B-9

Finally, the doctor's office called:

B-9
Bee Nine
Bah Nine
Buh Nine
Bih Nine

No matter how you say it -my lump was not cancer!!!!!!!!!

Apparently, what I had was a Fat Necrosis of the Breast. Who knew???? It is a lump that develops after you've had surgery, a breast injury, or radiation treatment and is scar tissue overlying an area of fatty tissue that has been damaged. Its firmness makes it difficult to distinguish from cancerous lumps by feel and can look like cancer even with radiology. Makes perfect sense: The lump that was removed yesterday was in the same breast and near the incision site where I had another suspicious lump removed last year. PHEW.

I am totally fried from the nervous tension of waiting and the sweet relief in hearing such good news. YIPPPPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

How Does Your Garden Grow???

Please tell me your gardens are also stunted from the Biblical amounts of rain and lack of sun we have been having here in New England...I'm embarassed that not even the weeds are growing as they usually do - I think I have 3 zucchini plants out of at least 40, 0 wax beans, 0 carrots (greens but no carrot), 0 radishes (lots of greens with straight roots - but no radish bulb at the end!!!!) 0 Watermelon, 10 peas out of 3 rows.......quite a bit of red looking grass like vegetation that should be swiss chard - but is stunted red grass. No climbing green beans (my eight foot tall, wrought iron, climbing, fancy pyramid poles look ABSOLUTELY RIDICULOUS bare-naked.

The photo above is from Last Year's Garden - I repeat: LAST YEAR'S GARDEN.

I ran out of time in Vermont last month on the Sunday afternoon when I planted and never even put tomatoes in. So I have these 8 empty metal tomato cages lined up in two rows with no yellow beans growing underneath shading their roots.....Tell me it wouldn't have looked TOO STINKIN' CUTE if it grew??????

I think I am most embarassed that my brown to green ratio is out of whack. By this time of year I should at least have a garden overflowing with bright green weeds - then I could have the plausible deniability of being out of state, only here at Camp on weekends...BLAH BLAH BLAH....too busy to weed..... But I can't even grow FRICKIN' weeds!!!!! Well- except maybe along my entire backyard fence line ....But that is another post.....

Had a breast lump removed yesteday - am home in my pajamas feeling pretty good except for a bruised and swollen neck and fat lip!!!! - No idea how I can came home looking like I went through a drunken bar fight - BUCKSHOT thought the anesthesia didn't work so good so they took turns punching me out!!!!!!!) Sure as heck feels that way....Everything hurts but the incision site for the lump - GO FIGURE!!!!!!!

I should get the biopsy results this afternoon - today is my birthday - 48 - so I am hoping for a good birthday present...I mean, really - who wants cancer for their birthday?????? I'd much rather have weeds in my garden.

Can't wait to get back to VT.......

Three Boys and a Bunk Bed

Today is the last day of school for Bucksquat. AK and RADish finished Monday. To celebrate, I am heading to our camp in Vermont with the three boys for a mini-vacation while the other mother works...She'll head up on Friday night. So I won't be blogging for about a week.

Stay tuned, though. It promises to get good.

Our camp in Vermont is small so they will be sharing a room with one bunkbed - which means each boy rotates: a night on the top bunk, bottom bunk , and sleeping bag on the floor.

Our plans so far include a very long car drive, having to go to the bathroom after passing the sign that says "Next exit 72 miles", acclimating AK to the area by playing tour guide - since AK hasn't been to Vermont before, working at the church tag sale, pouting, riding bikes at the bike path, being oppositional, sulking, fishing, instigating fights, heading to the lake, being disregulated, sleeping late, being manic, visiting the cat rooms at the local animal shelter for some fur-therapy, random accusations of space invasion and general irritation, and, finally, heading back to Happy Valley, New England after church on Sunday.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Par For The Course

Tonight Bucksquat had his heart broken yet again by RADish.

For at least five minutes tonight, all was well. I stepped out on the front porch with my coffee to give the five-minute warning. You know the drill: it's getting late, time to pick up and come in for snack - blah blah blah. The other-mother was upstairs on the computer doing some much-overdue homework for the lay ministry program she is in, the fire flies were out in full force, the mosquito's were doing their best to annoy me and the three boys were playing golf on the front lawn, breaking in the new sand-trap hole that Bucksquat had spent two days creating. Doesn't get much better that that.

Next thing I know, Bucksquat is inside, laying on his bed crying. Now, his bedroom windows open to the front porch - so there was no plausible deniability...I had to deal with it. But not unitl I went inside and microwaved my coffee....

He followed me to the kitchen and with firm eye contact and eyes overflowing with tears, Bucksquat bravely choked out "The nicer I am to him the meaner he is." Which, of course, pushes the REPLAY button on his own PTSD issues.....

I hate it when his heart is breaking. Hate it.

So I look him square in the eye and tell the truth. "Yes. That is exactly what happens. You get it! He's mean if we are nice. You expect he will appreciate your hard work like you do, and when he doesn't you are really disappointed. He just can't deal with people being nice to him right now. I'm sorry that happened, but you get it, though! We can't keep getting mad at him for something he just can't do right now."

I mean - how do you explain RAD to a 10 year old whose heart is breaking?????

Buckquat speaks the language of love through gifts of objects, drawings, brings us flowers, does sweet things for people. It is almost like his being extra kind to others diminishes the power of the many unkindnesses (and abuse & neglect) he has experienced. Sweaty, muddy, tear-streaked Bucksquat had spent two days meticulously creating a new and challenging hole on our family 4 hole mini golf course located in yard - and had sacrificed a whole big chunk of lawn to create a "sand trap" because he knows how much he and RADish and AK (Average Kid) enjoy golf...so I get how genuine his sadness truly is.

Here is where AK stepped up!!!! While I was talking with Bucksquat in the kitchen , AK was rummaging through my greeting card box in the living room and found a stinkin-cute card with a dog on it and independently wrote a note to Bucksquat thanking him for the work on the golf course...and he even signed RADish's name. Wow.

Bucksquat was grateful, and immediately knew it was all AK's doing. AK and I had a little WOOT-WOOT chat, praising AK for being a nice kid, stepping up and doing the right thing and for recognizing that MEAN just SUCKS.

Happy Anniversary To Us

Today is my wedding anniversary. One year. Paper Anniversary (I think). No big deal. Right? Well............It actually is a big deal. You see, we are a lesbian couple (GASP!!! Cover the childrens' ears - quick!!!!) and haven't been able to LEGALLY marry until recently. Although we have been together for almost 18 years...we begin counting again today....One year. One glorious year. The first of many to come. Happy Anniversary to us.

Saturday Laughter

This Saturday morning I woke to the sound of BAP BAP BAP BAP - the rhythmic rapping of our dog Sarah's long bony tail as it hits the cupboards. She is one of those optimistic old golden retriever types that believes in the inherent goodness of all human kind and appreciates any and all leftovers. Love that dog. Love her.


I roll over as much as I can pinned by three cats at the end of the bed to hear faint laughter, followed by a few thunks, thuds and and squeals. Next the house shaking sensation and sound of something or someone tumbling to the floor. Even with the laughter, I knew it was the sound of someone falling out of bed. Not good.

One thousand one
One thousand two
One thousand three
One thousand.....

Pause - now this is where my less than optimistic foster mother radar goes on high alert. I hold my breath, counting the seconds between the lightning strike and the crash of thunder.

In our house, experience tells me that the next sound I hear should be the ear splitting screams of disregulation, injustice, accusations, bitterness, suspicion, paranoia, anger, PTSD.... In other words: a whole big dose of UGLY to rain on whatever fun was being had....

The overwhelming reaction to the boys' unbridled fun is the impulse is to squelch it, control it, supervise it, manage it and generally intervene. The fear that someone will get "triggered" or "out of control" or that "disregulation will rule the day" looms in the back of my mind. I lay stiffly in bed - no longer enjoying the extra time of sleeping in.

So I wait and wait ....and the next sound I hear is laughter. Yes, laughter. For the next twenty minutes the house is filled with shrieks, squeals, giggles, slamming doors, laughter...loud racing footsteps moving through the house... But clearly, above all else, what I hear is the sounds of 3 boys being boys, and just having fun.

BWAP BWAP BWAP BWAP. Even more eager thwacking of the tail. Sarah is very very happy about something, and gratefully, so are we.

HELLLOOOO ??? Anyone Out There ???

If you are out there checking out my blog (and I know you are from my little map widget)- stop in and say HI.

Reply to a post, Follow my blog...

Blogging sometimes is like talking to yourself...and I'd probably feel slightly saner (not too much - just slightly) if I had a few followers to rant and rave to....

Ch Ch Ch Ch Changes....

David Bowie CHANGES would be the soundtrack I would pick for today....

This afternoon I received some News from THE STORK (my very loving term for our FABULOUS adoption Social Worker)

She called to say that at some big whoop-dee-doo planning meeting today it was decided that our RADish's case will be "consolidated". He is in one part of our great state in New England and his dad is in another part of the state. Radish rather reluctantly here in month ten of a pre-adoptive placement with us and the goal was changed today from adoption to reunification and foster care. In addition, his case will be transferred to his dad's local division office. They will be looking for a foster home for him near his dad so they can begin the process of therapeutically working in counseling towards a healthy and successful reunification.

Wow.

I am happy for him as reunification (or at least some clearly defined RESOLUTION) is what is desperately needed for this poor poor boy to ever become whole and attach anywhere.

He does not know. Both social workers (The STORK ans Dad's SW) will come and tell him together when the time is near (probably mid July by the time they all get their ducks in a row and paper work filed in triplicate etc etc etc

Wondering if this is the right thing...?? Who knows -

Tonight, when he sneezed in the car, I cheerfully said "Bless You!". He just stared at me with those blank unblinking eyes and flat emotionless expression.

So while we don't know if this is the right thing for him, I reluctantly believe his moving on is the right thing for us and our family.

What Do We Do??? Advice??? Anyone???

Ok. This hasn't happened to us before. We almost called the 1-800 ..... after hours, hotline support number for the Division of Families and Children for advice on what to do until the Social Worker arrives Monday morning to take him several towns away to his school....

We had no clue what to do, I mean, we have heard about it before - but hadn't seen it (not even with our bio kid.....I don't even think we covered it in our eight week long foster parent training class. Certainly not in the foster support group we attend for the Valley towns........and for sure it has not been discussed in our adoption support group.....

Yes, dear readers, our latest placement is.................(gulp) AN AVERAGE KID.

What do they expect us to do???? I've tried google , bing, amazon.com, blogs.....But for crying out loud.............Does anyone know how to deal with a AVERAGE KID????????????

Anyone?????

New Kid

For months now, we have been joking with our two younger boys that they had better keep their rooms and shared bathroom clean in case we get a "new kid". Our RADish likes to dump all of his worldly posessions on the second twin bed in his room. We playfully remind him to tidy up and clear off the bed "in case we get a new kid".

Welllllll .....after all this time, we got a new kid!

A 13 year old boy joined our home this evening. Not his first time in care...he had been to our home once before - about a year ago- for an overnight respite type stay.

We did our best to welcome him back and make him feel at ease. The boys' Bathroom has one wall painted in chalkboard paint - so we had written WELCOME BACK _____! At tuck in time (Yawn......) that had been erased and replaced with I WANT TO GO HOME written seven or eight times in different colors of chalk.

How very, very sad.