the cure

Who new taking a sick baby out into the frigid winter night could be a cure?

The boy got sick right after I did.... of course. Staying home with a baby while you're sick, it's a fairly good bet you'll pass it along. At first, he seemed to just get a little of what I had with a runny nose and a little fever. Didn't last long, but then showed signs of lingering, metamorphosing into another strain altogether.
Got to the point he's coughing himself awake at night and during naps, which is leading to a crib phobia. He has been sleeping through the night for a few months, and taking good naps without much fuss. The past week, he cries when you put him down, cries when he wakes, and is up several times a night.

As a parent it is difficult to see your child hurting like this. But alas, there is nothing you can do. A little Tylenol for the fever, TLC for everything else. You cannot give any other medications to a 7 month old. So you hope each morning this day is better then the last and keep the TLC coming.

So when invited to go out to a local Christmas light celebration (booths and lights everywhere for about a month), your initial reaction is to pass b/c baby isn't feeling well. You then take note that although said baby is still coughing and has a runny nose, he appears to be feeling quite fine, actually. Thus deciding to risk it and go knowing he will love the lights and the people and the company of grandma and grandpa.

And he does. At first he doesn't really look up. Maybe because he's in the stroller wearing 3 layers of clothing and then covered by a thick blanket, hat, gloves that don't fit, and booties. Poor thing can barely move, much less look UP. But he likes the music and the people and the girls dancing in the amphitheatre.
And then I pick him up and carry him and all at once he spots the lights. BAM! Head goes back, eyes open wide. Mom's arm almost falls off trying to hold this uncomfortable position, but it's so amazing to see the reflection of all those lights in his little eyes that we hold it just a while longer.

He fell asleep in the car on the way home, right around when he would usually go to bed anyway. Woke up when getting his pj's on, but right back to sleep within a minute of going in the crib. Not a cough or a whimper all night.

Was it the cold air? The lights? The excitement? something snuffed out the cough and this morning we woke up bright and cheery.
Notice I said WE.

intuition

I've discovered child intuition.

Often we hear of Mother's intuition, or sibling, but this past week and especially today have taught me about baby intuition.
After running ragged the past weekend, I came down ill Monday morning. A head cold, not the end of the world, but definitely difficult when you are caring for a seven month old more or less by yourself. Nose running, head aching, stomach turning, mouth coughing, and all whilst trying my best NOT to so much as breathe on the babe.

He has been a cranky pants all week. Today, I woke up feeling a tun better, head somewhat cleared, nose no longer in a tissue using marathon. And the boy sensed it. He has been a joy today. Laughing, babbling, smiling, snuggling. Love incarnate.

I feel better, he feels better.
Ahhhhhhhh. Aren't drugs wonderful!

And so we continue to prepare for a small Christmas, just us and the parents and my brother. We had a big party on Sunday with about 35 people, lots of kids and running around. It was wonderful. I love the holidays. I focus on all the family and friends and support we have, and how pretty everything looks, and 24 hours of a Christmas Story on TV. I try to focus on all that and leave the rest behind.
I hope you are all able to do the same~

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, Cheery Holiday, and anything else you may find yourself having the celebrate this season. May the families we have be healthy and happy, & the families we don't be waiting just around the New Year's corner.

I saw, I spoke, I wait

I met with the GAL at the courthouse. She was very nice and appeared genuinely interested with what I had to bring to the table.
She immediately asked me what I had done to piss off the cm's supervisor. When I asked why, she stated she questioned the cm on her lack of communication with the foster mother. She reported her supervisor had instructed her NOT to provide any detailed information to the foster home. Guess I wasn't so far off base. I briefly told the GAL about that situation, so now she understands where I'm coming from.
She confirmed there were people living in the home that shouldn't have been and she gave warning to the cm this needed to be addressed. She let me know they were planning on allowing the 13 year old daughter to take care of the baby while the mgm was at work. She told them no way, no how, and that appropriate daycare will be utilized.

So basically, she seems on top of it.
I know the boy will be going with MGM, I just want to make sure all his needs are going to be met and we make it as smooth a transition as possible. GAL in agreement and requested visitation be bumped up ASAP. I mean, if mgm is all that and more, then why are they still supervised in the first place??
Ahhhh. Time to let this one go. For now.

I am now focusing on Christmas, most specifically making stockings. God forbid I do anything so easy as just purchasing them. Any ideas? I purchased a bunch of felt and found a few patterns online. I have a bunch of sequins and beads and 'stuff' and am waiting for inspiration.

the line has broken

To say it has been difficult to take off my case manager hat in order to don the foster mom hat would be an understatement. It's been hell. Almost impossible to stop thinking the way you have been for almost sever years. To suddenly be on the outside. I knew it would be hard, but had to be done in order to best serve my new role without pissing off every case manager I ended-up working with. This being our first foster child, I have been extra good, keeping my mouth shut and only offering up minimal suggestions to benefit the midget.

And yet I've been shut out.

The case manager has responded to the 3 e-mails I have sent her over the past 4.5 months. I have not actually seen or spoken to her since she dropped the boy off in July. That's ok. He's doing well, has no special needs, nothing I really need her assistance with. She had informed me the MGM (maternal grandmother) was being considered for placement. OK. Now we start thinking along those lines, knowing the heartache that will occur when he goes, but at least we know.

He has visits with MGM once per week for one hour at the CPS office. I suggested these need to increase in both time and duration, as well as moving to MGM home so he is able to familiarize himself with the new surroundings.
No response.

I requested information on what daycare situation he would be in so that we could start with some kind of transition. I was aware MGM works, thus my assumption would be some kind of daycare. I offered to start transporting him to whatever daycare she would utilize so he could get used to it (as opposed to being with me 24/7).
No response.

I requested information on the next court hearing so that I may attend and see what's happening first hand.
No response.

On Wednesday, I get a call from the CM. She informs me there was a court hearing on Monday and MGM has been approved for placement. Holding my tongue about not being told about the hearing, I only ask when she plans to increase visitation, and how much time before he goes. She states she will talk to the case aide about visits as she is the one who has been scheduling and supervising them. She states MGM has SOME THINGS TO WRAP UP so it is unlikely he will transfer to her care until January.

Right after this conversation, I check my e-mail. An old co-worker has forwarded a message sent to all of CPS from the supervisor of the midget's case manager. My co-worker has attached her own comment above the e-mail stating:
This sounds eerily like your midget's case??

The e-mail reports a family on the worker's load is in need of assistance. If anyone saw the news, on Thanksgiving day there was a house fire leaving 15 people homeless. Her family has three children and will be getting custody of their grandchild. If anyone can provide assistance or resources for assistance it would be appreciated.

In a follow-up e-mail, she stated the Red Cross will be assisting the family, however, their help is limited due to the family's legal status.

This prompts me to look up news stories on home fires on Thanksgiving as sure as shit, there it is. A picture of a burned up house with the car MGM drives to and from visits in the driveway. The article states the home owner is NOT MGM, and there were 5 adults and 8 children in the residence.

MGM has some things to wrap up.

ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS????????

It is at this juncture, my already thin line between foster parent and case manager snapped and my head started spinning.
How did they pass a home study with that many people in the home? How were background checks completed with no social security numbers? Why is the cm saying stupid shit like MGM has some things to wrap up with the woman is now homeless with three children and no belongings?

So I sent an e-mail to the GAL (guardian ad litem - atty who represents the child's best interests) voicing my concerns and apologizing if I was overstepping any boundaries. She agreed to meet with me at the court house between hearings on Monday.

As a last note, I know exactly why the cm is blocking me out. Her supervisor and I used to work together. Without going into detail, she did some shady stuff - providing case information on one of my cases to an opposing attorney. She was written up and told to take some time off, but that was it. And now she's a supervisor. Yeah, welcome to THE SYSTEM.
I'm pretty sure once she knew who the baby was getting placed with she had a talk with her worker. Whatever. Little does she know I also know how to work a room and will plant a big bug in the GAL's ear about the entire situation.
And did I mention I got the dirt on the GAL from another co-worker? I already know exactly what buttons to push to get my point across.

Houston, we have a milestone......

The boy is now up on hands AND knees, rocking like he's at a concert. Yes folks, it will not be long until the baby gates must extend, the floor must be cleaned, and the pants pulled out of the dresser (to protect those cute little knees, doncha know).

On a less exciting and more annoying note, he has also discovered how to whine. And boy does he practice. Yeesh.
I have found he is less whiny when left to his own devices - AKA ignored. This moment, he is contently in the exersaucer watching a Sesame Street sing along video, jumping and eating toys and drooling. A moment ago, I popped my head in to see how he was and the moment he spotted me the evil whining midget took over the cute smiling boy. I made a quick retreat and we are once again happy, smiling boy winning out and back in charge.

I got our first baby book, from ebay, and will be starting to fill in some pages. There are some things I will write on sticky notes, more personal things I may want to know and write in should the book stay with us, with the boy it belongs to. Otherwise the MGM will have everything she ever wanted to know about him for when he gets bigger and wants to know. I will download most of our pictures onto a disk, print some to go into the book. It's difficult because I don't want to 'waste' time and money making a cute scrapbook for him in case he goes away, but I don't want to withhold anything either. It's not his fault he's in foster care!
I know in the end my creative scrapbooking pull will likely win out and the money and time will be spent.... But don't tell my husband about that just yet.

A duck is a duck is a duck

Was anyone else disappointed in Halloween this year? I bought EIGHT bags of candy and we had a total of 10 trick or treaters. So sad. So full of candy (we can't just waste it, right??).
The boy was dressed up as a duck, waiting to expose his cuteness to door ringers, but alas, it was not to be. And not just because there weren't any~

First off, the zipper broke on the outfit. No biggie, nothing a safety pin couldn't handle.
Second, it's unseasonable hot here in Phoenix, so he was turning into a roasted duck pretty quickly.
Third, the dog thought he was a giant stuffed animal and kept trying to get him.
And the funniest part was his rigidity in the outfit. For those of you who watch 24 hours of a Christmas Story on TNT every year, you are as familiar with the classic as I am. I put the boy on the floor to move the candy bowl. He was laying there with his arm out not moving a muscle. Didn't even turn his head! Reminded me of the scene in which the little brother is in his snow clothes and can't put his arms down or move. You have to understand what I'm talking about to get the chuckle here.

Because we didn't feel we got our full $8.00 out of the duck costume, we decided to put him in it again for an encore performance with the grandparents on Friday night. He was a bit happier in it, even smiled for pictures this time. And now the duck has been retired to the box labeled 3-6 months in the closet for another child another year......

I have decided that instead of droning on and on about my infertile angst, I will focus more on stories and things regarding the midget. Another way to try and see the glass half full, and find enough to allow everyone a sip.

The journey

No news.
Pisser.
Oh the waiting and waiting and waiting.
Is that all there is when it comes to IVF, adoption, children??

I remember waiting for my period after we were officially trying. Every month. Hoping I'd be waiting for 9 months, but not to be.

I remember waiting for my first fertility specialist appointment. Sitting in the examination room hoping to be told there's nothing wrong with me, just take this little pill and you'll get pregnant straight away.

I remember my first test, going to the hospital and laying on a cold metal table waiting for a late doctor. I remember him showing up and my disbelief this chest hair sticking out of a huge collared shirt with gold chains and a stash guy was going to be poking around in MY private parts. I remember immediately thinking I bet this guy was a porn star in the 70s. I remember the excruciating pain as the dye was torpedoed into my tubes. I remember being told 'this is the best time to get pregnant because everything is wide open now'.

I remember the consult discussing the mixed results of the test. 'It's a very gray area at this time. There may be some blockage here, but we can't be certain. Your best bet is to go with IVF, which would bypass any tubal issues'. I remember looking over the finance sheet and joking we could ditch the process and go buy a car.

I remember the shots.

I remember being told this would be a one shot deal. 2 embryos, I prayer.

I remember the transfer. Not the procedure, but the doctor telling me right in the middle I said out loud that if this didn't work, when I went to heaven I was going to take a piss on the pearly gates.

I remember going home and laying around for a few days. I remember thinking to myself 'Right this moment, I AM pregnant.'

I remember rushing home to answer the phone and get the news. I remember my husband doing the same. I remember getting the call on my cell phone when I was 2 miles from home. Being told the test was negative. I remember feeling as though I had to hold it together long enough to get home or I was going to run my car into the median.

I remember the look of devastation on my husband's face.

I remember restored hope, a new specialist. Someone who appeared to talk to me, not at me. Someone who appeared to be on the leading edge of technology. Willing to try new things to get the results. Someone who would not beat around the bush, but gave it to me straight.

I remember the shots.

I remember the call from the embryologist saying none of the eggs appeared to be viable. They were not multiplying. I remember not understanding what the fuck this guy was saying because of his stupid accent. I remember cursing a lot and trying desperately to get in touch with my specialist. I remember panic and anger and irritation.

I remember sitting in the waiting room for an eternity, still unclear what to expect. Would there be a transfer? Was anything left? I remember being told there were 2 possibles.

I remember laying around for a few days. I remember thinking 'Right at this moment I AM pregnant'.

I remember being told I was not.

I remember the discussion with the specialist, about how my eggs appear to be flawed. They are missing the mechanism that allows them to multiply and divide. We could keep going, hoping for one viable egg, but maybe we should look into donor eggs.

I remember waiting to get over it as much as possible.

I remember all the waiting between the memories. Each time waiting for a result, a decision, a choice. At least with the IVF process we had choices. Not many, but some. The outcome was out of our hands, but the journey was not.
Foster care is somewhat the same. I chose the color of the nursery, the crib, the ages and sex and issues of the children we will consider caring for.
But the outcome is out of our hands again.

Thus I am trying to focus on the journey. Trying to learn how to parent in practical experience, not just theory and old nanny jobs. But 24/7. Trying to enjoy whatever time we have with this funny little boy. Trying not to focus on the outcome.

And I am sooooooo full of shit.
But at least I'm trying.

The cup floweth under

As I took the time to check out my fellow bloggers current thoughts, I was struck by the most recent post by Beagle. Sorry, no computer whiz here or I'd do the thingy where you can click on the name and see what I'm talking about.
ANYHOO~

There seems to be this in-between time where we are not really sad, but not really happy. Call it an emotional limbo of sorts. Things could be worse, but could be much better. How full is your glass yadda yadda yadda.

I am currently in that limbo, from my toes to my nose.
I thought having a baby would be the IT for me. I was so sure quitting my job and being a stay at home foster parent would fill that lurking void. I don't talk about it much anymore, but the IF hole is still a pretty big chunk out of my heart and my soul. Joking about having rotten eggs is my way of coping, but behind the attempted humor, there is perpetual heartache.
And now I have succeeded in my attempt to fill the void by following through with my plan ~ quitting my job, getting licensed for foster care, decorating a nursery and a toddler room, all the plastic in all the outlets. And now a beautiful baby boy.
And i am not satisfied in the least.
OK, maybe in the least. But not as I thought I would be.

I am bored as a stay at home parent, not necessarily wishing I had kept my job, but now doubting my decision to not work. And when there's one doubt, there's sure to be another holding it's hand, and then a whole party dancing around in your head.

I realize some of this comes from the news the baby will be leaving. But in all honesty, I've not been overjoyed from the get go. At first it was being tired and the new experience and trying to make sure I was doing everything right. But still not the joy.

What is most difficult is not knowing when it will happen. When I will get hit when the thought that 'this is it and I'm happy and this is all I've ever wanted'. That moment when all seems right with the world. When some of the emotional damage I've endured by not being able to have the one thing I've always wanted fades. When I am no longer angry with my own body, or saddened by my own depression, or perpetually questioning my decisions since the ones I was so sure of are not turning out as I thought.

I can't tell if my cup is half full or half empty. But I can tell you I hope someone comes along and fills the damn thing to the rim sometime soon~ because I've been thirsty a long time.

foster care updates and such

The boy may be leaving.

-sniff-

This is the risk you take when you sign up for foster care. You risk giving your heart to this little soul, only to have it fly away.
He is such a wonderful baby, smiling all the time. ALL THE TIME. hard to believe any person of any age could be this happy, but he is.

We have no details yet, only that the MGM is being considered for placement. I have a call in to the case manager trying to get a time line.
I am hopeful there will be enough time between now and then to work on a slow transition. He has recently become upset by strangers. He cried during the last visit and was hard to console. I know MGM works, thus will be putting him in daycare. While this is unavoidable, it will be hard for him as now he's with me all day and night. If there is time, I would like to start putting him in daycare a little at a time so he acclimates to the change.

I am hoping he is in her home before the holidays. Not only because I think it would be wonderful to have their entire family there when it means so much, but also because it will be hard to have him here for his first Christmas, knowing he will be leaving shortly thereafter (I am assuming).
His departure would also open us up for a possible sibling ADOPTIVE placement. As it stands, we are licensed for 2 children. This means we only have one opening for a possible adoptive placement. We were going to amend our license in January to three children if we knew he would be going to a relative. We have a higher chance with an adoptive home for two.

So we are sad, but trying to enjoy the time we have. I finally got him on a night time routine that is doing the trick. For future reference, he now has a bottle when he starts to get cranky, around 7:30. Then we keep him awake for 10-15 more minutes before giving him a bath. After bath we have quiet time massaging lotion on and getting into our pajamas - which I must say I have always thought babies in footsie pjs is the cutest thing ever. Then it's off to sleep. For 10 hours. TEN HOURS. Straight.
Of course the long sleeps at night mean shorter naps, but mommy loves her nightly rest!
he's also into the exersaucer. Jumping and jumping and, um, jumping! Now when you hold him on your lap he keeps on jumping, which is one of the times it's nice to be a girl without so many fragile things for baby feet to trample (0:

Now we wait and see. I'll try to update more as we go.....

And almost forgot! I found a mommy playgroup in the area and will be meeting them on Thursday at the park. While I am happy to have found a possible big people connection, I find myself dreading it as well. I hate feeling like I HAVE to make new friends. Have I mentioned I don't like people?? Should be interesting!

What's next?

I've been batting around going back to work, at least part time. not full time, because I just don't want to! But something a few days a week so I don't forget how to put make-up on, or shower, or wear something other then pajamas.

I had to go to my old office to pick up some files. I have 2 trials coming up and need to prep for testimony, so I contacted a co-worker and asked if she or anyone wanted to go to lunch. Hubs was telecommuting and able to take care of Aidan for a few hours, so off I went.
When I arrived, I was greeted by the usual "what are you doing here?" and "where's the baby?". I've had to go by the office twice since taking him in and the girls think he's cute.

I found out that there's some need for a case aide. Short version, this position is below my old one, pays crap, entails transporting kids and supervising visits. I thought maybe, just maybe, that could be fun if they'd take me. I'd be back with all my old cohorts, I'd know what I was doing, not as much responsibility as a case manager..... hmmmmmmm.

At lunch, friend and friend and I started talking about work (go figure) and the negativity kept mounting and mounting and mounting until I felt like I ordered it for lunch as a side to my burrito. Not only was I reminded of how political and bad things had gotten, at the end of the conversation the same friend who said my coming in as a case aide would be fun said "don't do it. Stay away".

I then thought about the holidays right around the corner, and how much I will enjoy the time off to see friends and relatives and shop and have company.

So I'm back at square one.

I invited my other mommy friends out for lunch and bowling this Sunday. It's my birthday on Friday, but it's not really for that. My SIL will be here from San Fran, and I thought it would be fun just to get the girls together. We don't really party much anymore, so maybe the tired and weary mommies can do something lighter, like a margarita with lunch.
I then proposed it become a monthly thing, the first Sunday of each month.
thus far I have 3 takers and we'll see where it goes from there. I could have one taker and my ass would still be heading for the door every month!!!

For now I look forward to SIL being here for five day, then MIL coming for a weekend. I look forward to going to court with the other big people and putting on high heels. I may even do something with my hair other then putting it up in a clip! I look forward to our first Christmas with a midget in the house, seeing his little face light up when he looks at the tree. And then the disappointment when I yell NNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOO when he tries to touch it (0:

the monotony has set in. hard. core.

I am likening this to post-par tum depression. I have heard a lot of IFers go through this. It is a naturally occurring phenomenon, happening when one wishes and tries and may even bargain with the devil for one or more desires. When they are fulfilled, all that energy implodes, causing massive hemorrhage to the emotional system.

Couple this with leaving your job and being home alone ALL THE TIME.

BANG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And I know the opposing argument, that there are many a person saying to themselves "I would love to be able to stay at home with a baby!". My response, try it and get back to me.

It is difficult having such little interaction. I speak with some friends on the phone, but really appear to have fallen off the radar. We don't go out all that often because it's hot, and the baby naps every 2 hours and eats every 3. Changes in the schedule could (and have) lead to being awakened multiple times at night, thus rendering the decision to go out in the first place questionable. So it's me, the dog, and the baby.

Hubs was out of the country for two weeks right off the bat. Alone alone alone.
There was a 6.5 hour trip to the ER when baby spiked a 104 temp. Of course modern science as it is, they were unable to pinpoint any problems after putting in a catheter for a urine sample, sticking his hands multiple times to draw blood, and putting him in a tube contraption for a chest x-ray. All the while multiple snotty nurses seemingly questioning my parenting ability because I did not give the child any Tylenol. Excuse me, but 104 degrees means get your ass in the car and go. So fuck off.

Every morning, I go into the nursery and am greeted by this beautiful smiling face, looking at me with anticipation of a new day. He knows my voice, smiles when he sees me across a room..... I am his mom.

And all is right in the world once again.



But it could be better if I had contact with some big people, too (0:

We have survived week one

We have had the midget for over a week and we're still alive. Or more importantly, he's still alive (0:

I would be lying if I didn't say it's been a transition. Before he arrived, I was sleeping in, going to lunch with friends, working on home projects here and there. Hubs and I went to movies on weekends, or nurseries to check out plants we may want to put in the yard. We had no schedule, no inhibition, no.... luggage!
Now I am up around 6AM. I am up at 2AM, and sometimes 5AM. I have started going to bed by 9PM to get in the sleep my body so eagerly needs, but breaking it up into 4 hour chunks has taken it's toll.
Friday I started feeling ill, with a severe sore throat and a temp. Then the paranoia of what if it's contageous and I'm the primary care taker of a 3 month old??!
Thank god hubs stepped in and took over Fri and Sat nights so that I could try and catch up on my rest, but I still wasn't over it by Monday when he went back to work. Add to this his departure Monday night for 2 weeks out of the country.
Good news is it seems to have passed, bad news it was replaced by horrid cramping. At least I'm certain cramps are not contageous........

Every morning, I am greeted to a big smile. Baby smiles all the time, makes noises and talks. Goes through diapers like nobody's business, and eats his weight in formula - thus earning him the nickname piglette.
He has had 2 visits with his biological mother. I realize it will take some time to see where the case will go. Only details I can post are Mom is a young teenager with problems with her own mother. Dad is older (yes, read into this) and illegal. The whole family is illegal. This is not uncommon in AZ.
Although it sounds bad, I don't care ~ I have to say this bodes well for us.
You have to have a background check completed in order to foster or adopt a child. You have to have a social security number in order to run a background check. You have to be a legal citizen to have a social security number. Follow me here?? If Mom doesn't get it together, our chances are quite good. And that's all I'll say about that.....

But life has definitely changed in one week. No movies, no eating out, no quick trips to the store, or even long ones. My beloved Home Depot seems just out of reach. Our lives rotate around naps, feedings, diaper changes, and playtime.

And it's wonderful.

It's A Boy!!!!

No sooner did I start painting then the phone rang. 18 month old boy needs a home, are you interested? Um, duh. Bring his little but on over!

Few minutes later................
Sorry, the case manager really needed a home on the other side of town.

Back to Mrs. Poop.

Friday, take my bf to get her wisdom teeth out. Then head to her Mom's house to help care for her and my goddaughter while her Mom packed for the vacation they were leaving for in the wee hours the next day.

Hubs calls and lets me know someone buzzed in while he was on a conference call. Nope, wasn't me. Did you check your cell? No. Could you maybe do that now? OK.
So it was this guy at CPS and he wants you to call him back.
Okey dokey.

We have a 3 month old baby boy. Are you still available?
Sure am.
The case manager will call you in a little while and let you know what time she'll be bringing him over.

Seriously??????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

happy dance happy dance happy dance happy dance happy dance happy dance

And at 4:45PM Friday, I was delivered an adorable 11 week old baby boy. Just like that.

more happy dance more happy dance more happy dance more happy dance

We'll call him baby A. He's got black hair and brown eyes and he smiles all the time! Only cries if he's wet himself or if he's hungry. Coos and plays and smiles some more.
This is bliss. The infertility gods owed me one and they seem to have not forgotten.............

CALL ME MRS. POOP

The wait is killing me.
I am poopy. Depressed. Lonely.
Makes me wonder how much stay at home-ness I can take! Maybe quitting my job wasn't such a good idea after all~

I tried to explain to hubs last night that I am not used to feeling useless. I have no direction, no responsibility, no drive.
Normally, this would be wonderful! But that's only because you know it's short lived and you have to go back to work. Not having anything coming is daunting, for me particularly.
I carried a lot of responsibility at work. My decisions changed lives. I had court and trials and attorneys to explain things to. I had to take charge of the parents and the foster parents and the service providers. I was responsible for the outcomes of my kid's lives. Hell, I was actually their legal guardian!

And now, nothing.

And worst of all, it's depressing to think that 6+ years have gotten me no where. I honestly thought that time and those connections would pay off somehow, giving me an 'in' to getting the right kids. Hell, ANY kids. That is a solid smack in the face.

So these days I'm home alone, except for the puppy, waiting. My pajamas are getting extra wear, pup getting lots of attention, e-mails galore going out for a shred of adult contact during my day. I carry the cell phone and the home phone with me at all times *just in case*.

And in my mind of minds I know it will happen when it should, but I can't help but be drawn back to remembering that was my same thought process when doing IVF, which failed. Twice.
So call me poop of the week, because I so totally am right now.

I am going to start painting the upstairs becase you know what they say, things tend to happen at the most inconvenient times~

***UPDATE****
OK. To add to the poopness I have been checking in the blogs to see how everyone is doing and it seems like all these people are preggers! Congrats to them, very seriously. We all know what a struggle it is getting there and the absolute bliss that it is when successful.
I do not begrudge them one iota, I am just feeling even more sorry for myself.
And if you are STILL reading this you are a glutton for punishment, too, and I hope I have not depressed you, oh innocent reader.

the call

WE ARE LICENSED!!!

Can I get a holy shit?

I am still not finished with the toddler room, although I got off my ass today and started in on some of it.
Haven't painted the upstairs.
Haven't hung the other curtain in the living room.
Haven't painted my bathroom.
Haven't moved the gazillion photo frames from the wall unit (well within midget reach).

Haven't jumped up and down and screamed like I just did since I found out I was going to meet my biological dad.

Now the lingering question is how many? If we foster 2 then we're full for our age group 0-3. Meaning if a baby comes up for adoption we're SOL. And there's no guarantee the foster kids will end-up free for adoption, so there's the risk. Too too too too much to comprehend.....

I'm going to be a mommy!!!

I ain't got a job. I ain't go no money. I ain't got no real responsibility!

I am officially unemployed. As of midnight Friday, I have no earned income. Nada. Nothin'. We are a single earning family of two.

And I am COMPLETELY FREAKED OUT!!!!

I have been killing myself (and my supervisor) getting it all done. Staying most days the last week until 9:00PM. Friday we finally left around 11:15PM, punch drunk and amazed. I refused to leave anything undone. At the same time, if I was not such a damn procrastinator it would never have come to this. So while my super tells me I kick ass for sticking it out and getting it all in, I know in the back of my tired little mind if I'd kept up with it all along we wouldn't be here. Oh well. Although I still fully believe my best work comes out during those last moments!

I have to go back for a court hearing on Wednesday, then a couple of upcoming severance trials. One already set in September, the other TBD. So I'm not entirely out, just mostly. And I won't get paid for anything past Friday. Pisser indeed.

We completed our adoption scrapbook online. I wanted to do it the old fashioned way, but hubby voiced reason and reminded me how totally detailed and anal I am. I started working on our wedding album about a year ago and was clocking about 3-4 hours per page. I had planned on making this album more simple, but he knows me too well.
Completed the album in no time on Pickaboo. It's cute, and if I do say so myself (which I obviously do) funny! I used to look at them all the time, and they were all so similar. Pictures of all the relatives with their names, house pictures, the little park down the street, family pets. But few of them had real character. I decided to risk it and make it funny.
If anyone's interested, I may be convinced to divulge the site information. And this will be a BIG step since no one in the blogland knows what the princess looks like (0:

Now we wait, as freakin usual. Our licensing worker is an idiot. He looses this, forgets that, and then goes on vacation right in the middle of it all. Finally got the adoption certification in and reports we should be done with that in a week. But still dicking around with the foster license. HELLO. That's the whole reason I quit my job dillhole! But really, what's the point in getting upset. It hasn't made a difference thus far, so I've had to just let it roll.

Now that I'm a stay at home mom wanna be, I'l be trying to bust out as many projects as i can. I have a lot of flat paint to cover in this house before little sticky hands are about. There's a lot I'd like to do, but too much time and too little money are not a good mix. I will find myself enjoying the FREEdom of catching up on the blog peeps, maybe trying to add to the list with some current foster parents. Any suggestions?

tick tock

Ever hear the clock in your head? Several countdowns happening in this girl's nogin~

First off, 2 weeks left at work. 2. weeks. 2. TWO.
How did that happen?
When I started at CPS it was to get some experience, make some connections, a stepping stone. 7 years later. Can't wrap my mind around it all the time. I love my job. I hate my job. Some days I look at how much I have to do to pass my cases along and wish I wasn't such a procrastinator. Mostly, I pray whomever gets my cases won't screw them up. I have 2 trials coming up. I will get a subpoena, I will appear in court. But not as the case manager. Strange. Stranger yet that I won't get paid for it!
So as much as I look forward to leaving all the paperwork and bureaucracy and rules and meth heads and sex offenders behind, I will miss my kids. I know that's what it comes down to. My kids. I will really and truly miss my kids. And pray that the person who takes over for me does them justice.

Once that countdown ends, the clock will tick loudly until it is muffled by the sounds of children. And who knows when that will be.
I received a voicemail message from out licensing worker today requesting we go to the office to sign some paperwork so he can submit our home study to the court. Um, you mean the home study we completed almost a month ago and believed was submitted at least 2 weeks ago? Sure. Great. No fucking problem.
Already miffed being on the other side.

And as I bitch the empty adoption photo album silently stares. A book meant to visually represent us, our home, our life. Empty. I opened an new file on the computer, and labeled it Adoption Pics, and then, well, nothing.
I have seen these books while selecting adoptive homes for kids on my own case load. Until now, the full spectrum of what those books meant to their makers eluded me. At my work, a level of separation/neutrality must be maintained. I looked at the books. I measured the scrap booking abilities of their makers. I glanced at the faces smiling back at me. And thought nothing of it.
And now I am faced with the challenge and trying to find a way to make the book jump out at those neutral CPS bitches whom I will rely on to say "Now look at the craftsmanship of this book here!" while they muse over my smiling face and that of my husband.
Ironic, eh.

The noise will continue. Once it's past work, past waiting for kids, then it will chime away for parenting. Waiting to see if I'm any good at it. Waiting to see if the kids have latent issues. Waiting to see if they come out of it all OK. waiting to see if WE come out of it OK.

Thank god it's not a cuckoo clock.

Have you ever felt the weight of your heart ON your chest? This is how I have felt much of today.
Every so often, I am almost overcome by this feeling.
My heart aches.
I remember, I lament, I dwell.


Of all the things I would seek therapy for, this is it. My inability to completely let things go ~ old matters of the heart.
I think about old boyfriends and wonder where they are. I contemplate how I would find them to ask. I daydream about what life would have been like if we had stayed together.
Much of this is focused on my boyfriend that died when I was 18. Shawn. We had broken up and were not speaking. I had gone to his house one night, flirting with reconciliation, only to be in the car -thinking- when another car pulled up with another girl in it. She went into the house, I did not.
We went to community college together, shared several classes. After that moment in the car in his driveway, I knew it was over.

There was one day he was sitting at a table within sight of my friend and I in the MU. He looked unhappy, like something had happened. I was worried, but unwilling to break our uncomfortable silence, thus I sent my friend to ask him what was wrong. He told her things were not so great, but did not elaborate.
I would later find out that girl that went into his house came out pregnant.

He died only 2 weeks after that. Skateboarding and hit a rock. No helmet. Brain damage, on life support to donate his organs, which were wonderfully passed along to those in need. I will never forget that phone call from his mother. I will never forget the support his friend gave me, even though we were no longer together. I cannot forget, even if I tried.

It was a hard pill to swallow. I loved him, even though he was a jerk. I often have to remind myself to stop making him out to be something he was not, turning him into some kind of saint in death.
But this is only one of those I often wonder about. The biggest. The ache that will never subside, the words never spoken. No true closure. There are others, who have taken pieces of my heart; the holes they left that ache like today.

I believe Shawn's death sparked my problem. Now I am always looking back, wondering. Was there something more. Did I hurt someone. Do they still love me.
I suppose I must need to believe that they have kept those pieces of my heart with them, that they were not taken away for nothing. That they still have some kind of meaning for the holder.

I read a quote once that said "I go to my death not regretting the things I did, but the things I did not do". I don't remember who said it, and usually do not remember quotes at all. But this rings in my head during these times of remembrance.........

I do not really believe in regret and have gone out of my way to commit to my decisions fully. I know each of my lost loves and relationships were for one reason or another, most ended by me, also for a reason.

And yet, days like this when I pass that community college, with such a heavy chest I labor to breathe, I cry.

Back from Mexico and had a fabulous time!! I've got a tan, hoping some great pictures, and great news, but one thing at a time.

The trip started horribly. We missed our flight. I live in AZ, where we don't always remember going to Mexico is an international flight. Until recently, you didn't even need a passport! So when we finally got parked and finally picked up by the bus and finally dropped off at the terminal and finally walked the entire length of the terminal to get to the right counter and finally got to the counter after waiting in line, we were 6 minutes past the cut-off. 6 f-in minutes. So after all that, we had to reverse it all, go home, and wait to do it all again the next day.
We tried to make the most of it, hanging in the pool, lounging around, went to see Spidey movie (not all that great in my opinion). But it initially appeared the vacation gods were against us.

Success the following day, then karma jumping in our favor by providing a wonderful vacation with not a single, solitary problem.
Hotel was wonderful. Luna Blue in Playa del Carmen if you're ever heading that way is great.
Diving was AMAZING. Saw a ton of turtles, fish, rays, coral, the works. Hoping to god some of the pictures we took with these disposable cameras come out. Visibility was great, so there is hope!!
Also dove the cenotes. I'm not all high tech, or low tech even, so I can't put a link here to some fact filled web site. So the Reader's Digest version is this:
There are a charted 350 miles of underground rivers and cave systems in this area of Mexico called the cenotes. The Mayans built their civilizations around them, as well as their roads from town to town. They were caves until the ice age ended, then flooded them with fresh water.
Being in them is like being in outer space. Mostly dark, caves, with stalagmites and stalactites everywhere. Where there are openings, you find these amazing colors of blue from the rays of light. It's like nothing I've ever seen before, and most people will never see. An estimated 15% of the population are certified divers, then a mere 5% active. only .10% of that 5% ever get to dive the cenotes.

So yes, I am totally cool. (0:

Visited the ruins, snorkeled with the turtles, watched a barracuda eating silver fish (scary as hell but entrancing), climbed the tallest known Mayan temple, drank lots of Sol (beer), and ate ate ate.
Bliss.

Now for the REALLY AMAZING NEWS.
Are you ready?

I'm going to be an Auntie!!!

Deciding to call to check on our dog, I elected to also check my e-mail. Just to see if there was anything happening or if anyone missed me.
I received an e-mail from my sister in law announcing they have been selected to adopt a little girl from China. They will travel in about 6 months to bring her back to their home in Portland.
How freaking exciting!!!

I know she's beside herself, having wanted this so badly. I also know the next 6 months are going to be excruciating, the minutes ticking by.
And, of course, her husband in there, too! How easily we, or I, tend to think only of the woman in this such situation!

Anyway, great vacation and great news. Very exciting couple of weeks.
I'm still off until Tuesday, doing laundry and home stuff. Very mundane but necessary. No complaining from me!

I'll be catching up on blogs while I'm at it, leaving my 2 cents, sometimes 2 bucks, here and there...............

It's been a month??

Could it really have been a month since my last post? I guess there are more times then not I feel I haven't much to say, so why bother? The few people who do read my blog most likely don't have the time or the patience to read 'dear diary' entries, which leads me to not posting for an entire month~ The latest it much more interesting, so now I have something to write about.

We completed both of our home studies and classes. Now it all gets submitted, approved, and we're open for business!

I submitted my resignation and my last day is 6-22. I have extremely mixed feelings. On the one hand, I am excited to become a full time parent. It will be nice to wear pajamas all day long if I want to, not having to worry so much about clients and court and appointments.

On the other hand, I don't know how to leave work behind. As stressful as my job is, I'm good at it. I like it for the most part. I'm already starting to miss it and it's still a month away from waving good-bye.

We went to Florida last week and visited with my father-in-law and his wife. It was a lot of fun and we saw about as much of Tampa Bay as you possibly could in 4 days. We went diving in fresh water springs, snorkeling with manatees, layed on a beach and burned my whiteness, drove up and down the coast checking out how the other half lives, and got eaten by mosquitos. I would love Florida if it weren't for those damn buggers!

While I was there, my co-worker was covering a hearing for me. I realized just how hard it will be to leave my work when I gave in and e-mailed her to see what happened at court. I'm on vacation. In Florida. Checking on work. So so sad.....

Working my ass off getting everything done possible. Going in at 8AM, leaving at 7PM. Yet somehow I'm energized. Procrastination is my name and cramming is my game! Got some crackers to go with that cheese??

Monday we leave for Mexico for almost 2 weeks. Playa del Carmen. Have lots of dives planned and the rest we'll fill in. No phone. No computer. No TV. Say what?? What are we going to do at night with no tv? Talk? Ewwwww.

Here's some pictures of the nursery. I haven't started on the toddler room, which will be a fish theme. Couldn't decide on paint colors (for those of you who have been following along this is a major issue for me). Have decided on blue, green, and leftover yellow. There's still time.

The top picture is the border. I used acrylic paint and some foam stamps I already had. It's a fro/bug theme in there. Turned out pretty cute! Made the BABY shadow boxes with cheap frames from IKEA, gingham fabric from Joanne, painted wood letters (same paint as on the walls), and some butterfly and dragonfly ornaments I bought on close out a year ago. Walls are light yellow and Haystack green.

I'll put up some pictures from Mexico when I get back.

Oh, yeah. Almost forgot to include the fertility update!

I went to the dr and (drum roll paleez) "Let's try putting you on birth control".

SHUT. UP.

Been there, done that. No thank you. Makes me ill, doesn't work. Still have 2 week periods every 3 weeks, only on the pill I PMS and get nausea. What's behind door #2?

Ovarian stimulant. Um, tried that, too. We have a new one. Great. Sign me up. Who cares anymore. Do I shoot it? Stick it? Inject it? Shove it into dark places? It's just a pill you start on cycle day #1. Now here's the problem, doc. No one knows when exactly that it. Is it when I start spotting, cramping, bloating, bleeding? Cause all this happens 2-3 times and I for one have no idea when day one is in there. Let's do an ultrasound to see where you're at. wonderful.

Door #3 ~ cycts. We're back to Door #1, come back to see if they're gone, then Door #2.

Pill for a month, yucky but tolerable. Cysts gone - yeay! Going to Mexico and not keen on trying a new medication while in another country - boo. One more month of the pill. ok.

Then I got an ear infection. Antibiotics don't mix with the pill.

So now nothing. Let's hope Aunt Flo doesn't crash my vacation. Or if she's gonna, can she at least pack light and stay the normal 5 days??

Guess we'll see. Hope everyone is well in their adventures and such. I'm too tired now, but will check in to see how everyone is doing when I get back in 2 weeks.

Adios!!

I am often reminded when reading other blogs about IF how annoying it all can be. The world is a difficult enough place to maneuver for a smart mouth like me ~ it's hard to TRY and be politically correct all the time. I call people crack hoe and make jokes about someone riding the short bus to work today. I'm sure I offend. My own husband sometimes looks at me like I've completely lost my mind. I'm more or less ok with that. Sure, there's room for improvement, but who are we kidding? If anyone truly believes 15 or so years of building up this demeanor is going to eradicate itself with one scornfull evil eye, well, keep on keepin on.

And I'm Irish. So there.

My point being that IF causes even more introspection then usual. We have to pretend to be happy when we're not. Even at the most obvious of should be happy moments - someone else's pregnancy. Hell, it's commonly referred to as THE GOOD NEWS. Not so much for us. Failed cycles falling on your birthday. Do you think this is cause for celebration? Would anyone want bad news followed by a ceremonious blowing out of candles and singing? Doubtful.

My 2 best friends were pregnant around the same time. Pisser. Total and udder mental strain and chaos. My usual open mouth was causing my brain to work double duty to keep shut. It took so much energy flowing to that oraface it forgot to send the memo to my eyeballs to stay dry. I was relatively quiet but crying all the damn time.

This does not mean I wasn't happy for my friends. I was. Not thrilled or anything, but happy because they were happy. They were in good places in their lives to have children and a family and all that happy shit. I wanted that happy shit first, WAY before they did, so not thrilled indeed.

Then you add the "are you doing ok" comments from my mother, husband, other friends, even these friends. How do you answer that? I mean, really? Nothing that you say will be both the truth and socially acceptable, even to your closest friends. So you dodge dodge dodge, then you're a bad friend for not reveling in their happiness or confiding your inner frustrations.

Here's my revenge. When we do foster care, I am going to go on and on and on and on about every freaking thing, especially the system. I figure if I had to hear about all their pregnancy stuff (you know, the things I couldn't possibly understand b/c I haven't experienced them) then I am going to make sure they hear about the foster care and CPS stuff.

This may seem silly, ok I know it IS silly without thought, but it's all I've got at the moment. I'm tired of talking about my dog all the time, so at least it's something different, right??

Now I know at least 2 of my friends read this off and on, so let me make it crystal clear I do not begrudge your happiness or experiences or babies in any way. This is simply my rant and rave that shit isn't fair and I'm going to have a little blog tantrum now and again.

And just to keep this from being a total rant, here's a couple of cakes I made. I was debating posting a picture of myself, but chickenend out and threw these up instead!

painting and such nonsense

The nursery is finally painted. A pale cream yellow and green. And today we finally had our blinds installed, white wood, so the room is starting to look like it has a purpose. The little crib looks lost in the room without any other furniture, but I know I'll get there. I'm just picky and anal about everything matching. Not matching like the entire bathroom collection matching, but an oak crib needs an oak dresser matching. I am fully aware this will take some time.
But it's started!
I find myself getting more excited as the days pass. I cannot wait to leave my job, although I know I will miss it. I will miss my work friends. I will miss the kids on my case load. I will miss the frightening way I find humor in things that aren't that funny. I will miss cursing a lot. After awhile, I'm sure I'll miss the purpose of it all, the responsibility of court, the control I have.

At my home visits, I am finding I spend more time asking about the day to day activities of the home. Trying to get a better idea of what I'm in for, what the system is like from the other side. I can honestly say the picture is not so pretty. Knowing so much could easily backfire. I already pity the case manager who places a child in my home. Especially if they are new.

Not much else happening. We go to CPR training tonight and half of our licensing class will most likely be there as well. We have one class to make-up next month, then we're finished with that part. We both have to go to the dr to get approved physically, a few odds and ends ppwk to wrap up.
My shower is next month and I'm looking forward to it. I'm more into giving then getting, so parties on my behalf make me uncomfortable. I don't like opening presents in front of others, but I know how much I enjoy seeing my friend's expressions when they open my gifts to them, and I'll keep that in mind now that the table is turned. And I really really hope I get a baby b/c I am going to have a crapload of stuff! If a 3 year old walks in here they will be really bored...

I finally made an appointment with the fertility doc. It's for April fools. I have already decided I'm going to walk in and tell him I'm pregnant with quads and plan to sue.

Girl's Night Update

PROLOGUE:
There were 3 of us.... SIL, friend, me. I booked a hotel room close to the dance club I found online. I was excited to go to it because it appeared to be more alternative, which I like better then the techno crap we usually find.

CHAPTER ONE: We arrive at the hotel. Shithole. I fully expected to run into someone on my caseload. Extended stay. Should have been my first clue, but when on a budget and going for convenience, caution is thrown by the wayside. Oh well, we all say. None of us really care and it does add an element of interest we would not generally find at any ol' Motel 6.

CHAPTER TWO: We get ready. I am a fan of glamming it up a bit when I go out. Glitter-good. Jewelry-good. Cleavage-good. Lots and lots of make-up-good. Nails painted dark purple. Sparkle applied to face and the girls. Jewelry added for good measure.

CHAPTER THREE: We walk to the club. Not sure if we're going the right way b/c my dumb ass left the directions at home. We think we spot it. No.
THIS can not be it.
THIS is a hole in the wall next door to a Circle K.
Nuh uh.
THIS was it.

CHAPTER FOUR: I have entered the alternative mecca. Chics with black hair, short bangs, knee socks. Dudes with spiked hair, wallet chains, spiked denim jackets. The aroma of clove cigarettes, B.O. I look ridiculous. I feel ridiculous. I need some drinks.

CHAPTER FIVE: Discussion held, stay or go. Issue with going is the walk back to hotel, then having to drive to another part of town, then driving back. Plus it's already almost 12 so we've got 2 hours. Decide to drink and think. We stay. We drink. We dance. We no longer give a shit if we fit in. We have a good time.

CHAPTER SIX: We spend the night in the hole. Shooting the shit until 4AM, then tossing and turning, squinting against the light coming in the single window, trying to eek out a bit of sleep.

POST: All in a sad state, some more then others
(you know who you are).
But a fun night. And although I have learned to put up pictures, none of them will be posted to protect the identities of three drunk chics, myself included.

St. Patrick's Day

As many of you know, the 17th is St. Patrick's Day. This is a serious holiday in my family. My father is first generation American, the rest of his family directly from the island.
My husband and I visited Ireland a few years ago. It was wonderful to meet some of my relatives and see where my father came from. We even visited the family home, where 3 generations were born.
Every year, I make corned beef, cabbage, and potatoes. Sometimes I whip up a loaf of Irish soda bread (usually just buy the damn thing at the store b/c while I CAN cook, I CANNOT bake).
This year will be different. My SIL is coming from San Fran for a girl weekend. She and I and one of my other friends will be going out dancing. I've rented a hotel room across the street from the club in preperation for a very jumbled walk back!
Girl's night is the time to dress like a diva, wear glitter, get our drink on, and pretend we're hot, young, single bitches again. Occasionally, we designate someone as the bachelorette and shamelesly solicit drinks all night! It's good clean mischief I suppose. We always have fun.


This is Veto, doing what I so lovingly refer to as his hooker pose. He's bigger then this now, but still finds the time to make sure he positions himself in such a way that everyone who enters the room knows if he's a boy or a girl.............

This is Veto playing with our friend's dog, Che Che. They are like brother and sister, always agrivating one another. They snarl and look ferocious, all the

while tails a wagging. I LOVE this picture

b/c they look absolutely insane.

But here's the reality of the two of them~
Can you tell I'm just starting to figure out how to add pictures?

I experienced my first time watching my husband parent. We had our friend's boys over last weekend, Saturday to Sunday night. They are 6 & 8 and pretty good kids. So although it doesn't match directly with what we should expect with 3 and under, it was fun to witness.

I learned my husband is a yes man. Can we watch a movie? Yes. Can I have a fourth helping? Yes. Can we stay up late? Yes.

I learned I am the heavy. Well, ok. I already knew that. I am now referring to myself as the Boundary Queen. Sounds better~

But by Sunday, his yesses were fewer and 'honey what do you think' were more. There is hope yet.

The shower is scheduled and invite list prepared. I haven't gotten any further with the nursery or toddler rooms, although I had the boys working on an art project for the toddler room. Going with a fish theme so I took them to a craft store and we bought a paint by number underwater scene and another you complete with markers. Of course mr 8 year old is not into coloring anymore, so I ended up finishing most of the marker picture myself (which I admit was fun and I am 30 something and still like to color). These pictures will be framed and hung in the fishy room, as they were calling it.

When discussing the fishy room and what it's purpose would be, the boys had such very different viewpoints from which their questions derived. The 6 year old is very focused on other's viewpoints of himself, the more touch feely of the two. He asked if I thought the new babies would like him. He wanted to know if they would be his cousins, and if they would love him. 8 year old wanted to know about what adoption meant, and if we were getting a boy or a girl. If was a frequent discussion over the weekend and it was good talking about it on a child's level. It's sometimes easy to discuss with adults who already know what adoption means, and foster care, and understand we're not sure what's happening next or who will be coming through our door. To break it down to a child's level was much more difficult. It was a premonition of sorts on the conversation we will have with the children we adopt in the future.

I am starting to count down the days until I quit my job. After almost 7 years, I think it's time. I have a case in which I have been the case manager for the mother for 5 1/2 years, since she was removed from her mother's care at the age of 15. She was pregnant at the time and recently had her 4th child at the ripe old age of 20. I have had to remove each of them from her care, 2 of them twice after failed reunifications. Her rights have already been terminated as to her oldest girl, age 4, and she is doing really well in the foster/adopt home she's lived in since birth (with the exception of 3 months in which we tried and failed to reunify with bio-mom).

Things have been going well. I returned her 9 month old in December.
Last Saturday I received a call from the weekend team letting me know mom had her fourth and tested positive for meth. She reports she was stressed out b/c 9month old has been teething and crying all night and keeping her up and she's exhausted. Boyfriend works nights and sleeps all morning, so she feels alone. She took the opportunity to walk down the street, but meth and a pipe, and smoked a bowl and a half. This threw her into labor the following morning and she had a healthy baby girl. The silver lining is the baby tested negative and was not exposed.

So here we are 4 years later back at square one. I am exhausted. I am reminded how tedious this job can be, and no matter how good at it you are, the parents will make their own decisions.

THE SYSTEM

Yesterday we had our first home visit. Our worker, Eric, came over and interviewed us, then took a look around the house.
While talking, we found ourselves discussing THE SYSTEM.
I think every person in every employ has some kind of SYSTEM. And the majority of the time, it stinks. This holds true for us as well.
When asked what stresses me out, my honest response is THE SYSTEM. When I cannot provide the services one of the kids on my case load needs, or it is going to take a long time, or the person or agency assigned to provide said services proves to be incompetent ~ that stresses me out. Not having control over any of that stresses me out. And knowing there's nothing I can do and I shouldn't be so stressed out over it stresses me out.

Moving along, the interview and home tour were painless. Our house is a wreck and we are nowhere near being ready to put a child under this roof, but it is what it is. We have time, and I have patience. Well, some..... I have limits.
Working on purchasing a crib, and received my oh so cute crib bedding from eb++. If you haven't tried it, it's well worth the time you spend searching for what you want. Also worth it is Craigslist, where we are getting all the furniture. Neat little system. And why do I care if the furniture I purchase is new or used? If it's clean and it works, and I'm getting a smoking deal ($150 for an oak crib/convertable toddler bed that was used once) then howdy do for me.

I've been putting off making a dr appt. ~see here's the more serious stuff~ My periods are all over the charts, the biggest issue being my 2 week or so spotting fest before I even get a real period. Now if you do the math, I'm basically only NOT worrying about my period stuff for one week a month. The complete opposite of what should be happening. It seems as though all the doctors pushed this issue under the rug, maybe believing an acheived pregnancy would alleviate the problem and it would go away without having to really address and focus on it. Well we all know how THAT turned out; so here we are back at square one.
I think it would make more sense to go to the IF specialist because he was a reproductive specialist and that's the effected area. And it isn't like I'm not still trying to get pregnant, just not spinning my wheels at something that's not likely to be successful and drains my purse simultaneously.
Why am I putting it off.
I am a total procratinator for one, and then I think I don't know if there's any point. Previous 'cures' were always to put me on the pill. Great. That worked while I was on it (and it made me ill), but I need a reason, not a quick fix. So maybe it's the fear of more disappointment. They won't be able to fix it or even determine the cause. I know it's all so rationalized when you type it out, but it's my SYSTEM that's failing thus far.
I'll get around to it.

It's been raining a lot and our yard is a mud pit. This is not a happy thing when you have a dog and a dog door. Hope it dries out by tomorrow or we're in deep crap. Wednesday's are our class nights and we're usually out from 7AM to 10PM. Too long to lock the pooch in the house, but just enough time for him to get muddy and decide it's a good idea to take a nap on my sofa.

As an update, I am having the baby shower. I could go back and forth in my own mind all day long rationalizing it one way or the other, so F it. I put my two friends in charge and requested there be alcohol served. Lots and lots of alcohol. Because I know that no matter how much I encourage myself to believe I'm over it, I'm not. And I know there will be at least one moment at that shower when that realization creeps in and grabs me by the balls. So between whine or wine, I'll take the white.

Deserve. I hear and use this word a lot. But what does it mean? It's one of those words that gets thrown around, and it's base lies in the eye of the beholder.

1. To earn by service; to be worthy of (something due, either good or evil); to merit; to be entitled to; as, the laborer deserves his wages; a work of value deserves praise.
[1913 Webster]

I realize that I frequently make comments using this word. This person deserves this, that one doesn't. Most commonly in my job stating this mom or that deserves to lose their parental rights to their children. But why?? What gives me the right to make any such judgments? Now granted, at my work I see some pretty horrific things. Neglect, physical abuse, sexual abuse, drug abuse. You name it, I've more then likely had to deal with it on my case load, or had to learn about it in training, or knew about it on someone else's case load. This bombardment of negativity would eventually turn the stomach of Mother Teresa, and Mary Poppins would switch from a spoon full of sugar to a glass full of boos.
The longer I work here, the more I learn that many of these moms and dads had no level ground on which to built their own house of parenting. You are what you know. Many of the drug users are just trying to get by, but the children become collateral as their parents can't even meet their own needs.

So who deserves what? Did these parents deserve better parents? Do they deserve another chance? Do the kids deserve to be severed from their parents and all of their relatives?
Or more simply thought, do people deserve to have bad things happen to them? How do we know someone deserves something when it's a good thing, but not a bad? Maybe I don't deserve to be a parent, maybe I do. Maybe I deserve this job, maybe I don't. Maybe women in Africa deserve to die of AIDS, maybe they don't.

This is where your belief system jumps in. If you believe in karma, God, nothing; those things are all designed to attempt to answer the questions about who deserves what and why. But this doesn't stop the internal need to answer these questions and jump to conclusions ourselves. And what damage does that do? When my friends say 'you deserve to be a mother', my initial response is 'why'? What do you base this belief on? if you look at my history, the risk of my screwing up at parenting is much higher then average. Combined with my tendency to be lazy, not follow through on things, get bored easily, love to sleep, and controlling manner, it's a recipe for chaos and disaster. And you think I deserve to throw a child into that mix? What am I missing here?

But there I am telling someone else they deserve to be a mother, too. And I usually base it on my gut. Except with fellow bloggers, and then god help me if there's any rhyme or reason to my justification! What I've read? What they've commented? Or I don't have anything to base why they don't deserve.

So maybe we should all leave it up to the powers that be.

But my my my wouldn't that be boring~