I Know What We're Gonna Do Today!

Recycle Time

2012-02-07T06:09:00.000-08:00

I Know What We're Gonna Do Today!: There is no compensation.

The above link will take you to a blog post that about sums up my feelings today. Phineas and his siblings... ugh.

I Know What We're Gonna Do Today!: Butterflies

2012-01-25T14:39:00.000-08:00

I Know What We're Gonna Do Today!: Butterflies

Sometimes a past post smacks me in the head. And I read it. And Remember.

When the Stars Align

2012-01-24T21:26:00.000-08:00

Parenting a child like Phineas is not easy. It takes a level of strength and dedication that, most days, I lack. One thing I have learned along they way is the the relationship I build with him is EVERYTHING. If I want to affect his behavior, I must do it through the vehicle of our relationship.
There was a time when I thought, and was taught by well-meaning professionals, that I must CONSEQUENCE EVERY LITTLE ACTION. I must be FIRM.
Ok, now, I'm not saying "goodbye boundaries!" Boundaries still exist in my parenting paradigm. But, boundaries are not everything. They are there because they are a part of life. They are there because he needs them. But... and this will be hard for many to understand. They are not the end all to be all.
Relationship. That is where it is at for Phineas and me. Daily I do something to build it, to make it stronger. Think about it. What will happen when he is a teenager if I spent his formative years consequencing his bad behavior, and with holding the relationship building because it looked too much like a reward? What if at the end of the day all he had to look back on was the criticism, the punishment, the yelling, the time-outs... and this boy knows how to work all of that in the name of attention seeking.
Some days I do well at this relationship building. Those are the days I stand firm in my role as "scaffolding supporter." What kids like Phineas need as they navigate through the choices they are presented with daily is scaffolding. It's like being an external brain. My job is to remind him of the choices he makes, and what happens when he makes them. I try to not bark out orders. Our kids need to make their own choices. They do not need to be told exactly what to do and how to do it. Phineas needs scaffolding as he makes these choices. For example, "you need to your boots on now. If you don't put them on now, you might miss the bus." Or... "remember what happened last time you got in your brother's personal space like that? He got really mad, and he hit you. You both got in trouble. Maybe you can chose to move your body over here." I know it might seem permissive, but I'm telling you. You want to see Phineas flounder and fail, you bark an order at him. Every fiber of his being feels the intense urge to go against the direct order. The scaffolding approach is what works best for Phineas and his brain.
I'll give you an example of how this works well.
We were at the home of some friends who have two boys the same ages and Ferb and Phineas. I've mentioned the one, Herb, before. Herb (not his real name) is Ferb's best friend. I'll call his little brother Bert. It was Bert's birthday. We were invited for cake, but no presents. Phineas went a little crazy when we got to their house. He was running to and fro, causing trouble and a little anxiety for Herb and Bert. He was touching beloved Lego creations. The more traditional approach would have been to bark out an order. "PHINEAS. Behave or I will (fill in the bland with some consequence.)!" But, I was on it that night. I was momma bear extra ordinaire. I stepped aside from the gathering, and scoped Phineas in my arms, applying sensory input all over his body.
I whispered in his ear, "your legs!!! Phineas, what will YOU tell YOUR legs to do?"
He smiled at me with his sparkly brown eyes. "Walk! I will tell my legs to walk.... walk legs!"
I rubbed his arms briskly with my hands. "And your arms? What will you tell your arms to do?"
He held his arms in front of him and said, "ARMS! I am in control."
"Good job. If you need a reminder to keep your arms and legs in control, I will be right here to help you remember."
And, the rest of the night went well.

Today was a day when the stars of parenting seemed to align. At first I was worried that I was setting us all up for some kind of failure. My mom was to work, when she usually does not on Tuesdays, freeing her up to bring Isabella home from school, and bring Phineas to wrestling. So, I had to figure it out and manage to get to class too. I thought I might have to skip class, and it's a once a week class. Skipping is a bad idea.
I found a saint of a friend to pick Isabella up from the bus. Ferb and Candace went home. (Isabella goes to a different school, and the bus picks her up and drops her off at a different location.) Candace is of baby-sitting age, so she babysat Ferb. (That marvelous girl even cleaned the house and baked cookies!) I had Phineas go to the after school care program. I picked him up when my one class ended at 3:15, went through the Hardee's dive through for a chicken tender kids meal, and then made it to my 4:00 class with him in tow.
He was perfect.
I was in shock.
Not once did him make any bad choices.
He did some homework. He ate his food. He colored. He played my DSI.
He had pictures at wrestling that evening, so I had to leave class a little early to get him there. As we left he asked me, "what class is this?"
"It's 'Human Behavior and the Social Environment,' honey."
"Well, maybe we better stay, because, remember, my behavior is not that good."
(Ack! I love that kid!)
We went to wrestling. Pictures were taken. Wrestling moves were practiced. And then we got ready to go.
His coach approached him as we were getting ready to leave, and had a serious talk with him about listening, and following directions, and learning to be a better wrestler. Phineas looked a little sorrowful.
"Phineas," the coach said. "I'm not angry. I'm not yelling at you. I'm helping you to be a better wrestler."
"It feels like I'm getting yelled at."
"Phineas. If I were a coach who did not care I would have yelled at you. I would have said, 'knock it off!' or something like that. But, I'm a coach who cares about you. I'm a coach who wants you to be a good, tough wrestler. So I'm talking with you about what you can do to be that..."
I pulled him aside, and thanked him. I explained a little about how Phineas' brain works. He told me he gets it, that he has a couple boys with learning disabilities, and that they are a lot like Phineas. I told him that Phineas might need to have that talk several more times before it sinks in. I told him that in order for Phineas to be successful in life, he will need support from all the people in his life, especially his coaches, since he is so athletically inclined. The coach agreed with me.
I felt like the stars were in line for Phineas today.
Then we went to the McDonald's drive through because we were both hungry, and he needed a reward for making such good choices, and I had to hurry to pick up Isabella. (No time for the grocery store and a healthier option.) At first he wanted a happy meal. I told him two things from the dollar menu. He was mad. Then he pulled it together, and ordered an apple pie and a small sprite. This pulling it together thing was HARD. But he did it!
When we got to the window, we found they were out of pies. He almost lost it, then decided to get a McDouble instead. Whew. Then there were pickles on it. Almost lost it, pulled it together.
This is huge.
There was no rage. No tantrum. No accusing me of hating him.
He fell asleep on the way home.
It was a huge day for him. He accomplished SO MUCH.

I'll end with a picture of him from Friday when he took first at the first wrestling tournament of the season. He was pretty pleased. The first match he won 8 to 2, the second and third matches he won with pins.

The Things They Say Thursday

2011-12-29T11:20:00.000-08:00

It's been a while.
I know.
But, today I must share some funny things my daughter's friend (and friend's daughter - said friend reads this blog, Hi C!) said. She is nine years old.
She spent the night here earlier this week. As she was getting read for bed, she saw the thermostat on the wall. "Oh!" She exclaimed! "You have heat! I didn't know you had heat! That's great!"
I just smiled to myself and thought, "yeah, we live in the Northwoods! We'd all freeze without it!"
Isabella then told her, "It's wood heat, so it's way warmer than other heat."

The next morning something happened between the girls and the boys. Can't remember what it was exactly, I think it started with some kind of disagreement. This cute little nine year old said, "In all my years of experience..." like she was some sage of wisdom!

Love that kid! Never a dull moment when she is visiting!

Christmas Letters

2011-12-20T12:52:00.000-08:00

I don't remember the last time I wrote a Christmas letter. I think it was when Ferb was a baby. Instead of telling the truth about him being developmentally delayed, I bragged it up about his cherubic cuteness.
There's nothing wrong with that.
But.
I think that we'd all be a lot better off if we all just told the truth, even if it hurts a little. I think that instead of making others feel less than up to "that" standard, we'd help them feel included, appreciated, understood and loved.

Oh, I could write the picture perfect Christmas letter! It would go something like this:

Merry Christmas, Friends and Family!
2011 has been a wonderful year!
In February Candace turned 12! She is growing up to be a delightful young lady. She does well in school and plays the french horn and the violin. This summer she was awarded a scholarship for violin lessons! She continues to ride horses and participate in 4-H. She worked hard raising her pigs, and earned a state fair trip with her January Gilt! While at the state fair she was a showmanship finalist. That is a very big accomplishment for a 12 year old first time state fair participant!
Isabella turned 11 in May. She has started 6th grade at a new school, and is really doing well in the new setting. She began playing the trumpet in her school band, and is showing some talent! She also sings in her school chorus, and loves it. She also participates in 4-H, and wowed the crowd with her rendition of Shel Silvertien's "Clooney the Clown" at the county fair. She also showed pigs, and won the junior showmanship trophy! This fall she started the shooting sports program with archery classes.
Ferb will be 10 on New Years Eve. He is smart and fun. He began taking piano lessons in June, and performed in his first recital this December. He played "Silent Night" beautifully! He is also active in 4-H. He showed his boarder collie, Belle, and got reserve champion in showmanship! Belle is getting old, and we are hopeful that she will be able to participate with Ferb in his dog project. He also showed pigs. His barrow, Wilbur, had his own facebook page with over 70 friends! He is also taking part in the shooting sports program, and started archery this fall.
Phineas turned 6 in April and is just growing like a weed! He is now 73 lbs! He wrestled, and made it to the state finals! He placed 3rd in his weight class! He too began piano lessons in June, and played in his first recital this December. He is loving first grade, and really taking off on reading.
As I write this I am enjoying the view of the lake. There is a bald eagle hovering in the breeze just in my line of sight. We have had very little snow, and that has made the ice covered lake sing loudly this year. We are so very blessed, and hope that you will all have a blessed Christmas and wonderful New Year!

Ok, so that's not a lie. It's a shiny happy version of life in my family.
A more realistic version would go like this:

Merry Christmas, Friends and Family!
2011 has flown by!
In February Candace turned 12! She was recently abducted by aliens and they left a raging hormonal crazy person in her place. One day, not too long ago, she was upset about something. I asked gently what was going on. She BLEW UP at me and screamed, "YOU'RE MY MOTHER!!! I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO TELL YOU THESE THINGS. YOU SHOULD JUST KNOW WHAT'S WRONG." I told her that mind reading was not on my list of super powers. Ugh! She does do well in school and plays the french horn and the violin. This summer she was awarded a scholarship for violin lessons! She continues to ride horses and participate in 4-H. She worked hard raising her pigs, and earned a state fair trip with her January Gilt! What a blessing that was. Her dad and I got divorced in June, and he got remarried in August, while we were at the State Fair. While at the state fair she was a showmanship finalist. That is a very big accomplishment for a 12 year old first time state fair participant who is reeling from recent insane life events she has no control over!
Isabella turned 11 in May. She has started 6th grade at a new school, and is really doing well in the new setting. The school is keeping up with her IEP from her old school. It is a Title 1 school, which is a new thing for us. We have never lived in an area poor enough to get the Title 1 benefits. I think she is benefiting from that program. She began playing the trumpet in her school band, and after a lot of pressure to practice is showing some talent. She also sings in her school chorus, and loves it so much every evening I get a personal concert as she belts out songs from the shower loud enough for the entire house to hear! She also participates in 4-H, and wowed the crowd with her rendition of Shel Silvertien's "Clooney the Clown" at the county fair. She also showed pigs, and won the junior showmanship trophy! This fall she started the shooting sports program with archery classes. She still gets emotional, and more nights than not crawls in bed with me.

Ferb will be 10 on New Years Eve. He is smart and fun. Recently he has been acting out in school to the point where I have had to pick him up early twice. I am learning all about holds and time out rooms, and will be asking for a new IEP meeting if things do not change. Mostly he has bad days on the days his dad is going to pick him up from school, and on the Mondays after he's had a bad day at school. I am hopeful that his new normal of being a kid from a divorce with a new step-mom will soon settle. Being autistic, he really can't articulate exactly how he feels to me. He began taking piano lessons in June, and performed in his first recital this December. He played "Silent Night" after being pulled out from under a chair. He was first on the program, and that was helpful. He has an aptitude for music, but like school, he doesn't feel he should have to prove his ability to anyone. He is also active in 4-H. He showed his boarder collie, Belle, and got reserve champion in showmanship! Belle is getting old, and we are hopeful that she will be able to participate with Ferb in his dog project. She is his special companion, and he may just melt down and regress a lot when she dies. He also showed pigs. His barrow, Wilbur, had his own facebook page with over 70 friends! He is also taking part in the shooting sports program, and started archery this fall. He is very good at archery, but does not feel he should have to practice.
Phineas turned 6 in April and is just growing like a weed! He is now 73 lbs! He wrestled, and made it to the state finals! He placed 3rd in his weight class! He too began piano lessons in June, and played in his first recital this December. He almost had the song, "Jolly Old St. Nicholas" memorized. He lost his place a couple times during the recital and turned around to ask me for help. I rejoiced when the recital was over! For my boys to play like they did is even more of an accomplishment than any concert pianist could ever dream of. He is loving first grade, and will read only one book to me, because he knows he knows all the words in it.. He still rages from time to time, and talks non stop. When he doesn't get his way he yells at me that he wants his birth mom, because she would let him play the wii all the time, or stay up late, or watch violent shows on t.v, or eat junk food all day, or not make him pick up his things, or not make him hang up his coat... yeah. I get that a lot from him. He seems to be dealing with a lot of anxiety. I hope it levels out, or I may have to seek some professional help. Six year olds should not live with that level of anxiety. Just the anticipation of Christmas and the newness of having to split his life into two worlds is driving him over the edge.
As I write this I am enjoying the view of the lake. There is a bald eagle hovering in the breeze just in my line of sight. I always take eagles as a sign that everything is going to be OK. We have had very little snow, and that has made the ice covered lake sing loudly this year. We are so very blessed, and hope that you will all have a blessed Christmas and wonderful New Year!

And that is more like it. More like my real life. Still a little polished. I didn't put in the part about me being a full time student struggling to keep on top of homework and housework. Blah. My house will never be a showcase.
But that's a different post for a different day.

A Christmas Memory

2011-12-06T20:49:00.000-08:00

So it was Christmas 2004. One of the best Christmases ever! I had been in the hospital with a small bowel obstruction the Sunday before Christmas. Sent home Monday or Tuesday. My ex was deployed. Ferb was in the middle of extensive testing that would soon end with an autism diagnosis. Life should have been stressful and crazy, but, IT WAS NOT. There was such a peace in our home that year. It was because despite all the turmoil going on around us, we were centered on what mattered most.
That Christmas Eve I took the kids (ages 5, 4, and almost 3) on a drive to see the Christmas lights. We drove through Pearl Harbor. The ships were all lit up, and the tree on top of the Dive Tower too. I miss that! We drove by Hickam Tower with it's lights. Then we went to Fort Kamehameha to see the luminaries. It was magical. As we drove out of Fort Kam, this song came on. I asked my kids if they knew what it meant to give Jesus their hearts. Candace, who was only five years old, said without any hesitation, "Oh Momma! I gave Him my heart a long time ago!"
It was one of the best Christmases ever.

My Thanksgiving Day

2011-11-25T23:08:00.001-08:00

I love to cook and bake. Love it. When I find a good recipe I hang on to it. I think I got that from my mom. She collects recipe books. When she is traveling, she looks for a local cookbook to buy, you know one that is put together by a church or other group.
Me, I like the recipes with some history.
It got me thinking as I baked pies on the night before Thanksgiving... just who was coming to my Thanksgiving dinner.
Oh sure, I was there, my kids were there, my dad was there, one of my best friends, her husband and daughter were there...
But, others were there as well.
Florence Davis was there. She was an elderly woman who I attended church with when I was just 18 years old and stationed in Pearl Harbor. She submitted a Lemon Meringue Pie recipe to a cook book the women in our church ward put together. I love that recipe. When I told her I had made it, she smiled. She told me it made her happy to know that such old fashioned recipes were being used. I make that pie every thanksgiving. My kids are not fans of it, but I am. So is my dad. I am so grateful she shared that recipe. When I make it, it's as though she is right there enjoying the process and the special day with me.

Florence Davis' Old Fashioned Lemon Meringue Pie

My grandma Virginia is there. Well... sometimes she is literally there, but most years she is just there in recipe. I make her Pumpkin Pie recipe every year. It's more like a custard, and I love it.
My mom is there, and like her mom, sometimes it's literal! Sometimes it's just in recipe. I LOVE her bread stuffing recipe. As soon as the butter melts in the saucepan and I toss in the onions, celery, and seasonings the smell takes me back to my childhood. How I loved that smell! It always hit at some point during the Macy's parade, and my brain bounced back and forth from the parade on TV to the deliciousness that awaited later.
Even though I don't make his recipe, my Grandad is there. When I asked my mom to send me her bread stuffing recipe, she wrote a note on it: "Grandad wants you to make the wild rice stuffing." I am sure it is delicious, but I make the stuffing from my childhood. That note warms my heart. When I read it I can see my Grandad sitting at the table in his kitchen barking out that order to my mother. It makes me smile, and brings him to my table. How I miss him.
There are other recipes that I have discovered on my own... the distinct amount of butter, olive oil, season salt, poultry seasoning, mustard, and nutmeg that get rubbed all over the turkey... I hope my kids remember this smell and combination, and that they will someday make it for their families.
There is my cheesecake recipe book. I LOVE THIS BOOK. It was a white elephant gift from the dojo Christmas party back in 1997. I think of those friends when I bake from it.
This year when I was shopping for Thanksgiving Day fixings I saw in the bakery section King's Hawaiian rolls. YUM. I decided to make my life a lot more simple and not bake butter horns this year. I bought the rolls, and thought about my dear friend Evelyn Chan. When I had my surgery in 2004, she brought over King's Hawaiian sweet bread as a part of a meal. For some reason, I cannot eat that bread without thinking of her. She passed away in 2007, and I miss her very much. She was one of the strongest, kindest women I have ever known. She too was present at my meal yesterday.
Having a meal like this, one that brings back memories and makes new ones is a process I am thankful for.

And here is the recipe for Florence Davis' Old Fashioned Lemon Meringue Pie:
2 C sugar divided
1/3 C cornstarch
1/4 t salt (optional)
1 1/2 C cold water
... 1/2 C lemon juice
5 eggs separated
2 T butter
1 to 2 t grated lemon peel
1 9 inch baked pie shell
1/4 teaspoon cream of tarter
In large saucepan combine 1 1/2 C sugar, cornstarch, and salt. Stir in water and lemon juice. Beat egg yolks and blend into sugar mixture. Add butter. Cook stirring constantly over medium heat until mixture thickens and boils one minute. (This is important, be patient. Do not turn the heat up. It will take a while. I never boil the full minute... it always thickens up FAST as soon as it begins to boil.) Remove from heat. Add lemon peel, and pour into pie shell. Beat egg whites until foamy. Add remaining 1/2 cup sugar one tablespoon at a time beating constantly until white stand in self peaks. Spread mirengue over filling and bake in 350 oven 12 to 15 minutes. Cool at room temperature.

We Can All Go On A Hike Together!

2011-10-27T19:53:00.000-07:00

Phineas Explains His Ideas for a Playground for ALL Kids!

B-town is doing something great. Something really great. There is some kind of grant, and the department of parks & rec is working with this organization to build a park for kids of all abilities! This is so very forward of our community! And I love it!
Tonight they held a meeting and invited the community to join in the planning of the park. Shane's Inspiration takes what the community needs and makes a playground that is inclusive. It is amazing. They wanted input from everyone. Even children. And they got it. I was so so so proud of my kids. They advocated for themselves, for their brothers and sisters, and their friends. Isabella, with a clear and confident voice said when asked what she would like in such a park, "I have a friend who cannot see. Her name is J. What I would like to have for J is a trail with a rope so she can glide herself along it. And it can be wide enough for wheelchairs, so we can all go on a hike together."
What an amazing kid. This park is gonna be special.

Candace Shares Her Vision

My Solution

2011-10-26T20:17:00.000-07:00

I do not want a repeat of last winter. I do not want to be on Phineas' case constantly because he loses and destroys his winter things.
So... my solution... I am stocking up on winter stuff. I have gotten another pair of snow pants. (I never did find any of the two pairs he lost last year.) I frequent some really great bartering and sales boards on facebook with an eye keen to winter garb.
And... I bought a Knifty Knitter. I am having Phineas pick out his own yarn and having him help me Knifty Knit him hats. I figure this will bring about one of two responses:
A: He will take ownership of the hat he helped to create, not lose it, and then feel great satisfaction with his efforts.
B: He will lose the hat, and then do the wango tango because he lost a special hat that he helped make.
I really really fear that response B will be the one we get.
But, I really really hope that response A will be the one we get.
I kind of feel like this is a sort of litmus test. If we get A, then I will take heart that he is forming some new, amazing connections in his brain.
If we get B, then I feel like we are still stuck in limbic brain mode, and that the frontal lobe is still nowhere near being on line.
Come on response A. PLEASE be the one!

The Drive Home

2011-10-23T21:22:00.000-07:00

This weekend I had the opportunity to attend a retreat for adoptive parents. The focus was on the affects of trauma on brain development.
It was amazing.
I learned a lot. I was inspired.
It was brought up that our kids are heroes. They get up every morning and face life as best they know how. So many of our kiddos have endured trauma that we can only begin to imagine. All before they could even talk. This trauma has profound effect on the brain's development.
As I drove home I plugged my phone into the tape deck of my rattled old van, and turned on Pandora.
The very first song that played was the one I posted above.
I had not cried all weekend. But I cried then. I've heard the song a million times. It's by one of my favorite groups. The lyrics struck me. It was about my son, Phineas. His life is like a jigsaw puzzle with the pieces out of place. (The puzzle metaphor was actually used during one of the presentations.) He often has days that encompass all his bad days all at once... days that he cannot verbalize or even describe, but he remembers on some level the trauma he endured before he was born and as a small infant.
It's late. I need to get some rest. I'll end with the lyrics, and if you are the parent of a child who has endured trauma, read them and think of your child.
I know Phineas needs me to "come on over." He needs me to be present for him. He needs my love. He needs me to wipe his tears. He might not know that he needs me, he might even say he does not need me. But I think he does. So I will be there for him.

If my life is like a jig saw, with the pieces out of place
Come on over
put a smile up on my face
And if all my bad days came at once, you would know just what to do
Come on over
Only you can see me through
And if you think I need you
Come on over
Bring your love around, only you can dry my tears
And if you think I need you
Come on over
Lay your body down
You know I will be here
Bring your love around.

When I can not see in front of me
And you know my darkest days
Come on over
You can take them all away
And if all my bad days came at once
You would know just what to do
Come on over
Only you can see me through
And if you think I need you
Come on over
Bring your love around
You can dry all my tears [baby]
And if you think I need you
Come on over
Lay your body down
You know I will be here
Bring your love around

Reflections

2011-10-20T20:20:00.000-07:00

So
This Post
has been on my mind.
It is true that Candace is the kind of kid who will reach out to EVERYONE. One of my proudest moments as a parent was when her kindergarten teacher told me that she was the kid who made sure NO ONE was left out EVER. That quality has followed her, even into her tumultuous pre-teen years. She is the one who loves others unconditionally. She is the one who sees the good in the souls of all she meets without passing any kind of judgment on their appearance.
I have very very very little to do with it.
Oh sure, I like to think I have modeled kindness, I hope I have shown her the good I see in her, thus enabling her to see the good in all she encounters... but really... Candace came to this earth with amazing qualities that I have nothing to do with.
Besides, I DO NOT want to take the credit for qualities that are intrinsicly her's. She deserves all the credit for being the amazing person she is.
In much the same way I DO NOT want to take the credit for the fact that my six year old spun an elaborate tale about a birth brother that was born in Brazil to tell the gentleman who was teaching Brazilian drums at the Boys and Girls Club today. Isabella said she sat in open mouthed astonishment as he explained to the teacher that he has a brother who was born in Brazil.
Once she regained her ability to speak, she called him on it. He was ashamed. (YES!) But then he quickly gathered his faculties and said it was just a story, and he forgot to put in that eensy weensy detail that it came from his imagination.
Um, Phineas... when you tell a story and omit the part that it's just a made up story it's tantamount to telling a lie. That's not something I've ever encouraged in any of my children.
Especially when you consider the context, and the man you are telling the story to is from Brazil too.
So, if I'm not gonna take the credit for the dishonesty, I am not gonna take the credit for the compassion.
Our kids are who they are.
If we are good parents, we elicit what is good in them... sometimes. And sometimes we try our hardest and still end up with a kid who does not make good choices, landing him or her in time out, or in jail.
Depends on the kid.
Depends on the life experience of said kid.
Depends on lots of things... from the chemicals that passed the placenta in uetero to the traumatic brain injuries they sustain as toddlers to individual personalities and so on.
Our kids are who they are. They came to us with (some by birth and some by other means) with amazing spirits and personalities that we really have very little to do with.

Winter is on the Way

2011-10-19T07:11:00.000-07:00

This morning my kids all went off to school happily. No one was fussing or whining or complaining of any ailment! Why, you ask?
It's all because of a sweet little baby living in our barn. And they all left a few minutes early to catch the bus just so they could spend some time with her!

Her name is Vermillion. We call her "Millie." She is sweet and gentle. She loves the kids, and the kids love her! They are so excited to have her, and are all so in love with her. I just love the behavior animals elicit in my children. Especially baby animals! They are more gentle and eager to help. They fight less. Their hearts soften. Ferb is especially excited to have Millie to work with.

Other happenings here on the lake in the Northwoods....
Winter is on it's way. Yes, there was snow on the ground this morning. No, I am not happy about it.
Phineas came to ask me to help him zip his coat up. Yep. His winter coat. He's been wearing it less than a week, and, the zipper is already becoming ruined.
How does he do it? How many coats will we go through this winter? It's enough to make me want to pack up and move back to Paradise! I was thinking of last winter. It was not a fun winter as far as Phineas and his winter apparel went. I am sure that his teachers at school thought there was something wrong with me, that I am some kind of neglectful mother who does not dress her children appropriately for winter weather. I struggled between natural consequences and outfitting him to withstand the cold. I don't know how many times I was told by staff at the school "Phineas came to school with no mittens/hat today." Well, when he left the house he had them on! He'd take them off on the bus, and then forget to put them on when he got to school. I fixed the mittens problem by having my mom sew his mittens to elastic and sew them to his coat. (The strings that go across the shoulders bother him, and he pulls them out.) However, as soon as he destroyed the zipper, (about a month) he'd be in a new coat, and I'd need to have her sew them on again. Sometimes we wouldn't get to her house for a while, and we'd lose mittens. I stopped buying him new mittens, and made him wear mis-matched ones. Funny thing, this year, we don't have any spare mittens! He lost them all last year! I can't sew his hat to his coat. I need to figure that one out. Anyone who's living in the Northwoods knows that you can't stay warm with just the hood on your coat. He's got two new (to him) coats this year. I will be having my mom sew mittens on them. These two coats... one has lasted his brother two years, and the other one year. They were both in good condition. Let's see how long they last.
I'd be willing to take wagers on how many coats he will go through this winter. The winner will get all his destroyed coats sent to them in a box.

2011-10-15T11:20:00.000-07:00

My stupid swollen eye-lid was getting better, looking better... and then it got bad again Thursday night. Friday I went to the walk-in-clinic. The Dr. looked and looked at it. He looked at the computer. He scratched his head. He decided to put me on different anti-biotics. The culture taken of it last week showed that it was an unusual bacteria, but one that should have responded to the anit-biotics.
By Friday night my head was HURTING. SO BAD.
So I went to the ER. It was a migraine. I got meds and went home where I dreamed some pretty weird dreams. (Think Mormon missionaries being trained to play ice-hockey.)
Today the headache remains.
And my eye-lid is swelling even more.

2011-10-12T07:31:00.000-07:00

It's been more than three years since this picture was taken.

More than three years since my toes have played in the sand.

More than three years since I played in the ocean with my kids.

More than three years since I had a conversation with someone speaking pidgin.

More than three years since I ate at an L&L or Shiro's.

More than three years since a drive up to Matsumoto's shaved ice.

More than three years since seeing my ohana in Hawaii.

I miss it today.

Warning. The following post written under the influence of prednisone.

2011-10-11T21:11:00.000-07:00

So this little infection in my eye-lid led to a trip to the walk-in-clinic Saturday that led to a culture being taken of the pus the doctor squeezed from my eye-lid that led to anti-biotics to take care of the infection and prednisone to reduce the swelling.
The good news is that it is not MRSA.
The bad news is prednisone makes me crazy.
So crazy I ended up in tears today at school after an especially difficult Social Welfare Policy class. I could not string a coherent thought together. I cried. I sat down in the grass and cried. People expressed concern to me, and I cried. Because they're just so nice! Everything makes me cry when I am on prednisone. Or it makes me really angry. But mostly, I cry.
My peers asked me what I needed. So I told them what every person taking prednisone says when asked if they need anything. FOOD! Seriously. This drug makes you EAT. Bad stuff. I ate a container of bologna yesterday. I don't even like bologna. I just NEEDED it.
Someone whisked me away to the union and bought me some pasta. Get this. It had BACON on it!!!! Oh yum. Sodium!
Then I cried because it's just so nice that she did that for me. I felt SO LOVED! What does a person on prednisone do when they feel so loved? They cry. And cry.
When I showed up for my evening class another wonderful person showed up with a cheeseburger from the best burger joint in town. I cried. She loves me. She brought me a cheeseburger!!! With fried onions and potato chips.
Tomorrow is my last day on prednisone. Hopefully I will make it though, get my homework done and get on with life.
Minus a nasty infection on my eye-lid.

I See the Hurt

2011-10-10T19:16:00.000-07:00

I generally arrive about twenty minutes before Candace is done with swimming practice. I will sit and study while I wait for her. Every day, without fail I see her.
And I see her hurt.
She is a middle school girl. She is always well dressed. Her hair is done nicely. She carries a trendy book bag. Her parents pick her up in a nice, new car.
What is different about this girl? She struggles to fit in. She is overweight.
I see the way the other kids treat, or rather, don't treat her. She is virtually ignored.
She stands on the sidewalk, eyes alert for her parents to pick her up from what ever after school activity she has been in. As she waits she looks about her at the other kids, eager for a little crumb of humanity to be passed her way.
A pretty, tall, slender girl who has just come from volley ball walks by. The hurting girl's face lights up for a moment. "HI HOLLIE!" She exclaims!
But Hollie just walks away, head turned to the opposite direction. She says hello to other girls, and they too ignore her. Intentionally looking the other way to avoid any association. The hurting girl's expression always falls.
Today she was trying so hard to talk to a girl. She was a bookish looking girl, straight hair, slacks, plain shirt. She was trying to read a book. The hurting girl kept trying to talk to her. The bookish girl would look up every now and then to nod, or maybe say hmm. But then she was right back in her book. The hurting girl danced uneasily beside her.
Then a teacher walked by with his son. He said hello to the hurting girl. She smiled and said hello. And then it was back to her awkward dance.
Her parents always pull up before Candace comes out of swimming. She always seems to sink a little more when she sees the car. It's as though she wanted just one little glimmer of compassion from some other middle school girl that she could call a friend.
I asked Candace if she knew who she was. The hurting girl must be in a different grade. Candace does not know who she is. I wonder if she is that invisible? Candace has always been the sort to reach out to other kids. One of my proudest moments as a mother was when her kindergarten teacher told me that she always reaches out to the kids who have no one playing with them, and makes sure they feel included. If I could point her out to Candace, I KNOW she would reach out to her. Candace has two friends, best friends, who are the same way. I am so proud of those girls. They reach out to everyone. I have been told this by a friend who worked as a para in their pod last year.
It's suicide prevention week at the middle school. Just stop and think about that for a moment. Yes, it might not be the popular thing for a middle school girl to befriend the chubby girl with hurt in her eyes. But, it's the right thing.
Because not only do I see the hurt, but I see the great value and potential in that beautiful, sad face. All she needs is a person to feel a connection to; a friend. And that will be the beginning of something wonderful. Something healing. Because no one should feel the kind of hurt I see in that girl.

Halloween Plans

2011-10-09T09:42:00.000-07:00

Ferb has been a pirate every year for Halloween since his second year of Kindergarten. I think it's part of his predictable autistic routine.
You can imagine my surprise when he told me last week that he wants to be a Lego man.
My first response was, "yes!" He wants to be something other than a pirate!
Then about 30 seconds later I was not so excited. How on earth am I going to make a Lego man costume? Pirate costumes are EASY. We've borrowed hats in the past. Some years I simply take a bandanna and tie it around his head. I took a sharpie to a white t-shirt that I had torn up and drew stripes on it. I ratted up jean shorts. One year my cousin gave us a pirate costume, and he's worn that one for three years in a row. But I still told him we'd be on the look out for Lego man costume ideas.
Then, a couple days ago, in Target, he saw foam swords in the dollar section. He grabbed one. His face lit up, and he declared he would be a pirate this year for Halloween! Phineas saw the swords and made the same declaration.
So this year I will have two pirates. That will make life easy for me. And cute.
Cause little pirates are some of the cutest things ever.

Ferb, the First Year as a Pirate

So This is How Popeye Feels...

2011-10-08T13:05:00.000-07:00

My left eyelid is swollen almost shut.
It started with a little lump on Thursday night. Friday it was a bit swollen. This morning, it was terrible. The little lump has almost a scabby look to it now. The entire eyelid is red and swollen.
I decided to have it looked at in the walk-in-clinic.
I saw Dr. House. Ok, it wasn't Dr. House, but that's what it sounded like when the nurse told me, "you'll be seeing Dr. House today." It was actually Dr. Howes. He had excellent bedside manners. Very funny. He took a look at my eye-lid and said, "well that's very attractive!"
He squeezed it, cultured the gunk, and px oral anti-biotics, topical antibiotics, and prednisone. The prednisone is for the ITCHING. Cause it is swollen so badly it feels like it will burst, and it ITCHES. If I look up, ouch. It hurts. I laugh, it hurts. Not to mention limiting my vision.
The culture results will be done Monday or Tuesday.
I hope it gets better soon.

Sunny October and an IEP Team Meeting

2011-10-07T21:14:00.000-07:00

The weather here in the Northwoods has been unseasonably warm. I am loving it! People are still wearing shorts.
Yes.
Shorts. This far North. In October!!!!
I still bring jackets with me everywhere, and insist my kids take them to school.
Why? It's made it past 80 several times this week!
It's because weather up here can change in an instant. We can go from 80 to freezing in one day.
The wind hit this afternoon. Crazy pulling wind that desires to knock you over. It had in it that chill that seemed to say to me... this is October.
The IEP team met for Ferb. He is getting evaluated this month. So, we will have another meeting then. This one was to keep us all neatly in compliance.
I brought snacks... like I always do. Donut holes and Halloween candy.
Why? This team is a good one. No issues. Ferb gets his services. He is improving LEAPS AND BOUNDS!!! It's all good.
I bring treats because, just like the weather I have had IEP team meetings of the past turn very cold very quickly. Goodies seem to lessen the likely hood of that happening.
PLUS... (here's a tip for all of you IEP mommas) if you bring treats, not only does it endear you to the team, it keeps you in their thoughts. Bring LOTS of treats. Leave the extras there. Every time a team member comes into the break room, they will see the goodies. They will think fondly of you. They will keep your child and his needs in the fore front of their minds. This might even cause them to think of some new strategy for helping your child meet his IEP goals.
So just like you don't leave the house without your jacket this time of year in the Northwoods, so you should not attend IEP meetings without treats to share.

And I leave you with a totally unrelated picture. Just 'cause she's a cute dog. And a good dog.

Oh, there you are, Perry!

Calculated Risks of Hanging Out With Chickens

2011-10-06T07:17:00.000-07:00

Ferb loves chickens.

So does his best friend. Yes, Ferb has a best friend. It's a match made in ASD heaven! His best friend has aspergers. The two of them LOVE chickens. Ferb has a coop full, and his best friend does too.
Tuesday Ferb was at his best friend's house. They were, of course, hanging out with the chickens.
One of them pecked Ferb in the eye. Twice.
The best friend gave Ferb a pirate eye patch to wear. The eye was iced, wetting drops were put in it.
When I picked him up after class, his eye looked REALLY bad. So red.
I took him to the doctor Wednesday. He had a very very faint scratch on the surface of his eye. It was pretty long, but already healing. Whew. The Dr. said to use wetting drops and watch for infection. No patches, because an eye patch can keep germs in when they need to go out.
Today he informed me that his eye feels great.
And he still loves chickens.

Anxiety Day

2011-10-05T21:17:00.000-07:00

Wow! I just noticed that yesterday was my 200th post!

Phineas. Phineas. Phineas. Today was crazy. SO MUCH anxiety. I cannot even begin to describe it here. He flapped his feet from the moment they hit the ground this morning. And then his chatter began. He could not do ANYTHING without me there to guide him. He could not see anything without me there to point it out to him. At first I tried the tough love thing. "Pick up your back pack." But he screamed and carried on that he did not know where it was.
It was right in front of him.
So I stopped asking him to do things. Instead I said, "I am going downstairs to get you a clean jacket from your closet." It was frustrating. There were a million other things I could have been doing, but instead I was there, meeting him where he was at. Apparently he was at age 12 months today.
After I picked him up from school he was very chatty. He went to the Boys and Girls Club. He seemed to be regulated.
Then two and a half hours later when I picked him up...
It was all constant whining and chatter and ANXIETY.
He wanted to go to AWANAS. I told him he was going, and reminded him that I had a cub scout meeting, and that he was going to his cousin's house to go to AWANAS with him. (OK, it's his second cousin.) He was STARVING. He forgot his swimsuit so he could swim in cousin's pool. (I reminded him that it's October, the pool is probably put away, and that they would need to eat and then go to AWANAS.) He FUSSED. The car in front of us stopped. He yelled at me, "WHY ARE WE STOPPING?" I told him the car in front of us stopped, and we did not want to hit it.

I am told he was very well behaved at his cousin's house and at AWANAS. He did OK on the drive home, partly because I knew he would need some distraction, so he played with my DSI. Then we got home. At first I tried to parent him like a normal six year old. Didn't work. He was so tired and the ANXIETY was ratcheted up HIGH. I wish I knew why. Finally, I tucked him in, prayers, songs, hugs and kisses... And a hope for much better day tomorrow.

He's so cute!

Phineas in June

Calming Down

2011-10-04T20:47:00.000-07:00

Tuesdays are HARD.
I have class until 8:10. My first class starts at noon, and that is good. It gives me time to do some homework.
But today was different.
Kids up at 6:30. Of to school a bit late today, but no one missed the bus. They were out the door by 7:20.
I met people to barter at 9:00. (I traded toilet paper for winter boots for one of my kids. I love bartering. I'll make a mental note to blog about it later!) Then I was gonna study, but a friend called me to meet for "coffee." (I don't drink coffee, but there's just no other word to describe the quaint way of meeting up with friends for no other reason than to chat.)
At 10:00 I met up with my small group to prepare a presentation on the book "Waterlily." (It's a good one.)
At 11:15 I went to a social work club meeting.
At noon I went to class. Social Welfare Policy. This was the class I stayed up until 2 am last night catching up on papers for.
At 1:15 class was out, and I had to record a "clinical interview" with a partner who interviewed me for General Practice 1.
At 2:00 I went to GP1.
At 3:15 I rushed off to be home in time to meet the boys off the bus. We fed the chickens. Ate a snack. Then I took them to their friends' house.
At 4:50 I met Isabella's bus. Then I took her to her friend's house. They picked Candace up from swimming at 5:30.
At 5:30 I sat down in class to take an exam that I am sure I did very very poorly on. Stats. I am struggling with this class.
At 8:10 class was done. The test was over. I was exhausted. But first I had to pick up the girls. Then the boys. Phineas got pecked in the eye by a chicken. I will be taking him to the doctor in the morning. It looks very red. He wore a pirate patch over it.
9:30. Everyone is home and in bed.
Except me. I am doing homework
I need to do laundry, and my house is a mess. Clutter is piling up. (This house is designed to collect clutter.) But I just don't know when I will fit it in.
One of my old surfing buddies posted on facebook that she is surfing right now.
I am a little jealous. I miss those days. I miss the ocean. Once upon a time Tuesdays were my surf days. Not any more. Now Tuesdays are my crazy cram it all in days.
There is a part of me that just wants the next two years to fly by so I can be done with my BSW and move on to my MSW. But... in two years my kids will be 14, 13, 11 and 8. They are growing up so fast, and I do not want to miss a moment of it.
Another picture. The snapper we found laying eggs in our driveway in June.

It's October?

2011-10-04T06:06:00.000-07:00

On a whim I decided to check my stats, and yesterday my blog had EIGHTY-THREE hits! All thanks to this momma's blog! Well, it's been more than a month since my last entry, so I decided to blog again. For a couple of different reasons.
One being that MY COMPUTER IS FIXED!!! The culprit was a bulging battery. It was bulging up into the keypad and making my cursor go where it should not. It is not cheap to replace a battery on a MacBook, but it's a whole lot cheaper than replacing the entire MacBook!
Two being that it is October. I seem to remember that last October I participated in some NABLOWRIMO thing where I blogged daily for the entire month. I think it's too late to join in the NABLOWRIMO party, but I will attempt to get back into the blogging swing of things.
So a quick recap of the past month? It's all a whirl of school and papers and exams. I have one today. I am not ready for it. I did have an exciting invitation extended to me to teach one of my classes for a day. The class is lifespan development, and the topic is emotional development. I AM SO EXCITED! I love to teach, and my professor paid me such a high compliment in asking me to consider doing this! Keep in mind that I am only an undergrad too.
Phineas saw the ortho from Shriners, and his feet do in deed turn in. It has something to do with his shin bones not being where they should be. He said that they used to put painful braces on kids with his problem, but most kids grow up just fine, and being pigeon toed is not as bad as having uncomfortable braces hindering life for a couple years. He said that people with his condition tend to be really fast runners. I chuckled at that, because when he runs it looks so inefficient, but so fast! He told me to pay attention to pro football players, and it's true! Most of them run the same way Phineas does! I was told to bring him back to the yearly Shriners clinic just to have it monitored. And the pain, just as I suspected. It's growing pains. That boy grew one inch from September 1st to September 22nd!
I also was able to spend one glorious weekend with other moms like me who have adopted. It was amazing. I'll let you read about it here. I have to get myself to school!
I'll leave you with a picture. It's Candace at the state fair with her January Breeding Gilt, Pigtricia. I am so proud of her. That blue shirt she is wearing sets her apart as a showmanship finalist! And she is only 12 years old!

Foot Flapping

2011-09-03T22:12:00.000-07:00

If anxiety had a gauge to read, for Phineas foot flapping would be it. I can always tell the level of anxiety in his life by the volume of his foot flapping.
Let me define foot flapping. When Phineas walks he flaps his feet down HARD on the floor. This gives him great sensory input. While it is very annoying to the rest of the household, it is his way of giving his central nervous system some deeper input and then he can regulate a little more.
But... Every step these past couple weeks has been LOUD. HARD. FLAP FLAP FLAP. It sounds like there's an elephant running across the floor. The cavernous open floor plan echoes the sound. Great auditory input.
And while we're on auditory... let's just say this child turn the volume of his voice up as high as it can go, and then he pulled the knob off. There is no turning down his volume. It hurts to have a conversation with him.
This is all a sign of anxiety.
What could be the cause of this anxiety?
Oh lots and lots and lots of things.
We recently took a trip to the state fair to see Candace show her pig. (I AM SO PROUD OF HER! SHE WAS A SHOWMANSHIP FINALIST!!!)
His dad and I just finalized our divorce in June. True, we have been separated for a year now... but still. To have it final was something that brought home the reality that mom and dad are not getting back together.
I started school two weeks ago, and he has been spending a lot of time at the Boys and Girls Club. He loves it there. It's a good place for my kids to be while I am in class. But... it's new. He freaks out over his membership card. (He's already lost it twice.) It's just a new situation.
His dad just got remarried, and tomorrow he goes to see them. My kids were not at the wedding. (I think it was hastily planned, and I did not know about it until after the state fair trip plans were set, and it took place while we were gone to the state fair.) He is excited to see his dad, and a little anxious. It will be at a new house. Things will be different. He does not know what to expect. I do not know what to tell him about what he can expect.
School starts Tuesday. He is excited and anxious. I went though his school supplies with him. I hid his back pack. He found it. I think I have recovered the school supplies that he left strewn across the kitchen. He has the same teacher his brother had for 1st grade, and I think that helps him be less anxious since he spent some time with me in that classroom.
In mid September he has an appointment to be evaluated by Shriners. He is terribly knock kneed and pigeon toed. It is getting worse, and he complains frequently that his legs hurt. I am excited to have him evaluated by the ortho. One of two good things will happen. He will get a clean bill of health with legs that are fine and pain that is just related to growing. OR... he will need some help from the ortho to get his legs straight, and then he will be fine. He knows he has an appointment. He knows they are going to look at his legs and see if there is anything they can fix to make it stop hurting.
So while all these events would leave a typical child feeling a little anxious... it leaves him feeling like the world is COMPLETELY out of control. He takes control where he can. He eats everything in sight. He moves constantly. He YELLS as a way of communicating. He pushes the buttons of his siblings. And he flaps his feet.

I have a lot to say...

2011-08-16T18:59:00.000-07:00

BUT, MY STINKING COMPUTER IS ACTING UP!
When I type, the cursor moves back, entire sections get highlighted and deleted, and, I must type slow to catch it before I delete everything I type.
I am sending one kid with her pig to the state fair. I cannot afford a new computer. Plus, I really do love my MacBook.
So, that said, does anyone out there in the blogosphere know anything about this issue with a MacBook and how to fix it?
School starts Monday, and I REALLY need a functioning computer!

Another Summer Adventure!!! Dragon Boat Races!!!

2011-08-07T21:37:00.000-07:00

There have been a few things I have been interested in doing these past three or so years. Three of them being, wear fishnet panty-hose, be a roller derby girl, and paddle on a dragon boat team.
Well, the fishnet thing... there's really few acceptable situations to wear them.
Unless you are a derby girl.
I have been told my my doctors that being a derby girl is out of the question. Why? Because of my low bone density (thank-you year and a half of prednisone) and my anemia. With those issues I really can't go careening down a track on roller skates being body slammed by other women. My bones would break, and then I'd hemorrhage.
The dragon boat dream? Well, no one ever asked me to be on a team. And the races were always during the county fair.
Not this year. This year they were the weekend BEFORE the fair.
And... the derby girl team needed a few extra paddlers!
SO! I got to wear fishnets, be a derby girl (minus the skates) and paddle on a dragon boat team!!! It was so much fun. Saturday I ~~pawned the boys off~~ found a sitter for my boys, and took my girls to the water front where we had a great afternoon together!
I think the derby girls talked me into being a referee!

It's a little hard to see, but that's us. We were in second in that heat until the very end. Intense and FUN!

There is no compensation.

2011-08-07T21:21:00.000-07:00

The rift continues to grow between my youngest son and his siblings. (Read, today was a really bad day. Except for the part where we went to the beach. And church. For some reason Phineas held it together for his second cousins birthday party and church. The rest of the day was... well... not good. Lots and lots of sibling war.)
It is hard to understand for even me. I try. My approach to his behavior becomes punitive. It does not work. Yet, I fall back on that tough love thing time and time again because it is what I know. It is what the world seems to expect. Your child misbehaves. You PUNISH them.
I know that when I tell him, "no, you may not do X because you did Y and that was a bad choice. Next time try doing Z" he does not hear that. He hears, "I do not love you." This child has boundaries, but he does not see them. He sees instead a world full of restrictions put in place by a mother who he perceives does not love him.
The punitive approach is not working. It does not work. It has never worked for him. It never will.
This recent blog post really hit home for me. So many of my daily interactions with him are way too focused on his behavior. What choice he will make. My behavior has become hyper-vigilant to be on guard for his bad behavior. I am on guard for his manners, his actions, his extreme need for physical activity. I try to meet those needs, but let's be honest. I am just one momma. I still feel like that is no excuse. I still hope that one day this will all sink in and he will turn out to be a model citizen. One day he will revel in the love that is shown through my boundaries and my expectations. The reality is that one day he will most likely be on the phone with me accusing me of making his childhood miserable. He will not remember the fun times we spent laughing and playing at the park so clearly as he will remember the times I had to pull the van over and make him stand in a time out with his nose against the van. But, I don't know how to change that. I don't know how to stop the fighting in the back seat. It gets so bad the van rocks. The girls hate spending time with him. Ferb does his best to ignore the taunting, but then blows up.
I tried to explain it to my girls today. I tried to tell them that they need to stop expecting compensation. They need to stop expecting justice. They do not get it. They are all so young and still see the world as a place where good gets rewarded, and bad gets punished. Then bad stops because the punishment is not fun. Too often I hear Isabella shout, "PUNISH HIM, MOM!" And I don't know what to do. I don't want to punish him. I know it will not work. I want to help him. I tried to explain that compensation does not exist when you are dealing with a child who was harmed by actions that happened before he was even born.
It's funny how sometimes the very thing you need to hear or read just happens to fall into your ears or eyes. Today I read this. These words in particular struck a chord with me:
'"At the end of the day you have to decide...do I help somebody or do I punish them?"
When the world does not understand FASD, they respond only to the behaviors, not the need.'
Now, Phineas has not been dx with FASD. I am told he is too smart. What I do know is that his birth mother did admit to drinking before she found out she was pregnant. I do not know how far along she was, but she was a teenager, so she may have been well into the pregnancy before she knew.
I am not blaming her. Her life circumstances put her in a position where she was only doing what she knew to be the norm. My heart goes out to her.
And yet, as I parent the son she gave life to, I find myself increasingly falling into frustration. These words from this post hit home for me as well:
"When we do not fully understand or are not supported in understanding the needs of our children, we can spiral into a toxic consequence cycle. When this typical parenting approach does not work with our atypical children, we might understandably sink even deeper in this punitive approach. When the world steps in and sees our behaviors at that point, they become quite concerned...as they should. But they have no understanding of how this happened. The needs that brought about this cycle are not addressed. There is only blame and punishment."
Blame and punishment leading to more blame and punishment and on and on.
Meanwhile, there is a child who has needs that are not being met. Perhaps they are shuffled from one home to another, only to begin the cycle over again. Perhaps the person parenting that child is pushed over the edge. The world does not see the events leading up to this, but they see a horrible adult inflicting pain on a child. Now, I do not condone such abuse, I have to say that I understand it a little more. When I hear of a child being abused, especially by foster or adoptive parents, my first thought is not with how that adult is so so very evil. My first though is "what has this family been through and how come they did not get appropriate help/support/education/respite?" (APPROPRIATE is the key word. I can get a few hours of respite, but if they are with an unqualified individual, and often that is the case, I have an even more difficult child to deal with upon respite ending.)
It is hard to find anyone with any real understanding of just what it takes to raise a child with FASD. The bulk of support comes from people I have never met in real life. These people who get that the typical approach to raising a child just doesn't work with a child who has FASD. And yet the implementation of alternative parenting methods is HARD. It is not understood. There is little support. Experts minimize it. Therapists tell you to stop catasrophizing.
Statistics show, "If you've got fetal alcohol, 75-85% chance you're going to jail."
I will not let my son fall into that statistic. And yet, how much control do I really have?
I don't know what the answer is. I know that love alone is not enough. If it was, my child would be healed. I love him more than I can describe. I wish that my will were enough, my hope, my faith and my determination. But it is not. I think that I need to stop expecting compensation, and just focus on the bridge I build between his heart and mine.
That and a soundproof barrier between him and his siblings in the back seat of the van.

Another Summer Adventure!!! SCUBA DIVING!

2011-08-03T19:58:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago a friend called to let me know that his daughter was coming to visit, and that he wanted to do something fun with her and my girls, and wanted to know what I thought about SCUBA DIVING!!!
(Ok, so above mentioned friend is my ex-brother-in-law. So that would make him my kids' uncle, and his kid and mine cousins. There. Hope that was clear as mud.)
Well. Scuba diving is kind of a family thing. My grandma, who is in her 80's, scuba dives. She even went to Antarctica a couple years ago!!!

My Grandma is so cool.

Then, a few days ago, my friend asked me if I wanted join them in the adventure! I hesitated, told him I'd need to find someone to watch Phineas and Ferb, and that I needed to know how much the "experience" would cost. Well. He told me it would cost me NOTHING. WOW! That's some amazing friend!!! It was all on him! He even packed a picnic lunch!
This was not a certification class, it was an "experience." We filled out forms, watched a video, got some instructions and got fitted in wet suits. Then we headed to one of the many many many many lakes in the area.
It was a beautiful day. Warm, but not too hot. Gentle breeze.
We received more instruction. We suited up. We performed tasks in the water to demonstrate our understanding of the training. (Things like filling our masks part way with water and then blowing it out under the water.) Then we went under.
It's a trippy feeling to BE under the water and breathing. Moving. After I got over the initial freak out, I really enjoyed it! I saw crayfish, panfish, clams, see weed, algae... I felt the rush of cold water from the underwater springs feeding the lake. I marveled at what looked like tiny highways made by the trails the clams left behind. It was very cool.
Candace and I were the first team to go out with the instructor. Then my friend, his daughter and Isabella went out. Isabella was the kid I was most worried about. She completed the tasks, but then as she swam out she kind of freaked out and came back. (Her cousin came back too.) She cried. She wanted to know why she wasn't as brave as Candace. I held her and told her she was her own kind of brave, and not to compare herself to Candace. I reminded her about her bravery when we were in that car accident back in January. She calmed down. Then she and her cousin snorkeled close to the dock.
When the instructor returned and began to pack up the gear, Isabella asked if she could try again. And SHE DID! She wanted to stick to shallow water. So she got a little bit of a dive in. It was pretty amazing. And she feels pretty amazing too. This kind of activity is just what she needs to give herself that boost of confidence. I can't give her that, no one can. Only she can conquer her fears.
Now my girls want to take the classes and get certified. But... that's pretty expensive, and the gear is not cheap! I just want to take a dive in my lake and see what's there. And maybe B-lake in town too. There must be some pretty cool stuff in that lake.
But, I can tell you, I will not be doing like my Grandma did back in the day and go diving for supper in the Puget Sound.

Grandma in the 1950's

Paddle Boarding

2011-07-31T14:23:00.000-07:00

Last summer as I drove the teenager who had been babysitting my kids home one afternoon I drove by a little shop in town that sells skate boarding, snow boarding and such stuff supplies. Leaning against the front of the store were paddle boards. They look kind of like a long board, only longer and thicker.

This is me and my long board in 2008.

Phineas is the little guy with the "shaka" on one hand, thumb in the mouth with the other hand.

I think I freaked the poor girl I was driving home out when I screamed and stopped the car. What on earth were these things doing in Northern Minnesota? I mean, there's NO WAVES to ride in this place. NONE!

Well, I got schooled. People ride paddle boards on LAKES. Still lakes. They just paddle around, and it's great exercise! They ride them on rivers, and even down snowy hills with the fins removed.

I was dying to try it out. I inquired about the price... for the entire set up, board, leash and paddle it runs about $1000. Yikes. That's way way out of my budget. Maybe someday when I'm not a poor student. Well, then I'll be a poor social worker... so maybe not even then. It's nearly impossible to find good used boards, because people love them so much they never sell them.

I had heard that the fine university I attend has ONE that they rent out. I wanted to try it. So yesterday with my brother and his wife visiting from out of state along for the ride I stopped by to inquire about renting it.

Turns out the hip little store that sells the treasures had three boards there for FREE DEMOS!! We demoed. I loved it. The lady running the demo had to whistle at me to come back. I wanted to paddle around the entire lake... but no. Others were waiting to demo the boards. I tried the board university rents. It was an INFLATABLE. Not anywhere near as slick as the Surftech boards.

Oh I am so hooked. And that was the brilliant marketing strategy of the hip little store. But, I lack the money. Even if I had $1000 dollars just laying around I'd be far more likely to oh SAVE it for emergencies, or put braces on my daughter's teeth...

As I drifted off to sleep last night I reveled in the delicious feeling of all my muscles. They were all that wonderful sore that tells you that you did indeed live that day. I miss that feeling.

True, paddle boarding was not the same as surfing, but it was about as close as I will ever get in this land-locked place. It was fun. A lot of fun! And now I dream of the day when I can indulge myself with one of those lovely boards...

Here's a little video explaining the boards:

Butterflies

2011-07-12T10:03:00.000-07:00

Every year since I can remember my kids have collected caterpillars and watched them in a glass jar as they ate milkweed and crawled around. In Hawaii they did it, and here in Minnesota too. We have an abundance of milkweed to attract Monarchs. Eventually they all spin cocoons. Little gold and green bundles that sleep and change.
I wonder what it feels like? Does it hurt? Change often does.
Most of the time only about half of the cocoons make it. This year is different. It appears that all six little caterpillars will be flying off to Mexico this winter. Two of them already have made their debut to the milkweed patch as monarchs. Two of them are currently drying their new wings in the glass jar as I type this post. One's cocoon has turned from green to clear. We can see the pattern of the wings beneath the surface. One last cocoon is still the precious gold and green. My kids are all excited to see the metamorphosis take place.
This morning I remarked to Candace and Phineas (Isabella and Ferb are at summer school) that I wondered what it was like to go to sleep all snug in cocoon as a clumsy little caterpillar and then wake up as a beautiful butterfly.
Phineas' reply was very telling.
"Mom. That would freak me out."
Yes, it would. Change often does affect us like that. It freaks us out. It must be comfortable for the caterpillar to just be who it is, crawling, eating. Then suddenly the spin their cocoons. I wonder if they know that they are turning into butterflies? Often changes, even good changes are difficult.
Often changes are difficult for the people in our lives as well. It's probably easier for the people around us to just deal with us as they always have. They may not even recognize the changes that have taken place. They may not like them because it means their roles change, and that's not easy.
And for our children, especially those of us with traumatized children. Change is never easy. It's scary and it can hurt. Sometimes I look at Phineas and say to myself, "you have it in you! Just become the butterfly! Leave the bad a and scary stuff in it's place. Move forward!" But it's hard. It's really really hard for him.
"Mom. That would freak me out."
It does freak him out. It's much easier to fall back into the old habits, especially when you are just six years old, than it is to move forward and embrace the butterfly you have the potential to become.
And yet here we sit, we parents to love these little children. Encouraging, loving, willing the caterpillar to weave its cocoon. Is it any wonder we are the ones they lash out at? We, who want nothing more than for the pain to take its rightful place so they can move forward without it's weight, are the ones who take the brunt of the frustration and the anger and the ugly of all that they believe they are because of the frustrating, angry and ugly things that have happened to them.
"Mom. That would freak me out."
It's a big deal, this change gig. A very big and scary deal. But on the other side of that change, there are butterflies.

A Butterfly from July of 2010

I'm Back. Again.

2011-07-08T18:35:00.000-07:00

It's been a long time.
I'm back.
There a lot of reasons why I did not blog for so long. One was called school. 19 credits. Yes. I am crazy. But, I walked away from that insanity with 2 B's and the rest A's. Not bad.
Then there was summer sessions. 4 classes. 12 credits. Crammed into 2 or 3 week increments. I thought my brain would explode. But.... I walked away from that insanity with FOUR A's BABY!
Another little thing called 4 kids kept me a little busy. Ok a lot busy.
I decided that my life is definitely a juggling act. Some balls are made of rubber. They bounce and you pick them up again with no major issues. Other balls are made of lead. If you drop them it's VERY VERY hard to pick them up again as they are so heavy. Some are made of glass, and if you drop them they will shatter. Putting them back together is tough. My kids are glass balls. I will not drop them. I only get one chance to raise them right, and I will not let them down. School is a lead ball. I hate bending over and picking heavy stuff up, so I will not drop that ball. Ever. My house, my blog, yard work, etc... all rubber balls. Yeah, my house was gross. But it's not the end of the world. Sure, my yard looks like red-neck central, but who cares. It's a rubber ball. I am not very good at juggling, so I feel quite happy that I can keep the kids and the school ball up in the air and going.
Now summer is here. The dates of my last class (canoe class) were changed and interfered with another class. So I had to drop it. I think it was changed due to an impending government shut down. But, the shut down did not affect the education system. I need that one teeny little phy-ed credit. Hopefully I can take it next summer.

Tonight Ferb and I gave his dog, Belle, a bath. She's a boarder collie, and a farm dog. Ferb is showing her in the 4-H open dog show tomorrow. He's pretty excited. I love what this dog has done for my boy. He is learning some FAB SOCIAL SKILLS FROM HER!!! It's been a hot day, so we had cool water in the bath. She began to shiver. I pointed out to Ferb that his beloved pet was shivering. He stopped what he was doing.
"Do you think she's cold or scared?" I asked him.
He peered at her face. Looked at her shaking.
"I think she's cold, Mom. Lets use warmer water."
She is so in tune to him. She follows him everywhere and looks at him with THOSE EYES! You know, the puppy dog eyes that just scream LOVE! He loves her too. I think having her helped when we moved here almost three years ago. She is his friend and companion. If he is playing outside and completely oblivious to the fact that I am calling for him, she was come to my eyesight, and then look to where he is playing. I appreciate her excellent herding skills.
Every autistic kid needs a dog like Belle. She is a true gift and a blessing I am grateful for daily.

Ferb showing Belle at the 4-H Cloverbud show in 2010

Where Do Babies Come From, Anyway?

2011-05-01T12:21:00.000-07:00

If you ask my boys they might just say that you go pick them up. From somewhere. Or a caseworker brings them to your house. At one point Ferb explained that "babies fall down from heaven and into the mommy's tummy." I can live with that explanation.
Friday my mom had my boys so I could go watch a friend and her daughter preform in "I Never Saw Another Butterfly." (It was moving. I cried.) They fell asleep at my mom's house, so I let them sleep with plans to go get them in the morning before we all went to the March of Dimes March for Babies. They were up before I got there, and my mom told them that we were going to go March for Babies.
Phineas was thrilled!
"WE'RE GONNA GET A BABY!?!?!"
It had to be explained that no, we were not going to get a baby.
I kinda wish we were. I love babies. My kids love babies. I miss fostering babies. Even though they were mostly temporary, I loved taking care of them and helping their families heal. When there's a baby around my boys fight less. They are happier and want to help. I borrowed a friend's baby a few weeks ago. He rode in the car between my boys. There was not a fight the entire ride! Just LAUGHTER! The baby would giggle that delicious baby giggle, and the boys would laugh! It was magical.
Today Ferb had a rough sensory day in church. Every little noise was grating on him. He ended up with his fingers in his ears rocking on the pew. I took him in the hall where he hid under a table until he was self regulated. Then he came out and examined a pen he found under the table, drew a picture of a house, and began to get a little restless.
Then a baby entered. Well, she's more of a toddler. She had a ball toy thing that when you pressed it it popped open to a puppy or something. Ferb played with her. She giggled. He smiled. He hid the ball in one of the pockets on her sweater. She'd find it and hand it back, then he'd hide it in one of the pockets in his cargo pants. The game went on for a little while. He was so gentle and his face was so lit up. He was pulled from his autism annoyance for just a little while, and it was wonderful.
When the chaos in my life lowers to a dull roar I really hope I can foster again. My kids were good at being temporary siblings. They got it that these babies had families who were trying to get better.

The Things the Sing Thursday

2011-04-14T20:38:00.000-07:00

Somewhere, in Japan, is a vacation video with my girls, ages 2 and 3 singing this song, doing the actions, and just looking plain cute!
It's true. Japanese tourists love to take pictures and videos of little American kids. It never failed when we lived in Paradise and were out and about in a touristy area for a Japanese tourist to stop me, motion to my kids and say, "so cute! May I?" and then hold up a camera. This might sound creepy, but it wasn't. It was just the way it was.
So one day, we were eating at a plate lunch joint on the North Shore when surprise surprise my two little girls had to go to the bathroom. We went to the bathroom and it was full of Japanese tourists. We waited in line, and I instructed my girls to dance and sing. That's what we had to do when waiting in line to keep Isabella from going crazy.
Before we knew it the cameras came out. "SO CUTE! May I?"
Of course.
My two little blond angels then began to sing and dance and put on a show that was worthy of Japanese vacation videos.
Maybe more than worthy.
We had laughter and applause and joy that day, in line in a grungy bathroom of a very delicious plate lunch place on the North Shore.
I hope the joys continues every time the videos are viewed!

Tough Love -or- Did I Really Screw Up?

2011-04-14T06:59:00.000-07:00

Every morning it is the same story.
Shoes, back packs, coats, all set out the night before make it on to each child.... except Phineas.
It doesn't matter. I can do all within my power to get this child dressed and ready to go. He takes things off. He carries his shoes and leaves them somewhere. I know where they are. I tell him, "your shoes are on the living room floor. Go put them on."
Never fails, he returns to me and says, "I can't find my shoes." Sometimes I take him by the hand and wordlessly point to the shoes. Sometimes I threaten. Sometimes I ask his sister to help him. Sometimes I yell. It's just so dang frustrating. EVERY DAY, people. EVERY FRICKIN DAY. He's six, I'm the adult, but I tell you this is insane. It's more than a child who is being a child. It's a trauma kid who may or may not have fetal alcohol affects. Maybe I am expecting too much for him to actually get his shoes on with no fanfare? Maybe he is manipulating me? I don't know.
Monday, Wednesday and Friday they ride the bus to school. Tuesday and Thursday I drive them on my way to class. My dad is not usually home during the week, but today he was home sick. I told Phineas he had five minutes to get his things on, and then I was leaving. He could ride the bus if he did not comply.
Guess what?
He did not comply. Shocker, right.
So I left my attachment challenged anxiety ridden six year old home to ride the bus. My poor sick dad had to walk him to the bus stop.
As I drove away I wondered if I am gonna end up paying for this later.
Candace (age 12) remarked about half way to the school, "It's so quiet." She paused. "I feel a little guilty."
Me too. On one hand, it was pure heaven to be in that car on a quiet ride. No fights. No endless chatter. No pointless questions. My three older kids got a start to the day that did not include the stress and anxiety of a little brother who can really push their buttons.
But the point still remains. I left my trauma kid. My dad said he cried and cried.
I wonder if he learned his lesson. I wonder if he is capable of learning the lesson. I wonder if I screwed up this morning.

April 2nd is World Autism Awareness Day

2011-04-02T19:41:00.000-07:00

Here it is, World Autism Awareness Day, and I have been away from my autistic son all day. He still takes up much of my thoughts.
Phineas qualified for state wrestling, and after talking with his coach, I decided to take the leap and drive from B-town several hours south to a town famous for it's hospitals and clinics - so that Phineas could compete. And wouldn't ya know it, the cute kid is on to finals tomorrow morning. He will either place 3rd or 5th. I couldn't be more proud! I was thrilled to have the time with just me and him, and yet, I often find myself thinking about how different the trip would be had Ferb been with us.
The civic center is HUGE. The noise level alone would have sent me looking for a disappeared Ferb several times. The hotel room would have provided him ample opportunity to drive Phineas crazy. And me. And his brother. He would have loved the various skywalks that connect the building of this town. The armor in the lobby of the fancy smancy hotel we are staying in would have fascinated him. Sleep would have been near impossible in the hotel.
So, I have a break from autism, but it still permeates every moment of my life.
I miss my Ferb. He is having a good weekend. Catching up on chores as he has not been home the last couple weekends. I still miss him. Love him.

Ferb just before his 6th birthday at my sister's wedding.

I love how he's checking out the cake. I wonder what he's thinking!

Blogging as a Therapeutic Outlet

2011-03-27T18:52:00.000-07:00

There are many reasons that I blog. The altruist in me says I blog so others in the autism/trauma/adoption/sensory processing disorder/learning disability/anxiety/wango tango crazy life communities can learn from my adventures (and misadventures). But that is not all oh now that is not all. I blog to keep a record. I blog because I like an audience. I blog because it's fun. I blog because it's a great way to learn from others in the autism/trauma/adoption/sensory processing disorder/learning disability/anxiety/wango tango crazy life communities as we all read and comment on each others blogs.
And then I blog because it's therapeutic.
Take my last blog post, "Be Glad." It started as I had just read a friend's blog about her darling little girls. All three are healthy, under the age of two, active and about as cute as can be. (Seriously, her kids are some of the cutest I've ever seen!) What came through for me in her blog post was how exhausted she is. Well, yeah! I just wanted to shake her and say, "YOUR CHILDREN ARE HEALTHY AND WONDERFUL! God willing, you will never ever have to sit in an ambulance making deals with God to spare the life of your child. God willing you will never have to take your child from one expert to the next searching for answers and being told it's autism. God willing you will never spend huge chunks of your day working a sensory diet so your child can maintain regulation. Your children are typical, and you are exhausted. BE GLAD!" So - I started out with that in mind, but as I typed the words turned around on me. I ended up telling myself the very thing I set out to proclaim to the blogosphere. It's really not fair to expect that others who feel exhausted do not also feel gratitude. They do, I am sure. I am thinking that we all blog for a little bit of release and therapy. I, for one, am so glad that those words I typed yesterday twisted themselves around as I typed them until they landed in front of me - for me. So I will BE GLAD!

Be Glad

2011-03-24T21:42:00.000-07:00

I'll admit it. I get a little jealous when I read other blogs about people with their sweet, typical children who keep their momma's "on their toes." I remember the days of feeling that way. Days spent with my children, playing with them, reading with them, trying to not let the house look too falling apart. It was a busy busy job. I was tired and sometimes overwhelmed, but it was manage-able and wonderful!
My whole world changed when Isabella got hurt. (Age 2, kick in the head by a horse, life-flight 2 1/2 hours away, skull fracture and bleeding on the surface of her brain, re-learning to walk, massive tantrums, and by massive I mean hours of screaming...) Things got even more tricky as Ferb developed (or didn't) and was diagnosed with autism.
But you know what? I handled it well. I pushed forward. I love my kids. I educated myself and became an advocate. Life was under control. I reached out to other kids and did foster care. I adopted my Phineas.
I still feel like I've got the chaos down to a dull roar most days. Some days I want to SCREAM. Some days I feel jealous. Envious.
I'd love to feel just regular overwhelmed by busy, healthy children who don't have learning disabilities, autism, anxiety, attachment issues, possible FAE, sensory processing disorder and whatever else. I'd like to say, yeah, I'll get to the laundry and the dishes, and my children will help. But no, it's kind of a crap shoot if my house will be presentable or not, and who knows if asking Isabelle to do the dishes will send her into a tizzy of emotions because her day has been too overwhelming. Who knows if Phineas will just not push Ferb's buttons and play without incident. Who knows anything about how the day will go and who will and who will not do the wango tango.
I'm a little jealous today, and it's ok. Because as soon as I log off here I'm gonna go sneak into my kids rooms just to look at their sweet sleeping (YAY!) faces and be glad.

The Things They Say Thursday

2011-03-24T21:23:00.000-07:00

My boy's current favorite jokes are the interrupting knock knock jokes.

For example:
-Knock knock.
-Who's there?
-Interrupting cow.
-Interrupting c-
-MOO!

They have modified the joke with other animal sounds. They tell them over and over again with different animal sounds until they are laughing so hard they can barely breath! It is the most hilarious thing! I end up laughing hysterically too!

Conference

2011-03-18T14:58:00.000-07:00

Anyone in Minnesota going to this?
I went last year for the second half of the second day and loved it. (A friend could not go, and asked if I wanted her slot.) I would LOVE to go this year, but just now heard about it, and missed the early bird prices. If a group goes, the rates are a little bit lower.
Last's year bit that I got to attend was wonderful. Lots of good information. If you are anywhere near the area, I highly recommend this conference.

The Things They Say Thursday

2011-03-17T19:05:00.000-07:00

So Phineas and Ferb wrestle. It's fun. They enjoy it a lot. It gives them lots of appropriate sensory input during these long long winter months.
Phineas has discovered that winning feels good. When he goes to a tournament, he wrestles to win. He has discovered that wrestling is more than playin' around, it's intellect and ATTITUDE. He found that when he wakes up in the morning with the attitude that he will win, HE DOES! Up until this Tuesday, the self talk had been appropriate and within the confines of our home, car and his head.
Then Tuesday. Hahaha. We were at a small tournament. He got bracketed up and was waiting with the other three boys in the hall. He was the second biggest kindergartener at 65 lbs. (The biggest was 78 lbs!) The other two boys in his bracket were I think 61 lbs. They all made friends as the kindergarteners always do, invited each other to birthday parties and all.
Then he said it. He suddenly stood up straight, pointed to the boys and said, "I'm gonna pin you, and you, and maybe you! And I'm gonna win first place!"
They all looked at him with some trepidation. He's a tough looking kid.
I pulled him aside and explained that he needs to keep his thoughts to himself, but he didn't get it.
"But mom, I really am gonna win."
Then they wrestled.
And wouldn't ya know it.
He pinned all three of them.
After each win he did a little victory "I WON" dance.
I told him to tone it down. I mean, a couple of the other boys were CRYING.
I don't know what I'm gonna do with this kid.
Gotta figure out how to teach him a little humility and sportsmanship.

Ferb's Progress

2011-03-14T20:53:00.000-07:00

This will be a picture heavy post.

The pictures speak for themselves as to the progress my son, Ferb, has made.

I find it remarkable.

Age 3

Spring 2005

Ferb begins speced preschool.

All day 5 days a week.

Lots of OT, Speech therapy and skills training begins.

He is blessed to have some of the very best teachers.

Notice that he is not looking at the camera. He is not sure what to do.

Age 3

Fall 2005 Preschool

He has figured out that he must smile, but it is forced.

Looking at the camera is hard.

Age 4

Spring 2006 Preschool

He is smiling and really making a huge effort to look at the camera.

He likes his Scooby Doo outfit!

Age 4

Fall 2006 Kindergarten (1st go round)

Still not looking at the camera, but his smile is more relaxed and natural.

(Long story about him starting Kindergarten at age 4. That's how they do it in Hawaii.)

Age 5

Fall 2007 Kindergarten (The Repeat)

He's looking at the camera!

Yay for Ferb!

Yay for all his teachers, skills trainer and therapists!

He could not have done it without you!

Age 6

Spring 2008 Kindergarten (The Repeat)

I still see the effort in his face to look at the camera.

He was very proud of his missing tooth!

Age 6

Fall 2008 1st grade

We are in the Northwoods now.

He's got the picture taking thing down!

Age 7

Spring 2009 1st grade

Not looking at the camera, but this pose is different from the others.

Age 7

Fall 2009 2nd grade

I can see the effort made to look at the camera and smile, but I can also see that he is enjoying it!

His eyes open wide like that when he is forcing himself to look where it is not natural for him to do so.

Age 8

Spring 2010 2nd grade

He's doing great.

I love this kid.

Age 8

Fall 2010 3rd grade

He's come so far.

Things like smiling and looking at the camera may not have come naturally to him, but he learned those behaviors. Still today when I take a snapshot of him he aims his face to the camera, but his eyes look to the side. When I remind him to look at the camera, he usually says, "oh, yeah," and then forces his eyes to look at the camera. It's the same with eye contact when speaking. I don't force him to make eye contact when he speaks to me, however. I have noticed that it is far easier for him to communicate if he is not concentrating on making eye contact.

I love looking at these pictures. To me they are solid evidence of the progress he has made!
And, editing to add that it's also evidence that's he a pretty darn cute kid!

The Things They Say Thursday - Cross Country Road Trip and Wedding Edition

2011-03-10T19:20:00.000-08:00

Phineas fell asleep shortly after leaving B-town. Oh, about six hours later he woke up in Bismark. First words out of his mouth, "Are we still in B-town?"
Gosh I hope not.
Once in Tacoma we needed to get my dad and my son, Phineas, to Men's Wearhouse to have their tuxedos fitted. We were told it was across the street from the mall, but struggled to find it. I told my boys to watch for Men's Wearhouse. Without skipping a beat, Phineas said,

"Yeah. Because men like to wear houses."

He looked so handsome!

While at the Pacific Science Center we got to visit the Butterfly House. We were told upon entering not to touch the butterflies, but if we sat very still one might land on us.

Well, Phineas, bless his heart... he sat. STILL. This is HUGE. HE SAT STILL. Then it happened. A butterfly LANDED ON HIM! He was so happy.

After sitting still with the butterfly on him for a very long time, he exclaimed to me,

"MOM! I think he thinks I'm a tree!"

A few more minutes passed. (Miracles do happen!)

"I'm gonna name him Huggy, cause it's like he's hugging me."

Cute cute cute.

He had to say goodbye before we left, too.

Other funnies - Ferb just approached me and said, "When I grow up I will not have facebook. It's boring. I'd much rather play games."

I'm Back

2011-03-09T18:46:00.000-08:00

It's been a while since my last post. I keep meaning to blog... but seriously, folks. Do the math. 19 credits plus 4 kids... (and those kids are not "typical") equals... well. Who really knows. All I know is that this semester is harder than last, but more enjoyable. I love all my classes, but there SO MUCH READING. I read and read and read and then feel like none of it stuck. What I love to do is write papers.
As a mater of fact... last week we drove to Tacoma for my little brother's wedding. (Long story. We were supposed to take the train, but Amtrak derailed. Literally.) I had fabulous plans of blogging each day of the trip, but those fell by the wayside. What I did do was write a nine page paper as my dad drove through some scary mountain passes. Scared by my recent trauma of the roll-over, I could not watch out the window. So I busied myself with my paper. I think it's a pretty good paper too. All about non-verbal communication. Yes, nine pages. And I could have written more.
The trip was a wonderful break from everyday life. My kids traveled well. My dad tried to rent a van after Amtrak canceled, but when he went to pick it up, the rental company said NO! Why? Apparently there were too many miles on it, and they had to send it to the cities to be sold. So no van. We ended up taking my dad's Accord, and my Uncle & Aunt drove their little Ford. My girls rode with my Uncle and Aunt, and the boys rode with my dad and I. They did great until Phineas got tired. Then he was a monster. I had to order him to stop talking. He'd fuss and whine than BAM he would sleep.
I LOVED Washington. The people, the weather, the sites... The radio stations were like flash backs to the 90's. With our local science center memberships we got in free to the Pacific Science Center. It was AMAZING! (I will post pictures later.) The Imax was in 3-D. We saw The Ultimate Wave Tahiti. In one of the opening scenes a ball is kicked and it feels like it's gonna hit you! My kids all jumped! There were scenes that showed how the solar systems rotate to influence the tides. My kids were mesmerized. They reached out to touch the planets. It felt like they were right in front of us! The coolest was the ocean shots. When the water splashed up and dripped on the camera lens it looked like it was dripping down your 3-D glasses!
Then we saw the Space Needle. It was very cool. I love that my kids are all old enough to remember it. It was worth the price. I will have to get with it and post pictures later!
Then the reason for the trip: my brother's wedding! It was lovely. Phineas was the ring bearer, and he did a a great job! I was a bridesmaid. The bride was beautiful. My sister made the cake, and it was delicious. Ferb got down and really surprised us all with his dancing skills! I taught him how to two-step. I had no idea he had rhythm like that!
The trip back was depressing. The further east we got, the colder and snowier it became.
I am ready for spring. But it's March. In the Northwoods. It might be a while yet.
So I'm back. I'll try to post more often, and more pictures. I also need to get caught up on the blogs I follow! If I missed anything big, let me know!

Darned If I Do, Darned If I Don't

2011-02-13T14:45:00.000-08:00

So. Life with two boys is gonna be crazy busy. Multiply that by a gazillion if you have one boy with autism and another with attachment issues/behavior issues/anxiety/sensory processing disorder/FAE/heaven only knows what else.
Best this for these two boys: wrestling.

But, the one huge issue I have with these two is the way they handle potentially anxiety heavy situations.
Ferb, the autistic one, needs lots of warning. He needs to know what is happening in advance. Basically, you don't spring anything on him. He likes to know what is happening, when it's happening, and how it's happening. If he is kept in the dark about ANY of these issues, it's a recipe for melt down.
Phineas, the other one, he frets and worries and makes himself and everyone around him crazy in anticipation of ANYTHING. If there's a party coming up, he flips. He wants to go. He worries that he will miss it, be left out. He freaks out. He doesn't want to go, he wants to go... WE SHOULD HAVE LEFT HOURS AGO BECAUSE WE'RE GONNA MISS IT and it doesn't start for two more hours. If his weekend for seeing dad is coming up, he freaks. If he knows his sisters are going, he freaks that he's missed his weekend. If he knows his weekend is coming up, he bounces literally and figuratively off the walls. I try not to tell him until it's almost time to go... but then that seriously messes Ferb up. Cause he needs to know WAY in advance what's going on.
Like wrestling.
Today was the big home meet. It's a big deal. (We even skip church for it.) It's not something I can keep from Phineas, since his coaches have been talking about it for a while now. Last night I let them stay up a little later than usual to watch the Disney animated "Robin Hood." (Love that movie.) Phineas was still up way before the crack of dawn. First words out his mouth this morning were, "I'm gonna wrestle smart today. And I'm gonna pin kids. And I'm gonna win."
Must have worked, cause he did it. He pinned two out of three opponents and won first place.

But still, he's on wired mode now. Very proud of his accomplishment, and very tired, and very talkative, and very energized... It's kind of making the rest of the house feel a little crazy. Well, a lot crazy.
Wrestling is not something we're gonna quit. One, cause Phineas has some talent. Two, cause it's much needed for meeting sensory needs in these long winter months.
Whatever the activity, I have a choice to make. Tell them about and keep Ferb happy. Or. Keep them in the dark until the last minute, and keep Phineas happy.
So where does this leave me? I feel like no matter what choice I make, I sacrifice one son's mental well being for the other son's mental well-being.
Not fun. But I am proud of my boys. Ferb placed 4th, and Phineas placed 1st.

And the Good News is...

2011-02-09T19:44:00.000-08:00

I am tired. NORMAL TIRED PEOPLE! Seriously. I don't feel like laying down and never ever getting up again. At the end of the day I sit down and think about getting to bed so I can tackle the next day instead of sitting down and wondering how I am going to find the energy to get my sorry self in bed. It's a wonderful feeling! I hay the horses, and I don't feel like every fiber in my being is going to fall down and never get back up! I put wood on the fire and go in and enjoy the warm house instead of going in and laying down and wondering where I will find the energy to take care of my kids. Thyroid meds are wonderful. I am so glad mine are WORKING! Finally! Or maybe it's the unusual amount of calcium supplements I am taking to combat the hypocalcemia. At any rate, I'm just glad to feel like a regular old tired momma again instead of a fall down and never get back up tired momma! It's so nice to walk to and from class and not have to stop half way to rest. It's so nice to keep up with my boys. It's just so nice to feel like I'm at that level of normal where there is HOPE. It is very depressing to have a body that just won't cooperate. I am so grateful to the doctors and nurses who have helped me get to this point.
But, it's not over. The vitamins I take make my tummy upset. Blech. My bone density is low. I'll have to be monitored for hypo-calcemia and thyroid function. The bones in my feet keep chipping. (Left foot chipped stepping out of the truck. Then a random child fell on that foot while I was watching my boys wrestle. Ouch.) There is still pain, but it's so much more manageable with a functioning thyroid. Chipped bones are a pain, but nothing compared to a break. I'll take chips any time. It's just wonderful to feel somewhat normal again! Functioning!

Brrr

2011-02-01T21:39:00.000-08:00

It's cold outside. -11 kind of cold. I've been told that it's warmer than that right now in Antarctica and Siberia.
I am ready for winter to be over.
This time of year is busy. I keep it busy on purpose. It makes the winter go by fast.
For starters. The boys are in wrestling. This keeps us busy and it give the boys an outlet for their energy. It's the very best sport there is for autistic kids and sensory seeking kids. They wrestled at a tournament this weekend. Ferb got third in his bracket, and Phineas got fourth. He was a little upset about that, because "fourth means last, mom." It's true. There's only four kids in a bracket. But his bracket was TOUGH. It was pretty evenly matched. He lost his first match by one point.
Candace turns twelve tomorrow. My groundhog. TWELVE. She is still the cutest little thing. She competed in her first speech meet ever tonight. SHE GOT A WHITE RIBBON!!! In her category of discussion, two people got white, one got red and one got blue. I am so dang proud! It's so fun to be with her and talk with her about the topics they are covering for discussion. I mean, she looks like an itty bitty little thing, but there she is. Talking with real big words about current events. I am loving it! She is just one of the neatest kids ever!
Isabella opted out of basketball this season. Thank-goodness. The team travels A LOT. She's keeping busy with school.
Me - I have had three tests this week. (Well, one was more of a quiz... but still.) I have one more test Thursday. Fun times.
And our kitty got fixed. Her scar on her tummy looks like a belly-button. It's funny. She's still perky as ever and playful. When the vet tech took her back for surgery I told her to take care of Pumpkin 'cause she's the best cat ever. She smiled and nodded at me. But I'm not just saying that because she's my cat. I'm saying that because she really is.

Getting Learned

2011-01-28T20:57:00.000-08:00

Since I am in school full time, full full time, 18 credits full time... it takes up a lot of my life right now.
Hahaha. I just re-read that sentence. "It takes up a lot of my life right now" is kind of an understatement.
I like all my classes this semester. The hard part is all the reading I have to do. At the end of a chapter sometimes I stop and go, "wha? What did I just read anyway?" So often none of it sticks. At all.
It's funny that a part of my life that is so very time consuming is something that I don't really blog about much. Yeah, when I'm not in school I'm taking care of my kids, and my kids are not typical kids. They're high needs. They're not the kind of kids you can just let go and develop normally. They require a kind of attention and investment that consumes a momma like me. So when I'm not in school and my kids are in bed I am studying. When I need a break, I check the blogs I follow and maybe blog a little myself.
(I won't even comment on the state of my house right now. It's just low low low on the priority list. The dishes get done, the garbage gets out and the laundry gets washed. That's about all the housework I have time for.)
I'm thinking that once a week, maybe Fridays, I will blog about a class or something I learned that week.
It's Friday. Here's my first blog about school.
My first class on Monday is Intro to Indian Studies. When I registered for the class I was thinking about minoring in Indian Studies. I'm not thinking about it anymore, I have decided that I will minor in Indian Studies. I am really enjoying this class.
The first thing that struck me, I mean REALLY struck me in a very emotional way is the fact that I am 35 years old, and for the first time in my life I learned about smallpox blankets.
Let me back up... remember in the months after 9-11 when there were letters with "powdery white substances" and big scares about anthrax attacks? Remember when people were saying that this was the first time on American soil that biological warfare was being waged?
Well, people were wrong.
During the 1760's in the French and Indian War British Commander in Chief in North America had blankets taken from fallen soldiers that were infested with smallpox distributed to indigenous people. He said, "You will do well to try to inoculate the Indians, by means of blankets, as well as to try every other method that can serve to extirpate this execrable race."
How is it that I have never known this? It breaks my heart. In my imagination I picture a momma with a small child. She is wrapping the child in the blanket given to her by a soldier with a false smile. Or maybe the smile isn't false. Or maybe it's genuine, because maybe the soldier doesn't know the blankets are infected, and he is just following orders. Then the child falls sick and dies. The momma dies. I picture whole families falling ill. Who knows. There are so many scenarios that could have played out.
At any rate... after developing a deep love of the local culture in Hawaii, I am finding that I am developing a deep love of Native American culture as well.
We often have interesting discussions in class. The instructor asked what we thought of recent efforts to revitalize the Ojibwe language in the area and in the schools.
The class was quiet, and my heart did that thumping thing it does when I have something important to say. So I spoke up.
I explained that I see a real disconnect in the efforts. Especially where teaching the language in the schools in concerned.
Then the loud mouthed lady in class spoke up about how great it is that the schools are doing pow-wows and teaching Ojibwe words.
Then I spoke again. I explained that yes, it is great. But there is still a disconnect. It is one thing to have an assembly once a year that is a pow-wow. It is great to set aside a half an hour once a week to teach language and culture. But the disconnect comes with just that. It's a time set aside. If a language and a culture are to be truly revitalized it needs to be integrated daily and in all subjects. I spoke about living in Hawaii where "Aloha" is not lip-service reserved for tourists and special occasions, but it is a greeting that is commonly stated. Children learn about the Hawaiian language and culture not just in a class once a week, but daily aspects are integrated into routine. Perhaps kindergartners are counting leis. Older school children read about Hawaiian lore. My children benefited from this integrated approach, and it enriched their lives greatly. I believe the same can be done as the Ojibwe culture and language are revitalized. Doing this will enrich everyone's lives and break down racial barriers.
I was talking with a friend from high school about this very subject. She is Native. Our boys wrestle together, and we have reconnected during practice. She was thrilled with my observations about the great disconnect. "You get it!" She told me. It was good to feel validated.
Some would say that it's not worth it to revitalize a language that is a part of such a small minority of people. I would argue that that is just why we need to revitalize it. You can go to Germany and speak German and get a dose of German culture. The same goes for Japan, Spain, India or any other country. But where do you go to hear Ojibwe? Where do you go to find immersion in the Ojibwe culture? This land is the land that was at one time theirs. It stands to reason that this is the place to bring about a revitalization of the language and culture. It can only enrich us all.
And that is a sliver what I am learning in my Indian Studies class.

The Good News Is:

2011-01-27T21:10:00.000-08:00

My parathyroid works! Yay! My levels tested fine.
The nurse left me with a warning. If I feel tingling in my hands or lips, I must go to the ER right away. I don't know why. I've felt the tingling, but not since she told me. What could go wrong? Could I drive my self? All these questions I thought of asking AFTER I got off the phone with her. Of course.
Meanwhile I take my vitamins.
Today was not a bad day. I forced my self to eat. Cheese. Chocolate milk. Crackers 'cause my tummy was hurting. Macaroni and cheese from the cafeteria at the university I attend. (It was not as good as it looked. The noodles were soggy.) Over all I felt a smidgin better than yesterday. I'll take that. And tomorrow I will feel a smidgin better than I do today. (I will I will I will I will... if I say it and believe it, it will happen, right?) And I licked the bowl after making two large pans of brownies. I will not eat the brownies. They are for a funeral tomorrow.
Normally I love brownies. I love to make them, smell them EAT THEM! But tonight I was not so thrilled. A girl I know, not so well, but well enough to say "hi" when I see her around town had a baby last week. The baby had some complications, and she passed away. These are brownies I wish I did not have to make. My heart aches for this momma. I cannot even pretend to know the sorrow she feels. I will say that I hugged my babies a few extra times this week.

Since it is Thursday, I will leave with a funny thing a kid once said. A long time ago, my sister, the Honey Bee, was just a cute little kindergartner. Very cute, and very verbose. We had lived in a rental house that was not set on it's foundation right, and it was cracking everywhere. In the cement basement, in the wall, the ceiling... We moved. Honey Bee started kindergarten and proudly announced to her teacher that "we used to live in a crack house."
Yep.

2011-01-26T19:04:00.000-08:00

This afternoon I took Isabella to the dermatologist to have her plantar wart checked. GOOD NEWS! IT'S GONE! I know... it's just a silly little wart. But for a kid who has had more than her share of pokes, prods and wart freeze-offs the last month... this is great news! She still has the two teeny tiny little warts on her face that I will continue to treat at home with a px cream three times a week.
So, Isabella's appointment was at 2:30. As soon as we were done, I went to the lab to get some blood drawn. It must have been about 3:00.
Before 5:00 I got a phone call from my endocrinologist's nurse. They were very concerned.
Apparently my calcium and vitamin D levels were both very very very low. The calcium was the most concerning. I was told that it was vital that I take my calcium tonight. Well yeah. I explained about my feeling sick, tired, exhausted, befuddled... she asked if I had any tingling in my hands or lips. Well yeah. Is that bad? Just take your calcium tonight.
It could be because I'm just not eating lots. It so hurts to eat. Like my ulcers are back.
Meanwhile there's four kids who need me - so I function. There's 18 credits of school - so I go and I study.
And here I sit, ready with open arms to welcome my whole, healthy self who has energy and life and gets things done.
I've been sitting like that for a long time.
Meanwhile we are back in my dad's car. I am grateful for it. VERY GRATEFUL. It's just so awful to be in that car with Phineas. I am late everywhere because I have to pull over once or twice a trip to get him to keep his hands to himself because he is going to cause a serious accident. I miss my van.
AND... I am feeling really very certain that there is something with Phineas' from possible exposure to who knows what in utero. He really has very little concept of his actions and their consequences.
For example... this winter he has gone through:
boots- we are on the second pair. The first he wore out the liners. Ok, not so big a deal.
snowpants- two pairs. He currently has NONE. His first pair was left at his dad's and he still does not have it. His second pair he wore to school Monday, and got picked up from child care with out. This means no snowpants. Thank-goodness for above zero temps this week.
coats- He is on his fourth coat. Usually he destroys the zippers. By chewing on them. The first coat was a hand-me-down. The second coat was one I bought on clearance last spring. The third coat I ran to Target to but when he destroyed the zipper on the second coat; thank-goodness I had just sold my books, so I had a little $. The fourth coat Ferb's IEP case manager pulled out of the lost and found for him. It had been there so long, it was never going to get claimed. I was very glad, because a new coat would have been like a reward. The other kids would have been jealous too.
hats- I lost count. There's been at least four that he has lost.
mittens/gloves - I lost count. I had my mom sew gloves to elastic to his coat, but then he destroyed the second coat. I pinned them to the third coat, and now the fourth coat. Problem is, the pins pop off all the time. He's lost one. There's been at least three pairs lost. Probably more.
He's got his shelf, hooks, little bin for storing hats and gloves in... and it's all right there when he walks in the door. Yet his items NEVER make it there unless there is someone standing right there to make him do it.
It's January, People. In Minnesota. We've been doing this since HALLOWEEN. That's more than enough time to GET IT. Even if you are five and a half.
I asked at his school if this is typical of a five year old.
Nope. It's not.
I miss Hawaii. All he had to keep track of were rubber slippers. And those got deposited by the door every single time.

exhaustion

2011-01-20T19:15:00.000-08:00

Last week I had my follow up with my endocrinologist. More labs were drawn, and I got a letter in the mail at the end of the week detailing my results.
My half a thyroid is not working.
My calcium is also way too low.
This actually answers some questions. Since my surgery I have been feeling DRAINED. I have no energy at all. That's really not new for me, but there is a difference, and it's worse. I thought it was perhaps recovery was taking a toll on me, and that I was doing too much. Turns out that it's my thyroid.
I was so excited to get a px for meds! Like a little kid eagerly awaiting a birthday party I awaited the return of my energy!
I faithfully took the pill every morning as directed. I picked the px up on Friday, so that made Saturday the first day on the new meds.
I was told it would take a few days before I felt a difference.
Well, I'm feeling a difference, and it's not good.
I did not think it was possible for my body to feel more tired, but it does.
I am so exhausted. I have quite a walk to get to my car from classes. Today I had to stop three quarters of the way and rest. It was almost an hour before I felt like I had the energy to simply walk to my car.
I have more labs coming up. It will be interesting to see what they tell me...

Proof

2011-01-14T18:20:00.000-08:00

Today as I sat in the office of yet another expert to get yet another evaluation result to get yet another nod to the autism diagnosis I had an epiphany.
In my arms I was holding the proof.
Proof that I am not lazy. Proof that the crumbs on my table, clutter in the kitchen, and general disarray that seems to be inescapable is not because I am lazy. It is not because I am on the computer. It is not because I sit and watch TV all day. (I wish.) It is not because I talk on the phone with friends all the time. (I wish for that too.)
I have proof.

You see in this picture one file. It is the file I have compiled of Ferb's evaluations, results, IEP's, IEP progress reports, report cards, and a half dozen samples of his work from November 2004 to September 2008. (Yes, there are crumbs on the table. This is real life, people. Crumbs that I celebrate because my children and I enjoyed a meal together at that table. Crumbs I celebrate because Phineas wiped the table off, and he's only five, and he needed PRAISE for doing it as soon as he was told, not correction for missing a few crumbs.) The file represents countless hours, appointments, paperwork filled out and much much more.
This is one child's file.
Candace, my "typical" child has a file that is about the size of one of the envelopes you see in Ferb's file.
Isabella has one about the same size.
Phineas... well..... his is much bigger.
I know that we moms can be hard on ourselves. We can beat ourselves up emotionally over human mistakes, letting the dishes pile up, and the piles of laundry. We walk in our homes and see the clutter, the coats and boots piled up in the entry way and we let ourselves SINK. DEEPLY SINK. We view the messy yard strewn with toys that should probably be tossed and we feel the failure. There was time in my life when I did not sink. I saw the sand in the van, and instead of lamenting the need to vacuum, I celebrated the moments I had with my children on the beach. I TRIED to be positive, and it worked.
For a while.
But, yes, there is a but... I made the mistake of letting ONE person get to me. One person for whom all my efforts and the joy I took in mothering my strongly spirited children DID NOT MATTER. I let one person's disappointment in the messy house and sand and crumbs and clutter CLOUD MY ATTITUDE.
Not any more.
For children with such thick files documenting their issues, trauma and progress do not sit idle, and neither do their parents.
Ferb is doing WONDERFULLY WELL! And do you think it could be because I am lazy? Nope. Isabella is loving math! Could it be because I yell at her to do her math? Nope. I have patiently sat with her this school year and gone over and over and over the math so she could retain it. Just like I did when she was so far behind with reading back in 2007. Phineas rages far less, and does what he is told the first time a lot more often than he used to. And why? Because I am a mom who is deeply invested in my kids.
As I sat waiting for that appointment I felt validated by the proof of that one, thick file.
So to all you trauma mommas out there, to all you autism mommas and learning disability mommas and sensory processing disorder mommas and special needs mommas I say go look at your files. (I know you got 'em.) Look at your kids.
Let go of any disappointment you might have of your "short comings." Let it go and then go hug your babies. Celebrate any little baby steps they take. They are thriving and growing and making progress, even if it's small, because OF YOU.
When they grow up I PROMISE they will not remember if the house was spotlessly clean or cluttered. They will remember the time you spent with them, and they will smile.

Last Night

2011-01-06T20:23:00.000-08:00

As I was driving home from Isabella's appointment in Far Off Town I was composing a blog post in my head about my beautiful daughter, "Isabella." (I wish I could share her real name with you all. It is a very special name.) She had been through so much that day as she was poked and proded and x-rayed in an attempt to find out what causes her to swell. (We are no closer. Tonight her finger swelled.) When very suddenly my in-head-post-draft was interrupted by a patch of ice on an unmarked curve in the road.
So that post will have to be composed another night.
The roads were pretty typical of roads up here in the Northwoods. I was taking it quite a bit slower than I usually do on a road that goes through a whole lotta nowhere that cuts our drive time down considerably. The above Katy Perry song played on the radio. While I think the video is kind of weird, I do like the song. I told her to listen to the words, cause the song reminded me of her.

We drove on.

The road has many straight stretches. The straight stretches were not icy at all. The curves were. When ever a curve came up, I slowed WAY WAY WAY down.

Then I came upon an unmarked curve. It was so dark I did not see it.
I slowed down, but it was so so icy.
The van spun and went into the ditch.
It rolled once, twice, and came to rest on the driver's side.

We were ok. Isabella was FREAKED OUT. I told her to be calm, that she was braver than she knew.
My cell phone was dead.
I turned the car off, hit the hazards, looked for my gloves, but could not find them. I did grab my coat and my scarf. I opened the passenger side door and had Isabella climb out. I tossed her my coat and scarf and keys. I could not see my purse. She was worried about her back pack and school books. I told her that her teacher would understand. Then I reminded her to be very brave and to go open the rear of the van. She did it. I climbed out, and we began to walk.
We did not hurt at all. I remember thinking how strange it was that I did not even feel cold. We said a little prayer. Isabella worried that the people in the house we were walking to would not be nice. We got a little less than a quarter of a mile when head lights came from behind us and stopped at our van. We then RAN. I did not want anyone trudging through the snow to get us out when we were already out.
I looked at the van and could not believe we walked away from it. It looked horrible.
The people who stopped were a nice family. They had just bought a car and were driving home in their van and the newly purchased car. They had us sit in the van and called 911. About fifteen minutes later Isabella and I began to HURT. BADLY.
I sat for a while, hoping the pain would just pass. It didn't. It got worse.
It took forever for the police to show up. When they finally did, the officer (who looked like he was about 15 years old) convinced me to go to the hospital.
I could not believe the number of emergency workers who showed up on the scene. What had once been isolation was suddenly a buzz with activity.
Isabella and I were fitted with collars and strapped to boards. The ambulance ride was very long. The paramedic was so funny. Isabella clung to my hand the entire time.
My blood pressure dropped to 70-something over 50. She told me she would have to start an IV. I convinced her to take my blood pressure again on my other arm, and it was high enough that she did not feel she needed to start an IV. I already had to go to the bathroom very badly, and did not want to be pumped full of fluids!
We finally arrived at the hospital. Isabella was taken in first. She did not want to let go of my hand. I reminded her that she was very brave, and told her she was a firework and would be fine. It took a while, and then I was taken in too.
Isabella was cleared first. Only her shoulders were hurting. Her nurse gave her a beautiful blanket. She said that a group of ladies makes them and donates them to the hospital to give to children who come to the ER. Isabella clung to that blanket. What a wonderful service.
They let me go to the bathroom and then took x-rays. Everything was fine. The doctor suggested we make chairs out of snow and sit in them to ice up our soreness. He told us that we'd feel very sore the next day. (He was right. Ouch. I can barely move.) My mom came and picked us up and drove us home. It took a very long time. I drifted in and out of sleep. I have no idea how long it took. A couple hours I think.
My neighbor was here at our house with my other three kids. She and I chatted a few minutes. It was then that I ran my hand through my hair. There were little pieces of broken glass all in it! I was so tired, but I had to shower. So I did. It was 3:00 am before I got to bed. Then I was up at 6:30 to get kids to school. Isabella insisted on going too. She had a field trip to the university in town for an art extravaganza. I drove her to the university and stayed with her long enough for her to feel comfortable with her class schedule.
I filled her px, and went home to sleep. It was a restless sleep punctuated with phone calls and pain, and one visitor who started our fire for us. Lifting wood to put on the fire is not something I can do right now. My face is beginning to look bruised, and I feel like there is a scratch on my eye.
So I am out a van. Again. I need to get one ASAP. I will have student loans on the 21st. I was hoping to pay down my hospital debt so I can get rid of that $100 a month direct deposit, but nope. I will be getting a cheap van. I hope it's as good as the one I just wrecked. I really liked that van. After the ride in my dad's car with my two boys home from wrestling I was reminded that I NEED a van. With all of Phineas' issues he simply cannot handle car rides, and needs to be seated far from siblings he can pester.
So that is what happened to me last night. I was gearing up for a dull month, an uneventful life. I was welcoming simple, drama free vibes in to my life.
But nope. Now this. This one more thing.

I Said I Was Gonna Blog About It

2011-01-03T13:41:00.000-08:00

And I almost forgot.
Pictures are in my phone. Perhaps they will end up on the computer, and then perhaps they will end up posted here. Or not. Can't promise either way right now!
So. My question to myself as we approached Christmas was "What am I gonna give my kids for Christmas?"
What I REALLY wanted to give them was some time. Time with me and each other away from cranky adults telling them what to do and expecting them to do it. Haha. (That would be me.)
And then the answer came. Like an angel chorus. The Beekeeper was inquiring about the casino, hotel and event center just 10 miles north of us. (It's kind of in the middle of nowhere.) I looked it up and heard the angels sing.
$29.99 a night Monday through Thursday.
THEY HAVE A POOL.
So I booked us a night.
Thursday afternoon we packed up the van and headed 10 miles north.
It was FUN. We swam and played and enjoyed each others company. The blizzard raged outside dumping snow on the Norhtwoods while we soaked in the hot tub! We ate and slept and got up to eat a birthday breakfast for Ferb with my dad and my sister. Then the kids swam some more.
Then we went home.
My kids were so well behaved. There were no expectations. There was no one ushering anyone off to do any other activities. We had a good time.

Other observations... (cause I like to people watch a bit)...
The hotel is on a reservation. The employees are all Native American. I have four children. Three are biologically mine, and one is adopted mine. The adopted one is of a mixed racial heritage, and looks Native American at first glance. Most people looked at us out of curiosity, and were not rude. No one said anything to me, but I could tell that some people wanted to. I refrained from offering any explanations. 'Cause he's my kid, and that needs no explaining.
I LOVE LOVE LOVE that my kids are so accepting of all people. In the pool area I noticed that the Native American kids tended to play together, and the white kids played together. But my kids... where do they fit in that situation? Let's say the pool is a pot, and the people in it are the ingredients. My kids are the spoon that stirs it all together. They were kind and friendly to all. One little girl was all alone with no other kids to play with. My kids went out of their way to include her in their game of sharks and minnows. I am well pleased with my kids. I hope that as they grow they can continue to love and accept and learn about other cultures.
On the way home they all agreed that this must become an after Christmas December Tradition.

This Conversation Actually Took Place Just Now

2011-01-02T17:12:00.000-08:00

And because I am sitting at my computer, it will be preserved in blog form.
Phineas just now came up to me. Not even five minutes ago he was told to put his pajamas on.
"Mom. When I play the Wii it helps me make good choices."
"How nice. Go put your pajamas on."
"And then I can play the Wii?"
"No, and then I can tuck you into bed."
Commence tantrum. (From the five year old.)
It's gonna be a long week.

New Years Day

2011-01-01T10:56:00.000-08:00

My blogging has been poorly.
I could make excuses. Busy, surgery, kids, holidays...
but I won't.
I miss blogging. Yet, I feel an increasing need to be careful about what I blog about. I miss the support I get from the adoption/parenting/blog community. I miss sharing what I've learned along the way.
Good news of the week - Isabella does not have hereditary angioedema! Yay! Next week we go to an allergy doctor and try to solve this latest mystery. The good news, so far the swelling has not affected her airway. That better continue to be the case.

The Best Christmas Ever

2010-12-28T18:26:00.000-08:00

It was really a wonderful Christmas!
I was impressed with the generosity of the people in my life. I was gearing up for a simple, small Christmas. But then... then... people stepped in and really made this one of the best Christmases ever! I cannot blog about it all, but let's say it was magical and wonderful and amazing and spectacular and my kids got so many wonderful gifts and they were happy and magical and wonderful and WOW.
I just can't even put it all into words.
On Christmas Eve Santa and Mrs. Claus dropped in for a visit. (My Aunt and Uncle.) They posed for pictures and read the kids a beautiful story about Santa and Jesus. My kids were enthralled.

And Phineas? I love the age he is at. It's all so magical!

The day ended with my kids going to their Dad's, and then the funny feeling I had been feeling all day turned into a raging fever.
So I rested all the next day. By evening the fever broke and I felt better. Then my kids came home. That was good timing!
I'm still reeling from the news that there is no cancer! It's just wonderful. I was feeling like life can just MOVE FORWARD!
Then Isabella's lip swelled. Not a huge deal. It's happened before. It always goes down. But last night was awful. Her lip swelled. Then her eyes. Then her neck. It moved down her arms to the palms of her hands. No itching. No pain. But she was freaking out. Her airways seemed just fine. The benedryl did nothing, and she kept swelling more. So I took her to the ER last night. I SPED. It was not emergent enough for an ambulance, but I was afraid of her airways swelling. They got us right in at the ER. The gave her more antihistamines. The swelling did not go away. They took blood. She was a champ. Finally, the swelling subsided. Her dx is angioedema. We do not know the cause. It's unlikely an allergen, since the antihistamines did not help. She is being tested for kidney disease (unlikely) and hereditary angioedema. It's scary. I know someone with hereditary angioedema. It is not a condition I want my ten year old to have to deal with. They are still sending us to see the allergy Dr. Just to be sure there is not some allergen we are missing. However, when I read this:
"Swelling of the intestines -- can be severe and lead to abdominal cramping, vomiting, dehydration, diarrhea, pain, and occasionally shock"
It scared me. That describes my mysterious GI problems that have been plaguing me for years. I do not want my kid to suffer that monstrosity of a disease. Really, there were times when I was in so much pain, pain I cannot begin to describe.
Just when I thought we were headed for some smooth sailing health wise... this happens.
We have one more Christmas gift on Thursday. I will blog about that one later.
Friday Ferb turns 9! 9! That boy is growing up so fast! And then the new year. There is a lot of good, and a lot of fun stuff coming up.
I'm gonna focus on the fun stuff. Cause angioedema does not deserve my focus!

Update

2010-12-16T07:17:00.000-08:00

I look like Sally.

Sort of. My neck does anyway!

I did not count the staples. I had my five year old count them.

He counted 13 staples.

In my neck.

It's pretty freaky. I try not to think about them.

Thank goodness my sister is here to help me clean them and put the ointment on.

The good news: NO CANCER!

Yay!

Now I'm gonna go take more tylenol 3. It's really not strong enough. I could use something stronger. Last night to take my mind of the fact that I have a neck full of staples I did way too much. Dishes. Laundry. Little tidying. Cooking. I just really was trying to not think about the staples.

Today I shall rest. Even though my mind keeps going back to the staples. They are freaking me out. They come out Wednesday.

Thanks for all the love and prayers and thoughts and support. I appreciate it all. It meant a lot to me.

The (not so) Hidden Metaphor

2010-12-11T07:57:00.000-08:00

A couple of days ago I posted about scars.
I thought I'd let you all draw your own metaphors from it. Cause stating the obvious is not something I can do eloquently.
But then... I drew a new metaphor from it. A deeper meaning.
And I thought I'd blog about it.
When I was a kid I remember asking a Sunday School teacher about the scars on Christ's hands, feet and sides. To my understanding, when we are resurrected our bodies are to be made perfect and whole. So how come Jesus had His scars?
I was told it was so that people who know who He was. So He could show people the scars, and they would know it was Him.
I was satisfied with that answer. But then, shortly after writing the Scars post, I got to thinking.
Who am I to define perfect and whole by having no scars? I know that a resurrected body will be perfect; that it will not be full of illness and infirmaries. It's a very worldly standard, to believe that perfect and whole means looking like what this world defines as beautiful.
And there are so many definitions of beautiful!
I think about a heart surgeon who has just performed life saving surgery on a small child. I am sure he looks at his incisions as a kind of masterpiece. Because that child has those scars, that child will live.
Think about it.
Because Christ has His scars, we will live.
And I will let you draw more of your own metaphors. There are many more I could state, but I will let you draw your own meanings from my attempts here.

The Things They Say Thursday

2010-12-09T20:00:00.000-08:00

Kids take things quite literally most of the time. This makes it tricky when trying to describe things like, oh a pregnancy.
When my sister, the Honey Bee found out she was expecting the Busy Bee she came by my house. My kids, of course, were trying to jump all over her. She was not feeling that great, and the kids wanted to know if she was sick.
Well, not sick. Just pregnant. So we told them, in what would seem like a simple, age appropriate way.
"Auntie has a baby in her tummy."
Phineas was just three years old at the time. His jaw dropped open and he exclaimed, "AUNTIE ATE A BABY?!?!"
Ferb was standing there, in his 6 year old wisdom. He replied before anyone else could.
"NO. The babies fall down from heaven and into the mommies tummies."
Well duh.
My friend's little guy attends a private Christian school for kindergarten. His teacher put up a tree in the classroom and put a wrapped present under the tree. She then explained that Baby Jesus is the true gift of Christmas.
Well, this sweet little guy came home and told his family that his teacher has Baby Jesus wrapped up and under the Christmas tree in his classroom.

scars

2010-12-08T19:47:00.000-08:00

I remember being a kid and joining in the comparing of scars. Everyone had a story for their scars. Some were rather unforgetable.
"I got this one when we were camping and my sister dropped a hatchet on my foot!"
"I wiped out on my bike and did this to my knee!"
"Feel this lump on my scalp? Yep. That's where I rammed my head into a door when I was four and got staples!"
Everyone was proud of their scars and the stories of survival that accompanied them. I see my own kids comparing scars with their friends. It's the same excitement I remember.
Why, do you think, people like to compare their scars and tell the stories about them?
I think it's because our scars remind us that WE LIVED. We felt pain. We have bodies that get hurt then heal. It's kind of like finding the sand from the beach in the back of my car. I can either grumble about the car needing vacuumed, or I can rejoice and say, "I went to the beach with my kids and we had a wonderful time!"
When I see the scar on my right foot from when I was twelve and a first year in girls camp on that life-changing canoe trip I remember not only tripping over a tent stake in the middle of the night and ripping my foot open, but I remember the fun I had. I remember the friends. I remember the melted marshmallows in my hair as I got "initiated" in the middle of the night! The scar on my left calf tells a similar story from my second year at girls camp! I gave my self a deep cut climbing out of the lake and catching my leg on a nail on the dock. But more important than that was the fact that that was the year I met Molly. To this day I count her as one of my most dear friends.
I have some other scars that have faded. In 2003 I had my gall-bladder removed. I cannot even find those teeny tiny scars anymore!
I have a very long scar running up and down my abdomen from two separate surgeries. My belly button is a lost cause! No one sees that scar unless my tankini happens to slip up a bit, or if I show it off. Almost no one knows it is there and that because my abdomen was cut into by skilled surgeons I am alive. Sometimes I feel the internal sutures. I have to wear low rise jeans to keep the scar tissue and internal sutures from bothering me. The thing about that scar that I love is the reminder that I am alive. I have a body. It's not perfect, but it's mine and I'm alive. I have the scars to prove it.
In less than a week I will have another scar. This one will be along my collarbone and be more visible. After a while it will fade. It will be my reminder of this time in my life, when things felt so uncertain; when I just have to let go of so many things because the control is not in my hands.
It's been a long journey from last spring when the doctor first noticed my enlarged thyroid to now when it is finally coming out. At this point I just want it out. I want it over. I want to have the solid evidence that it is not cancer and that everything will be fine.
And then I will have the scar to prove it.

The Things Teachers Say (And Do!) A Day Late. Sorry.

2010-12-03T20:06:00.000-08:00

Sunday afternoon a couple weeks ago on the way home from church my eleven year old Candace sighed, "I hope the Vikings win today."
Really? When did she become a Vikings fan?
She went on to explain that when the vikings lose her Social Studies teacher has a pop-quiz.
"And the last question on the quiz is something about the Vikings. Like, 'Do you think the Vikings will make it through the end of the season?' or, "Should the Vikings sack Brett Favre?"
She actually watched the game with her Grandad. He patiently explained what a first down was and other intricacies of the game. (I still don't even know what a first down is. Or anything else about football really.) Phineas was really into the game. I think he's a natural. He gets the game with no one sitting down and explaining it to him!
Then the Vikings lost. Grandad told Candace she better go study.

4-H

2010-11-27T19:35:00.000-08:00

I got my kids all registered for the new year in 4-H.
(WE LOVE 4-H!)
I am very excited to report that all of them want to show pigs.
(They are truly my children!)
That means we will be getting at least six pigs.
I don't know what we will do with six pigs. We will have to amp up the selling effort when they get processed. We will put one in our freezer. (Fresh pork CANNOT BE BEAT. Store bought pork ---> GROSS.)
I am going to have to save my money to pay for the pigs. And then the pig feed too.
Thank goodness Phineas is a cloverbud. He does not need his own pig to show.
I think the plan for this year will be to get the kids even more involved in the garden so they can help pay for this endeavor by selling fresh veggies.

Wanna buy some carrots?

It's all worth it though. Every penny. Every minute of time. 4-H builds character in a kid like nothing else can.

Candace with the Swine Showmanship Award

Isabella poses with one of the pigs one last time before they are loaded up for processing.

Ferb With the Photo He Entered in Open Class

The Low Tonight Was Three Degrees

2010-11-26T21:59:00.000-08:00

And what were we doing?
Watching a parade. It was COLD. But wonderful! I did not take a single picture because that would require removing my choppers. Not gonna happen in that cold temp.
The parade ends with Santa riding atop a decked out with Christmas lights fire truck. The ladder truck, I think. Phineas' face was filled with the kind of magic that I try to soak up as often as I can. I wonder how much longer this magic will last? My babies are growing up.
"MOM." He said with much seriousness in his voice.
"That's the real Santa."
"Really. How do you know?"
"I just KNOW. Look at him, Mommy. He's the REAL SANTA."
I couldn't look at Santa. All I could look at was my baby with his light filled eyes.
Magic.

The Things They Say Thursday

2010-11-25T16:23:00.000-08:00

Goodness I am thankful for my kids and all they say to keep me on my toes!

This morning at 7:00 am my sweet little Phineas burst into my bedroom with a "Happy Thanksgiving!" (I was thrilled he got the holiday right. The past week he's been asking if Valentine's day is here yet, and if I am going to cook a turkey for Valentine's day...)
"Happy Thanksgiving to you too, son."
"Now. Get cookin' Mom!"

My sister returned not long ago from a Spanish speaking mission in Florida. One of the fun things she brought back with her is abuelita hot chocolate. (Really, is it so very yummy. I think I'm gonna go make some now...)
Well, one night we prepared some for the kids. Isabella cradled her steaming cup and proclaimed, "Abuelitas! It's delicious and FUN TO SAY!"

One Sunday in Primary our genius chorister had the kids come up in groups and draw a picture of something on the white board that they have fun doing. Phineas drew a car. Then she went over each picture and the Primary children all sang the song "Fun To Do." For example, when she came to Phineas' picture, everyone sang, "Playing with cars is fun to do..."
Phineas' "car" is the box shaped thing with wheels.
Well, one cutie patootie little five year old boy, E, drew the creature with four leg type things, an X on it and scribbles above it's head. Do you see it?

Can you guess what it is?
Yes. It is a dead dear.
We all sang "Shooting a dear is fun to do..."
Only in the Northwoods! I love these kids!

Our dinner was delicious. I hope yours was too, Now it's time for PIE. YUM.

link

2010-11-23T06:48:00.000-08:00

She said it so well. I have to share.

A Perfect Day for Soup!

2010-11-22T17:13:00.000-08:00

The snow fell in the Nothwoods today.
And fell and fell and fell and fell and fell...
The kids were thrilled! They made snow angels and went sledding. Then they came in and drank some tummy warming abuelitas.
Good things about days like this... soup. Pumpkin soup to be exact. Made from pumpkins grown in our garden and sausage from Isabella's pigs.
It's so yummy. I modified the recipe myself. I'm gonna post it here for two reasons.
1: To share it all with you!
2: Because if I don't store it in some electronic form I will lose it. (I have an intense desire to be organized, but just can't seem to get to that point...)

Pumpkin and Sausage Soup

~1/2 lb sausage -any kind of sausage will do. We use ground sausage. If you use a fancy sausage that is encased, dice it up. Do not use more than a 1/2 lb of sausage. More is not better. The flavor will over power the soup if you do.

~2 T butter

~1 medium chopped onion

~1 t dried thyme (I have substituted Italian seasoning here. The thyme is better.)

~3 C pumpkin puree

~4 C chicken stock (I use 4 t chicken better than bullion and mix it with 4 C water.)

~1/2 C brown sugar

~1/2 generous C of heavy cream (I've substituted condensed milk - the cream is better.)

Cook sausage in large skillet.

Add onion and cook a couple minutes.

Add thyme and pumpkin and brown sugar.

In a blender puree soup in batched (I usually get two batches). Return to pan and stir in cream and butter.

Best served immediately on a chilly day in early winter.

A Theraputic Post... Read at Your Own Risk!

2010-11-21T19:22:00.000-08:00

Tonight I will boldly blog, and lay it all out there as far as the thoughts in my head go. These thoughts have been swirling around for quite sometime. They need to go somewhere. They are going here tonight. Reader beware - the risk is yours to take...
For so many years I lived in a military neighborhood.
It had it's good points, and it's bad. The bad were really not so bad though. Now that I live in the country (don't get me wrong, I love country living...) I am finding there is a kind of opportunity cost no matter where you chose to live.
Or get put to live. Sometimes there is no choice involved... be it military or civilian life. There are times when military housing tells you, "it's this or a six month wait," and you take the cinder block house next to a major highway and the airport because you don't want to find an apartment and then move again when a house is available. Sometimes as a civilian you live where you do because you simply have no other viable choices.
I got lucky the last two military neighborhoods we lived in. I had the best neighbors. Some of those neighbors became our hanai family. It was amazing to be a part of that when living so far from the family I was raised in. A military family learns to make friends fast. And then those friends become your life line, and you theirs.
Lately I have been finding myself thinking back to those vital life-lines. I think it is because of my health issues popping up again.
When I was sick before, I knew I could count on my neighbors. On a night when I was vomiting so much that I was blacking out I knew I could call an ambulance, and that my neighbors would be there to watch my kids. They would take shifts, and then two teenagers would spend the night at my house so my three small children could have the comfort of their own beds.
It was December of 2004. The hubby was deployed. Candace was five, Isabella was four, and Ferb was almost three. I woke up one Sunday with that familiar pang in my stomach. I did not eat, hoping bowel rest would resolve the obstruction. Very often bowel rest is all it takes, and I am back on my game in no time. Every now and then, however, with no rhyme or reason, an obstruction takes a very ugly turn. I got us all ready for church. Keeping myself positive that this would resolve. I'd put my kids in their classes and rest through church meetings. Then we would go home, and I'd feel better.
It was, after all, the weekend before Christmas.
All my good vibes did not work.
I soon found myself in the throws of pain so intense I wanted that NG tube. I wanted morphine. You know the pain is bad when you find yourself WANTING an NG tube and morphine. A sweet friend found me curled up in the mother's lounge. She is a nurse. Usually when things start to fade to black it is because I am so dehydrated from vomiting bile for hours. This obstruction was much more severe. The pain was causing me to drift into seconds of blackness here and there.
It is an awful place to be.
Immediately I was rushed to the ER by a couple who are very dear friends. Arrangements were made for someone to take drive my vehicle and my kids home after church. I had no cause to worry about them. I knew the families who were helping, and I knew my neighbors too.
I was admitted. They put the NG tube in, and then measure the fluid output. When the output decreases the doctors then know that the obstruction is gone and my bowels were moving the bile through. Sometimes it takes a day, sometimes it takes a week. All during this time I am NPO. Nothing to eat or drink. This time it took a couple days.
While I was in the hospital a social worker came to visit me because my husband was deployed. She wanted to know about my kids. Who was taking care of them? Was I comfortable with this arrangement? Did I want someone from her department to go check on them?
I was so so so blessed to be able to tell her that I trusted my neighbors and friends. I knew my kids were in good hands. I knew they were sleeping in their own beds. There was no need to check on them.
These friends came from my neighborhood, my church, the submarine wive's group... They all came together and lifted me up in a very amazing way.
There were nights when an ambulance would come and cart me off. As soon as the sound of sirens entered the neighborhood, the circle was full of neighbors offering to help watch my kids. There was no complaining, only a desire to step in and help.
I was admitted to the hospital for one very terrible obstruction in April 2005. In the middle of the night a scan showed that I needed emergency surgery to correct a small bowel perforation. I tried to call my house, but my husband would not wake up. I called a neighbor who also happened to be a part of our church family. In an instant he was at my house, shouting for hubby to wake up. Neighbors woke up and joined him in shouting and throwing rocks at the window. No one complained. There was only intense concern. I was so grateful.
There were opportunities for me to reciprocate too. One neighbor dropped her grand daughter off in nothing but a diaper one day because her son was hurt at school and she needed to rush to him. Other friends had surgeries of their own. We once again rallied round them with meals and babysitting. When spouses deployed we were there to babysit and have girls' nights out. One time there was a hurricane that was headed our way, one mom was sick, and her kids were sick. Her husband was deployed. So I ran to the commissary to buy her essentials. (The hurricane missed. yay!) We watched each other's kids and cleaned each other's houses. Being far from family made these friendships lifelines.
And I miss that.
True, I have family here, I have friends too. But it's not the same. For most there is not an intense need for those connections. Yet I still find that I have that need for those connections. Connections that are not there because we were born into that family, but connections that are there because we desire them so deeply. It's a new thing for me to learn. I offer help, and someone does not take it. I offer again, and have to step back. It's not the same as military neighbors. They have other support systems in place that I am not a part of. I am learning to be ok with that. At the same time, as I face surgery, I put the needed supports in place for my kids. My dad is here. My sister is here. It will be a quieter hospitalization. It is not a bad thing, just different. I am learning to be ok with that.
There is a learning curve. I tend to step into friendships with a voracity of emotion. I found that most military wives do the same thing. Internally we are thinking, "here I am, in this new community. Who am I going to lean on? Who will lean on me? Who will we have Fourth of July BBQ's with?" And we find each other next door, at the park, at church or at the pool. We see a like-mindedness and we latch on to each other. It's for survival. When our husbands are deployed and the kids are sick and we need medicine or milk or something from the store, we get it for each other. These friendships form, mostly without effort. It is soothing and satisfying. If we fight, we usually solve it the very next day because we need each other for survival. It is different here, in the civilian world. I am still learning, and it is hard to break the voraciously emotional way I do things. I have found myself distancing myself from people this last month or so. Why? Because I see that no one else is as intense as me in my friendships, and this does not feel healthy. I don't want to be the life-force sucking friend that I feared I was becoming. And yet, I feel SO insincere. Like I am not really myself, and these friendships are just surface. I don't like it. And I am not sure if learning this new way of doing things is the way I should be going.
I do have a wonderful family. For that I am grateful. Parents, siblings, cousins, aunties and uncles are all here. I love them, and I know they love me.
But, (did you see the "but" coming?) it's not the same as choosing a friendship and falling into place not because biology put you in that situation, but because you WANT that friendship, and it feels natural and reciprocal and kindred.
And that is really hard to learn to let go of.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

2010-11-17T19:48:00.000-08:00

Not much to blog about today.
Just a link.

Veterans Day

2010-11-14T18:33:00.000-08:00

Last year I was asked to speak at a Veterans Day program. I was very honored. Because of that speaking engagement, I was asked to speak again this Veterans Day. The venue was the Senior Citizen Center.
I was honored.
It was a simple event. The room was filled with veterans from all eras. I met a WWII Wave, and a WWII Army Nurse. A mom of a soldier approached me after with tears in her eyes. She showed me an email her son sent her describing the remembrances of the fallen. It was moving.
I still felt so very unqualified to be addressing the small crowd gathered.
Here is what I said last year. I modified it a bit for my address this year.

Good Evening Ladies and Gentlemen. It is an honor to stand before you tonight as we honor our nations veterans.

Clarence E. Hill, the national commander of the American Legion, said “Veterans Day is for ordinary people accomplishing the extraordinary.”

We all know these ordinary people. Perhaps some of us are these ordinary people. As a veteran of the US Navy I get a little uncomfortable when someone thanks me for the four years I served. I didn’t feel like I was doing anything worthy of extra praise. My job was simple. I did it. And I did it well. Well enough to be awarded a Navy Achevement medal as an E-3. I get the feeling when I talk with other vets that they often feel the same way- that they were just doing their jobs. Yet, when I talk to a family member of a vet I hear the pride and the emotion and the magnitude of what these ordinary vets have done. I was talking with my son’s preschool teacher about veterans day. She was telling me about her brother, a Vietnam vet, and she was on the verge of tears. She is so proud of him. She told me that when he came home from Vietnam the lack of support and horrible way he was treated was almost as traumatic as the horrors he endured in Vietnam. She told me that the way our nation has supported and welcomed our troops serving in Iraq and Afgahnistan has actually helped him heal. But we have so far to go.

When I was in the Navy one of my collateral duties was serving in the Subase Pearl Harbor Colorgaurd. It was a job I loved. When we had the honor of attending to the military honors for the funeral of a fallen fellow servicemember or veteran, the presenting of the national ensign was my job. As the lowest ranking member in the color guard, this job should not have been mine. But I was the only one who could do it. No one else could bear to look into the eyes of the chief mourner and say the words, “on behalf of the president of the United States, a proud Navy and a grateful nation, I present this National Ensign to you in honor of your loved one’s faithful and dedicated service.” Yet I could do it. Time and time again. Week after week. Against the back drop of the beautiful cemetery on the Windward side of Oahu near Kaneohe Bay, or overlooking Honolulu at the Punchbowl Cemetery. I reverently said these words and looked deep into the eyes of sons, daughters, sisters, brothers and widows. I hope I did my job well. After being on the receiving end of that situation when my grandfather’s flag was presented to me. I saw than that it was extraordinary.

I was the first female to enter military service in my family. In my family history I have found veterans in nearly every war. I never felt extraordinary as I served in a time of relative peace.

In his First Inaugural Address, President Ronald Reagan said as he described the Arlington cemetery.

“Under one such marker lies a young man—Martin Treptow—who left his job in a small town barber shop in 1917 to go to France with the famed Rainbow Division. There, on the western front, he was killed trying to carry a message between battalions under heavy artillery fire.36 We are told that on his body was found a diary. On the flyleaf under the heading, "My Pledge," he had written these words: "America must win this war. Therefore, I will work, I will save, I will sacrifice, I will endure, I will fight cheerfully and do my utmost, as if the issue of the whole struggle depended on me alone."

So often I find that the words of Ronald Reagan, although they were spoken decades ago, are fitting for today. How I wish what he said next was fitting for today.

“The crisis we are facing today does not require of us the kind of sacrifice that Martin Treptow and so many thousands of others were called upon to make. It does require, however, our best effort, and our willingness to believe in ourselves and to believe in our capacity to perform great deeds; to believe that together, with God's help, we can and will resolve the problems which now confront us. And, after all, why shouldn't we believe that? We are Americans. God bless you, and thank you.”

I wish that we did not require that kind of sacrifice today. There is a new sacrifice we are called upon to make. Our veterans have made that sacrifice. Many veterans continue daily to make sacrifices. They quietly go about their daily duties with no expectation for any extraordinary praise. Many still fight battles daily. For some it is every time they look in the mirror. Others feel it with pain that comes from some injury. Still more feel it in the form of a mental illness like post traumatic stress disorder. For these veterans the sacrifice continues, and they face it like Ronald Reagan said with “our best effort, and our willingness to believe in ourselves and to believe in our capacity to perform great deeds; to believe that together, with God's help, we can and will resolve the problems which now confront us.”

I will close my remarks with Clarence E. Hill’s words. “We call on all Americans to thank veterans and let them know that their sacrifices are appreciated. Veterans Day is not about sales at the local retail mall. It's about honoring our heroes.

While veterans are often ordinary people who accomplish extraordinary things, it is often an extraordinary family that supports the ordinary veteran. And it is the veterans that have given us this extraordinary country.”

Thank-you for your support.

The Things They Say Thursday

2010-11-11T17:37:00.000-08:00

One year ago today my dear cousin died. I miss her.
It's Veteran's Day. More on that next post.
One year ago today my sister went into labor at 27 weeks. The next day she gave birth to a teeny tiny 2 lb 7 oz baby boy.
It's Thursday. And my kids have said some funny things. I'll share them today because I am not in a place for blogging about anything heavy.
Last weekend we went to visit my sister on the Prairie near Far-off Town. While crossing the Red River to get into Far-off Town I announced to my kids that we were leaving Minnesota and entering North Dakota.
Phineas exclaimed with awe, (gasp) "THAT'S WHERE PENGUINS LIVE!"
Candace still says "literately" instead of "literally." It's very cute. But, she is eleven. I should correct her.
According to Phineas it was shark season last weekend. He would bring it up at very strange times. I don't know if he was getting it confused with deer season, or if he really thought people were hunting sharks. And when he talked about "shark season" he was so so so very serious. It was hard not to laugh at him!

Validated, And It Feels So Good

2010-11-09T08:25:00.000-08:00

This weekend I felt validated. Twice. For two different reasons.
Yes, it feels good!
My sister JB and I loaded up my four kids and one horse to travel to see my sister, the Honey Bee who lives on the prairie near Far-off Town. Candace had a horse riding clinic to go to, and our church had stake conference there.
My first validation came during stake conference when on of the speakers was talking about keeping our children safe and how many kids get into serious trouble while at a sleep over. I've had a no-sleepover rule for quite some time for that reason among others. Isabella heard that talk, and she was thrilled to hear it! Yay! Our rule is a bit fluid. My kids do go to sleep overs when I need them to be babysat (like when I have an early Dr. appointment the next day) or with family. We have extended that circle to include people who are hanai family too. My girls have three friends who are "sleepover approved." When they were little we used to have monthly "late night parties." Another family in our ward had instituted the no sleepover rule, and each month we would alternate hosting the party. Girls would come over in their pajamas for a couple hours of slumber party fun. Then they'd go home. No drama. No sneaking out. No hurt feelings. It was wonderful. I am seriously considering hosting a late night party for my girls sometime in the near future!
Validation!
As we sat in stake conference I was slipping into pity-party mode. I was fortunate enough to have arrived early enough to get a soft pew. My boys are not capable of sitting on hard folding chairs for ANY amount of time. Phineas especially has all his sensory issues. He especially loves auditory input. Hard chairs on a hard floor makes for NOISE. And he makes it. I brought some new coloring pages, crayons, hotwheel cars and yes, my iPhone. Two hours is a lot to ask of my boys, and I wanted to set them up for success. Isabella had a book to read, I positioned myself between the boys so they would not fight. The grandparent couple in front of us asked if Phineas could sit with them. He did for about 30 minutes, and they did an excellent job of keeping him busy and quiet! Yet I still slipped into pity mode. It was such work to keep my boys regulated. I saw other families with their children who did not need joint compressions during the meeting to meet sensory needs. Other children, much younger, colored happily without the need for social input from those around them. Yet, altogether my boys were really good considering past precedent. I felt like I had succeeded in helping them succeed. But I was exhausted.
When the meeting ended, the older empty nest couple behind us smiled at me.
"You are a saint," the husband said.
"Really?" I was shocked.
"My wife is a special ed teacher, and you are doing a marvelous job with those boys."
VALIDATION! Wow! So often I worry too much about what other people see. They see boys who look old enough to sit and play, color and read quietly, yet appear to be out of control. They see me frazzled, trying to keep it all together. Yet, here was this couple, smiling at me. Letting me know that they saw my situation for it's real value. Sometimes it's hard. It would be easy to say that my boys can't handle church meetings, and skip them. But I don't. I go because they need to learn, even if it's difficult, that being able to sit through a meeting is a valuable skill.
I really feel like I gave my boys a victory that day. Not once did I have to remove them from the meeting for being too load or naughty. And then I got some validation. It felt good.

I Will Not Fall Through the Cracks

2010-11-08T21:31:00.000-08:00

I have been mulling this post over in my head for quite some time now. I was waiting for the story to come to some kind of conclusion before I wrote it down.
I think it's come to a conclusion. At least I HOPE it has.
I'll start with the VA.
Way back in the spring - don't remember if it was March or April... I think April... the Dr. found my thyroid was enlarged.
In June they did an ultra-sound. 2.8 centimeter nodule was found.
In September they did a biopsy. Suspicious cells were found.
The endocrinologist told me he'd like to see half my thyroid out within six weeks. I asked if it could wait until the end of the semester. He hemmed and hawed and said that I should talk to the surgeon first. He said he'd put the referral in.
Ummm - that was more than six weeks ago.
No surgeon ever called. I never even got that nifty letter in the mail letting you know that the VA has scheduled your appointment and you better rearrange your life and your kids' lives to accommodate it because if you want to re-book it, it will be three or four months out.
So I called them about three weeks ago. I was told that someone would be calling me.
No one called.
I walked into the VA clinic two weeks ago, and sat down with a nurse. It appears that nothing past the referral for the biopsy was even in my record.
Huh?
He gave me the phone number for the endocrinologist, and I called him. I even tried to call the surgeon, but they share a receptionist.
No one ever called me back.
At this point I was put on MA. (Finally poor enough.) So I got an appointment with my family Doctor, here in B-town, not Far-off Town. When I checked in I was told that I did not have MA. Hmm. I showed the receptionist my letter stating that I did have MA, and told her I would call my worker. I called my worker, she did not answer. I contacted another person in the county building, and she walked across the hall and told my worker. I was told I did have MA.
I did not.
My Dr. referred me to an ENT here in B-town. And an endocrinologist in Far-off Town. (Maybe I can get to the bottom of the "why is my cortisol level so low" mystery.)
Then, last week, Thursday, lucky me I ended up with a partial small bowel obstruction. I still have the bruise from the IV. I first went to the walk-in clinic. They would not touch me with a ten foot pole. They loaded me into a van - I was barely able to walk, and carted me across the street to the ER.
I was told I did not have MA.
I cried.
I was in so much pain.
I did not want more medical debt.
Who dropped the ball?
I made phone calls. Emotionally charged messages were left on answering machines. Really. Here, in this prosperous country a person has to sit writhing in pain in an ER and WORRY ABOUT HOW SHE WILL HANDLE THE MEDICAL DEBT? I was not freaked out about IV's and possible NG tubes. I was freaked out about how I was gonna pay for it.
My dad told me to call the county commissioner. So I did. I called him at home. He was WONDERFUL. I had faith that he would get to the bottom of this.
The very next day I was on the phone leaving messages for my worker's supervisor. I had an appointment with the ENT that day. I was on fire. I firmly told her on her voice mail, "I WILL NOT FALL THROUGH THE CRACKS. This is not a matter of a sore throat or an annual exam. I MIGHT HAVE CANCER. This issue will not wait for the beureaucracy to figure out. This issue will be figured out TODAY."
I went to my appointment. I scheduled my surgery.
I still did not know how I would pay for it.
The county commissioner called me back. Apparently the supervisor was in a meeting, and my worker was not in.
Later on I got another call. I was told that there were two computer systems, and they were not communicating. I have MA.
Hmmm. Just for me? Or are their other people out there relying on MA who are falling through the cracks too?
The county commissioner called me to tell me that I had MA, and that if I had any problems to call him. He wished me well.
I am glad I spoke up. Who knows how long this would have gone on.
And that, I hope, is the conclusion.

10-31-10

2010-10-31T13:02:00.000-07:00

The last day of NABLOWRIMO.
Wow. I made it through a month of daily blogging.
Some of my posts were not really high in quality.
Some were insightful (for me).
I hope some were insightful for you who read this blog.

On to the latest and greatest.

Tomorrow I will be off-line for the communication shutdown. Then I will be back on line for National Adoption Month.

It's Halloween, and I find myself torn. Phineas is hitting critical anxiety level. But, I have three other children who need the comfort of familiar traditions. Like trick or treating. We have plans to hit about half a dozen homes of family and friends. That's it. Last night was the crazy night with Trunk-or-Treat and the Chili cook off at church. Then we went on a haunted hay ride.
Today though, I can see the anxiety in Phineas. The way he talks. The way he demands attention. The way he's non-stop questioning EVERYTHING. It's wearing me down. If I leave him home with my sister he will feel left out. If I keep everyone home they will resent him. I can't win. So I'll just press forward and pray for an extra reserve of patience.
And some time to study for my math and algebra reasoning test tomorrow.
If anyone can help me with permutations and graphing... please. Help!

10-30-10

2010-10-30T09:21:00.000-07:00

https://communicationshutdown.org/

nablowrimo is alomsot over.

November 1st I will not blog. It will be a nice break. I have enjoyed daily blogging, but sometimes have felt a little short on words.

That's not the only reason I will refrain from blogging.

To raise autism awareness I am participating in the facebook communication shutdown. While officially blogging is not participating, I will not blog that day either.

As a matter of fact, I will not get online at all that day, except once, to check on-line assignments for school.

Check it out. I saw mine and Ferb's picture on the mosaic. It was pretty cool.

10-29-10

2010-10-29T18:42:00.000-07:00

Tonight I am trying to not feel like a bad mom for not going to Candace's last meet of the season tomorrow. I am just so tired. This has been one of the most busy weeks ever. Between school and sick kids and birthday parties and papers and tests and everything... I just know I will not be able to keep my eyes open as I drive the couple hours it takes to get to the town where the meet is. The good news is that Candace is feeling better. I heard her cough a couple times today. Sounded congested. But she has been feeling great, and she needs the last hurrah with her team. They will be stopping and having a pizza party on the way home. Should be fun. I am sure she'd rather I not fall asleep at the wheel, so I will just stay home.
I am tired now. Off to bed. 'Night

The Things They Say Thursday

2010-10-28T18:20:00.000-07:00

When in the car Phineas talks non-stop. If he's not talking he's having a melt down. It's a hard line to balance. I like to have my thoughts to myself while driving, and 20 mile stretches of him talking and demanding intelligent responses from me kind of makes me crazy.
So, what do I do? I have him talk to someone else. On my cell phone. Usually it's my mom. Today it was my sister. I am very grateful to those who let him talk to them so I can drive in relative sanity.
As we pulled into the driveway Phineas handed me the phone. "Here mom. She logged off."

The talking thing is not just for us. He talks to lots of people. Apparently his kindergarten classmates get a big earful too.
At conferences his teacher told me that often a classmate will approach her and with exasperation exclaim, "he's talking at me! He won't stop!"
She will then kindly ask him to be quiet, and he will look at her with much confusion.

I wonder if it's sinking in that I am not asking him to be quiet because I am mean and tyrannical.

10-27-10

2010-10-27T19:37:00.000-07:00

Candace woke up feeling great, and wanted to go to school. So I sent her. She came home half way through the day. I was in the middle of human biology lab learning about fetal development by looking at fertilized chicken eggs. I need all the points I can get in that class. I am so glad my sister was able to pick her up and bring her home.
We shall see how she feels on Saturday. Poor kid.
She has an eye Dr. appointment tomorrow. Hopefully she feels well enough for that.
So... I went to the Dr. yesterday too. I now am on medical assistance, so I am not at the mercy of the VA medical system. Don't get me wrong, it's a good system. If you're retired.
Anyway. Back in September my VA endocrinologist (who I really liked) told me that I had suspicious cells on my thyroid, and that half of it needed to be removed. I asked him if it could wait until December 15th when I am done with classes for the semester. He told me no, that he'd like it done within six weeks. He put a referral in to the surgeons, and told me they'd call me.
No call ever came.
Two weeks ago I called. I talked to a nurse who told me that I'd be getting a call soon.
No call ever came.
I decided to show up in person at the VA clinic here in town. A nurse sat down with me. He looked it up in the computer.
Get this.
It shows the referral to see the non-VA endocrinologist for the biopsy, but that's it.
No results.
No referral.
The reason the nurse gave me is that my primary care doctor is no longer working for the VA. I don't really know how all that works, but it frustrates me.
So, now that I have MA, I called the civilian clinic, got an appointment with a family practice Dr, and he got me referrals to see an ENT (the ENT does the thyroid surgeries) and the endocrinologist who did my biopsy. The endo will hopefully figure out why my cortisol levels are so dang low. My ENT appointment is next week. My endo appointment is the day before thanksgiving.
Whew.
Who wants to place a bet that the VA will get back to me as soon as my surgery is over?

Pneumonia

2010-10-26T17:44:00.000-07:00

Yesterday Candace stayed home from school with a fever and feeling "icky." This morning the fever went even higher. 102.7. I had a Dr. appointment (for issues relating to my thyroid surgery that will hopefully soon be scheduled), and Candace asked to come with.
Candace is a girl who HATES the Dr. The mere possibility that she might have a needle stuck in her for any reason terrifies her. So, when she asked to go to the Dr, I called to see if she could get in with me.
My kids usually see a pediatrician. I see a family practice Dr. He was more than happy to see her too.
He took care of ordering the referrals I needed (another post another day about that) and then turned his attention to Candace.
Poor thing was pale with dark circles under her eyes. She was wrapped up in her Tinkerbell blanket.
She answered all the questions. No ear ache, no sore throat, no cough. Just fever and aches.
He asked about tick bites. But then decided that she'd only been sick for two days, so it's premature to wonder about lymes.
He looked in her ears, eyes and throat. All looked good. He said he might order a strep culture just because it's going around. I told him none of my kids have ever had strep, and I have not had it since 1996. (I think we are immune.) Then he listened to her lungs.
Not once.
Not twice.
Three times he listed to her lungs.
"She has pneumonia," he puzzled. "But she's not coughing."
He listened again.
"Yep there's a definite crackle on her right side. But no coughing."
He prescribed an anti-biotic, and told us he'd skip the strep culture to save us some $ because the anti-biotics would take care of strep too. That made Candace very happy. She HATES having those swabs shoved down her throat.
So my poor girl has spent two days feeling icky. I hope the meds do the trick and she feels good enough to swim in her final meet of the season on Saturday.

10-25-10

2010-10-25T19:38:00.000-07:00

I was going to do a photo catch up post, but am confused. There are errors in each photo I try to upload. And seriously, my head hurts too much for me to even attempt to try to figure out why.
Yes. My head still hurts. Yes. I am going to the Dr. tomorrow. For other unrelated matters, but I will be bringing up my little fall off the big horse.
Ferb told me today that he does not want to be a pirate. He saw a transformers costume in a Walmart ad that he has his heart set on. I told him we will have to see.
I spent the afternoon in Phineas' classroom for the "Fall Costume Party." It was fun. We brought a pumpkin from our garden for the kindergarteners to scoop out. They loved it!
This is where I would post a picture.
Sorry.
It is supposed to snow on Wednesday. Yikes.
Snow.

10-24-10

2010-10-24T17:41:00.000-07:00

It's official. Ferb will be a pirate again for Halloween. I asked him today if he would be a pirate, and he looked at me like I was dense and said, "yeah."
My head hurts still. My neck muscles are killing me. I am trying to concentrate on homework... but it's just not happening.
And that's it for tonight folks.

When you fall off a horse, get right back on.

2010-10-24T06:42:00.000-07:00

(I wrote this last night, most of it anyway... on my iPhone. Then it FROZE. I could not post it. So. This is my blog for yesterday.)

It's not just a metaphor today.
The kids are with their dad this weekend. My dad and his horse club had a ride today. I went with.
It's been a long time since I rode a horse.
Today I rode a big pintabian Percheron cross named Duchess. She's a good horse. She loves trail rides. I spent a lot of time reminding her to walk, not trot.
At one point she was just itching to go fast. We were at a nice open place on the trail, near the edge of a feild. I made her mind, and she walked. Then I commanded her to trot.
She did not trot.
She was in heaven. She ran.
Fast.
I was ok with it, until the saddle began to slide to the right.
Then I hit the ground.
On my head.
My body followed. Then my head went up and back down again. I just laid there because my dad's horse had taken off too. I could hear the hoof beats, and did not want to be crushed. Then I tried to get up, but my head was spinning and my eyes were watering like they always do before I pass out. I laid back down. Then I found my glasses. Then I got up.
OUCH.
Someone helped me get the saddle back on Duchess. Then I got back on that horse.
She still wanted to go. I spent most of the rest of the ride telling her to walk. She wanted to GO.
My dad and I walked our horses the last little stretch of the trail. About a quarter mile from the house we were meeting at my eyes did that watering thing and my head SPUN. I sat down as soon as I could. Then I laid down and snoozed. Supper was ribs. (Yum.) Then I went home.

I did have some random thoughts while riding.

"This horse must be a sensory seeker." Seriously! She had a need to be right next to other horses and be touching them. With her head, neck, body... she seemed to crave touch from other horses. Like Phineas does from people.

"I can't wait to blog about this!" Yes. I thought about blogging while riding!

"I'm gonna check my email on my iPhone JUST BECAUSE I CAN! I'm not addicted to technology..." Really, I mean, I checked my email in the middle of the woods! I think that's pretty cool.

10-22-10

2010-10-22T20:12:00.000-07:00

What happens when the sun rises?

Why, the moon sets, of course!

This was the view outside my bedroom window when I woke up this morning.

It was beautiful.

Yes, I Am Still Homesick...

2010-10-21T07:47:00.000-07:00

I miss that beach.

I miss my board.

We still do "shaka," but it's not the same.

I miss my buff surfer arms.

Ok, it's not all that bad.

Living in the Northwoods isn't TERRIBLE.

Just cold.

Very cold.

It's currently 37 degrees here.

In October.

April can't come soon enough.

Today, A Little Homesickness...

2010-10-20T13:31:00.000-07:00

Can it be true?

Winter is coming?

Has it really been a little more than two years since these pictures were taken?

Kids at the Beach

Those dresses don't fit anymore.

Brothers.

Isabella.

Love.

Ferb and Me.

Candace and Me.

Yes. You do see an extra pair of little feet.

They belong to our foster baby.

I miss that little guy.

Handsome Phineas.

The sun is shining here in the Northwoods, but the wind is whipping.

It is chilly. The kind of chill that says, "warm days? forget it. For at least six months."

I miss my Island Home.

10-19-10

2010-10-19T21:23:00.000-07:00

I have posted pictures of the sunset over our lake. I am trying to think, (It's late, and this daily blogging thing is taking it's toll on the quality of my posts, so please forgive me if I have posted this picture before.) if I have posted the sunrise over our farm.
Well, I'm gonna post it now.
So get ready.
'Cause it's pretty.
So pretty, in fact, that when Phineas saw this particular sunrise he went nuts.
"MOM! The sky! WOW! Just look at this beautiful earth!"

10-18-10

2010-10-18T21:32:00.000-07:00

Today has been a better day.
I was able to eat!
My kids only had one major issue!
(Are you surprised it was in the van?)
I have a new to me van.
Vintage 1996 Honda Odyssey. It's wonderful, but I need to reconfigure the seating arrangement.
Isabella won two awards at the Boys and Girls Club. One for homework points, and one for being a book worm! These awards are very big deals!
Phineas does not go to the Club, and Candace swims, so she does not go either.
Ferb goes.
He did not get an award.
It was announced that all the kids were getting awards. After the ceremony the director said that if he missed any, to come tell him. Ferb told him, he looked for an award, and there was not one. He told Ferb that he would get one at the next awards ceremony. Apparently they do four a year. Ferb was not bothered by it at all.
I am trying not to be bothered by it.
It's really hard to do.
And I blogged! Go me! Haven't missed a day yet! I feel badly about the quality of my posts....
Oh well.

10-17-10

2010-10-17T16:34:00.000-07:00

To blog to blog to blog... Lots going on inside my head... what to share? What do people want to read about?
I have been having a marvelous weekend loving on my nephews. Friday was the Pumpkin Party. WHAT FUN!!! Saturday was my sister's open house. I love putting on shin digs like that. I busied myself making sure pitchers of lemonade and water were full, and nacho fixins were all stocked.
At some point during the party I holed myself up in the bathroom. I was SICK. I hate being sick. I hate that my body can't quite get things right. My stomach knotted up in pain and my head swam. No one noticed I was gone, and I wanted it that way. There was no way I wanted to take any attention away from my little sister.
After clean up was done, we went to another shin-dig to celebrate my cousin's wedding. My Aunt P, an RN, noticed how pale I was. Truth be told, I forced myself to eat a piece of cake. FORCED.
Then I took my girls to the school carnival, where my oldest and I volunteered to man the rock wall. I sat on a chair the entire time feeling crummy. (The boys were with their dad for the weekend.)
Then we went to see "Secretariat." I really enjoyed it. I was able to SIT and not do anything but watch a movie.
Today I went to church. I ended up in the hall for the second half of it holding my sleeping nephew. It was heaven. Then we ate pot-luck. Then my sisters, my girls and I all went to my cousin's baby shower. I did not even force myself to eat this time. I just sat there. Held babies. Chatted with people I love.
The thing is, I look normal. Some people see me and tell me how great I look. I know they just say such things because I am so dang skinny. On the other hand, some people tell me I am far too thin.
Bottom line is, I feel like crap. Twice today I stood up too fast and blacked out, not to the point of passing out, but to the point of grabbing something to brace myself and get through it. My blood pressure is too low. I am freezing. It's like my body has thrown homeostasis to the way side. Eating scares me. I don't want to feel the knots in my stomach. My house is a disaster. I have company. I have school. I have four kids who need me at my best.
So I press on. Mind over matter.

$20.25

2010-10-16T21:55:00.000-07:00

We had a girls' night tonight. My sisters, my mom, my daughters, my aunt, my cousin's daughter and I all went to see "Secretariat."
It was a good movie. I mean, you know how it ends. You know the horse wins. But as it happens you find yourself cheering, clenching your fists, willing Big Red to WIN! And he does. Because he's Secretariat.
I especially loved the ride home. It was just me and my girls. I loved their excitement.
"IT WAS SUCH A GOOD MOVIE!"
"Can you believe he sired SIX HUNDRED FOALS?"
"He did THAT SIX HUNDRED TIMES!" (At this point I had to explain artificial insemination.)
My sisters arrived home shortly after us. The conversation continued, this time involving my dad. (He saw the movie last weekend.)
I'm not a horse person. So I just listened.
The consensus was that "Seabiscuit" was a better movie. And Man-o-War was a better horse.
Then my dad told my girls that my sister's horse, Magnum Hank, is a descendant of Man-o-War.
My girls were in awe.
They are now in bed at this late hour. Not sleeping, but chatting excitedly about horses and movies and all things 10 and 11 year old girls get excited about.
I love it. It was so worth the $20.25 I spent on movie tickets! So worth it!

PUMPKIN PARTY!

2010-10-15T19:50:00.000-07:00

Tonight we had FUN.
SO MUCH FUN!
This is going to be a new tradition that we will hold each October.
Think a farm on a lake.
Think a garden full of pumpkins.
Think 30-something kids.
Think donuts.
Hot apple cider.
Hot chocolate.
Carmel apples.
Carmel popcorn.
Hot dog mummies.
FUN!
We invited lots of friends out to our house to help find homes for the 40-something pumpkins we had in our garden.
My one regret is that I did not take many pictures.
I was too busy playing hostess!
The kids had a ball.
The pumpkins will not go to waste.
We have some wonderful memories that we hope to build on year after year.
The sun set in the sky over the lake. It cast a lovely glow on the children, but they hardly noticed it.
They were too busy having FUN!
(I will have to post some pictures later. I am EXHAUSTED and need to get to bed!)

10-14-10

2010-10-14T21:30:00.000-07:00

I have a lot on my mind, and it's nothing that I am comfortable blogging about. For now, anyway.
Let's just say that in the past week I have been judged directly and indirectly on several occasions.
This is nothing new. On many occasions people have passed judgment on my simply based on what they perceive to be gross offenses of human dignity.
I have been judged for my weight, be it thin or fat.
When I was overweight I experienced terrible customer service. I had people glare at me as I struggled to balance my extra prednisone weight and a double stroller through a door with three small children in tow. I was not lazy. I was ill, and the medicine that saved my life also made me gain more than eighty pounds in less than six months. Being thin, as a rule, I generally get very good customer service. Sometimes I find myself jaded. Wondering if they are treating all people as nicely as they treat me. As a thin person I have had others comment that it "must be nice" to be so thin. Honestly, I'd rather feel good and have a few extra pounds. Auto-immune diseases can be very deceptive. The sufferer looks wonderful, but feels like death.
I have been judged for having lots of kids.
When I was a foster parent there were times when I would be out in public with six kids. One time a very rude woman in the NEX made a comment about so many kids. It was a very rude comment. I told her, well, I do foster care. I suddenly went from scum to sainthood. I stopped caring about what others said after that. When a woman in Ben Franklin asked if all my kids were mine, I said "yes." It was the truth, at that point all four kids were mine. She said an knowing "OH" and walked away shaking her head. My kids were different races, so it looked like I had kids from at least two different dads. I really didn't care what she thought.
I know who I am and what I stand for. Small minded people can pass all the judgment they want. It won't hurt me.
I think it will actually make me a better social worker someday.

She's HOME!!!

2010-10-13T21:18:00.000-07:00

My baby sister just returned from a Spanish speaking mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints in Tampa, Florida!
So glad to have her home!

ARG!

2010-10-12T09:15:00.000-07:00

Ferb has been a pirate for Halloween ever since his second year of kindergarten when he was five years old.

That's three years of being a pirate.

Every time I ask him what he wants to be for Halloween, his IMMEDIATE response is "pirate." He does not say it excitedly, he says it in more of the "duh, mom" tone of voice.

What else is there to be for Halloween, anyway?

I did not take pictures of Halloween 2008, because I had broke my foot and was a little high on pain killers. Doesn't really matter for Ferb, cause he looked just like he did in 2009.

This year he did waiver when I asked what he wanted to be for Halloween. He might have some other grand idea.

I'm kinda hoping he wants to be a pirate again.

Cause it's cute.

(And easy.)

10-11-10

2010-10-11T20:31:00.000-07:00

The test went OK. Glad it's over.
School is paid for. Yay!
Ferb's IEP meeting went well.
And, I talked to my academic adviser today.
Surprise surprise. I am a sophomore. I thought I was a semester away from that! If I work my behind off I will be graduated in May 2013!
The kids had an ok day today. I decided not to stress over homework today. Good choice since after supper I was struck with some stomach pain and upset. Blech. No time to be sick.

10-10-10

2010-10-10T20:23:00.000-07:00

This morning Ferb told me that it was a special day because it's 10-10-10.
Then he had a melt down because his brother got the bigger cereal bowl.
The entire day went down hill from there.
Phineas has been doing well. I was so pleased when he empathized with Candace on Friday. Today he has been following directions so well.
It's very good that my kids can stagger their bad days.
Ferb did not want to go to church. We sat in the parking lot for most of the first hour. Then he went in. I was SPENT. So I asked my mom to take the boys home after church, and I went home. Then my mom took the boys to her place after church. It was inspired on her part. I have an algebra and math reasoning test tomorrow. The quiet house was perfect for study. When I hit a brick wall I called my neighbor who happens to be a math professor at the same university I go to. He was very helpful! I am not good with math. I will be so glad when the test is DONE. I will be even more glad when the semester is OVER.

I'll end this random thought post with a cute picture. I was trying to make my bed yesterday, but this little cutie had other ideas!

"Go ahead. TRY to make this bed!"

Candace Needs to Catch a Break

2010-10-09T12:14:00.000-07:00

Seriously! It feels like it's all raining and pouring on this girl lately.
Her beloved horse, Dixie, got her leg caught in something in the pasture, and it's cut wide open. The vet came out, fixed it up, and told us no riding for 4 to 6 weeks.
And this is PRIME riding weather.
This is the third time this horse has had an issue. First it was her hoof. It got fixed. Then she cut her leg. It wasn't serious, but it prevented Candace from riding in a horse show.
Yesterday as I pulled up to the middle school so Isabella and Phineas could participate in the run, I saw Candace sitting on the lawn. Actually, Phineas saw her first.
"Candace looks sad."
Sure enough, she was crying. I was worried. She was not supposed to be there. She was supposed to be at the high school for a swim meet! She had missed the bus when she got distracted in class!
I pulled over, got her in the car, and called my dad who was on his way to pick her up. He said he was just turning it, and he'd take her. He was late because some kid rear ended him! Because of the law of gross tonnage, his truck was fine. He rushed Candace to the high school in time for the meet.
She swam well, but finished at the end of each heat, except for one. She was second to the last in that one.
Candace is so bright and beautiful and smart... I just want this girl to catch a break!

Candace and Dixie at the County Fair this summer

October 8th

2010-10-08T21:55:00.000-07:00

Lots happened today, but this post will be about Isabella.

Today was a great day for Isabella.

She won a race.

She really needed this accomplishment. She works harder than most kids do just to accomplish the mediocre.

Well, today she told me she was gonna win the race, and she did.

This afternoon the high school cross country team hosted the elementary run. K through 3rd graders ran the 1/2 mild, and 4th and 5th graders ran 3/4 of a mile.

Ferb opted out of the run, and helped the tennis players pick up balls instead. Candace had a swim meet. (More on that in another post.)

Phineas ran the first race. His little classmate, a teeny tiny little bitty girl BEAT HIM! That girl can run! I think they were the fastest kindergarteners. The teeny little girl's big sister won first place for the girls in that race. He was pretty upset that he did not win. He then asked the teeny friend if they could practice running together. Cute!

Then The 4th and 5th graders ran.

Isabella talked about pacing herself. She did well. Then at the end she looked rather sluggish. Phineas and I began to cheer for her.

She looked up.

She saw the finish line.

Her face brightened, and she RAN!

She was the first girl!

Oh the joy!

She won a shirt.

And she won a huge shot of confidence.

Way to go, Isabella!

October 7th - The Things They Say Thursday

2010-10-07T18:07:00.000-07:00

Most Thursday posts are funny or cute. This Thursday post is more the heartwarming type.
So, most of you know that I had a thyroid biopsy, and suspicious cells (folicular neoplasts) were found in the 2.8 centimeter nodule. So half of thyroid is coming out. If they find cancer when they do the surgery, they will take the entire thyroid out. I am still waiting for the consult with the surgeon.
Anyway. I am always very up front with my kids about my medical procedures and appointments. Five years ago my small bowel perforated, and I spent a month in the hospital. And there's been countless other hospitalizations. And two other surgeries. My three big kids remember it all. They need me to be up front.
Phineas, on the other hand... lets just say he's FREAKED OUT. He does not want my "neck to get cutted. That means YOU DIE, mommy. I DO NOT WANT YOU TO DIE." He's having some serious anxiety about it. I feel bad, but if my big kids know I'm going to the Dr, and they don't know what's up, they get the serious anxiety. I just can't win.
Any way, I get a lot of talk from my girls about what's gonna happen and such. Phineas talks with me about it at least once a day. Ferb has not brought it up at all.
Until this morning.
And it was the sweetest thing.
He said our family prayer before heading off to school. Usually his prayers are pretty generic.
This morning he said the most heart felt prayer.
"... and please bless Mom. Please bless that when they take her thyroid out it's not cancer. Please bless that she can get better really fast..."
I about melted. What a great kid. What faith. I love him!

October 6th

2010-10-06T21:02:00.000-07:00

Today I am sore.
Why? Because yesterday I got in a rather unexpected work out.
We took my mom's dog to the vet to get her shots. (Dropped her off on my way in to class, then she picked the dog up after work.) I had just Isabella and Ferb with me. Ferb held her leash. Then Isabella noticed that Ferb was holding the leash. Isabella is very concerned with ~~getting to do the cool things and not her brothers~~ all things being fair. She told Ferb to give her the leash. I made an attempt ~~to keep Isabella from having a fit and accusing me of favoring the boys~~ to give each child a fair turn, and said "Ferb, let Isabella have a turn."
Isabella was poised at pre-fit mode. The voice was higher, she was commanding Ferb in her whiney voice to give her the leash.
Then the dog noticed where we were.
The last time she was here she went to sleep and woke up missing a uterus.
She balked, right there in the doorway. The kids did not notice it. They were too worried about who was going to hold the leash.
I ordered them to give the leash to me.
But they did not listen.
Cause it is my joy in life to take away and fun they might have. (That's how they see it, anyway.) So therefore they must ignore what I tell them, because what I am telling them is tyranical nonsense.
Molly pulled back and the collar popped off.
Molly RAN.
Isabella stood there screaming. "MOLLY!"
Ferb took off after Molly.
I took off after Ferb.
Now, this vet is located on a frontage road off a major highway. The speed limit is 35 because there is a stop light just ahead.
No one drives 35. 65 is more the norm.
Molly ran across the highway and into the median.
FERB FOLLOWED.
I WAS SCREAMING.
Thank goodness no one was hit by a car.
Ferb was BALLING.
I told him, "didn't you hear me yelling at you to stop?"
"Yes. But I really didn't want Molly to become a stray."
"Well, I really didn't want you to get hit by a car."
I then continued to hug him and alternately lecture on NOT CHASING ANYTHING on to a road.
Even a special dog.
I held the leash, and led Molly back to the vet. Isabella was crying too.
I took the opportunity to remind them that when I tell them to do something it is usually to keep them (and animals) safe.
Ignoring me is not an option.

nablowrimo October 5th

2010-10-05T21:46:00.000-07:00

Candace just informed me that she cannot sleep.
She is reading the final Harry Potter book.
"I just can't believe Harry Potter is gonna have to die, Mom."
For a moment I considered telling her that he does not die, just so she'd go to sleep.
Instead I told her, "you haven't finished the book, honey. Now go to sleep."
Poor thing had tears in her eyes.
She's gonna be so tired in the morning!
The I remembered that I had not blogged. So here I sit, just before midnight, blogging.
I wonder if I will make for the rest of the month?

Best Picture Ever.

2010-10-04T12:54:00.000-07:00