Brain Held Hostage, Day Three

I'm on the third day of a splitting, migrainy sort of headache. Today the two littles are screeching, running around, and getting on every ragged, ouchy nerve ending I own.

Yesterday every single one of the six of them had either a shouting, crying, or stomping fit (there was an eye-rolling "whatever" fit too but that one didn't hurt my head).

Fortunately, the little tantrums are short-lived these days. My aching head rejoices.

Analyze This (Not Really)

Last night I had a series of dreams in which it seems some impending doom awaited me and then the opposite happened. Maybe I've had too many frappuccinos or I worry too much about things that will probably never happen or who knows what.

First I dreamt that Squeaker's bus driver wanted to talk to me. Of course I was apprehensive knowing it had to be a bad report. It turned he wanted to say how much he enjoyed having her on the bus. I don't think that would actually happen in reality.

Next I dreamt that Ana had created an account book for our household expenses. In the dream I knew that when I looked at it we would be just barely squeaking by. In fact the account book showed quite a tidy surplus. That doesn't actually happen in reality either.

Then I dreamt that we were in an open market in a foreign country and I felt panicked because Squeaker had wandered off and I didn't know where to find her. I turned around and she was right behind me. Actually, the girl didn't look like Squeaker and was a bit younger but in the dream she was Squeaker and she wasn't missing so I guess it turned out all right. Dreams are weird that way.

Finally, I dreamt that I was trapped in an abandoned, haunted high school. I had to go down some steep stairs and a slippery chute to the basement in order to get something I needed to get out of the building. Strange and eerie noises were coming from the basement. Surely a freaky, nightmarish monster of some sort. When I got to the bottom I found it was only a friendly, talking black lab looking for someone to throw his tennis ball. That actually has never happened in reality.

Not to me anyway.

Heartbreaking News

Yesterday the five year old daughter of Christian recording artist Steven Curtis Chapman was killed when she was accidentally struck by an SUV in the driveway of their home.

Maria was one of three daughters the Chapmans adopted from China. They also have three children by birth. Steven Curtis and Mary Beth Chapman founded Shaohannah's Hope following the adoption of their first daughter to reach the church with God's call to care for orphans. They are amazing people who clearly love their children and have a heart for kids who have no family of their own.

We have long been fans of Steven's music and even more so as he became such a huge advocate for adoption both in his career and personal life.

We are heartbroken for them. I can't imagine the pain they are going through at this terrible loss. Please pray for the entire Chapman family.

Maria and her Daddy



With Hope
By Steven Curtis Chapman on his 1999 Speechless cd.

This is not at all how
We thought it was supposed to be
We had so many plans for you
We had so many dreams
And now you've gone away
And left us with the memories of your smile
And nothing we can say
And nothing we can do
Can take away the pain
The pain of losing you, but ...

We can cry with hope
We can say goodbye with hope
'Cause we know our goodbye is not the end, oh no
And we can grieve with hope
'Cause we believe with hope
(There's a place by God's grace)
There's a place where we'll see your face again
We'll see your face again

And never have I known
Anything so hard to understand
And never have I questioned more
The wisdom of God's plan
But through the cloud of tears
I see the Father's smile and say well done
And I imagine you
Where you wanted most to be
Seeing all your dreams come true
'Cause now you're home
And now you're free, and ...

We have this hope as an anchor
'Cause we believe that everything
God promised us is true, so ...

We wait with hope
And we ache with hope
We hold on with hope
We let go with hope

Car-medy of Errors

After many months one of the broken cars is back in action, so today I had to get it smogged in order to register it.

Smog Place #1: Had a sign stating "WE TEST ALL VEHICLES!". That looked promising.

Smog place guy: What kind of Ford is it?
Me: It's an Expedition.
Smog place guy: We can't test Expeditions.
Me: (To self: HUH?)

Smog Place #2: Right next to Smog Place #1 with a shared parking lot. That looked promising.

Me: Can you test an Expedition?
Smog place guy: We can but we're not able to now.
Me: (To self: HUH?)
Ana: So that means you can't?

Smog Place #3: It's in the next town, but it's open. That looked promising.

Me: Can you test an Expedition?
Smog place guy: I can do that. Pull it up here.

5 minutes later with car up on ramp thingy.
Smog place guy: It's out of gas.

10 minutes later after they roll it off the ramp thingy, I put in gas, and it's back on the ramp thingy.
Smog place guy: There's another problem.
Me: Of couse there is.

My car passed but my gas cap didn't pass. My gas cap has never not passed. I didn't even know it had to pass or not pass. Twenty dollars later the new cap passed so it wasn't as dire as it sounded.

10 minutes later paying at Smog Place #3.
Smog place guy: The credit card machine isn't connecting.
Me: Some days are like that.
Me: (Adding to self: Even in Australia.)

Screecher

I guess that should be Squeaker's new nickname. I got a call yet again from the school transportation department supervisor. It seems that now she has taken to screaming and screeching "like a horror movie" while on the bus.

Apparently, and understandably so, this is frazzling the nerves of the older gentleman who drives the special ed bus as the supervisor said they are "handling it" with the students and the bus driver. Whatever that means.

It's humorous that when I get calls from Squeaker's school or the transportation department and they ask me if I can talk to her or somehow get her to stop the (fill in the blank) behavior, they often preface it with, "If there's any way....". So far there is no to stop certain actions since apparently to her the misbehavior is worth the consequence.

Life on the Rollercoaster

Drama Boy and Sparky's mom has petitioned the court to have the boys returned to her custody continuing a 4 year pattern of starting reunification services and ending with incarceration. Four years of broken promises and high hopes that come crashing back down to earth resulting in even more rejection, anger and emotional trauma.

Granted, at the moment she is doing better than she ever has. She completed a drug treatment program (ordered by criminal court as part of her probation) and currently has housing (albeit at a clean-and-sober living program) however her instability has been evident in her increasing hostility, emotional manipulation and irrational accusations.

We have court next week and I really don't know how this is going to go but I know it's not going to be pretty. All I can do is put my boys in God's hands and keep loving them for all the days that He gives us.

Back Fence Love

Overheard between The Boss from the upstairs back bedroom and little neighbor girl in her back yard:

(Both yelling)
Her: What's your name?
Him: My name is N---!
Her: I love you!
Him. Thanks!

And so it begins.

Aggravation

My frustration level has been too high for everyone's comfort this week.

I work from home, only part time right now, but it is still stressful because the the littles have to be watched every second.

Money is tight because of screw-ups with reimbursement checks and an invoice that my boss didn't get sent in on time. Of course that means that all of the cars need expensive work. Ana's van got a new fuel pump and she has to take it for new tires. One of my cars has been in the shop several times for overheating. We've replaced the water pump and radiator and now it looks like we have to repair a head gasket. Not sure if we'll be fixing that one or not yet. The other larger SUV needs a major overhaul after a part broke and trashed the AC system. Fortunately, my parents are helping on that one but we're down to one car again and have a teenager coming for respite so will miss church again because we can't fit in the remaining car. It's a conspiracy, I swear it is. We have three cars and I really think they send out memos that it's time for them all to break down.

Squeaker came through the door after school yesterday and stood with the door open too long allowing our "bad" dog to escape. When I made my usual (non-heated) remark, "We have dogs, you know" she became rude and snotsy to the point that I sent her upstairs to her room. After continued snarky comments and door slamming from her, my response was no longer un-heated. Shortly after she came downstairs and I told her to head back up. Immediately flaring she said "I'm CALM now". Too bad. I'm not. Did I mention my frustration level is extremely high? More snark and slams. As long as it's upstairs.

She's very moody this week and with feelings towards me running hot/cold in a matter of minutes. I'm just not switching with her that quickly. She found out her older sister is pregnant and will be getting married soon. She hasn't seen her since she was 10 and her sister was in high school so it's a difficult adjustment to make.

The cell phone bill is a whacking huge one again. Teens and cell phones don't always mix.

Sparky and Drama Boy will be going with their grandma and aunt and various other relatives to Disneyland this weekend. It's nice for everyone to get a break from one another but they usually come back filled with all the big promises made by their family and unhappy with all they think they don't get here.

I'm not an optimist by any stretch but I do know that we'll muddle through and it will all be fine in the end. It's just so dang aggravating until then.

Sex Education

One of the challenges of parenting older adopted and foster kids is that you don't always know where the gaps are. There can be gaps between chronological age and emotional age, gaps in the child's history--sometimes even between what the social workers know and what they actually tell you. There are often educational and developmental gaps due to numerous or sudden moves, neglect, trauma, genetic or organic factors.

And then there is the big communication gap: they don't know what they don't know and you don't know what they don't know until you find out that some important information fell through the cracks.

The other day, Sparky used a word he shouldn't have and then admitted that he didn't even know what it meant. I gave him the definition of the word but first had to give him some information about sex, asking him if any other caregiver had ever talked to him about it before. Nope. All his (mis)information had come from other kids, movies or TV. I gave him the basics...just what I felt was appropriate for his age and the situation. I then told him it wasn't a very good idea to use words when he didn't know the meaning and that he could ask me what any word meant and I would tell him. His response? "Yuk! I don't even want to know!"

Just a few days earlier, Drama Boy had been asking how twins are made. Monica asked him, "Well, do you know how babies are made?" and he said, "You mean you have to do it twice?" When he asked my mom about it later, she tried to explain it this way, "Sometimes one egg will split in two..." he interrupted, "Eggs? You mean we're not mammals?" To everyone's laughter, he bemoaned the fact that he missed "The Movie" at school.

That conversation was about to become too involved for our family barbecue so I assured him that when he asked me later I would explain the entire process. From the beginning.

Empty Pants

My mom came over this morning to help me and Ana in the garden. Before she got here, Ana was out buying groceries and called to see if I thought mom would want a diet coke. I told her I thought she would probably stop for coffee.

When I hung up, the Boss said, "Mom, it's not Starbucks it's Stargate." (DUH implied).

Can you tell what dvds I've been watching lately....and that I'm not a coffee drinker?
_____________

We went to a fast food place after dinner for ice cream which actually turned out to be more like sugar soup. The Boss came barreling down the playground slide holding Drama Boy's jeans with nobody inside them.

It goes without saying that Sparky was up there too. Pantsing is his hobby. But I don't think anybody has lost theirs so completely before. Also, I don't know why the Boss had them. Actually, I don't want to know.

Same Old Same Old

Today the little boys argued and the big boys wrestled until someone ended up crying. Squeaker was late coming downstairs in the morning. Sparky wasn't where he was supposed to be and then left the gate open so the dogs ran away. Drama Boy started playing video games as soon as he walked in the door after school. I had a pounding headache all day and yelled at the the littles for running, screeching, and chasing the dogs. One of the dogs peed on the carpet. Seamonkey peed on the carpet and in his bed. I did five loads of laundry...less than half of what was piled up in the hallway. I washed pans left over from the day before. Somebody drank all my soda while I was upstairs. Somebody didn't rinse their peanut-butter-goo dishes. Seamonkey and the Boss asked for something to eat as soon as they finished lunch. Toilets went unflushed. Chores went undone. Messes were made. Everybody is healthy and safe and asleep in their beds.

Just Another Day

The only thing I wanted for Mother's Day was for no-one to ask me for anything. I didn't want to hear a single sentence start with "Can I...?" or worse "Can you...?" or worse yet "Can you buy me a...?" For the most part, I got what I asked for.

We had a pleasant day after a frantic evening and morning searching for the missing car keys. I found them inside the printer. Don't ask. Not mentioning any names but looking right at THE BOSS.

I had anticipated some acting out from Squeaker because she was working up to it the night before and because my mom and dad arrived today from the east coast. She did pretty well and seemed at ease and not overly performing for attention.

Mother's Day is a toughy that we try to keep as low-key as possible. Drama Boy and Sparky bristle when they think someone is trying to take the place of their birth mom. Squeaker has a hard time getting through the day because she misses her birth mom a lot. Since everything to her is very black and white, missing her birth mom usually means that she is hating me.

Last night, I was talking to her about some self-injuring behavior she was engaged in. She became angry about something I said and ran crying upstairs saying, "MOM would understand!". Knowing her mom and knowing this statement was not true, I asked her later what her mom would do in this situation and she could only answer, "She would beat the crap out of me." Now that is a completely true statement but she almost immediately followed it sobbing "I just miss her!"

I know how much she misses her birth mom. We talk about it a lot. She remembers when her mom was not beating and belittling her that she was playful and fun. It saddens me that she is the only one who wants an ongoing relationship. The last time she called, her birth mother blamed her for everything that had happened then hung up on her. Squeaker was only eleven at the time. Despite it all, she loves her mom and misses her and often wishes that she was never removed from that abusive situation. This constantly comes out in her love/hate relationship with me. In her black and white mind, her mom is either a villian and I am the best mom in the world or her mom is idealized and she tries to punish me for not being her. I understand and, although it frustrates and irritates me, it doesn't hurt me even when she tries to hurt me with it.

It is even more painful for her because she is the only one of my kids repeatedly going through this. The Boss has been with me nearly since his birth and never knew his birth mom. Peaches' mother died and, while she misses her, she remembers her as a loving, caring mom. She has the emotional stability to form new, healthy attachments without all the baggage of having been abused and rejected.

I wish I could change things for Squeaker or do something that could bring her some comfort. Even if that were possible, I'm really not all that good at that kind of thing. So for now all I can do for her on Mother's Day is to hold her while she cries and mourns for her other mom and the old life that she lost.

Operation Backfire is Scrubbed

Squeaker's little guy friend (no boyfriend allowed) crossed the line and got suspended for three days. The middlers are trying to hold furtive gossip sessions about the incident which is impossible in this house since Ana, Peaches, and I have satellite ears when it comes to intercepting inappropriate kid talk. But it was funny to overhear their whispered conversation when Drama Boy exclaimed, "Are you just going to DIE ?" I guess it might be hard for her to go five whole days without seeing her little n-word spewing rebel buddy. Good grief.

Ambition

Squeaker has been trying to get Saturday school. On purpose. My sources say she likes a boy who got Saturday school for slapping another kid. Squeaker is very impressed that he didn't get suspended and is determined to find a way to get the same consequence so she can spend a Saturday with him. Please note that this is a different boy than the one she was hitting and bubblegum-sticking on the bus. Since she prides herself on being "little miss rebel" and somewhat boy crazy, there is a good chance that she will succeed in her goal.

God help us when she gets to high school.

"Get Used to Disappointment"

I stand corrected. My S.C. buddy reminded me of the above Princess Bride quote, suitable for all occasions but certainly apropos of my yard upkeep as of late.

Thanks again, E. I can always count on you to fill in my many gaps.

If at First You Don't Succeed Spend, Spend Again OR A Sucker's Work is Never Done OR "Then I'll Do It Myself", Said the Little Red Hen. And She Did

All three of the above misquotes were said by me or Ana this weekend as we again spent way too much time on the lawn, sweating and sun-burned as the weather took a turn for the "holy-cow-is-it-hot-or-what?". (Okay it was me. Ana did all the heavy work and my contribution was mostly in the form of grumpy comments. Too bad no quotes from Princess Bride were applicable. Always disappointing when we can't work one in.)

Our (ir)regular gardener flaked out and, even though he did great work, he was just too iffy in reliability and other areas anyway. So we paid some other guy to fertilize and seed the lawn.

Here's where the "sucker" part comes in. The fertilizer was too mulchy and was smothering the grass so we've spent hours raking it off our brownish lawn. Of course, the guy does not return phone calls. So this weekend we also re-seeded. I can't believe how much we've babied this grass for it too look so shabby. We've now thrown enough "green" at it that it's got a lot of nerve to be so tan and crunchy (okay, there's the "spend" part). We have now vowed to never hire anybody again to do anything in the yard. (I'm sure you caught that...it's the hen part).

We also got the materials needed to build our garden in the back replacing more pointless grass. The guy at the home fix-it store complained that we gave him a work out cutting all those boards. They are kind of heavy. I've been schlepping them around the yard for a few days now. I have more than half of the beds built and we all are eagerly looking forward to growing our own food with the help of the square-foot gardener and our buddy from South Carolina who Amazoned the book to us. (Thanks, E!)

I promise, no more snivelling about the lawn and I will seriously look into cutting back on use of parentheses in future posts.

Not a Bad Day

Sparky is back in school today following two days of doctor-ordered bed rest. It's a good thing, too. If I have to hear Alvin and the Chipmunks sing Bad Day one more time, I think I'll go nuts.

He has another doctor's appointment today to determine if the rest of the staples can come out. I doubt this story-line will come to an end here. His leg was looking ooky again when I examined it this morning.

Last night, Drama Boy was saying that he's going to be embarrassed to be out in public with Sparky if he has a big scar on his leg but, of course, Sparky is worried that it won't be impressive enough. Squeaker piped in to say that when they are in high school together ("me as a senior, you as a freshman"), she won't be embarrassed to say she knows him even with a big scar. I told him that it wouldn't even be noticible by then with all the hair. Sparky gave me a sideways look, eyeroll and "ewwww!"