Yesterday's post made light of my son's constant battles of control and mistrust of everything and everyone. I cannot make light tonight. The sad reality is that my boy is hurting beyond hurt.

He is hurting enough that last night his regular verbal threats to take his life and his wishes that others "would just kill me and get it over with" escalated to a suicidal gesture. Certainly not his first -he has been hospitalized before - but the first gesture in our home since he arrived almost three years ago.

Basically, while getting ready for bed (doing the "brush and flush") his PTSD was triggered by two things: his perception he was being spoken to more harshly than James AND that James might hit or tickle him. But, really, his huge PTSD reaction was triggered by "who knows what" and the end result is he was flooded WELL BEYOND his capacity to cope...

I called the school to inform them Bobby had tried to harm himself and brought them up to speed. The school disclosed a several progressive issues he has been having: threatening to go to the commission of education against his principal when she asked him not to scribble over a standardized test, wanting to file a grievance against a substitute teacher asking that they not be allowed to teach, telling the principal that the recess lady wasn't doing a good job, etc etc. Fun times.

Today was his regular day for his monthly check in with his psychiatrist and Thursdays at 5pm is his regular therapy appointment.

We brought the baby over to our dear, foster-adoptive-friend, one of the amazing Mountain Top Moms, Miss Martha. Our babysitter is regularly scheduled for James on Thursdays (because Wednesday may be Pr*nce Spaghetti Day, but Thursday is therapy day...) but wanted her just to focus on James. I called all three kids Social Workers to let them know what was going on and then went to get Bobby at school for his appointment.

The Other Mother and I talked to his psychiatrist with Bobby in the room and then with him waiting outside in the hall. She upped his Pr*zac and put him back on Ten*x and we'll check back in two weeks. We decided to remove as many stressors as possible (instead of unstructured recess, stay indoors, etc.) She complimented our TEFLON DEMEANOR (the explanation of which is worth its own post...) She said she'd speak to his therapist. She said she see us again in 2 weeks.We left and got the baby and spent some time at the library until therapy time.

When we arrived for our 5pm at the very same office and right away his therapist called him back to "get started". I incorrectly assumed the psychiatrist had given the therapist a heads up that Bobby is currently in crisis and is imploding. NOT SO.

I could tell the therapist didn't know by the level of play (LOUD disregulated maniacal laughter and room shaking-floor thumping) that was coming through the walls into the waiting room and the lack of quiet (implying they are talking). When the session ended, I cheerfully, asked if the psychiatrist had spoken to him about Bobby's recent med changed and when he said "No", I asked to have a few minutes alone to update him.

Yeah, His eyes were bugging but he was trying to look all calm and cool. He said they talked about some girl on the playground who was bothering Bobby, but didn't mention trying to harm himself or get the principal fired etc. etc.

I AGAIN reminded his therapist that Bobby is skilled in deflecting and avoiding and manipulating therapy topics to AVOID talking of anything of importance. We reviewed a contingency plan for emergency crisis services in the event we have a repeat performance.

Tonight at home, we talked a lot, he cried a lot and we explained that we were going to help him try to manage all he is going through, that he didn't have to do it alone, that he could make some personal changes in how he has been trying to manage everything and take advantage of therapy to get through this hurdle...

WE are WIPED OUT.

No spin, no humor, nothing. It just sucks.

What Attachment & Trust Issues Look Like

First, let me say, THIS is what a child with attachment and trust issues looks like:



This is what they sound like:
COUGH*COUGH*COUGH*HACK*HACK*COUGH*BARK*SNIFFLE*COUGH*BARK*BARK*HACK*SNIFFLE*HACK

Bobby has not stopped coughing since he didn't get the snack he wanted.

Oh.My.Goodness...Seriously.

Bobby has been home "sick" from school the past two days. Cold? Allergies? I dunno. I'm wanting to avoid the mucous thing since he's had a cough-free day today. I've loaded him up on clear liquids, fruit juice....and for the possible allergy part he's taken Benadryl, too.

So, for snack this afternoon he wanted a chocolate covered granola bar.




I said " Have some fruit - something light."

He sighs. "I really want the granola bar."

"Have some fruit or veggies."



He stares at me. His eyes narrow. Game On.

I brightly say:
"We have:
red apples
green apples
peaches
pineapple
applesauce
mandarin oranges
and carrots."


He grabs the granola bar, reads the ingredients and says "It has nuts in it"'




I take a deep breath and say "Yup, it does. You can have fruit or veggies"

He stares. I can hear the gears in his brain calculating his next move.




I open the fridge door, and doing my very best lovely Carol Merril, give the Grand Tour of what's behind Door Number One:

"We have:
red apples
green apples
peaches
pineapple
applesauce
mandarin oranges
and carrots."

I pause.




He glares.

He re-opens the veggie drawer and says "I'll have the bannana."




Much to his surprise the yellow thing is a zucchini/summer squash and NOT a bananna (which he only wanted anyhow because I DIDN'T list it as an option.)



He glares.

I smile.

His nostrils flare a little.

I say "Listen - Your nose isn't running and you're not coughing are you?"

HUGE MISTAKE ON MY PART....

What I meant was "Because you've been following Dr. Mom's Medical Advice you don't have a runny nose and you aren't coughing phlegm like a wounded Harbor Seal every three minutes and therefore should keep listening to what I say until you get better."



At first I thought he didn't catch my meaning - Because he instantly started coughing and grabbed a dinner napkin to dramtically "wipe" his nose.

Maybe he interpreted what I said as "IF your nose is running AND you have a nasty cough THEN you can have the granola bar."

A few seconds of violent wounded Harbor Seal coughing go by and I realize, he understands my meaning all right. No confusion there.

Because I implied that our medical and parental care had something to do with his state of wellness, he was compelled to cough VIOLENTLY and suddenly begin to sniffle and wipe in order to PROVE ME WRONG.



His usual pathology is adults are NOT to be trusted, NOT to be relied on, and I am NOT his parent (merely his staff) and could NOT possibly know what is best for him.

He stares.

Now, it is my turn to glare.

He says "I guess I'm really not hungry after all."



And - he hasn't stopped coughing since.



(written 3:30 p.m.- 4:30 pm Tuesday)

Home Sick

Yesterday The Squat (aka Bucksquat / Bobby) had a nasty coughing-cold thing and was home from school.

Interesting to how a parentified child takes to being cared for when home ill.

He strolled outside and started playing.

I followed him outside and asked "What are you doing?"

"Playing" he says.

"Ummmm, Bobby, NO. Come back inside."

"Why?"

"If you're well enough to play outside then you're well enough to go to school."

"EXACTLY" is what he replied in an irritated/exasperated voice that strangely sounded just like mine.

Ummm...Bobby? Since you agree with the logic - do you think you could get inside??

It was a LOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG Freakin' Day.

Today, The Squat (Bobby) is home AGAIN - This time on total bed rest. I pointed out to him that there really wasn't much difference sitting and listening to his teacher go on and on about Science or sitting and listening to Rachel Ray go on and on about Cooking. So - too sick for sitting & listening at school, too sick for sitting & listening to Rachel on TV. *sigh* My boy does love a good cooking show....*sigh*

So if he was sick - bed was the place to be and STAY ...... All.Day.Long.

When I checked on him a little while ago he had taken over James two shelves on the bookcase. James' stuff was gone from the bookshelves. Yup. Gone. Yesterday Bobby removed many of James' things from James' bureau and filled the space with Bobby's things. He even took James' stuff off the walls: he removed James' Greek God Ares' Sheild (a big class project) and his balloons and WELCOME JAMES poster (we make a welcome poster and put up on the door with balloons for new foster children - so they see that poster when they arrive at our door with their Social Worker.) So today I reminded him that he SHARED a room and needed to SHARE some space and took Bobby's stuff off James' shelves and put it back on Bobby's shelves. *sigh*

Umm Bobby? Just because you redecorate it - doesn't make it so. *sigh*

Monday Morning Check In

Great weekend in Vermont with family and friends.

Saw our eldest son - Alex. He's been working a lot of hours - so we don't get to see him as much as we'd like. It was so nice just to go for a drive to the lakes and talk. We did our usual Saturday trip to the animal shelter to see the cats and dogs and offer our volunteer services. After, we went to the hardware store and had ice cream for lunch. Alm*nd J*y Ice Cream. Yummers. What a bad mom I am. Yeah, you read that right...the ice cream shop is a part of the hardware store. One stop shopping. I so love Vermont.

Saturday dinner at Cindy and Patty's house..yumm. Hot dogs and kielbasa on the fire pit. Patty's famous strawberry and spinach salad. Marshmallows count as a vegetable -right??? I know for sure that M*ke's Hard Lemonade counts as a fruit.

It was music Sunday at Church with the Bell Choir, piano solos, contemporary music group and traditional choir. A beautiful way to anchor the week.

Spent the afternoon at the Lake with Cindy and Patty and their wonderful beasties, Mac and Shanti. The boys played in the water with the dogs and the grown-ups actually got to hang out and RELAX. Blissssssss.

The baby will probably reunify with teen Bio-Mom at the end of next week. Visit this past Friday where I did some "parent-training" with her and her new Foster-Mom, another visit today, an overnight at the end of the week, and more next week. Bio-Mom has settled into her new therapeutic foster home in the middle of nowhere and likes her new school. New Foster Mom is Okay with taking both teen Bio-Mom AND Baby. God Bless her...In fact God Bless em all....PHEW.

When this little guy goes home, the Other Mother and I hope to take a break from babies so we can catch up on our sleep. But you know what that means in our house. Maybe a day will go by before we get another call from the Division of Family Services. Sad that there are so many families in crisis. Glad we can be there to be part of their support system.

I'm not packing away the baby things just yet.....

Recognition

On Sunday we were recognized by the Division of Family Services at a foster/adoption brunch. The event filled the ballroom of a landmark hotel in the middle of our humble New England State. It was quite a crowd: Social workers, Supervisors, politicians, and guests of about 40 families from DFS Offices throughout the state -each selected within their local Office from nominations from families and Social Workers. Cool.

We were pretty surprised to be notified that we would be honored. I think we just do what we do. Nothing special; just everyday living and raising other people's kids with a team of twenty scrutinizing our every move. Just like many of the wonderful foster and adoptive families we know. Just doing what we do.

It was very nice. Yummy food, good conversation, longggggggg speeches. Several talented foster/adoptive children performed. There was a spiffy little biography/write up about us, we were given a formal citation with our names on it signed by the governor, a bottle of wine and lovely orchid corsages! We even won a raffle prize of a certificate for an overnight stay and breakfast at a fancy-schmancy metropolitan area hotel. Heck. We might even use it!

A lovely day. The Brunch allowed me much appreciated grown-up time (translated = child and baby-free time) with The Other Mother.

The best partof the day: The babysitter reported the boys played well, the baby slept, the police were not called and none of our children ran away!!!!

Above we are with our Family Social Worker. Below The Other Mother is flanked by our adoption worker, affectionatly known as "The Stork".

Pharaoh and Cal At Dinner

Cal, Nana, Bio Mom and and an Egyptian Pharaoh came to dinner Tuesday night. It was wonderful to see them all. We really enjoyed sitting at the table with Cal's Mom listening to stories and comparing "notes". Cal looked good, but from the stories Mom told, he could use a little behavioral "tune up" and some reminders on not taking advantage of his Mom. I was so proud of the lovely blessing Cal gave when saying Grace. I was worried he'd be shy or not want to look like a dork in front of James or his Mom- but my boy stepped up!!!! It was good for James to see.

Nana and Mom and Cal brought us 3 Helium Balloons that said CONGRATULATIONS (for our Foster Parent Award that we received on Sunday) and a yummy Ed*ble Arr*ngement for dessert. Very sweet of them.

Cal and James instantly hit it off and were fist knocking, shoulder bumping and hi-fiving within minutes of meeting. Sanjeet was over and Cal was thrilled to see him as they used to play together when Cal lived here. The three boys stood in the front yard, spitting and laughing and posturing like three baby roosters.

Bobby was inside making a costume for the Egypt video he and some classmates are doing for school. All I know is Bobby is an Egyptian Pharoah and will be poisoned and somehow time travel to the Revolutionary war. He came home with two yards of taupe silk shantung fabric from his teacher (an old curtain?) and asked me for scotch tape and safety pins. I cringed thinking about the impending meltdown when the costume didn't work out, but let him tape his curtain while we cooked dinner and visited with our guests.

I was uncomfortable with the striking contrast between the three typical, rough and tumble boys and Bobby. James was reprimanded for throwing a stick when he ran out of soccer balls to whip at Sanjeet and Cal in a rough game of Dodge Ball. Bobby, on the other hand, is inside wearing beads and pinning his fabric and is...*sigh*...is just who he is. I need to relax and be a little less homophobic about how he expresses himself. I just wish, sometimes, he'd express himself a little less flamboyantly. Really.

Speaking of....I do believe my boy has a talent... note the safety pins, star shaped tucks, decorative fabric sash and train! Tres chic. He did this all.by.himself!


The boys laughed and teased Bobby a little and I quickly sprang to his defense. "Don't laugh! - this is what Calv*n Kl*en was doing when he was 12 and now he's a billionaire". That slowed their roll.

Dinner was good and dessert even better. The conversation was easy and relaxed. It was nice having a table-full at dinner time. We said our goodnights to Nana, Mom and Cal and reminded them Cal was welcome back for an overnight or visit or if Mom needed respite. Mom smiled and said "How's Friday???".

Activists, We are Not

When Alex was in Elementary school it was obvious that the next seven years of school was going to be H*LL, Oh! I meant a BIG CHALLENGE. His ADHD, impulsivity and undiagnosed learning disabilities made school a dificult place for Alex to succeed. Because he was cute, verbal, social and charming the teachers passed him along, year after year, without basic skills. Middle school, with it's many social distractions and demands for quality and quantity of work, terrified us all.

His Bio-Dad Brian, The Other Mother and I looked into a small Christian School in our progresive New England multiculturally diverse community. We had heard and witnessed this school do amazing work with kids that weren't fitting into regular education. We toured and met with the faculty and attended an open house. Then we realized that their church and school teachings were loud and clear on not supporting our family: divorced hetero Dad/2 lesbian Moms/all with democratic leanings! GASP. Also, at least one of the three parents would be required to frequently participate in church/school life. Ohhhhhhhh. It wasn't just about paying the big tuition bill.....

We quickly recognized that THIS was not the school for our kid. He shouldn't have to be ashamed of his parents and who he was. So we kept him in public school, where it WAS a struggle, where he did NOT succeed and school was not the positive experience it could have been - but where ALL KINDS OF FAMILIES attended and he was accepted.

When Alex was seven or eight we talked about him joining and benefiting from the Boy Scouts but quickly decided that because we were lesbian Moms, our status would/should exclude Alex from participating in Scouts becaseu of Scouts' positon on homosexuality.

One Sunday at dinner, The Other Mother's Mother said "He could join. Well, no one has to know..." Really? We could just hide our relationship and Alex could just lie about his family? He could pretend he didn't have two Moms AND a Dad???? Ummmm. I don't think so.

But we didn't fight the system, argue for admission, fight the policy, wave our banner high, protest the injustice..... We just didn't join where we weren't wanted.

It's shameful and hard to admit this publicly.

I am many things, but an activist, I'm not.

OK. I usually try to leave religion and politics out of my blog, but somehow this situation I have read about on CNN just doesn't sound right, doesn't seem fair. Yet, I have mixed feelings about this because of our own decision not to go where we weren't wanted....

Any thoughts?

Return To Sender

Return To Sender. Address unknown. As part of our open adoption agreement, I write to Bobby's Bio Mom every six months. November and May to be exact. USPS tracking says my May package (letter, assortment of art work and photos) is on its way back to me. Moved. No forwarding address.

The sad reality is that Bio-Mom is often homeless and bounces around from place to place. For a few weeks last year she was living in the homeless shelter less than a mile from my house. Imagine my surprise, as her home town is more than an hour away. I would see her walking to and from the library as I drove the well worn route to do my daily errands. In fact that is the first place I ran into her - when I was on an errand at the library. While I was on the computers, a woman was crocheting a striped blanket which was spread all over the large library table. There was something familiar about her. Then it dawned on me: Bobby's Mom. I had met her just once at a meeting when we only had Bobby's sister living with us in foster care.

I just don't have it in me to give the letter to the (former) Social Worker and have her be go-between in the on going drama. With Bobby disclosing specifics about his past abuse and waiting to hear back from the D.A.'s Office on criminal proceedings, I am inclined to just let the package sit in a drawer until it is time to write again in November. Our Adoption Agreement says she can write in response to our 2 letters (May and November) and also at Bobby's birthday (November), Christmas (December) and Easter (March or April).

So for now, there isn't required contact until November. Maybe his Bio-siblings, who see Bio-Mom monthly, won't get involved in passing letters. Maybe the former Social Worker will stay out of it and not pass letters like she usually does. Maybe this will give Bobby some time to process his memories and heal. Maybe his Bio-Mom will get her act together and get a PO Box or an address. Maybe I'll getover my anger and resentment for the hundreds of ways she abused, neglected and damaged our son.

Maybe six months won't be enough.

Hard in The Yard - Spinning Plates

First: A disclaimer: Please be advised you may be shocked and offended, but probably amused by the following post.

The Other Mother has been working hard in the yard. Gardens have been weeded, mulch spread, pond skimmed, weeds banished, rocks hauled, shrubs and flowers planted. That kinda hard. At the end of the day she is sore and achy. I know she is feeling the day (and her years) in her bones.

As she says "When am I gonna realize I'm not 50 anymore?"

I, too, was waddling and creaking by the end of the evening. She says "What are you hurting from - a hard day of sitting?"

True. I didn't do anything physical - yet my knees crunched and hip sockets creaked when I carried the baby and slowly climbed the stairs to bed.

Getting ready for sleep, we complained about our aching muscles and creaky bones and the the physical reminders of what we can no longer easily do because of aging.

So...It is Saturday Night, and we are an old married couple and welllllll...you know what I was thinking...Why not???? So I innocently tested the waters and asked my spouse if there were any acts she still felt capable of performing.....(hint, hint)

She smiled and looked me square in the eye and said "I can still spin plates"




I burst out laughing.

And that, dear readers is why I LOVE, Love, love that woman.

She Made It

Oldest daughter Erica (the one that calls us "Moms") made it to Las Vegas this week with the fiance in one piece...well the fiance is one piece....the relationship is another story. Driving cross country with someone you are in a solid relationship with is taxing enough...

I am hoping it all works out and she enjoys her adventure out West. If it doesn't work out, at least she knows there is a fallback plan. She has our phone number and a small bank account with a former foster parent that could get her half-way home.

I'll take it that things are going well when we don't hear from her for a stretch.

She is a feisty survivor and I am proud to be one of her many, many Mamas.

Taking A Bubble Bath In Testosterone

The neighbor has been over twice to just check in - make sure we are OK with one another. Make peace. All is well...Bobby has been there most of the afternoon playing with the kids and James has been hanging with me. We did errands together before Bobby got home from school. We went for a milkshake. We talked. We are holding James near and dear to help him make better choices.

After dinner, when Bobby went next door to watch a movie, we had a chat with James. Explained to him his behavior is telling us he needs us to be closer to him - to have our eyes on him - to help him make better choices. That when left alone or out of sight he has a hard time making good decisions. That we care about him and want to give him the tools to make good choices and be more independent. That right now it is our job to help guide him and raise him up to be a good man. To do any less for him would be unacceptable- he deserves so much better. We acknowledged he must miss his Mom and his family, but that we want him to stay and we were not going to give up on him. He cried.

Oh - did I tell you we are among 25 families being recognized by the state at a formal Foster Parent brunch in the central part of our humble New England State on Sunday. I guess we were nominated by several social workers... Cool - huh? Except it begs the question - what to do with James....

Spoke to James' Social Worker today about our concerns that he is struggling and conflicted and I presented 3 plans for Sunday:
1. We split: one Mom goes to the event, the other mom stays with the kids. (Not a good option, we should both go)
2 We send James to an experienced foster home for the day and Bobby and the baby get the sitter. (Gives James he impression he has more power than he does and diminishes the authority of the sitter)
3.The game plan we are going with is: He stays with the babysitter in the living room, kitchen or his bedroom until we are back home from the event. Bobby has permission to play indoors, outdoors or nextdoor...But James must stay in eye sight of the sitter. (We get to go together to the event, it empowers the sitter, gives James an opportunity for a good choice...)

So in the meantime - we are attached at the hip...He and the Other Mother went to Walm*rt and got some mulch and dog food, laundry soap, cat litter...all the big things that are difficult to get when lugging a baby in a carseat....Gave them some serious bonding time and they picked up some movies from the $5 bin....

Which is why we are bonding by watching The Longest Yard together...If you haven't seen it, its a football/prison/guy bonding flick...ummmm, kinda like taking a bubble bath in testosterone.

Lone Tree

A mother is likened unto a mountain spring that nourishes the tree at its root, but one who mothers another's child is likened unto a water that rises into a cloud and goes a long distance to nourish a lone tree in the desert.
- Talmud

Oh For Crying Out Loud

Today while the early Intervention team was at the house assessing the baby for services, the middle school principal called re: James' and his continued bullying of another child. He was suspended recently for a day for pushing the same kid out of a chair and dumping milk on his head. Bullying is a hot button issue in our humble area of New England where in the past year two young children have taken their own lives in response to excessive bullying.

James friend Sanjeet comes over to play. They were reminded NOT to have wrestling matches or pillow fights in the family room (an on-going problem), that if they want to wrestle, they need to do it OUTSIDE. So, of course, within 5 minutes, I must excuse myself from the Early Intervention Intake and go to the family room where I find James Standing on the fine upholstered chair with a pillow in mid swing and Sanjeet crouched, ready to spring in response. OUT>SIDE>NOW>BOYS!!!!!!!

Ten minutes of relative peace and quiet. Well, if you don't count the crying baby or both dogs barking at James saying goodbye to Sanjeet in the driveway... The Team finishes and leaves.

4:30 pm The sitter comes to watch James while I take Bobby and the baby to Bobby's weekly therapy appointment- The baby is totally crashed (having been poked and prodded and assessed by the Early Intervention Team). I wind up telling James the sports yard is off limits and he needs to play where we can see him. I collect Bobby and because we are late for therapy, I leave the sleeping baby AND James with the sitter for the HALF HOUR until The Other Mother gets home.....A HALF HOUR PEOPLE!!!!! What could happen???? Welllllll...

In that half hour, James decided to run away AGAIN. The Other Mother was minutes from the house when the sitter called in tears because James was GONE. We called the police and let them come...James was hiding in the woods (with the hungry bear...though I think the Bear was probably more scared being in the woods with the volatile 13 year old...) James told the cops he "needed a little space". He admitted last time the cops were here he was purposely hiding - but this time he just needed space........Okay.....

I get home from therapy. We have dinner. The Other Mother and I try to come up with a game plan...We decide we'll speak with James tomorrow AFTER talking to the Social Worker.

Wait, this gets better: After dinner James asks when Sanjeet can sleep over. HUH??? You two can't be left for 5 minutes alone...a sleepover isn't happening anytime soon.

Anyhow...I am freakin' exhausted. I've lost my sense of humor and I just want an issue free day....

Don’t laugh. I can dream; can't I????

Check It Out

Did I tell you The Other Mother has a blog? Check it out here.

A Visitor

So this morning I call the neighbors to warn them that a juvenille BEAR is in our yard. This is the neighborly thing to do since they are often outside gardening. No answer. I leave a message.

Twenty minutes later I get a call from them. "I was exercising and didn't hear exactly what you said so I didn't pick up. You think the next time you could just say BEAR and not JUVENILLE BEAR..."

Ah sure - No problem.....

Why is it helpful to know it is a juvenille bear? Have you ever gotten yourself between a Mama Bear and her cubs? the Other Mother has. Not even a little bit pretty. Or safe. Have you ever been around an old jaded been-there-done-that-you-can't-scare-me older bear????? Yeah, he isn't going Anywhere...nope. A juvenille Bear is both stupid and easily frightened away with a loud voice and a handclap or two.  So I thought it was useful info. Or not.

That Would Be A Tragedy

We have only been foster Mommas twenty times. That may seem like a big number, but the reality is that many of our fostering friends have parented over one hundred children. Still, when a child comes in our home, it is a clean parenting slate, a new kid, our fresh hearts waiting to welcome them. We are excited and nervous - not knowing what they'll be like, how they will fit in our family, how we will meet their needs, how we can make them confortable and feel welcome.

Some of our well meaning friends and colleagues say things like "Oh, I could never do what you do, my heart would just break" or "I don't know how you do it, I'd want to keep them all". Well, the truth is that our hearts do break and some kids you do want to keep forever. How could The Other Mother and I not not love these kids, just to avoid having our hearts broken?

Sometimes kids bring BIG behavior and BIG vibes that make it a challenge to parent them and an even greater challenge to embrace them. But we do it the best we can: for a week, a year, a month. However much time they are with us.

When a child leaves our home, I worry for their future. I worry how their fractured past and dysfunctional families will impact their future. I wonder if the time in our home being part of our crazy family will make a difference. I try and imagine what they will be like in 5 years, 10 years, or as adults. For us, they are often "frozen in time" at the age they were when they lived with us.

So, yes, our hearts do break. Fairly regularly. Each time I think it will be easier. It isn't. My heart breaks and it heals - and I get over it. Sometimes right away and sometimes not so much.

Certain kids just have a way of sticking to your heart. I have come to accept that I have very little control over who will steal my heart. It isn't always who you'd think. We had a child in our home with some pretty unpleasant behaviors, emerging mental illness, trouble with social adjustment and violence at school and authority issues. You'd think we couldn't wait until this kid left. Not so. We'd take this child back in a heartbeat. Why? Damned if I know. We just loved this kid.

I am still mourning the loss of Baby Dee even though I speak to her Mom weekly and have seen them three or four times since she went home the beginning of April. There is an emptiness and sadness I didn't expect to feel.

But imagine the poor child who lives in a foster home, leaves a home and no one grieves their passing, misses their presence, mourns thier loss. Imagine, no one's heart breaks for them when they are gone.

Now, that would be a tragedy.

Thwarted

Last night, on impulse, I bought a bottle of Chardonnay at the grocery. I'm thinking "a nice glass of wine with dinner for Mothers' Day...."

Sadly, the universe has other plans.

Bobby is working on his DARE essay this morning. DARE is an anti-drug & alcohol education program in the schools. So, this morning, when I came downstairs Bobby was already working on his DARE Essay and I was greeted with "Do you know that alcohol can destroy every part of your body?

Ummmm. Yeah, that's why I bought some.

An Early Happy Mother's Day

The Other Mother let me sleep until 10:30 this morning. Yup. 10:30. If it wasn't for the telephone solicitaton call from Special Olmpics, I'd still be sleeping. One possible explanation: The Baby Boy (BB) has us so sleep deprived, we now have our days mixed up and she thinks today is Mothers' Day. (Plural possessive in our house!)

OK, that is a possible explanation - but not probable.

The real reason is The Other Mother is an amazing, caring, selfless partner and mother and knows I have been "off" and needed to catch up on some serious sleep. I love, Love, LOVE that woman.

I am so lucky to be her spouse and to be parenting children with her for the past 19 years. Happy Early Mothers' Day.

Friday Fragments

Erica, driving from our humble New England State to Las Vegas, texted us as she passed through Pennsylvania and finally landed for sleep in Tennessee. She is scared and excited all at once. Nice that she is reaching out to us as she travels afar.

Our other older foster daughter, 21, pregnant and "engaged" called yesterday on the phone and I didn't pick up...BAD MOMMY...I just was not emotionally in a space to support/encourage/coach/decipher whatever daily drama she was dishing out...and there ususally is drama. My big guess is she got word Erica was moving to Las Vegas and wanted the dirt.

The baby boy's goal of reunification has been changed. He was to have been returned to bio teen Mom yesterday after court - but she did several somethings that got her suspended from an alternative school (how do you do that?) and she is not to have unsupervised time with the baby and has been moved from her pregnant and parenting teen program to a therapeutic foster home about an hour away in the middle of nowhere....Hmmmmm. I guess I better go buy some more 3-6 and 6-9 month clothes as he has outgrown his newborn clothes.....

CAL and Nana and Bio Mom are coming to dinner Tuesday. I wonder if he'll bring Frank???? (the imaginary man that lived in his closet that he would hallucinate during times of stress...)

AK called (he heard CAL was coming to dinner as they go to the same regional school) and wanted to tag along. I told hin to check with his Social Worker and Foster Family - but could visit anytime. He had good news that The Division of Family Services has this new search engine thing and they found his Bio Dad - AFTER FOURTEEN YEARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! They have cooresponded, exchanged pics, and the Division is paying for a plane ticket for him to fly to the far-away state on the West Coast for a one week visit this summer........Great News is that he also has grandparents and an uncle in a neighboring New England State...which is very important as he moves forward as Bio-Mom (who faked cancer to put her kids in foster care) has not shown for a visit since he left our home several months ago ....very, very sad.

Sending His Best Angels

It has been a challenging week here. I don't even know how to blog about it.
Truly. I have been bleak and tired and sad and just Blah...

Yesterday, while heading out to do errands, I stopped to open my mail at the bottom of the driveway and promptly burst in to tears (which rapidly turn to big messy sobs) all because a very kind Mommy sent me coffee beans.

Well, the tears were from many things -but mostly because it meant I am not alone, that I was being "loved on" by another Mommy who gets it and that it meant even when I am feeling alone, I am part of COMMUNITY (even if it is not the next-door neighbor variety of community), and that God lets us know that even when he is busy, he sends his best angels to watch over us and get us through the day....

Do you think you could be an Angel? Yesterday was proof it doesn't take much to turn a professionally trained Mama into a sobbing puddle of mush.....So if you feel like the Angels are calling you to join their ranks...stop by the Mom-Match-Up here and get your wings on.

Vegas Baby

My oldest girl, Erica, 23, is spending the day with me tomorrow. Of all of our kids (including our bio son Alex) she is the only one who calls us Mom. She speaks of us in the plural. As in "Hi Moms". She calls us both Mom. As in "Mom, what time will Mom be home?" It's sweet. She calls her Bio-Mom by her first name - but calls us her Moms.

She and her fiance (of almost a year) are moving to Las Vegas on Thursday. Vegas? Why?? I have no idea why - and I am confident they don't know either. I'm not going to ask. I am just going to hug her and wish her well. I vaguely remember being young and in love and prone to making bad decisions on a regular basis. Actually, I still make bad decisons on a regular basis, I am just older and a lot more tired.

"Erica" moved in with us at the end of junior year in high school and stayed a year and a half. We helped her do the college-apartment-car-semi-indpendent-young-adult thing. A few years ago we bought her a car for several thousand dollars with the understanding she'd make small monthly payments to pay us back. A few hundred dollars towards her car and she fizzled out. We didn't nag or even remind her. We had kept the title to the car and figured sooner or later she'd have to deal with the fact she had not paid for her car and blew off a loan. Accepting personal responsibility for her actions is far more important than being paid back a few thousand. Every six months or so she'll call, leave the same message on the answering machine and say "Hi Moms. I's me, Erica. I was wondering if I can have the title to the car. Give me a call", and then we don't hear back from her for a few more months.

So this week she calls and there is a twist. First. I am home during the day now and actually answer the phone...which totally threw her off. This time she asks if there is anyway she can work off what she owes so she can have the title because they are moving to Las Vegas on Thursday. I say sure. Really? Give me a day helping me clean the basement or garage or some household projects and then the title is yours. Really? Really. Cool.

So tomorrow we'll do a project or two in the morning, have a little lunch, work on a project or two in the afternoon, maybe clean the carpet in the finished basement

a trip to the safe deposit box at the bank

and have some dinner.

Why didn't I think of this earlier?????