lot huh?

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

That will be interesting.