Dripping

The temperature has been in the 90-100 range and our AC decided to take a vacation. We miss it. It didn't even send us a post card.....wish you were here. Yeah, back atcha. We're all drenched by the end of the day but especially on Saturday chore days.

The Boss started his Pre-K homeschool. We do that after lunch so all morning while I am working he asks every few minutes, "Can we do my preschool now? Can {Seamonkey} take a nap now so we can do my preschool?" So far he is learning to use scizzors, hold a pencil correctly, identify letters and numbers (starting with his name and 1-4), recognize sequences and patterns, and is brushing up on counting, the alphabet, and shapes and colors. I had no idea he didn't know the color yellow and he still can't remember the name of it so I have to remind him it's the color of Bob the Builder's hat. His favorite colors are blue, black, and purple and mine are red, brown, and green so I don't think he's even bothered with yellow until now. Wait a second, Bumblebee is yellow.

Yep. I don't know how we missed yellow before now.

We are working on some motor skills too since he is delayed in that area. I hope we don't have to visit the emergency room before he learns to jump on one foot.

Next Stop: The Twilight Zone

In a bizarre turn of events, the judge denied the mother's petition to terminate my guardianship of Sparky and Drama Boy but then ordered increased visitation with a transition schedule to return them to her custody. How does that happen?

My attorney told me this in a "how dumb can you be that you didn't know they were offering a reunification plan" tone of voice as I gaped at him and sputtered my disbelief.

The boys have been in foster care for over four years. That's 2 1/2 years after the manditory deadline for completing a case plan. Not only that, they are in a permanent placement with a legal guardian. As long as parental rights are not terminated, parents can always file a petition claiming "change of circumstances" but, after all this time and all the obvious lies and manipulation...yeah, I'm a little surprised we're now looking at placement in 4 months time.

The social worker had asked me again if I could keep both boys if there was a no contact order (the agency's recommendation) however, now that this is a reunification case, we believe that Sparky's behavior won't allow it. He will move next week. Drama Boy will stay for the time being and start weekly visits and conjoint therapy with his mom.

Now we are called upon to support Drama Boy emotionally during this transition that we so strongly oppose. As for Sparky, it is with supreme sadness and also some relief that we let him go.

It is sadly ironic that the system that tries to prevent attachment issues often is the cause of them and that the result of a child's challenging behavior due to many moves is another move. Yet we must weigh that against the safety of the other children. It is a terrible decision to have to make.

Updating Post Below

Seamonkey told me there was a bad guy upstairs. It's either a monster, a spider, or a bad guy all the time. I told him there wasn't and went upstairs to show him it was okay. As I rounded the corner in the hall, I saw a dark shadow moving at the crack at the bottom of the door. Heart-lurch time again. Turned out I had closed Cooper in the girls room when I shut all the upstairs doors. Lousy dog. Ana and I were going to go to a scary movie this weekend but now I'm rethinking that plan. What a twinkie.

I came downstairs to find The Boss "reading" a book to Seamonkey in the big squashy chair. Awwwwwwww....too cute. I snapped a picture and texted it to Peaches.

About thirty seconds later Seamonkey tried to rip the book out of The Boss' hands. He responded by shouting, "Do you want me to bite you?" Good feeling gone.

The Boss is being completely rude and obstinate today. He's been in time-out three times already and has kept up a constant stream of muttering.

Ana just called again with another update from court. Hard to believe it can get worse and yet it does. They are actually making this a reunification case whether the guardianship stays in affect or not. Four years of nothing from mom then she gets out of prison and into a rehab program for six-months and, presto-bango, here's your kids back. Un-stinkin-believable.

Just not feeling into being productive today. Let's try this one in the iPod.

Ramble-Brain and Other Serious Conditions

I could never live alone because I'd have no one to rant to. Every time Ana and I have lived apart we would have hours long "debrief" calls every night so we could blow off all the irritations of the day and figure out how to turn them into funny stories for later.

I'm home alone with the littles as I was all yesterday morning too. I should be working in between sorting out squabbles, getting more toys down, changing laundry loads, and letting the dogs in and out but I can't quite seem to concentrate. I keep wandering around the house turning off lights and fans and closing blinds against the increasing heat.

When I came back from dropping Drama Boy at school I noticed the front window was open. A perfect invitation for someone to crawl right in when we are gone. I closed the window, closed the blinds, turned off the fan, let in the dogs and got to work. About twenty minutes later I heard a door creak upstairs. I got that ouchy heart lurching feeling that I got once when Ana and I walked in on a burglar still in our home. I saw the kicked in back door and realized she had just gone upstairs where the guy was still lurking. Fortunately this time it was just doors flapping in the wind of open windows and half a dozen fans left on by the kids. Sodapop did take the opportunity to follow me up the stairs and pee right where I was sure to step in it. Lousy dog.

Ana just called from court and things are not going well. The agency was going to request no contact with the boys' mom because of all the recent manipulation and the detrimenal affect it has had on them. Apparently that is not going to fly. We agreed we can keep Drama Boy and consider keeping Sparky (with lots of wrap-around services and therapy) but only if a no contact order was granted. We just cannot put the rest of our family at risk. Their mom is the most hateful and spiteful we've ever come across with all the kids we've had...and we've had some pretty gnarly parents and plenty of false accusations before. DB is so desperate to stay and it's going to be so difficult for everybody no matter how it works out. This is definitely one of the more screwed up, messy, painful cases we have gone through and these boys are sure to suffer no matter what is decided today. What a disaster.

Good Night

We had a semi-eventful night last night but it still ended fairly early and reasonably quietly which is about as good as we can ask for.

Sparky went to a friend's house coming home after dark again, a couple of hours late wearing swim trunks and dripping water around the kitchen. Ana told him to take a shower and get ready for bed which he did without drama and when I went later to check on him he was asleep before bedtime.

Due in part to Sparky's tardy return, dinner was late and some of the kids were dragging by the time it was on the table. The little boys were wildly jumping and wrestling around the entire downstairs before I could get them into the shower where they continued to wildly jump and wrestle.

I sent Squeaker upstairs for a shower while Drama Boy took his downstairs. Half an hour later when Squeaker had not emerged, I went up to check. She was not yet showered but laying on the floor listening to the radio and reading. I asked why she hadn't gotten a shower. She said (well, whined but I'm trying to be nice) that someone was in there already. I peeked in the big boys' room and saw Sparky in bed. Lucky and The Boss were on my heels and everyone else was downstairs. Then she said (or rather, whined) that the bathroom door was locked and she couldn't get in. The Boss walked over, turned the knob, and informed "It's OPEN!". He's helpful like that.

Since it was already after bedtime, I told Squeaker to get ready for bed without a shower and Lucky to get her shower. Squeaker whined (actually, snarled/slammed/stomped...but I'm trying to be nice). After I bathed the littles and put them to bed, I told her to come down for meds. She said rather snottily, "I don't think I want to." When I requested again, she complied. That's a pretty major accomplishment as she used to routinely refuse meds whenever she was angry.

As I got her meds she said over and over again, "What's the last name on those med bottles?" until I finally told her I wasn't going to play those silly games with her. She thinks she can hurt my feelings by saying she didn't want to be adopted. Nope. It's petty enough to irritate my tough hide but does not pierce at all.

Drama Boy again begged to stay. He's panicking at the thought of having to leave this week and asked Ana to go to court on Thursday and tell them that he really does want to live here. Ana told him that his attorney is the one who represents him in court and allowed him to place a call to her voicemail. Only it was the wrong number so he then pleaded his case three times to a total stranger. He managed to find the humor in it as did Ana and Stickers who couldn't figure out why he said the same thing three times in succession with increasing emphasis.

I asked Stickers if all the drama was better in real life or on the blog and she said, "On the blog...it's quieter." And I thought it was because I infused it with my warped sense of humor. Oh well.

And that, my friends, is a pretty quiet evening around here.

"God of All Comfort"

Christian recording artist Steven Curtis Chapman was on James Dobson's Focus on the Family radio broadcast over the last three days talking about the death of his five-year-old daughter, adopted from China. Amazing and powerful interview. Go here and click on Daily Broadcast to listen.

"Oh, My"

A few of our kids pride themselves on their cursing prowess and use words to try to shock when they are angry. We are easily annoyed but not easily shocked. Once, because we apparently have nothing more productive to do, we listed out all the nasty names we have been called by raging or sulking children over the past few years. The list was long and impressive taking up both sides of a paper plate.

I know we're weird...you don't have to keep bringing it up. As an old friend of my parents says, "If you don't laugh, you die!". And we do have to laugh at how routinely we are called ugly names in our own home.

Some kids are very creative but by far the most popular are B., F.B., and for variety F.A.B. Funny that the same kids who spew these charming epithets react in their own shock and horror when they hear someone else use them. Some teens use foul language so commonly in conversations and texting with one another it's amazing that they can curb it at all around adults and younger children.

All the kids often use softer yet still inappropriate words in their everyday speech like "Sucks", "Jerk", "Stupid", "Loser", "Gay". The littles have picked up enough that they also have to be reminded not to use certain words. The Boss is particularly adept at usage of the S-word although he equally prefers "Dang" (Maybe I should teach him cowboy cussin' like Hoss on Bonanza..."Dagnabbit, Little Joe!").

Recently, he decided to copy Stuart Little's G-rated exclamation but still checks it out to make sure it's okay with mom.

Many converstations go something like this:
Him: Oh My!...wait...Mom, can I say Oh My?
Me: Yes.
Him: Oh My! That's a really big truck there!

This and That

Last day of summer vacation. We went to the beach in the afternoon.

Sparky acted like a stinkweed most of the day but did have some occasional non-oppositional moments. One of the first things Peaches said to me this morning is "They're all being mean." She was right and it continued throughout the day.

Just to add some interest, Ana got a flat tire on the freeway on the way down to church. My carload was late too because the city is doing some roadwork which apparently required taking a quarter of the church parking lot for humongous piles of dirt and gravel. They closed off some of the parking aisles, requiring a line-up of six cars to try to figure out how to three-point-turn their way out of the little bitty remaining space. Peaches was driving so she had all the fun with me gasping and grimacing in the passenger seat. Ana and her crew were, of course, much later than us. Our church is awesome and we hate to miss any of it. Especially because it's really hard for late-comers to find a place to sit.

Stickers took the train down from L.A. and met us at the beach and will stay for a few days. Her train was delayed and she actually thought we would leave without her. No way!

The Boss didn't get a chance to have another scream-free day because I had to wash what seemed like a bucket-load of sand and crud from his spiky updo. That boy has some hair.

Meanwhile the mental gymnastics continue as to what to do about Drama Boy. He admitted to the social worker that his mom, grandma, and Sparky forced him to say this was a bad place and he wanted to leave. He still wants to stay but lots of concerns about potential false allegations by his family and by him if he continues to cave to their pressure. Very upsetting situation and a decision needs to be made soon.

One Day More

One Sunday then back to school.

The big boys are back and acting normally...wait that's not exactly right....let's see, we'll go with "normal for us". Sparky has been uncharacteristically quiet but cooperative. Drama Boy cried over having to do the dishes and not being allowed to dye his hair black or bleach it blond. So again, "normal for us". Ana did allow him to have his hair highlighted. Choosing hair dye right after having the boys choose new school shoes was excruciating. They are so picky. I'd rather take 60 teen girls shopping then those two guys.

Following our shopping excursion we ate dinner at the food court of the last store we visited. Keeping things interesting, Drama Boy asked all the girls (grown-ups too) what they would want to look like if they were a guy. Never been asked that before. Odd child. Then he told us what he would want to look like if he were a girl. Okay, freaking me out...can we change the subject now?

The Boss made it through an entire day without a screaming fit. Squeaker told the same story that she has been repeating for a week and at least twice today. When asked "Didn't you just tell her that story?", she simply answered "Yes." Lucky pestered all day about walking or washing the dogs. She's making me hate the dogs. Not really....okay a little bit.

Just another normal Saturday.

Where is Normal? (Texas, I guess)

A rough week behind us and Drama Boy and Sparky returning today. Who knows what we're in for when the social worker tells them this afternoon that there will be no contact with their mom until the trial is concluded.

And in the middle of it all, The Boss had two major meltdowns one last night and one this morning. When he is overtired and frustrated he sometimes just loses it and screams the same thing over and over. Not a trantrum because he wants something but a total emotional blow-out that usually last about 30-40 minutes. Usually he screams "I'm scared" or "You need to help me" or last night it was "I need to go potty" for a half an hour. Completely exasperating as there is no way to calm him. Finally he wears down and derails from his obssesive repetition and I ask if I can hold him and then he is able to settle down and get back on track.

And Squeaker...what does that girl think with sometimes? Her behavior has been pretty good but she does have a quirky, very askew way of looking things and often does not live in what the rest of us know of as reality. Yesterday she was leaning in the car window and told Ana "I really want to climb through this window right now.....but then you'd probably spank me.....and then I'd sue you...I'd get a lawyer and sue you....I don't know how I'd get the money but I'd find a way and get a lawyer and sue you..." Until Ana had to tell her to knock it off. Way to come up with a completely hypothetical situation and spin it into another threat of allegation.

That's getting real old real quick around here.

Letting Go

Peaches asked me the other day how I can get rid of so much stuff as she finds it very hard to do.

There are a number of reasons why lately I have found it easier than ever to let things go. Some of it has to do with the fact that it helps my mental clarity. I'm tired of dealing with excessive stuff when sometimes just getting through the "have tos" every day is more than enough. I'm not saying everyone should do it but that's what works for me. I am easily depressed and have to work very hard at staying focused. Less stuff, easier task. And a heaping helping of daily caffiene doesn't hurt either.

However, it occured to me while driving home on Monday that when you can't even hold on to the kids you care about then you care much less about the stuff. I know that foster care is supposed to be temporary and that we did the best we could for many of the longer term kids that won't ever go home. Some have returned to their birth families, often back to a situation not much better than that which they were removed from. Some were moved to other foster homes or group homes. We would be torn up with grief and concern if we constantly worried about all 300+ children that have passed through our home(s). But you just connect more with some than others...especially those that stay for a while. We still think of them often and hope and wonder, worry and pray even years after they have gone. And we will do the same for Drama Boy and Sparky.

All our hopes and prayers for our special ones who have moved on. They were all "keepers" who we couldn't hold on to forever: Diana, Brian, Alex, Cody, Cameron, Jacob, Lucas, Wanish, Autumn, Emma, Kaylyn, Tito, Brian & Brandon, Ryder & Stormy, Mikey, Corbin, Jose, Henry, Anthony, Angel. Be well. Be happy. We love you and pray you find Jesus along the way as well as many, many others who love you.

Many Hats

Non-Productive to Say the Least

TDM yesterday for the boys was a disaster. These are supposed to be "safe, no shaming, no blaming, blah blah blah" type of meetings. Yeah, my eye.

Even their grandma totally flip-flopped and blamed the boys behavior on their desperation to get away from here. Okaaaay. She allowed them to list "boys behave with mom and family" as a strength even though the boys have threatened to make false allegations against her husband until she told them they would never see her again if they did that and for a while they were not allowed to come for overnight visits because of their misbehavior, stealing, and lying there. Plus boys only have short unsupervised visits with mom. No day-to-day, no chores, no homework, no trying to get along with others. Yeah, I think they can behave that long. Good grief.

Their mom is tryng to make all sorts of allegations to get them moved including saying that the boys told her mom who told a friend who told her that all we feed the kids is cold hotdogs. WTH? That's a new one. "Cold Hotdog" is now our euphemism for "Utterly Ridiculous Complete Nonsense Lie" which happens quite often around here. At least her sources were direct and no hearsay was involved at all. Right. So we'll likely get investigated.

Their mom is adament that they be moved immediately because of the abusive environment here. So far she has on us: 1. We called the police on a destructive, violent kid. TRUE. 2. Ana took one of the kids by the arm and steered him up the stairs in order to keep him from running away out the front door. TRUE. Although their mom used the words "grab" and "drag". 3. We feed the boys only cold hotdogs. Whatever...FALSE. We hardly ever even feed them hotdogs at all unless we are having a cookout and then they are, well, cooked out. The boys often say that at least the food here is really good (despite no tv). Jeez. 4. We favor the other kids. FALSE. Sometimes, due to behaviors, some kids are excluded from some activities. More often, everyone is excluded due to the behavior of one or some. We have to stay home alot because we can't trust the kids to behave correctly. The boys often complain that the others have privileges that they don't. This is, in fact, the quite the opposite of fact since Squeaker, who is two years older than Drama Boy, is not allowed to do some of the things that they are because of her behavior. It's even in a social worker's report that one of their complaints is that they have to go to bed earlier than one of the other kids who happens to be SIX years older than the oldest boy.

The three social workers in the meeting were supportive of us, denied that any of the above would be considered abuse, confirmed that foster parents must call the police if a child is acting in an destructive, unsafe manner. Sadly, their mom would rather have them live in a group home in order to have increased visitation. Their grandma had complained about the boys treatment at their former group home saying "They had to fight for their food. They had to fight for everything. All their Christmas presents were stolen." but when the social worker told bio mom that they would likely go back there but that he would recommend one supervised visit a week she said "Already better."

The agency decided over the protestations of birth mom that the boys would remain here until the trial was concluded. Ana insisted on "no contact" with any of the birth family during this period.

And after the trial they want another TDM since no decision was made in this one. Sorry, there's not enough Peptol Bismol in the world to get me through another meeting with those two women.

Much more on this subject as we can bear to write it. The above barely touches it. This ridiculousness went on for nearly three hours. What a nightmare these people are.

One Week Countdown

Final week before school starts! Yeeeeee-haw!

I wish it had been a more calm and enjoyable summer with the kids and I had mixed feelings about sending my babies back to school. But nope. Can't wait to get them all out the door and back into the routine.

This had promised to be a quiet week with the big boys at camp and just the girls and the littles home, but sadly, it looks like it's not to be. The girls have been meanly sniping at each other all morning. They have now made up and are shrieking through the house to put on swimsuits so they can run through he sprinklers.

We have to run around all week finishing up registration and last minute things for school. We have a "Team Decision-Making" meeting (TDM) tomorrow regarding the older boys. Usually I find these TDMs to be entirely pointless, but at this one we will discuss whether Drama Boy will stay and where Sparky will move. This should be pretty intense because bio mom will surely oppose DB staying even though he has stated quite strongly that that is his wish. Sparky is all over the map--one moment wanting to stay the next snarling his desire to leave. The social worker has asked that Ana consider keeping him here but safety concerns must rule on that score and we already agreed that we cannot do it. The TDM falls during Squeaker's registration so I will have to try to make it up later in the week. Just finding child-care for the girls and the littles while we are one county away took most of the evening last night. The results are not entirely satisfactory but the best we could do.

Okay, so NEXT week will be calm and peaceful, right?

Down with Stuff

We've spent the last year cutting down on clutter and excessive stuff and making an effort to not keep adding to it. This task is made somewhat easier for both Ana and me in that we are not big consumers. Ana never has been. I used to buy gadgets and cool stuff (before kids when I worked all the time and my income was much higher) but found I didn't really even end up using a lot of the things I bought.

Now our clutter combined with the kids' clutter is making me a little nuts. We gave away truckloads of items before we combined households and moved to a different county. All the kid toys and clothes that we stored for the hundreds of crisis kids we took in were no longer needed. We have been giving away a lot of personal items due to lack of space or because it got broken or might get broken by unruly kids. We recently off-loaded a bunch more to charity and two garage sales. The most painful purge was our massive book collection that we have been accumulating for the past 20+ years. A nice older couple bought the whole lot. It was hard not to chase them down the sidewalk and buy them back.

I've been reading with interest Dave Bruno's 100 Thing Challenge, a project to pare down his personal possessions to only 100 things. I think it's a bit of cheat since a lot of the items used on a daily basis are "shared" items for the household so it's not really like living with only 100 items. Still, I like the idea. But I don't like to count things (I'd make a lousy accountant or inventory clerk) or tame my ADD brain when it comes to excessive details (I don't balance my checkbook and haven't licensed my dogs yet). So that project was too tedious and time consuming for me.

However, less stuff definitely does appeal to my ADD brain as it is less to maintain, fix, license, register, clean, and keep track off. Having too much stuff and having to do too much to take care of it makes me depressed and agitated. And I work from home and have a hard time doing so surrounded by piles of clutter and junk. So today, I've filled up even more bags and boxes for charity and here's what's left of the possessions that are solely mine (although on occasion I do share). Incidentally, it did turn out to be pretty close to 100 things when I took the liberty of grouping certain items.

Transportation:
Car
I do own a second car but plan to sell it.

Pets:
2 Dogs. Each have two collars (one for id tags, one for training and walking), harness, leash, and bed. They share a grooming kit and food/water bowls.
Fish, bowl, and supplies. (The Boss has one too which lives in my room)
Rabbit, cage, and supplies.
Cat and supplies (probably not keeping the cat much longer)

Electronics/Entertainment:
iPod
Digital Camera
Cell Phone
Stereo (gift from my daughter but downstairs and shared by all)
8 seasons Stargate dvds
Die Hard series dvds
Over the Hedge dvd (Sentimental favorite. Saw this in theater on The Boss' adoption day.)
Toy Story 1&2 set dvds
(Again a cheat, since obviously I use a tv and dvd player. I use the shared ones in the living room and have one that belongs to Ana in my room. We sold over 100 dvds and videos at our garage sales and kept 20-30 as "shared" for family viewing and gave some to the kids for their own. I also sold/gave away hundreds of cds since all the music I listen to is now on my ipod or our "shared" computer.)

Misc.:
Coin purse with driver's lisc., credit/debit cards. (not much cash, darn it)
Willow Tree figurine (given to me by Ana for The Boss' adoption)
Schlep Bag (used mostly for hauling books and extra clothes for the littles)
Russian Nesting Doll (given to me by a good friend who traveled to Russia)
Cast-iron fox pen holder/business card set (bought in antique store in D.C.)
Stuffed Tigger (given to me by former co-worker as "thank you" gift)
Weights
Box of memorabilia (kept in garage, pared down from three boxes due to Ana's complaints that my junk was taking up too much valuable storage space)
Make-up and personal care items (I'm already minimalistic in this area so I'll count it as one)


Room Decor:
Bed
Bedding and Pillows
Antique dresser (refinished by me)
Dresser scarf
Antique writing desk
Night stand
Framed drawing of Don Quixote
Framed miniature painting of a knight
Canvas painting by former foster daughter
Wooden cowboy sign
Cowboy nightlight
Over the door hook/storage shelf
Three-drawer wooden stand (used to hold cds now holds make-up)
Hanging canvas shoe holder
Desk Lamp

Jewelry:
Japanese Jewelry Box (gift from exchange students)
Earrings (3 sets but I'll count as one thing since I wear them all at once)
Gold necklace (gift from parents from Virgin Islands or someplace like that)
Silver necklace/pendant (with my favorite Thoreau quote, bought at National Archives in DC)
Bracelet (gift from former foster daughter)
Bracelet (made of snakeskin, bought in the Philippines--probably will sneak it into the memorabilia box)

Personal Enrichment Stuff:
Bible (given to me by my mom when I was in Bible college in 1987-the one I still use for study and church)
Bible (gift from my parents in 1979)
Bible (recent addition, smaller size/modern translation for reading and travel)
Journals/notebooks/pens&pencils/crossword books/sketch pads (way too many so I made it a category...cheater)
Art supplies/old artwork (ditto)
Stack of books that I am currently reading or waiting to read(they'll be donated when I'm finished in a few weeks)

Clothing:
8 pair of shoes (mostly converse sneakers with some uggs, flip-flops, and boots thrown in)
5 jackets (1 warm, 1 denim, 3 hoodie)
30 items of day and night wear (mostly jeans and black t-shirts, my daily "uniform", love working from home!)
Uncounted undergarments/socks (why bother?)

That's it. If it's not listed it's gone or going. As Jo March said, "My head feels deliciously light and cool!"

"Have a Nice Trip. See You Next Fall."

Last night I took Drama Boy, Sparky, Squeaker and our respite kiddo, J, on one of our "good citizen walks." This time we walked from our house to the nearby WalMart, picking up abandoned shopping carts along the way and returning them to the store.

Despite my pre-walk lecture about staying together, not being loud, rude, inappropriate or otherwise obnoxious, the kids climbed in and out of the carts, ran off the sidewalk, played bumper carts, ran a cart into a fence, did not stay together and were generally loud, rude, inappropriate and obnoxious.

And, just to prove true the old cliche that "no good deed goes unpunished," my flip flops hit some water as I was crossing the street and I slipped, slid, flipped and flopped, landing hard on my knee and rolling backwards into the gutter water. Since we were still a few blocks from WalMart, I decided to continue on, dripping and squelching along the way.

Half a block later, the sidewalk was slick from sprinkler run-off. You guessed it...down I went, this time doing the splits and landing again on the same knee. Not a perfect landing, but at least this time I wasn't rolling around in the middle of the street.

We finally made it to the store, stowed the carts and walked back home without incident (with Sparky cheering me on "there's some water...do you see it?...be careful...don't fall...yay, you didn't fall...good job!) but I don't think I'm going to wear those flip flops on a public street ever again.

Good Reminder

Sometimes, for some reason, we remember fondly our years taking "crisis" foster placements. What were we thinking? We had houses next door to each other and took 5 or 6 kids each, either new to foster care or changing placements. We had a lot of really good, fun kids. And then there were the others that were not so fun. Usually change-of-placements-bounced-around-in-the-system-awhile kids...which should tell you something about how effective the foster care system is which is a whole other story.

Anyhoo, for the next few days we are providing respite care for another family in our agency so they can take a break. J has been here before. Eleven years old and doesn't have to listen to anybody. He's not exactly belligerent or anything, just doesn't listen. Walks away. Out the door, away from messes, as you're talking to him. Any time, any place. Doesn't listen.

Squeaker is also obnoxiously busy showing off. Manic laughter, rude conversation, and loud voices have prevailed since yesterday afternoon. The boys' room is trashed.

While Ana was sorting family pictures to give to some of our former foster children, all the kids joined in looking at old photographs. Upon seeing a picture of our younger brother in the Army and hearing that our other little brother just signed up and starts boot camp soon, J said with a smile, "I bet you're going to be sad when they die."

Well, he got the "lecture" from me and I finished by telling him don't ever again say that to anybody who has a family member in service to our country.

But then, of course, he doesn't listen.

Jumble

Drama Boy is almost slappy-happy at the idea that he might get to stay. This is after weeks and weeks of screaming, crying fits that he had to live here. What this kid's birth family does to him is maddening. Being happy here makes him disloyal to "the family" and they let him know it constantly.

I found Sparky crying yesterday when he was supposed to be coming to the table for dinner. I asked him if he was sad and he said yes so I told him it as okay to have mixed-up feelings about what was going on. I rubbed his back for a while and then asked if there was anything I could do and he said "No, that's okay". He came and got his dinner shortly after that and thanked me and Ana for making it.

Except for coming back after dark an hour late from a friend's house (a stranger helping emphasize the need to be where you are supposed to be by saying to them as they passed "Boys, I have your names tattoed on my a**."), they have had exemplary behavior the past few days.

Sad what it takes to get that from them.

Garden Chaos

You'd think with being home most of the time, my garden would be a little more tended to than it actually is. Fortunately, since we went the square foot gardening route, there has been virtually no weeding to do. Picking off bugs and grasshoppers has been surprisingly minimal.
I should have been doing a better job of pruning and staking. There are pepper plants buried under mounds of tomato vines.

The strawberries and beans and cilantro succombed to 114 degree heat. I planted late so we are now getting tomatoes, peppers, and zuccini. Looks like cantaloupe and watermelon soon too. We've had lots of cucumbers but for some reason most were too bitter to use unless doused in lime juice and hot sauce. I got tired of radishes so stopped replanting those. I pulled everything in that bed to get ready for our fall planting.

Not sure what happened to the corn there. It started out strong then just gave up.

I have one more bed to plant in but it doesn't have soil yet. Kinda ran out of time and money before I got to that one. I wanted to add some taller beds for root veggies too but might have to save that for next year.

Well, I've learned some things but not enough yet to get all that I wanted out of the garden this year. It gets really hot here so I need to figure out the best timing for planting. Definitely starting early next year and all of the kids want their own beds so I'm going to make a few smaller ones so they can each have their own to plant and tend whatever they want. More flowers would be nice too. Our landscaping is a little heavy on the palm trees and ornamental grass and not enough color but we have to find hardy, low-water varieties that will also survive our nippy winters. I'm used to San Diego non-weather and still need to figure out what grows best here besides the weeds and scrubby shrubs that adorn our local hills and and mountains.

The Flip

We have one criterion that outweighs all others when determining which kids can be placed in our home and continue to live here. It is, "Everyone must be safe".

Even though we knew it to be part of "the plan", the older boys' behavior escalated to the point that we no longer felt that all family members were safe from their aggression and verbal abuse. If they were the only children in the house things might be different but, even then, Drama Boy cannot be kept safe from Sparky's constant attacks and badgering and Sparky cannot be safe from himself because he refuses to comply with basic rules of safety (leaving the house without permission and not returning home on time, climbing on the roof, jumping on moving cars, rearranging and throwing furniture and other items, etc...). He even bruised Ana a couple of times from punching and grabbing. His oppositional behavior is such that Ana had concerns over her ability to continue to parent him into his teen years.

The very painful decision was made that they would need to be moved to ensure the safety and well-being of all.

Too late, Drama Boy realized that he was a follower in a "plan" that he wishes now he had not been party to. His birth mom has been encouraging and coaching his misbehavior and hatefullness towards Ana in an attempt to have them moved to a "better" place apparently thinking she will get them back more easily. DB now freely admits this and says he wishes he could take it all back. He sobbed for hours last night as he asked Ana for another chance to stay. Infuriating how their birth mother has used and manipulated these poor kids. She has been so careless with their lives and fragile emotions and then argues that no one but her loves them or is good enough to care for them. She has done a good job of convincing them of it, as well.

Sparky is the primary source of the aggression, destruction, and angry trantrums. Drama Boy is often his target and Sparky's outrageous behavior is the reason that the two have moved from several other placements. So, we'll revisit our decision in regards to Drama Boy with some reservations, many caveats, and insistence on improved behavior. It is somewhat surprising that DB expressed so strongly his desire to stay since in the past he has rejected any notion of connectedness to us and often makes no effort at civility to our extended family.

Sparky, on the other hand, is ready to "move on" (his words) and seems willing to do so on friendlier terms than expected. He wants to come back for visits especially if DB continues to live here. He is filled with deep, explosive anger which comes out as shocking meanness, violent aggression, destructiveness, and routine defiance. He is often personable and fun but when he's mad...everyone had better watch out! He did have to admit that he likes Ana and thinks she's nice and this is the best place he has lived.

His overwhelming argument in favor of moving?

Wait for it.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
We don't have cable tv.




Yep.
And he's not embarrassed to tell the social worker that. Many destructive tantrums were launched due to this sad fact.

We'll always love you, Sparky. This one's for you.

That Hurts

Major emotional meltdowns going on upstairs tonight, emphasizing again that hurting kids can be hateful, hurtful, dangerous, and abusive in an effort to reject you before you can reject them. But they feel it just as deeply even though they expect and practically beg to be rejected in order to confirm what they think they knew about you all along.

Wait, now I'm getting confused.

It makes their broken appeals for acceptance and belonging all the more heart-breaking that they are delivered with such volatile and violently mixed emotions. Can't post details yet but we are in for an awful, painful, gut-wrenching week.

Me, Me, Me. Mine, Mine, Mine.

Proving that the Toddler Rules aren't just for toddlers anymore...

Sparky and Drama Boy came home from two days at their friends house where they had gone to the drive-in and had all kinds of fun. But THEN they saw the shopping bags and so, of course, they looked inside and when they saw that it was things for the girls they both had the toddler-of-all-tantrums. Drama Boy cried and Sparky scowled and threw hampers around after stomping up the stairs(who thought putting the washer and dryer in the upstairs hall was a good thing?). They were both rude to Lucky and DB whined and cried all the way upstairs "I can't believe we've had to live here soooooo long." Again, displacing reality in which kids should grow up in one place their whole childhood with their own version of "if we don't get what we want then we get to move".

It spoiled the drama a little bit that Ana had gone shopping for them too. But not before they whined that Lucky had gotten stuff too and complained that Squeaker got shirts with designs and theirs were too plain. They get mad every time someone else gets something (no exaggeration) even if they do too, because somehow, someway they always feel gypped.

Is it any wonder that we don't actually take them with us when we go shopping? Wait until they find out that the girls got new shoes before they did (even though they will, of course, get new shoes too). Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeez, guys!

Opportunities

"If someone prays for patience, do you think God gives them patience? Or does he give them the opportunity to be patient?"
--Morgan Freeman in Evan Almighty--

Apparently someone thinks I need lots of opportunity to be patient. I'm not really very patient and even more so lately. Even as I type The Boss is alternately talking in an unnatural, ear-splittingly high voice at the dog and climbing on my chair and telling me "go back, go back" to whatever he wants to see on the internet.
I had to say "get down" and "lower your voice" about five times before he obeyed and I did it in my very best pretend patient manner.

Yesterday should have been an easy day with Sparky and Drama Boy gone for a few days with a friend, but the little boys were wild in the afternoon while Ana was out. Running, shrieking, jumping on furniture and each other, knocking down the blinds, and playing at dinner (The Boss also complaining about he doesn't like cheese or mayonnaise on his sandwich....well good for your chloresterol, now hush and eat). I finally had to tell him to come on upstairs and get jammies on early. Completely disregulated by that point, he screamed solidly for 45 minutes.

The girls spent the night with a neighbor friend but not before Lucky had pestered me dozens of times asking to go outside, play video games, use the phone, and so on while I was trying to finish work for the day. She bug, bug, bugs all the time as if the answer is going to change from when she asked it five minutes ago. She also "shops around" asking one of us and then the other if she doesn't get the answer she wants. We're working on that.

Meanwhile, I guess I am working on responding patiently. It's not the big things that get me cranky like the trash-talking, house-trashing tantrums as much as the constant badgering, banging, bickering, making noises just for the sake of noise, mess and clutter, and asking for stuff all the time.

Lots of opportunity, I guess.

Rock 'n' Roll is Here to Stay

The Boss, rockin' the house. Recent studies have shown that eight out of nine people living in this house are WAY too addicted to Guitar Hero.



In case you were wondering....that's Cooper's tail in the bottom left corner and Drama Boy's paw in the middle right.

Rules of Property

I was putting away my things last night when The Boss spied the Spiderman pencil box which holds my drawing stuff. He asked if he could see it and I showed him. The following exchange ensued.

Him: "Can that be mine?"
Me: "No."
Him: "Why not?"
Me: "Because it's mine."
Him: "But I want it because I like it so I want it so it can be mine."

Reminding me of the Toddler Rules of Property which apparently extend well into the pre-school years and beyond:

__________

If I like it, it's mine.
If it's in my hand, it's mine.
If I can take it from you, it's mine.
If I had it a little while ago, it's mine.
If it's mine, it must never appear to be yours in any way.
If I'm doing or building something, all the pieces are mine.
If it looks just like mine, it's mine.
If I think it's mine, it's mine.

__________

These rules supply endless fodder for disagreement between the littles because, naturally, they apply exclusively to each toddler and pre-schooler on the planet.

After Darkness Comes the Dawn

It is always this time in the morning that I can imagine what a "normal" life would be like. One of the littles and I were up early (which, in the summertime, is 8:30). He ate his breakfast while I posted new pictures on our artsy blog. Now he is "reading" his books to me as I type this.

Right now he is reading Oh, the Thinks You Can Think by Dr. Suess. "Hoovy, hoovy, hoovy, he thinks. Now he is in the water. And he likes the night. 'Do you like sharks?' said the guy. 'No, he doesn't.' 'Raaaah!' said the water. And he cried so much..." and so on. (You can read the book to see how close his paraphrase came to the actual text.) Other selections have included a story about a very hungry "duckel-ing", Clifford, and Veggie Tales (prompting him to sing, "doo doo dah doo doo, at the chocolate fact-tory!").

Squeaker and Lucky ran in with a cheery "Good morning. I love you." and a kiss for each cheek.Sparky and Drama Boy are still asleep. Our house is peaceful. It's a beautiful morning.

Contrast to the night before: Sparky was lurking around the girls' bedroom door and, when discovered, ran into the bathroom and locked the door. I told him to stop hiding in the bathroom since he was supposed to be in bed so he came out and immediately began telling me that he couldn't sleep because Drama Boy was hitting him. I followed him into their bedroom. He ran straight over to Drama Boy and began shouting mean things in his face. I said, "Stop. Stop. Stop! STOP!" with increasing volume and intensity. He finally stopped. But only to turn his venom on me.

He again refused to stop and refused to get in bed, now saying that he wanted to get water and why couldn't he just get water(?). I told him to stay in bed and I would bring him water because he was not allowed to leave his room.

"Hand me your cup."

"I don't have a cup." (wailing)

"You had a cup last night."

"What cup?" (angrily)

"Your Iron Man cup. Hand it to me."

Reaches for cup. "AAUUUGHH! OH MY G-D...WHAT IS THAT?!" (yelling) Falls out of bed, wiping hand on the carpet. "It has frog poop all over it!

Yes, it actually did. And now the carpet does, too. Drama Boy used Sparky's water cup to scoop water out of the frog's soaking bowl. Why? He's not saying.

Continued defiance from Sparky about washing frog poop off his hands and going back to bed.

Note to self: if you are tired and want the day to end and everyone to stay in bed, do not tell Sparky that he has a consequence for defiance. Wait until the next day.

A half hour later, he was still standing on the bannister singing an "I hate Ana" song of his own creation. Complete with guitar accompaniment. Such a clever boy.

And that's why I love mornings.