I've had some questions 'on the side' from some fellow bloggers. I think it stems from some of my long-ass comments on these blogs, and maybe it's a who the f are you based question, maybe a I hadn't thought of that so how come you did based question. Either way, I figured I may as well throw some of the answers out there for anyone interested.
1. I worked for Child Protective Services in AZ for almost 7 years as a case manager. I have no idea how many families and/or children were on my case load overall, but I can tell you 90% of my cases went to severance (parental rights terminated). Majority of the cases were substance abuse and/or mental health. I only had two physical abuse cases, and a spattering of other issues. I loved a lot of 'my kids' and still keep in touch with some of them through their placements to this day, which I'm not supposed to but don't give a shit, they're MY KIDS.
2. I am adopted. From birth through a private agency. My brother is also adopted.
3. I had an abusive parent. Previously, my mom checked in on my blog from time to time so I could not put anything up about this. Even now I pause over the delete button. I worry someone will read this that speaks with her and say something about it and I don't want to deal with that. It's in the past. So if you are that person, maybe skip #3 and go directly to #4~
It was mostly emotional abuse, but physical as well, by my mother.
At one point in my life, I had to set new boundaries with her. Anyone seen the movie Mommy Dearest? That's my childhood. Took me quite a few tries to get through it - the movie. Anyhoo, I had to make a decision to either let go of what happened and get on with it, or cut her out of my life completely. With some strength of will and a few classes, I was able to re-set our relationship and now she's my biggest supporter. Instead, she treats my father like shit. However, when he complains, I remind him that he picked her. I suffered the same crap and didn't even have the option! He shuts up.
4. I have met my biological parents. Well, kind of. It's a long story for another post as it will take time to plot out in order, but the jist is I met my bio-dad (BD) first. We have nothing in common, but made a go of it none the less. Then I found out bio-mom (BM) and he were still in touch. Met her, she's a wacko. Didn't have anything to say to me. Nothing. We talked about weather and sports. I think I've had more personal discussions with people on the bus.
When infertility issues arose, I requested my one bio-cousin (the only good thing to come out of the maternal side, and she's wonderful) to check in to issues. BM told her not to butt it, that I chose to be on my own, that I should ask BD about such issues, but not before getting DNA testing (this is soooooo paraphrased). Questioned BD, who confirmed he may not be BD after all. Could get DNA testing, but it's expensive. On top of that, say he's not, then what? I have a relationship with his sister and brother and cousins and his son, my half-brother. These aren't close relationships, but they exist and I'm thankful for them.
5. I used to say that I couldn't adopt. There is still this little blackness inside me that feels it's continuing some kind of disease or cycle. I felt so detached as a child, wishing I had a 'real' family. It felt disconnected. To not have those bonds, then adopt myself, somehow felt like stretching things even more. OBVIOUSLY I have gotten past this as we are trying to adopt through foster care, but I'd be lying if I said the feeling didn't pass now and again.
We'll leave it at that for now. I hope that answers the questions (you know who you are), but if not I'm a pretty open book. Part of the purpose of this blog is the hopes I can help someone else. If there are any questions about foster care or adoption or anything, feel free to toss them my way. But beware, I am a bit of a cynic (understatement) and may be opinionated. If you're looking for a specific answer, don't ask as I may not provide what you're looking for. If you want honesty, knock yourself out!
And because it is a pretty good story if I do say so myself - which I obviously do - I will write another post on the how I found the egg and sperm donor (BM & BD).
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Don't talk with your mouth full
I never in my wildest dreams imagined those words coming out of my mouth. Much less aimed at a seven month old. However, our eating habits have been taking on new hurdles as of late, the most recent, talking with his mouth full.
I believe he may have discovered normal sounds are much more interesting with a mouth full of, say green bean puree. And really, who cares if making these new funkified noises causes said beans to spray all over the chair, table, clothes, and more importantly, the mamma.
Thank god for oxyclean.
Other milestones include the cutting of a second tooth on the bottom, right next to the first. On a side note regarding this tooth cutting business, those suckers are ridiculously sharp! I have been bitten by children before, but nothing prepared me for the bite from Mr. 3/4 and 1/2 teeth. Razors I tell you! One bite lasting maybe two seconds almost broke the skin on my finger..... but back to the other developments (literally)~
He is scooting all over the place, most often through the kitchen. I believe I mentioned it before but I will again because of it's high importance, you do not feel any dirtier then you do after looking at the front side of a baby who has been crawling around on your tile floor. Add a dog with tons of black hair, unfinished landscaping outside, and general laziness of one stay at home mom to go through the motions of mopping all that floor, and you've got yourself one nasty looking kid.....
He is sitting up on his own, although frequently falls over usually face first.
The dog has grown tired of this thing that takes up all of our attention as acts up. He will lay on you, or in front of you, to block you from that drooling thing who has taken his place as the most important member of the family. He will paw at the baby wanting to play. I mean, it's only fair since he grabbed my tail first and tried to bite my leg, isn't it??
He will crawl to you if you motion and say 'come here', which we both laugh at because we sound like we're calling the dog. Here again, we fully realize much of the dog's anxiety can be linked directly back to us and our verbiage. Key words like 'come here', 'out', and 'food', used to be aimed at four legged. Now they are used to get baby to crawl, see if he wants out of the exersaucer, or invite him to breakfast or lunch.
Poor puppy.
I have completed two scrapbook pages for him, both taking wayyyyyyyy too much time. I need to be a little less anal when it comes to the projects, especially those I will never see again like the boy's scrapbook.
He continues to visit with his grandmother at the CPS offfice while she gets herself back together at the rental home her insurance company reportedly set her up in. The CM needs to check out the home so visits can take place there, but by that time I think the visits will be mute and the boy will move for good.
In all honesty, I try to talk about him leaving as much as possible to others as a way to continually remind myself the great loss I am about to suffer. We are about to suffer. My husband will be just as upset, ok, maybe not equally as devastated as me because I am with him all the time but this is just my opinion..... My parents are attached and even our friend's kids. It will be hard. But it's been wonderful, too, having this beautiful boy in our lives. There are days I wish he'd been ugly, or a cry baby, or never smiled. Then it might be easier.
I believe he may have discovered normal sounds are much more interesting with a mouth full of, say green bean puree. And really, who cares if making these new funkified noises causes said beans to spray all over the chair, table, clothes, and more importantly, the mamma.
Thank god for oxyclean.
Other milestones include the cutting of a second tooth on the bottom, right next to the first. On a side note regarding this tooth cutting business, those suckers are ridiculously sharp! I have been bitten by children before, but nothing prepared me for the bite from Mr. 3/4 and 1/2 teeth. Razors I tell you! One bite lasting maybe two seconds almost broke the skin on my finger..... but back to the other developments (literally)~
He is scooting all over the place, most often through the kitchen. I believe I mentioned it before but I will again because of it's high importance, you do not feel any dirtier then you do after looking at the front side of a baby who has been crawling around on your tile floor. Add a dog with tons of black hair, unfinished landscaping outside, and general laziness of one stay at home mom to go through the motions of mopping all that floor, and you've got yourself one nasty looking kid.....
He is sitting up on his own, although frequently falls over usually face first.
The dog has grown tired of this thing that takes up all of our attention as acts up. He will lay on you, or in front of you, to block you from that drooling thing who has taken his place as the most important member of the family. He will paw at the baby wanting to play. I mean, it's only fair since he grabbed my tail first and tried to bite my leg, isn't it??
He will crawl to you if you motion and say 'come here', which we both laugh at because we sound like we're calling the dog. Here again, we fully realize much of the dog's anxiety can be linked directly back to us and our verbiage. Key words like 'come here', 'out', and 'food', used to be aimed at four legged. Now they are used to get baby to crawl, see if he wants out of the exersaucer, or invite him to breakfast or lunch.
Poor puppy.
I have completed two scrapbook pages for him, both taking wayyyyyyyy too much time. I need to be a little less anal when it comes to the projects, especially those I will never see again like the boy's scrapbook.
He continues to visit with his grandmother at the CPS offfice while she gets herself back together at the rental home her insurance company reportedly set her up in. The CM needs to check out the home so visits can take place there, but by that time I think the visits will be mute and the boy will move for good.
In all honesty, I try to talk about him leaving as much as possible to others as a way to continually remind myself the great loss I am about to suffer. We are about to suffer. My husband will be just as upset, ok, maybe not equally as devastated as me because I am with him all the time but this is just my opinion..... My parents are attached and even our friend's kids. It will be hard. But it's been wonderful, too, having this beautiful boy in our lives. There are days I wish he'd been ugly, or a cry baby, or never smiled. Then it might be easier.
Saturday, December 29, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, December 21, 2007
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.
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.
Thursday, December 06, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, November 30, 2007
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.
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.
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.
Monday, November 12, 2007
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.
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.
Sunday, November 04, 2007
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 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.
Monday, October 29, 2007
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
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.
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.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
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!
-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!
Thursday, September 13, 2007
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:
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:
Saturday, September 01, 2007
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:
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:
Thursday, August 16, 2007
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.
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.
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
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.............
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.............
Thursday, August 02, 2007
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.
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.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
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!!!
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!!!
Sunday, July 15, 2007
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?
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?
Monday, June 11, 2007
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.
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.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
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.
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.
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