Aduladi' & Co.

Adoption in the Digital Age

2011-08-08T13:05:00.005-04:00

Four score and seven years ago... okay, maybe just even a score ago, adoption did not have quite as many challenges as it does today. "What?!", you ask. Shouldn't it be easier now that we are in an age of instant access to information? At the tip of your fingertips lies a million opportunities and endless amounts of information. Yep. So, let me tell you where my dilemma lies and then you can tell me your thoughts. Because I want to hear them.

My brain and my heart are at an impasse.

Two of my kiddos are adopted. We adopted them after fostering them through our county agency. As they were foster children first, we know their families; having dealt with them during the process of possible reunification, and have somewhat of a relationship with various family members (older siblings, aunts, etc.). Their birth mothers are not raising them for very valid reasons. Therefore, we are not exactly meeting up for dinner, or the like.

Our state does not recognize, "open adoption" legally. As parents we have the right to share anything we want with birth parents, but we also have the right to do nothing. Even if we had agreed to share photos (we did not), the Commonwealth would not enforce it nor compel us to honor our word.

There are several of the boys' relatives that I really like. Older siblings, young aunts, and others, who had no control nor ability to offer respite to the boys before they went into foster care. The fact that the boys went into foster care and later were adopted, distressed them. They have been cordial to us and have tried to maintain somewhat of a relationship, even though none of us really know the protocol of a situation that ideally, should have never been necessary. But it was necessary, and hence my dilemma.

I love my boys. Adore them. I love them as much as my biological children, with that fierce, loyal, complete, "Momma Bear Love", that only a mother can understand. I am also quite protective of them, and probably a little more so because of their life circumstances before adoption.

I have shared pictures with their biological families before, only to have those pictures wind up on Facebook and MySpace. It enraged me. That may seem a bit of an overreaction, but it really upset me, as none of those who posted the pictures had bothered to ask me. The "Momma Bear". A couple even just copied them off of my Facebook page (I have since changed their access to photos) and added them as their own. So I stopped sending the relatives electronic pictures. One of them took pictures of the hard copies I sent and posted them on MySpace anyway. I have not sent any more, but she has been asking for them.

I have never approached these relatives with my displeasure. It is an awkward conversation to even envision. These are MY sons. I have the court documents and years of raising them to prove it. I have an obligation to protect them and their stories. Unlike my family and friends who are interested in the lives and photos of my children because they not only love them, but because they are a part of a bigger Mr. Clean family entity, the boys' biological relatives seem to only have interest in the life that isn't. The part of the boys' lives that were irrevocably changed when they joined our family.

None of us really have any control over our lives. We have choices to make and reactions to circumstances to decide, but even then, until we are at an age that we can recognize this fact, someone else has to guide us along. When you adopt a child, there is an added history to manage. One you had no part in and one your child may or may not want a part of when they come to an age to understand it. Because of that, I feel like I need to protect them a bit more. I do not want their pictures plastered all over the internet without my consent. I freely share pictures of my children, but I chose the circumstances. I decide for all of them what is seen and who can see it, until they are old enough to make that decision on their own. By others doing that without me knowing, I think they are stepping over the line. I do not care if they share DNA or not.

This may sound harsh. It sounds harsh to me, even though I have read it, re-read it, and even edited it in various ways. There is no way I have been able to open my heart in this post to show you what I am feeling and thinking, because it comes from a place that is indescribable. A mother's heart.

We no longer live in an age when school pictures sent to far off relatives (or biological families) wind up on the fridge for a season, then into a drawer or old photo album. Or even the trash. The digital age has taught us that photos now live forever and can be duplicated and sent to millions in an instant. It makes one feel a tad vulnerable to think about your child's image being shared without your knowledge. Even if it is without an ounce of malice.

My boys will one day have to sort out their own feelings about being adopted, their biological parents and siblings, and if they want to delve into that part of themselves. It almost feels like a betrayal to them if I share everything about them with a family they do not know now and may not want to know in the future. Maybe they will, and we will certainly encourage that, but until that time I feel it is my job to protect them. There is a big difference in having your annual school picture up on Great Aunt Tilly's fridge, and special shared family moments being copied and pasted onto someone else's social network site. A huge difference.

My head wants to share these moments with the boys' biological families. My heart wants to protect them and save them until my boys can consent to sharing them themselves.

It's The Most Horrible Time of the Year...

2011-04-12T11:19:00.000-04:00

I know what you are thinking. After all, THAT day in April is upon us and we have to deal with Uncle Sam and his Band of Merry Men. But no, I am not referring to Tax Day.

A day or two ago a package arrived in the mail. My girls were positively giddy, and I wanted to throw up. It was safe enough looking. An innocent package, gray with dark lettering. It was a Land's End package. And it contained bathing suits.

Now lest you think we are extravagant people, I will just say for the record, the reason my girls were so, "over the moon" is because their bathing suits usually come from exotic places like Sam's Club, in between the dog food and the bananas, or Target, my second home. But this year I wanted a more modest option for my chiquitas and I saw a really cute suit at Land's End that fit the bill.

The top of the suit for the girls. I bought matching swim shorts as well. They look adorable!

The suits were not that pricey and I loved them. A friend had bought a similar one for her daughter and I loved that it came with shorts. No more "yanking" when the girls come out of the pool. A bit more coverage would help my growing girls as well.

My bathing suit was one I bought a couple years ago and is now too big. Plus, it is a bit worn out from a couple years of daily treks to the local pool, and sadly misshapen. It is a bit embarrassing. So, I took the plunge and ordered one along side the girls' suits.

Now, although bathing suit shopping is certainly more private when you do it at home, it is no less terror inducing when you have to try on the blasted thing. It was time to pay the piper.

I avoided the inevitable by joining the girls in their happy dance over THEIR new suits. They excitedly tried them on and they looked perfect. Of course. On the first try. My youngest is a petite thing and at seven years old she fit into a size 5 bathing suit. A five. I come no where close to that number; girl's size, ladies' size or otherwise. My suit lay waiting at the bottom of the Land's End package like a snake in a pit, poised to strike. I carried the offending thing up to my room and locked the door. And then installed a deadbolt and infrared sensors, lest anyone come within 20 yards of my bedroom and witness the stand off between me and the suit.

I pulled the pretty, innocent, thing out of the bag and looked at it. It was a nice suit, maybe it would be kind. Because I have a long torso and am taller (not "freakishly" tall, but tall nonetheless),

I chose a two piece (like a tankini). It was time. I could only stare at it for so long. I took the plunge. And then laughed hysterically. Not the kind of laughter that is a form of relief from a stressful situation, but the kind you may hear, say... in a mental institution. Which may be where they find me if I do not find a new suit soon. Needless to say, the Land's End suit got stuffed, no rammed, back into the bag. It will not be making the rounds at my pool this summer. At lease not on this gal.

It is back to the drawing board and back to searching, browsing and scouring the web for that perfect suit. So if you see me in a suit like this one...

...and muttering to myself in between bursts of hysterical laughter, it may be best to stay on the opposite side of the pool.

Mr. Clean is Harassing Me...

2011-03-20T00:53:00.001-04:00

Okay, so maybe that title is a bit overstating things. A bit. Just a little bit. For the past few years Mr. Clean has requested a family portrait. You know the kind. You get all scrubbed up, put on matching white shirts and trendy jeans, haul the family to some place in the mall and smile, BIG, even thought you want to punch the photographer for saying stupid things, like... "Say Pumpernickel! Everyone, say pumpernickel!" I would rather have a mammogram.

I am not sure what has turned me off of the business side of a camera. I love taking pictures, and seeing pictures, and admiring other people's family portraits, but the thought of my own stops me in my tracks. Probably because I have seen pictures of myself and I usually look like I want to bite someone's head off, or I pour on the cheese. Mega cheese. And now that I am 30 something, cheese is no longer endearing. Nor is looking like my great grandmother in pictures from the old country. Back when you had to wait a hour and a half for the shutter and looked like you were seriously ready to punch the photographer. He probably said something stupid too, like, "Cha toir a’bhòidhchead goil air a’ phoit." You know, the classic goofy mall photographer lingo.

Recently my sister-in-law had the complete gall to send us gorgeous photos of her family, taken professionally. None of them looked like they wanted to hurt someone. Their photographer was probably mute. Lucky ones. But after seeing them, guess who started talking about the lack of family photos in his house. Uh-huh. Mr. Clean. The big whiner.

It made me panic for a minute, as thoughts of me reigning in five kids under hot lights, as my handsome hubby sits looking quite dapper (does anyone actually use that word anymore?), resulting in my forehead so shiny from stressing over what child is, or is not, picking their nose in public and on film, that it could be used as a solar panel, well... makes me want to hyperventilate. And the mental image of the Mr. Clean clan in their white shirts and trendy jeans all smiling sweetly while Momma is breathing into (or drinking from) a paper bag? Not so good.

But then the nostalgic Angel kicks in. The one who can stare off into the atmosphere and dream of a photograph where I look like Rita Hayworth, perfect matte forehead with coiffed tresses, and a three year old who would not dare make his favorite "bad guy face" right before the flash goes off.

This makes me want to call the mall and make an appointment. Or mortgage the house and book a photo shoot with a real photographer, make-up artist, lighting specialist and stand in children who resemble my own, but without peanut butter in their ear or magic marker tattoos. But then reality kicks in. And I schedule a mammogram instead.

My Problem Child

2010-11-17T15:45:00.000-05:00

Do you have a "problem child"? I do. And I am the problem.

During a brief Facebook conversation this morning with an awesome friend that I cherish (thank you, awesome friend), I was reminded that I am not as gentle, loving, caring or as motherly with one of my kids as I ought to be. Which kid is irrelevant; they all deserve that kind of a mother.

Sanctus Real has a song called, Lead Me, that if you have never heard, you need to stop what you are doing and go listen to it, RIGHT NOW. I am not kidding, I will wait.... It will give you a lump in your throat. You know the one. Or it will make you bawl like a three year old, like I did. You know... the "ugly cry". If it doesn't, come on over here and I will smack you in the back of he head for being emotionless. Maybe that will make you cry. Either way, the song will be "sniffling worthy". Disclaimer: You know I am just kidding about the smacking thing, right? I would never do that to you. Unless you stole all my chocolate. Or said mean things about Ronald Reagan. Or hate tea. But I digress...

The song's first verse is about the responsibility a husband has to his wife. I was all ready to tattoo the words on Mr. Clean's forearm (with much self-righteousness) for him to read daily, when the second verse started. To say I was humbled would be an understatement. A puddle on the floor? Probably a MUCH closer description.

I will not quote the entire song as you have already heard it (right? right?!), but this line was the one that was knee buckling,

"Show me you're willing to fight, that I'm still the love of your life".

First instinct, assign this to the hubby. He is my best friend and the love of my life. He has always been kind, loving, suportive and awesome. But there are those days when you need a bit more as a wife. Next, a brick to the head, when I could hear this plea come from my child. That child. To say that it applied to all of them initially would be dishonest. It does apply to all of them, truly it does. But for that one particular child it echoed from the mountain tops.

"Show me you're willing to fight..."

Are we? Parenting is not supposed to be easy, we all know that, we all read the handbook. But fight worthy? I know I fight with my kids (because, some days I am, well... twelve years old), but am I willing to fight for my kids?

I do not mean the "momma bear" kind of fighting, which always seems to be about us anyway, but really fighting for them even when you want to sell them to the circus (please, no comments about how that is insensitive to circus folk, that was a fear of mine as a kid, although my kids would probably welcome it).

"...that I'm still the love of your life"

Kids are GREAT when they are new. Then they grow and have opinions and start to talk and all that messy stuff. Then they get hard. Trust me, I have five of them and they are all hard some days. If your kid is still fresh from the cellophane and still "great", I will just smile knowingly. Get back to me in a few years.

Are we willing to let them know they are the loves of our life when they get hard? When we want to pull our hair out or run away and join a rockabilly band (or is that just me?)? When they do not feel like the loves of our lives anymore? When it is no longer easy?

This was what I heard from that song. And that one little face came to mind. That little face needs me to prove to it that it is still one of the best things that ever happened to me.

Oh and Mr. Clean? I have an appointment already made for you at the local tattoo parlor. I promise, it will just "sting" a little.

Yep... It's you. Not them.

2010-10-27T15:20:00.000-04:00

I got indignant this morning. With a five year old. Simply stating that fact means that the five year old acted a little more mature than I did. I hate when days start out this way.

Last night I went to a ladies' Bible study held at my church. When it comes to a Bible study at our church we study... wait for it... the Bible. Imagine that. No fuzzy books on living well or putting your best foot forward. Nope, just the Bible. So, last night we were in Acts and we were challenged to think about how we compare ourselves/actions. Do we compare them to others, thus finding a way to "rise above" as Saul did; finding faults in others to excuse our own sin, or do we measure ourselves again the King of Creation, the Holy God, as Paul strove to do? It was extremely convicting. So much so, that after I was "Saul like" this morning, I was pretty embarrassed about it. Especially as I was sizing myself up against a five year old and using his "sins" to justify my own parenting faux pas. Frankly, laying it all out on the table like that makes me look like quite the moron.

So, in about 20 minutes when the bus rolls up I have some humble pie to eat and a five year old from whom I need forgiveness. I am so thankful that forgiveness is free, or I would have a lot of work to do...

Until later,
Crow eating Angel

One Thought at a Time Please...

2010-10-26T23:52:00.000-04:00

As a mother of five children I rarely have time to mutter a cohesive sentence, let alone ponder anything deeper than, say, the complex relationship between peanut butter and jelly. But I have had a topic on my brain for the last few weeks. It flits in and out as it pleases, and I haven't had much time to unravel it, but here it goes...

I think adopting trans-racially is easier than adopting a child that blends in perfectly to your family. Did that just give you whiplash as you reread it, to make sure you read correctly?

This may ruffle feathers a bit and I get that. I only can talk about what I have experienced, and again I have not taken the time to sit down and write a dissertation on this subject. Just remember... peanut butter and jelly. Okay, now that I have the disclaimer out of the way, I will let you into the vast space in my head that holds the millions of thoughts that float around simultaneously.

You do not know this yet, as it has been AGES since I have checked in, but I am working very part time right now as a parent trainer for our county's department of children and youth. The county contracts me to supervise visits between children in foster care and their parents, provide training to said parents in an effort to prepare them for reunification, and offer a support to the parents. Right now I have only one case. My client has two children who are vastly different in their skin tones and at the last visit we got into the discussion of race and perception. Hang on while I hop back up that rabbit trail and get back on track...

Anyway, this discussion had me reflect back to other conversations I have had with friends who have adopted and friends and family who are adopted. Some were trans-racial (or whatever the right "PC" word is right now) and some were not. You will never doubt that there is a story behind my two youngest sons. You may not know the story upon meeting us, but it is extremely obvious that there is one.

A recurring theme I hear from people my age that are adopted and from friends who adopted a child who blends in (looks wise) is, "When did you find out you were adopted? When do we tell our child that they were adopted?" In our house, it is not an issue, as my five year old can tell you all about the day he was adopted and some of his life before that amazing day last January. My baby however, is clueless.

We brought home our youngest son at three days old as a foster baby and he has never spent a day away from us or home since. A year ago we adopted him and while we celebrated, he concentrated on playing with my necklace. In his world, it was barely a blip on the radar screen. His sippy cup had more meaning to him that day. But there will never be a day when he will not know that there is a story to unravel. My baby boy has beautiful caramel toned skin. My skin is about the shade of a piece of printer paper and just about as blinding after a long winter.

Because of this obvious daily reminder that we are not matching salt and pepper shakers in my family, there is always room for conversation. I remember one day my now five year old told me that his skin was "brown" and mine was "blank" (see? "printer paper"). I got a giggle out of it and it started a great chat about why, and how cool that it was that so many tones can make up one family. My three older kids who are all biologically linked to Mr. Clean and I, also talk openly about adoption and fostering and all the parts that make up our world. It is natural, because it is who we are. But what of our story was different?

Suppose we adopted children who easily could be mistaken for sharing our genes? Perhaps they were too young to remember being adopted and had no older siblings to tell them about it? Would it be easy to slip into family life and avoid the topic altogether (whether intentionally or unintentionally)? I know that happened to my peers and perhaps it was simply due to "the times", but some of them found out about their adoptions in very jarring ways.

We will never have that question. We will never have to decide on the right timing to have the "adoption talk". I also find it easier to talk about my boys' ethnic heritage, as their Caribbean tones greet me with each sweet smile. It just, "is". Their adoptions are a fact of our lives and a celebrated daily acknowledgement, simply due to the obvious differences. And please know that I am not ignoring all the other topics that my boys may want to discuss in regard to their skin tones, I am only talking about the joy of having a transparent adoption.

And, I also know families who have always talked openly about adoption to their children who could be exact little replicas of their adoptive parents. They made the conscious effort to make it a natural part of their world and conversations, even though it may never come up otherwise (you would not believe the "conversation starters" that perfect strangers in the grocery store think they have a right to throw out there to you). But I know more who would rather sweep it under the rug and talk about it, "later".

I am so thankful that "later" is not an option for us. Our adoption reality is all over our faces. Although the big cheesy smile may have given it away already.

So, Here We Are. Now What?

2010-10-20T16:58:00.002-04:00

A million moons ago I somehow lost my RSS feeder. It was low on my priority list to try and find it again. You know, with raising children and being a fabulous wife and all. Little things like that. So today, for some unknown reason, I was inspired to find it again and see what was happening in the blog world. Boy, are you all quiet!

Many of the blogs I used to read daily are gone. Others are not updated often, some are still active. I tried to catch up the best I could after being gone for so long. Then there was the question of my own blog. The last entry was in February. Gulp.

I love to write. I have loved it as long as I can remember. As a child I had a writing desk in my room stacked with pens and paper, notebooks and stationary. I wrote all the time. Today, I have my laptop. I rarely write anymore and I miss it. So maybe it is time to dust off the blog, crack my knuckles and get back to it. I am not sure if any of the three people that used to faithfully follow this blog are even around anymore, but regardless, I will start again.

Tomorrow.

The Adoption Happy Dance

2010-02-05T12:22:00.003-05:00

There IS light at the end of the foster journey. It is the big train called adoption and we have climbed on board. Again!

Last Wednesday, to everyone's joy, Eazy became legally part of our crazy clan, forever. Life is good...

A Life Full of Good Intentions

2009-12-04T13:48:00.002-05:00

I have always wanted to be one of those women who had her friends' birthdays memorized, cards purchased weeks in advance and posted exactly three days before, to arrive precisely on time. Instead, I an one of those woman who can barely recall her own birthday or where the car keys are. Birthday cards? HA!

Once upon a time I purchased a small gift and card for my friend's son who happens to be born on Valentine's Day. His birthday is easy to remember. The gift and the card are still in a bag in my bedroom closet, waiting for delivery. It was supposed to be for his 7th birthday. He will be nine this coming Valentine's Day. I am a wee bit behind.

It is not because I do not love and cherish those in my life, especially my friends. I do. With my whole heart. I just cannot seem to get my brain on board. That is exactly how I feel about blogging and the amazing friends I have made the past few years in the blog world. I love you, really I do. I just can't seem to find the car keys...

So here we go again. Another month completely missed, where I used to blog daily. It makes me sad, as this was the way I used to keep up with the many friends I have all over the States, a great friend in Canada, and those abroad. I have not even had time to read my favorite bloggers. I popped on today because I wanted to read the blog of a friend, and decided I best dust off my own.

You did not miss much in November. We ate turkey, went to some soccer games and sent our oldest daughter to school. Well, that probably qualifies as news. Especially on a blog that started to document my homeschooling journey. So here is the skinny...

Xena has begged to join her brother at the Christian school he started in September, ever since she knew, in the summer, that he was going. We promised to consider it for next year. It just so happened that "next quarter" was a better time frame. K.Z. was offered a partial scholarship that paid half his tuition, and starting Xena a little late meant that we could afford to send her. Not that this was our plan, but it did work out perfectly. So, we sent her on a Thursday to "visit" to see how she would do and by that next Monday she was officially a student and climbed aboard the big yellow bus.

C'sa is still at home with me, diligently working at mastering Kindergarten, while Eazy and Iggy hang out and play. Next year, I may be focusing only on reeling in my toddler. But that is a story for another day. Or month, as it were. Either way, I promise I will be back...

The Big Six

2009-10-22T17:47:00.003-04:00

So far in my life I have experienced six events that have changed the path of my life and my legacy. These would be....

1. Salvation - the biggie.

2. Marriage - Becoming Mrs. Mr. Clean was pretty cool, and I love every day I am his bride.

3. My first born son - K.Z. ranks pretty high up there in life experiences.

4. My first born daughter - I had named this child when I was a kid myself, years before I actually met her.

5. My baby girl - "Mini-Me" emerges.

6. Adopting my baby boy - "Wait!", you say. "What!? I have been reading this blog for (fill in time period here) and you did not tell us the big day was coming?! How could you! Humph!"

Please accept my heartfelt apologies. I have been neglecting this blog for quite a while, because life has been a little crazy. I would not mind getting off this hamster wheel for a minute, but for now, it is not going to happen.

So, here is the scoop! Yesterday we adopted our foster son, "Iggy" who has been with us since his birth. He is now and forever home!

Huh? Say what?!

2009-10-02T09:41:00.002-04:00

“The (film) festival has been unfairly exploited to secure (Roman) Polanski’s arrest over a case that is all but dead. Despite the philistine nature of the collusion that has now occurred, we came to honor Roman Polanski as a great artist. We hope today this latest order will be dropped; it is based on a three decade old case that is all but dead except for a minor technicality.”

~Debra Winger

Is anyone paying attention to this case? According to Debra Winger, it is decades old and should be dropped. OH! Well, alrightly then. Let's just drop it. Would Ms. Winger think this case "is all but dead except for a minor technicality", if it involved her daughter? Except, that she does not have one. But I do.

And let me say for the record Ms. Winger, if she were drugged and raped at 13, by a sleezy 43 year old director/producer, you better believe I would not want to see the case dropped for any reason. Even if that rapist was a celebrated (pardon me while I spit for a moment) film maker.

What is happening in our country? I know that there are many things in this country that are not as they should be, but when it comes to child rapists, even the most hardened jailed criminal knows pedophiles have reached the very bottom of the scum pit. They even have "jailhouse justice" for people like this. Yet Hollywood is offended when a film festival's carefully planned events are disrupted by the arrest of this man after he fled punishment 30 years ago?

Cry me a river.

That is not to say that we shouldn't be praying for this man's redemption. I will admit I have a hard time doing that, but that is my own failure. I would rather see him get justice here on earth than the punishment that he (that we all) deserves in eternity. This whole case just makes me so sad for the way our country sees right and wrong. It's not as if we are the first however. Remember Rome?

Pray for Roman Polanski and pray for our country.

We Will Never Forget...

2009-09-11T11:15:00.002-04:00

America has stood down enemies before, and we will do so this time. None of us will ever forget this day. Yet, we go forward to defend freedom and all that is good and just in our world.

- George W. Bush
43rd President of the United States
September 11, 2001

Has It Really Been a Month?!

2009-09-03T21:44:00.010-04:00

Apparently I have not written in over a month. I knew that there would be times of famine on this blog, but my sakes; a month! And what a month it has been...

K.Z. started attending a small, local, conservative Christian school two weeks ago and he is in love with it. I am sure that the honeymoon period will wear off eventually, but I have a feeling that when that does happen he will still really like the school. His teacher, I have been told by two very, "in the know" nine year olds is, "funny". I liked her when I met her as well. I also like that she takes no prisoners.

The first day of school I watched the clock. I missed him terribly and wanted to know what he was doing every moment of the day. The third day of school, I almost forgot to get home in time for the bus. I think we both will be just fine. I have also decided in my head that he is simply attending a very long "homeschool co-op". After all, the school uses a popular curriculum with homeschoolers, so that scenario works in my head. Please do not inform me otherwise.

Although Xena has now informed me that she too would like to try a year at this academy, we are still homeschooling the rest of the kids this year. Xena is my star student and frankly, I really enjoy working with her. So second grade in her pajamas is right where I want her and that seems fine with her. Besides, she is a night owl like her mom and the school bus comes at 07:25. We are not usually even up then. Well, until two weeks ago ~~when I was forced to against my will~~ when I gladly got up to see my boy off for his first day and every day thereafter. Someone send reinforcements...

C'sa started Kindergarten and is not sure she loves it anymore. She was anxious and excited and bouncy until she saw the commitment. Now she wants to bounce away and play. Frankly, I want to go with her, but being the dutiful mother that I am , I gentle poke her with the cattle prod until she sits up straight and does small amount of seat work. I mean, this is just Kindergarten after all!

Eazy just turned four and has made so many leaps and bounds after being placed with us last December. He is definitely one of us now and I want it to be forever. That process however is just starting and will be sure to take a while. You know how I know?

Eazy

Because after 20 months of fostering and adoring Iggy, we are close to an adoption!! We are talking weeks now and I could not be more thrilled. There will sure be more to come on THAT!

C'sa and Iggy

So hopefully it will not be another month before I post again. I do not want to see this blog die a slow death after almost 4 years of writing. I would be sad to stop. So don't stop reading! I promise I will never be gone long!

Pardon Me, Your Epidermis Is Showing...

2009-07-29T22:40:00.003-04:00

..."I couldn't help but notice your shade of melanin."

This past weekend the family and I went home to Maryland for two family reunions. One was on my mother's side and the other was my stepmother's family. Fortunately for us they happened the same day, not too far from one another, and we were able to enjoy both.

My stepmother has a large wonderful family and I have grown up with them. My late Aunt Lena, her sister, had seven children who now almost all have children of their own. Her brothers have grown children as well and I was able to see a lot of my cousins.

As a child I was very close to Lena's children and whenever I was with my Dad and Stepmom, I would hope to be able to see them. They were a great family and I wanted a family just as large and loving as theirs.

This weekend I got to introduce Eazy and Iggy to my cousins for the first time, as some of them live on the west coast or just not very close. My cousin Margie stayed at my parents' with us and got to spend more time with them. At one point, she was holding Iggy and I was noticing how her coloring was barely a shade lighter than his.

Both of my foster sons are hispanic. Iggy's bioparents are from Puerto Rico, as is Eazy's father. His mother is Spanish. They both have darker skin than I do, but in varying shades. Frankly, I could not care less. This weekend, I realized that my boys have a wonderful gift.

My cousin Margie and her six siblings are half hispanic. Their father, my uncle, is Puerto Rican. Because I grew up in a very diverse world, this was never odd or strange to me. The fact that my uncle had an accent and darker skin was natural to me. So natural that I forgot the significance to my boys until I saw the same coloring in Margie and Iggy.

More than likely these two little ones will be part of my family forever. Although we are a diverse family with varying skin tones, there will be no doubt to the boys as they grow that their skin is different than Mommy and Daddy's. But not Margie's. Or my 6 other cousins and their children who sport darker skin. They will have people who look like them in their family.

They may never care or feel out of place. That is my desire. But just in case, the Lord has provided them many family members that do look like them and share the same heritage. He is so good.

dc Talk - Colored People

I Just Had To Share

2009-07-28T23:39:00.000-04:00

I snagged this from a friend. I laughed. And laughed again.
Forgive me, I just could not help posting this...

A Hard Blow

2009-07-20T21:32:00.002-04:00

We lost a friend today. Robert Miller was a 42 year old father of three who was hit by a car while riding his motorcycle. For the past week he has been fighting for his life, but lost that fight this afternoon.

This is a man I have prayed with during small group, laughed with and grew to love as a brother in Christ. His family will have to now pick up the pieces and put their lives together without him. Please pray for them. When the funeral is done, the flowers have wilted and the condolence cards stop coming they will still be dealing with a pain so deep it can not be described. Life will go on for everyone else and eventually for his family, but their healing will take a million times longer. Please remember them then.

Is It That Particular Hope?

2009-07-14T10:01:00.005-04:00

My youngest daughter C'sa has been begging to take "ballerina" for a few years now. I figured as she would not let up, she might not be kidding about her desire, so I signed her up for a week long, "ballet camp" just to get her feet wet and she what she thinks. She goes Monday through Friday this week, in the mornings. She is thrilled.

Yesterday, I had a friend stay with the other offspring while C'sa and I went off for her first day. She was so very excited and I was excited for her. I hung around a bit, ~~reluctant to leave my baby girl~~ chatting with the other mothers and the conversation of how many kids we each had came up. When I answered that I had five, one of the mother's remarked in astonishment that I looked, "so put together". She said she could barely manage her two.

Instead of falling on the floor and laughing out loud at the remark (which may have been perceived as rude) I thanked her. It must have been the magical lipstick that gave that very erroneous perception. I wish I had it all put together. In reality, I feel quite frazzled at times.

The comment got me thinking however. What did she see? There are times when I feel supernaturally calm about the journey I am on. Other times I throw myself a pity party about the "burden" of raising and juggling five children and managing a household. But I also know that I am not doing this job, "just because". This did not happen by chance. It was part of God's plan and I am happy to be a part of it.

1 Peter 1:3-7 says, "Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade—kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God's power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed." (NIV)

Is it that living hope that shines through to believers and unbelievers alike? I have no idea as to the state of that other mom's redemption, but could it be that that is what she saw when she thought I was, "put together"? Especially on a day when I felt so much less than that?

I do have somewhere to turn on those days when the world seems to run you ragged. I have a greater hope, something amazing to look forward to in my future. I have a place to rest in the midst of chaos. I hope that is what she saw. Maybe next time I will have the courage to share it...

"...Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect..." 1Peter 3:15

Decisions, Decisions...

2009-07-11T16:09:00.002-04:00

If you have been reading this blog for a while you certainly know about the tug-of-war going on between my head and my heart regarding the future of my eldest son's education.

My nine year old has been homeschooled since Kindergarten and although I have enjoyed it, the older he gets, the more I wonder if he would do better educationally with not having Mom teaching him. We both tend to represent a brick wall at times. Usually at the exact same time.

My heart says that I still want the dream of homeschooling all my kids, all the way through, to live on and prosper. My head says that I need to enroll K.Z. in a brick and mortar school and see if that helps him thrive even more. If not, he comes back home.

My head won out. I was a bit sad as I "unenrolled" him from the cyber charter school we used last year, but warming to the idea as I see how excited he is to be going. And from what I hear from a good friend whose son attended the same school, K.Z.'s teacher this coming year is incredible.

My heart still hurts a little, but I am excited to see what the year hold for him. Boy, am I going to miss my son during the day...

Pride, Then Fall. Check!

2009-06-30T23:07:00.004-04:00

I know it has been a while and honestly I have no clue why I have not been writing. I could give you the line that I have been way too busy, but the amount of my Facebook entries would bust me on that line. I could say that I have not had anything to write about, but my brain has been exploding with topics.

I will say that I think I needed a time of quiet reflection on some issues and although I adore sharing them with you and all the advice you wonderful bloggers offer, the Lord directed me to just be still. So I was still. Sort of.

We finished the school year and I let out a sigh of relief. I liked this year, I really did. We decided to use a cyber school instead of the more traditional homeschooling we had been using and I think it helped me feel more in control and accountable. I did not mind someone directing my path this year in education. K.Z.'s online teacher this year was a believer and a former homeschooler herself, and that really led to some candid, "off the record" discussions. He excelled in his studies. The "light bulb" turned on. That is not to say that the struggles ceased.

K.Z. is a great kid. Period. I really enjoy spending time with him and seeing things through his eyes. He is fun and sweet and loving. As my first born he was the guinea pig for all things parenting. I found a bottle I liked with him after we stopped nursing. The perfect binky. A great sippy cup and educational cartoons. He cut his teeth on all of that. The girls flowed easily on the canal that K.Z. helped me dig. He was going to be a genius child who won homeschool spelling bees and read Wycliffe and Hus before his Kindergarten studies. My child would be open air preaching by the time he was ten. So sayeth the Mom.

I was proud of my boy. I was a prideful mess. I forgot to consult someone in all of this. The One. Of course I prayed about homeschooling my children. I prayed about the right curriculum, the best stream by which to read Hick Finn, which co-op to join, whether or not he should play with "non-homeschoolers". I never thought to ask for the Lord's guidance as to whether or not I should homeschool and whom. That was a forgone conclusion. Of course the Lord would be pleased. That is what everyone said. Even my beloved Dr. Dobson had talked about the benefits on Focus On the Family. We were set.

Pride ruled my homeschool. My kids were doing great and having a good time. I beamed like a silly, puffed up, peacock. I had all the answers and knew all the "ins and outs". Then my boy started to struggle a little. At first with reading, and then with obedience.

The reading worked itself out this year and he is doing just fine there. He is still struggling with obedience in school. It made no sense to me. I am a homeschooler! This does not happen to homeschoolers! This only happens to those public school kids whose mothers eat bon-bons all day and watch soap operas. Not to homeschoolers with dedicated, hardworking mothers!

Maybe it was his diet. Maybe I should start serving only whole foods with organic millet for breakfast. Maybe I was too lenient with allowing the likes of PBS into our home. Or maybe… just maybe, I was once again, not consulting the One who created my boy.

I fell lock, stock and barrel into the homeschool snare. Let me shout from the rafters that I think homeschooling is wonderful. My second child is thriving from it and I do believe was reading right from the womb. But there is the trap that many fall into. It is the, "your children can only prosper from homeschooling and will wither away anywhere else" lie. And although I believe in homeschooling and can see doing this for a long time, I put homeschooling above my Creator.

This issue with obedience in my child hit me like a pipe to the back of the knees. Thankfully. I needed to be brought down on them. I tearfully prayed this time about what the best path was for K.Z., specifically. Not based on my plan or preconceived idea, but His plan. That is the only one that matters. Homeschooling, albeit a great journey, will not guarantee that my boy will hit the mission field by 17 nor be taking college classes at 14. And frankly, it is not my place to deem it so.

The King of the Universe created this boy and knew him before time even began. He knitted him and formed him in my womb. He knows my child. So now I must trust that He will also guide K.Z.'s path and set him on the one that leads to Glory.

That being said, I am now pricing polos and khakis as we consider sending K.Z. to a local, Christ based school for this school year. If it is to happen, the Lord will open the door financially and logistically. But, this time, I will let Him lead the way.

As scary as that may seem to my mortal and prideful brain...

A New Reader

2009-06-09T15:27:00.002-04:00

I have done it! I have hit a blogging milestone! I think I have 5 readers now! This newest reader is someone just a little special to me. It's my Daddy (pause with me for a minute to sigh and collectively say, "awww!").

"So what?", you say?! "Why is this a monumental moment?"

Because unlike some fathers who have their laptops with them at all times, my father rarely turns on his computer, that sits waiting patiently in his office. He is on the road much of the day and would rather be talking to people face to face than dealing with them electronically. I will give him credit where credit is due however. He has a cell phone and is not afraid to use it!

So anyway, along with this computer that gets no love whatsoever, my father actually has a company e-mail address and apparently has had it for quite a while. Not that his daughter knew about that, however (ahem!)...

After I found out about his e-mail address I simply had to see if this was true or an urban legend. My father has a working e-mail address? That can't be right.

So I e-mailed my dad just a "test" e-mail and true to daddy form, he called me back in reply (I told you he has tight cell phone skills). Apparently in my test e-mail (in which I had not even written any text) was the standard signature I have on every e-mail complete with my blog address. My dad took a leap into the unknown and clicked on said address. And actually stayed for a while to read it. Voila! I have a new reader!

So welcome Daddy! I hope you stick around.

Checking In... Again

2009-06-07T20:22:00.002-04:00

I have been blogging for 3 1/2 years now, since March of 2006. For most of that time I have tried to really hard to blog daily, or at least every few days. Lately, more than not, I have slipped on that goal quite a bit. So, once again, here I am checking in with my blog friends and the few who pop in because they think (they know) I have lost my marbles and my life is a sad source of entertainment.

So here is the scoop...

- WE HAVE A NAME! After 16 months of trying to come up with a name for our foster son Iggy (Iggy is just simply his blog pseudonym), we finally sat down and decided on one. I cannot decide if I will post it here as I have never posted my other children's real names, but you never know. I do want to share it with all of you that I have formed great friendships with these past few years but.... Anyway, his name will not be official until we are able to adopt him and...

- WE ARE CLOSE! We do not have a date yet, but it seems like our adoption date is getting closer and closer. I am trying not to take for granted that he is ours, even thought he has been ours for 17 months today. Anything can happen, so I am still holding my breath a little until the judge signs his name on an adoption decree.

-EAZY (almost four year old foster son) has now been with us for six months. He is really changing and emerging and that shy, unsure little boy that joined our family last December has started to find out who he really is and we are glad to be able to see it. We still have no clue what is happening in his case, but we have decided that if he needs a place to call home forever, he can have that here. He is a great addition to the family.

That is about it for now. I want to try harder to write daily, but you may have to put up with one liners or silly rantings from my brain on occasion. With five children it does not always seem to fire on all cylinders for some reason...

A Voice From the Distance

2009-05-28T15:12:00.002-04:00

My heart has been a little heavy lately as we head toward the end of the school year. Since the beginning of my motherhood journey, I was convinced that I would homeschool my precious, obedient, perfect, and brilliant offspring while baking homemade bread and making nutritious meals from scratch with whole foods.

HA!

I buy bread, have been known to hit a drive-thru or two a little too often, and have discovered what every mother eventually finds out; my children, while precious, are not perfect, rarely obedient twice in a row and were not born knowing the mathematical constant, pi. Or how to put their shoes on the correct feet. They must be taught. In comes SuperMomma to the rescue. Or so I thought.

Currently I have two of my children officially being homeschooled. C'sa will start Kindergarten next year and then there will be three. My 9 year old son K.Z. was my first guinea pig and we started off with a bang. Then we started limping a little. Then, a shot in the arm and all seemed well again. Then a total blow out. We are finishing up the year and he has done well with his curriculum, but there was a lot of blood, sweat and tears put into the year. Okay, maybe no blood, but certainly a lot of tears. From both of us.

Along came time for student number two, my daughter Xena. She is me, in everyway when it comes to school. She’s a nerd like her mother and loves to read, write and all that fun stuff us geeks love. Polar opposite from her brother who would much rather be playing kickball or with Legos.

Lately, my perfect, precious son has been working very hard to find his role on this planet. For the most part he is still a boy in need of his mommy, not that I would dare tell anyone that mind you. That would make him look so un-cool. Throw that process in the blender with a Lego loving boy, a nerdy Momma who is just as stubborn as her son, and the result is something just a little less scary than, say, Ultimate Fighting. On roller skates.

The daddy person in this equation has just about had enough. So now we have some very hard decisions to make about next year, to which I have been lamenting to friends about. One very sweet friend was a voice in the dark and I cannot thank her enough. She reminded me of some very important aspects I had been overlooking (Mr. Clean’s role here, as well as some others). I was looking for a burning bush and I wonder now if I was close enough to it the whole time to actually feel the burn, but did not want to see it.

I still do not know what the future will bring for my son’s education (nor my other children for that matter), but I did realize that my agenda was certainly not serving everyone else’s as well as I had envisioned.

Perhaps.

After all, you can’t keep a good nerd down…

What's In a Name?

2009-04-21T09:18:00.002-04:00

A whole lot of, "I dunnos". Let me elaborate... We have had three children biologically, which gave us 40 weeks or so to come up with something to call each child. It wasn't terribly hard and to date I cannot think of one major argument fought nor tears shed over the matter. None of our children are still called "baby", so I consider that a huge success.

Baby number 4 came to us pre-named as he was our foster son and they allowed his mother to name him. She must have still been drugged at the time from the epidural, as his name is, well... "unique". There was honestly no nickname we could derive from it that was not as "unique". Later on after jokingly calling him, "Das Baby" (apparently we had been dreaming of German U-boats?), it kind of stuck. We now call him Das quite a bit. It also can be considered a nickname from his given name. Kind of.

Now that it appears we will be able to adopt him, we have had the hardest time with a name for him. We plan to change his name, as it honors his BioDad (in a unique way), who has not honored his child whatsoever.

This child is now 15 months old, and although there was always a chance he could go home, in the back of my brain the wheels have continually been turning on what we would name him if someday he were ours forever. We have yet to completely agree. At one point I finally got Mr. Clean to have the conversation for more than 1.3 seconds and I thought we had nailed it down. Then it changed. Then it changed again. Let's hope by the time we get to adopt this baby (Lord willing), he will have a name other than, "Das Baby".

I Did Not Know Her But...

2009-04-20T20:52:00.003-04:00

She was just like one of us. She was a Mommy, a blogger, a sister, a friend, a wife, a MOMS Club member and a beloved daughter. Now she and her babies are gone and it boggles my mind.

She is a friend of a friend from my home State, from the County where I rocked my babies before moving to PA and from the town where my brothers went to high school. One town over from my parents. I have driven by her house countless times. Yet she is no longer there. It is too sad to contemplate...

Middletown Mourns

The Weight of Change

2009-04-17T23:06:00.003-04:00

I was chatting with a friend today about a subject that has been weighing heavily on both of our hearts. Irrevocable change. The simple knowledge that life will never stay as it was, and even though you welcome the changes you still deeply mourn the past. I felt that today, as I wearily ran all day long. From here to there. Dropping off one set of kids here, another set of kids there, exchanging car seats with Mr. Clean, picking up children to drop them off again and take another somewhere else. This is not much different from a lot of other mothers; I am not ignorant to that fact. I just miss the "before".

Before, I had three children whom I adored and overwhelmed me to the core. Probably almost as equally as the five I have now. We had been a little family of five for just four years. C'sa was starting to be a little more independent, needing me less for the simple things, like getting her head unwedged from the armhole of her shirt. Xena was almost 6 and ready to let her love of reading take her on amazing adventures and my eldest child, K.Z. was starting his detachment phase from Momma that all boys experience and was gravitating more toward"Daddy".

Then came Iggy. As you may know Iggy is our delightful 15 month old foster son. We brought him home from the hospital at just a mere two and a half days old and we adore him beyond comprehension. He immediately changed the fabric of our family, which is how we knew that if there was any chance he was unable to be reunited with his biological parents, we wanted him. Lock, stock and barrel.

After Iggy came home I got a case of the baby blues (mild form of post pardum depression). I have had it before, after all three of my biological children, so I knew what was happening, but it seemed odd. I thought the baby blues happened due to all the changes in my hormonal balance after spitting out a baby. For Iggy, it happened because of the knowledge that my cozy little family had changed. We settled into life as a family of six, even without knowing how long Iggy would stay.

Eleven months later came Eazy, our three year old foster son. And while I did not experience the baby blues again, I did panic a little. My cozy family of five from just a year previous had just now exploded into a family of seven. It made me sad. I thought I was a little bit crazy.

We wanted these boys. We signed up to be their parental units for as long as they needed us, yet I was panicking about losing the little family dynamic that we once had. Selfish vacation plans that had been made were thwarted, the need of changing vehicles due to necessity made me bitter instead of grateful for my expanded family. I felt like I was losing my mind.

(Please do not misunderstand. I firmly believe that children, in whatever form they come, are an amazing blessing. The opportunity to bring them up in Christ, and the fact that you have been assigned that crucial task for this particular creation, is humbling. I had a grasp on this the whole time, ironically.)

You feel alone. It is hard to explain to someone, that you are waiting for this new change to feel normal, all while mourning what was your normal. I could have cried when my sweet friend revealed to me a few weeks ago that she had been struggling with this too after giving birth. It is a strange emotion and as much as I hate that she is experiencing this, it is comforting to know, I am not the only one.

Life Defined In Lipstick

2009-04-14T12:03:00.004-04:00

I am a lipstick kind of girl. I don't worry too much about eye shadow and the like on a daily basis, but I do love me some lipstick. And for any of you who have this obsession you know that when you find THAT color, you stick with it. Even if it means selling your firstborn and throwing your grandmother in front of the bus to race by her and get it.

I found my color about 12 years ago as a free give away from Estee Lauder. I bought a gift for someone and was treated to a free lipstick. I did not get to pick the color, it was more than likely a new color they were introducing. Well, Hello Dolly! It was a perfect fit.

Against my mother's raised eyebrow (she has been a Mary Kay consultant for many moons), I gladly paid Ms. Lauder's staff of make-up maidens for the privilege of wearing, "Alfresco Brick" lipstick. All was right with the world.

Two years ago I went to buy more, as I was running low. I was hit with an alfresco brick to the head. The color was discontinued. Dis. Con. Tinued. It took all the grace I possess to not take the sales lady by the lapel and shake her. Hard. And then hold her hostage until they agreed to re-continue my discontinued addiction. It was not to be.

I scoured every department store within a three state radius (I am not kidding) as well as eBay. My color was gone forever. Life would be irreconcilably less colorful than before the ultimate betrayal.

I searched for a color that would match my previous lipstick's glory. I searched Mary Kay (I think my mother secretly gloated and snickered behind my back), Arbonne, all the department store lipsticks, and even the brands I would literally have to sell my firstborn to simply afford. There was no comparison. My beloved was gone. I had to settle for a different color altogether, but it did not have that "wow" factor.

Fast forward two years (give or take a few months) and I found a stick in a forgotten drawer with a smidgen of lipstick left. I whipped out a lipstick brush as quick as you please to scrape the remnants. That was it, the obsession was back. I decided to search eBay again. I knew it would be fruitless. After all, ~~Estee Lauder~~ The Great Betrayer had discontinued my color over two years ago or better and failed to contact me personally to discuss this. All the other junkies would have certainly torn each other apart by now to get the last stick.

There it was. A small light in the darkness. One "Alfresco Brick" lipstick left on eBay. I prepared myself for battle. It was going to be mine. I checked all our bank accounts, money markets and retirement funds to see just how much I could spend for this last glimmer of hope. There were already bids, but I am proud to say I beat them all and did not have to mortgage the house to do so. The other junkies must have all died from lipstick overdose by now, as I got it fairly easily.

All I can say now is that the mailman better throw it from his truck and keep on going, to prevent attack when I see that bulky envelope. Life is good again.

Until this stick runs out...

Not That Anyone Is Counting...

2009-04-13T00:01:00.000-04:00

In eleven days. Eleven short days until we will take a major step forward in making Iggy a member of this family forever.

Last month Iggy's biological parents signed a consent to have their parental rights terminated. It came as a shock to everyone as they were in court that day to have a judge hear the county's case for termination. It never made it to the judge.

Out of left field BioMom and all of the BioDads involved in this case (there are several siblings) signed consents. We were floored.

They have 30 days to change their minds and revoke the consent, but on day 31 if that has not happened, my little Iggy will be free and clear for adoption. That isn't to say that "Uncle SoandSo" or "Aunt Wherehaveyoubeen" cannot jump out of the woodwork and try to get custody, but it will be harder for them.

We have already been contacted by the adoption agency charged with this case and the wheels have been set in motion. It just might be time to start pinching myself...

Christ The Lord Is Risen Today

2009-04-12T00:01:00.000-04:00

Hallelujah!

I Am Feeling a Little Spoiled...

2009-04-11T03:00:00.003-04:00

I have a new love. Her name is Truvy. She is my laptop.

I have been wanting a laptop for a long time. Mr. Clean has always had one supplied to him by his company. I sit and drool while watching him on it as I sit at my desktop. I know; "woe is me".

As a homeschooler I dream of vacations to exotic locales with my trusty laptop by my side to educate my children and pull up curriculum all while sipping a drink with an umbrella in it. That did not sell Mr. Clean on my need.

I started to whine that it was kind of difficult, as our curriculum is web-based, to jump up and down constantly from my desktop computer to the table where the kids are doing their workbook portion of the lesson. Nope, this did not work either.

And then it happened...

The day Mr. Clean was my substitute teacher. And he used my desktop to accomplish this task. He immediately agreed I had a true case. I ordered her on Thursday afternoon and she arrived ready to go on Friday. Just as Spring Break is coming to a close and a new school week is looming ahead.

So she is here. All shiny and new and fast. Oh, so fast! So I decided she should be called Truvy, because she is all lacquered up. I have never seen such a shiny laptop, keys included, but I like it nonetheless. Let me know if you can make the connection to the name! If I wasn't broke from buying a laptop, I would treat you to a coffee or the like if you get it right. But you will have the satisfaction of knowing, you rule.

I Apparently Did Not Get the Memo...

2009-04-10T21:24:00.002-04:00

Hello blogger world! It has been a while, as I have been swamped ~~scrubbing floors, dusting and beautifying my picture perfect home~~ playing on Facebook and eating copious amounts of Cadbury Cream Eggs while kicking dirty laundry under the beds. But I have decided it was time to check in with the whole 4 people who actually read this thing. Because frankly, I miss you!

Eazy (foster son #2) had a visit today with his BioDad. And because the world tends to be, well worldly, I never thought for a minute that the fact it was Good Friday would alter the plans we had to have Eazy's regular visit at the courthouse. After all, if you will not acknowledge Christ at a governmental level, it seems pretty hypocritical to me to take a vacation day on a day so important to Christianity. But I digress.

I showed up at the courthouse and because I am a "county" foster parent, versus going through an agency, I get the privilege of parking in the garage below, like I am important or something (at which all foster parents will laugh and tell you I am delusional). So the guards waved me in like normal (I am there so much they do not even bother to have me sign in half the time) and I found a killer parking space right by the elevator. First clue something was amiss.

In our courthouse you take two sets of elevators. One from the garage to the lobby and then after going through security, another set to get to your final destination. The garage elevator came astonishingly fast. Another clue.

Up in the lobby, it was a barren wasteland. No security guards stuffed into uncomfortable polyester uniforms ready to check your bags and "wand you" when you set off the metal detector. All I have to say here is, "under wire". Gets me every time. So much so, that I usually get waved on through after a discreet whisper of, "under wire" from the guard on duty. As if I was unaware, since he told me that last week and the week before. I digress again...

At this point is was quite obvious that the courthouse was closed for the day. But I had gotten this far so I figured I would go upstairs and double check. Yep, barren wasteland there too. I got on my cell phone and called the visit supervisor. I was NOT going to have to make this visit up, if she had simply forgotten to tell me about the courthouse being closed today. She hadn't.

She was downstairs with BioDad, locked out of the courthouse (she is not as cool as I am and not allowed to park in the garage). Just then the fire alarms started going off, as they apparently were taking advantage of a closed building to test them for the day. Needless to say, Eazy and Iggy (15 month old foster son) were none too pleased. We got down into the garage and out quickly to rendezvous with BioDad and the visit supervisor outside.

Kind of long story short, Eazy had his visit. A little unconventionally, but we had it anyway. I like BioDad. He may not be great Daddy material, but he is a nice guy. Had it been BioMom...

That's a story for another day.

My Boy Is Nine!

2009-03-24T00:01:00.000-04:00

It's Today! It's Today!

2009-03-23T08:18:00.003-04:00

Today is a milestone in this foster journey of ours. Today is the day that the rights of the BioParents may be terminated, making my baby boy legally free for adoption. The county has a good case, one that leads back quite a few years, even though my part of this story only includes the last 14 months. Iggy's case worker anticipates that this will be a slam dunk case today.

My heart hurts for BioMom, even though I know that Iggy's future would be so much brighter with us and as we are the only parents he has ever known. He is a part of our family logistically and not hers, but she still loves him and that makes me sad for her.

BioMom and BioDad have 30 days to appeal the ruling that we are expecting today - total termination of parental rights. If they appeal, this case will drag on for most likely another year as it waits it's turn to be heard at the State Supreme Court level. Pray for everyone invloved today. It is a bittersweet day.

Written For Everyday

2009-03-10T03:59:00.002-04:00

I was listening to an old CD I had burned years ago (kind of like the "mixed tape" days of the 90's) and ran across this Newsboys song. I LOVE this band regardless, but this song seemed to jump out at me today and was really convicting. Tell me if this song is not really applicable in our current "state of the Union"...

Living in Foster Parent Land

2009-03-05T08:54:00.004-05:00

I had a conversation the other day that made me stop to think about the relationship I have with my biological children versus my foster children. I thought I would share those thoughts here as I have a few friends who have just entered "Foster Parent Land" or are training to be a part of this crazy roller coaster ride.

Please understand that I am writing this to prepare those friends for some emotions they would probably not have ever imagined and maybe will never experience. These are simply my experiences (as well as what I have heard from more seasoned foster parents).

Although we have been fostering for over a year we are still "newbies". We have had only 4 foster children in the house thus far. One is Iggy. He came home from the hospital at about 2 1/2 days old. He is now days away from being 14 months old. The next two were brothers who only stayed with us temporarily last summer. The fourth is 3 1/2 year old Eazy who has been here since December.

There is a big difference between my feelings for Iggy and Eazy. I care deeply for them both. If Eazy were to go home tomorrow I would be sad to see him go and would pray for his parents' success, but life would carry on quite seamlessly. If Iggy went home tomorrow I would mourn the loss deeply. But life would still have to carry on. Seamlessly or not.

As a foster parent there is a bit of a wall that goes up around your heart. It almost has to for you to survive the realities of the mission. In a "normal" family, there is no risk of one of your children being whisked away from you (even on those days you wish that they would be!), but your foster children can be. There is little to nothing you can do about it.

I kept that in mind for the first 7 or 8 months of Iggy's life and then I got a little too comfortable. When BioDad showed back up again when Iggy was around 11 months old, my heart almost stopped. Why was this man bothering me and MY baby? That's the trap to avoid. You have to love them as your own, but accept that they are not your own. That is where that small wall comes into play.

I have no wall with my biological children. I know that my days with them are not guaranteed, but I will love them with my whole heart as if they were. I can only assume, and those of you with adopted children can attest to this, that once/if the adoption decree is signed on the boys (one or both), that wall will instantly disolve and they will fall in line with my biological children. That is my hope.

There are also a couple things to prepare for when you bring home foster children. Others will treat them differently. Not on purpose or with mailce, but it will happen. Little newborn foster babies tend not to get baby showers or big "welcome home" celebrations. They are fawned over certainly, but no one wants to attack that big pink elephant in the room, "what if they go back?"

There are no "congratulations", just questions about their previous situation and what happens "next". Toddlers are pitied and older children are suspect. After all, they were taken from their previous environment. Something was wrong there and may be wrong with them, right? Nothing you do will squash any of this. You just have to hold them close and try not to hurt for them.

The most important thing I have learned in all of this is that it is absolutely NOT about me. Although my feelings, hurts, opinions and desires are real, this journey I am on is simply about them. How I serve them and make life easier and as normal as possible for them is what really matters.

What About The Little Ones?

2009-03-04T06:44:00.001-05:00

Home schooling is something I have been led to do for a long time. Because K.Z. is the oldest he was the first guinea pig and we tried many combinations until we found the one I think we will stick with for a while. But it is a little intense and needs dedicated time. As education should.

Before Xena started school, K.Z was still in Kindergarten and 1st grade. We did "homeschool lite". Xena and C'sa played while we did school for the whole 1.5 to 2 hours and then that was it. We were not foster parents yet, so there were only three children at the time. Now both Xena and K.Z are in school, doing a more intense curriculum and we have three little ones hanging around. Except now it is not for just 1.5 to 2 hours that they have to entertain themselves.

In the morning we all start out together. C'sa (now 5), Eazy (3), and Iggy (14 months) hang out with us while we do history. By the time that is done, Iggy is down for a morning nap and C'sa and Eazy have wandered off. Xena and KZ still need Mom to hang around and help them with their lessons. Frankly, I feel as if I am tied to the table in the dining room where they do their lessons.

Fortunately C'sa is great at entertaining herself and she is also great at bossing Eazy around; and he is good at obeying her. So we have a win-win situation for them thus far. But I feel like they are on their own a little too much and I struggle at how I am to help all 5 at once. Eventually, Iggy's morning nap will end and I am not sure how to handle that new aspect.

I know that sooner than I expect, they will not all need me so much, but for now they do, and frankly I am at a loss. I do not want the little ones to feel like they do not get Momma time as I am helping the older ones. I do not want the older ones to stop and stare at the wall if I am taking a minute out on the younger kids (and they do), thus prolonging the day.

Next year when C'sa starts Kindergarten, I intend to give her one on one while the older kids play with the younger ones and then trade. I would LOVE your thoughts on balancing it all out with no one getting left out and feeling lost.

Back to the Land of the Living; I Think

2009-03-03T15:56:00.003-05:00

Had I actually been blogging recently you would be aware of the fact that some funky, mindless, horrific, funk monster has invaded my world and infected my family. For two and a half long weeks. But because I am such a slacker you have been spared of all the nasty details.

Life now is almost back to normal. The "Queen Bee", uh... ME, was hit the hardest and was knocked on my "posterior" for a good two weeks. Needless to say everything, my brain included, has been running in slow motion.

Update on the foster front; nothing's new. That's it. Just what you have been waiting with baited breath to hear I am sure.

There is a small update, but as it has not yet happened, I have kind of pushed it back into a corner of my brain and have refused to marinate on it. In exactly 20 days Iggy's attorney and the County attorney will go before a Judge to petition to terminate parental rights on BioMom and BioDad. We are not invited to be there, but BioMom and BioDad will be there to defend their parental rights. After the hearing, assuming the County and Iggy's attorney are granted the termination, Iggy's bioparents have 30 days to appeal. Giving me more time to pace nervously. Okay, or maybe just eat too much chocolate. The pacing might be better for me...

Eazy's case is with the adoption unit, but frankly, you would never know it. Everything is staus quo even though, everything is status quo. I honestly feel though the Lord is letting us have the time we need to get to know Eazy without the pressure of an upcoming adoption. I just hope that things in his life do not drag on too long. This little man needs to be settled permanently.

So far that is the update from the Mr. Clean family. No news is, well... no news. I promise to try and be a bit more diligent with my blogging. And laundry. And dusting. And... aw, just forget it. See you soon!

In Desperate Need of Simplification

2009-02-22T04:09:00.002-05:00

Our lives this past year have taken an amazing turn. We went from a family of 5 to a family of 7 in eleven months and completely complicated our family tree in a wonderful way; hopefully permanently.

Since becoming foster parents and adding two more to our crew I have felt seriously discombobulated. Bills have been left in piles to sort through and have gotten paid late. Things that I know I already own have been duplicated due to my slack in organization. Plans that I have had for implementing order in my home have been put on the back burner. I knew how to do all this when I only had three children (albeit never perfectly), I am apparently clueless with five.

So I have decided the only way to get back to some semblance of order is to start purging. Stuff, files, "friends" on Facebook and in my address book who are not really my friends nor have anything edifying to add to my life, and all those things I thought I may "need" in the future. I figure I need to clear out my brain as well as my house. Both seem a bit cluttered.

It has been a long time coming and I am excited to do it. If I can find my calendar I just might be able to pencil in a start date. Pray for my sanity!

Ouch...

2009-02-21T15:44:00.002-05:00

Because my brain has been congested and feverish lately, I have no new thoughts of my own, but I was majorly convicted after reading this today. Enjoy a little Spurgeon...

If you really love him, it will not be a question of whether you shall do something, the only question will be, “What can I do?” and you will say in your pew this morning, “What shall I render to the Lord for all his benefits toward me?” He has spared your lives, he has given you health and strength, provided you with spirituals and temporals, he has made your heart leap for joy at the sound of his name, he has plucked you out of the horrible pit and out of the miry clay, he has taken you out of the black bondage of the prince of darkness, and made you his sons and daughters; he has put the ring of his eternal love upon your finger, your feet are shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace.

“This world is yours, and worlds to come,
Earth is your lodge, and heaven your home.”

There is a crown for your head and a palm branch for your hand, and pavements of gold for your feet, and felicities for ever for your entire soul; and even your body is to be raised again from the dust and fashioned like unto Christ’s glorious body. “Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for you.” Now what will you do for him?

From a sermon entitled "The Waterer Watered," by Charles Spurgeon delivered April 23, 1865.

What A Blessing You Have Been...

2009-02-12T15:52:00.002-05:00

Seven years ago, a large scrunchy looking creature was born. She was big (10 lbs. 11 oz.), bright red with black hair and resembled a small sumo wrestler. I fell hopelessly in love. This is that creature more recently. An amazing, beautiful and sweet girl. I am still hopelessly in love.

Happy Birthday my sweet girl!

Perfect Imperfection

2009-02-02T09:19:00.002-05:00

Last week we had a "snow event". It could have been great as we got about 4-6 inches, but they were quickly followed by sleet and freezing rain, making our fluffy white snow into about 2 compressed inches of ice. Then it melted a bit and became ice covered slush. That night it refroze.

I was driving home the other day at dusk the next day, and as I entered the neighborhood I marveled at the scene. The sun was reflecting off of the glassy snow in the front yards of the houses I passed. Some were sheer perfection, not a single foot print marred the snow, making it look as smooth as smooth could be. Some houses had a yard full of a choppy mess, jagged edges of ice were left where children had obviously tread. These yards had evidence of fun stomped all through them. They told a story with every step. You can guess which yard my own house sported.

I can be ridiculously obsessive about my house. You'd never know it if you walked inside, but in my head there are no hand prints on the walls, scuffs on the floors nor dirt on the carpets. In my reality, I have an abundance of each. I have been in houses just like the one in my head; shiny kitchen floors and counters, perfectly painted molding and door jambs and carpeting in which each fiber stands at attention. I marveled at them, envied the cleanliness, but there was always something missing. A story. I can never read the story of that particular family.

My house is laden with stories. Start with the front yard. It is a choppy mess of ice and snow as 4 out of our 5 kids have stomped hundreds of times through it. There is a blue plastic baseball bat buried somewhere in the snow that was not rescued beforehand. On the porch is evidence of an unnamed child's artwork with crayon (they thought it was sidewalk chalk, not sure how that mistake was made) that we only managed to get half scrubbed away before other projects took precedence. Our front door really needs to be sanded down and freshened with new paint.

Entering our house you will immediately see a pair of snow boots laying inches from the coat closet in which they should reside. Another pair is standing neatly by the grandmother clock, mere feet from the closet. In the living room (that is really our office) is a lone Cinderella doll laying on the couch. She has only one shoe, so I can only surmise that she had a rough journey to this resting point. The dining room table is heavy with school books, crayons, pencils and glue sticks. A paper butterfly, compliments of Chick Fil-A has also landed on the table.

Venturing into the kitchen there are three boxes of cereal still sitting on the kitchen table from breakfast and an abandoned cereal bowl. The sink sports dishes waiting to be loaded into the dishwasher that is waiting to be emptied. Beyond the kitchen is the family room where folded laundry is stacked on the back of the couch and the floor is strewn with yesterday's toys. A chewed pair of 3-D glasses from last night's Super Bowl commercials sits atop the dogs' kennel, complete with Iggy's teeth marks.

I will spare you the view upstairs.

I suppose I would rather live in a house that has a treacherous ice field in the front and cereal bowls in the sink than live without the 5 tornadoes that left the chaos in the first place. My house definitely tells multiple stories. But I still dream about shiny kitchen floors and counters, perfectly painted molding and door jambs and carpeting in which each fiber stands at attention.

This Year's Best

2009-02-01T23:15:00.002-05:00

I was a little disappointed with this year's Super Bowl commercials. Then again, with a price tag of 3 million, who could afford to pay for the spot and then make a "slam dunk" commercial? But one did stand out, and although it was not the commercial I mentioned Friday, it was still a winner. And funny...

Are We Really Surprised?

2009-01-30T15:08:00.002-05:00

This ad was contracted to be shown during the Super Bowl. Then NBC pulled it. I simply cannot even imagine why (enter deep sarcasm and rolling of eyes here)*. Yet we will get to see commercials we will have to censor for our children.

I thought this was powerful...

*In the interest of fairness, NBC and NFL representatives state that the ad was pulled because they say they have a policy against "issue ads". They have the right to do so. I still think it is a great commercial.

Kindred Spirits

2009-01-24T01:15:00.001-05:00

During the Christmas holiday my Father, Stepmom and two brothers came for a few days. It was bliss and I actually cried when they left, as our opportunities to see them are too few and far between.

Something neat happened when they were here however. Eazy found his "Grandpa". Since coming to our house Eazy has met various family members and has been polite and warm to all of them, but from the minute my father arrived for Eazy's first meeting, Eazy was ecstatic.

We were in an upstairs bedroom when my parents pulled up. Being silly and knowing that they could not hear us, I told Eazy that we should wave and say, "Hi". So we did. At that exact moment, my father looked up and spotted us in the window. Eazy happily exclaimed, "He heard me! He heard me!"

A little concerned about how he would feel with meeting four new people all at once, I asked him if we should go down and say hello. He bolted for the stairs and hit the door at the same time my parents did.

"Hi! I am big, tall Eazy!" he said to my Dad and instantly embraced him. He was just as excited to meet my stepmother and brothers.

For the next four days Eazy rarely left my father's side. He held hands with my dad when we went to a museum, was upset when my Dad did not go into the "Children's Room" at the museum, sat on his lap anytime my father sat down and wanted "Grandpa" to help him with whatever was urgent at the moment. It was the sweetest thing I had ever seen.

Eazy is a shy little boy. The six weeks or so that he has been here has opened him up quite a bit, but he still has a bit of a wall around him. Normally you have to invite him to sit with you and offer a hand for him to hold. My father was able to step right over that wall in an amazing way.

I have decided that these two are kindred spirits. Both had their world torn apart and were put into the care of "the County". Both were unable to live with their mothers and had a hard time understanding why. Both had to build a wall at a tender young age to survive reality.

My father was in foster care for 6 years of his life (from 8 until 14), and will tell you that it was the best thing for him. He had great foster parents and did very well with them. He grew to be a wonderful man. Despite this however, he was taken from 5 of his 8 siblings (three were with him in his foster home), not allowed to live with his family and suffered the indignity of being in a "welfare home". He knows Eazy's plight better than anyone. Eazy seemed to know that as well.

Eazy has found his Grandpa, and I could not be more overwhelmed with gratitude and amazement at how the Lord will use an unfamiliar face to enrich a little boy's life.

Will Angel Get Her Groove Back?

2009-01-23T03:46:00.002-05:00

I have lost my groove. Not like Stella's groove, which I honestly can no longer define for you as it has been way too long since I have seen that movie, but my own personal groove. I am not sure where it went.

I had a routine once upon a time that worked pretty well. It needed tweaked a bit here and there, but for the most part, it helped my household run well. The routine has left the building. I can't quite put a finger on it, but frankly I have lost all ambition. I recently read a friend's blog where she talked about vacuuming before her favorite show came on. I chuckled. I vacuumed last week. One room. Then I was done. The vacuum is still sitting in said room hoping to continue its journey.

The one room that I had perfected and vacuumed has now re-exploded (because I erroneously let my children step foot into it) and despite my chagrin about the way it looked last week verses the way it looks now, I have done nothing to rectify the situation.

How do you get your groove back? Frankly I would love to have a touch of OCD when it comes to the laundry. And vacuuming. And dusting. Stella got her groove back. Will Angel?

36 Years Later...

2009-01-22T14:31:00.003-05:00

No, it has not been 36 years since I have updated my blog (almost); although I cannot believe I have not logged on in three weeks.

It has been 36 years since the Roe vs. Wade court case in the United States, which legalized abortion. I need not say much more as Americans are passionate about this landmark ruling, one way or the other and know all the ins and outs of the debate.

I am passionately against it. Every year while I lived in the D.C. area I would head down in the bitter January cold for The March For Life. This is not something I try and push in people's faces, but I abhor abortion. In any case. Simply because it kills a life.

It hits a little closer to home this year as I think about my children. I would have never aborted my biological children of course, but what if the biological mothers of my foster sons had chosen this route? Little precious Iggy would have died and never had known just how much he was wanted, loved and adored. Eazy (3 1/2 year old foster son) would have never been able to take such joy out of the simple things he sees from his big, brown, doe-like eyes.

These two boys were once tiny specks in their mothers' wombs. Their hearts started to beat at 21 days. Probably long before their mothers knew they even existed. They were perfectly and wonderfully made by their Creator from the start. And their lives could have been snuffed out by a simple request. We would have never gotten the honor to serve these boys and love them as long as they may have needed us.

Today I think about how thankful I am that while their mothers may not be the best for them right now, and could have easily legally killed these sweet boys, they chose to give them life. And for that I am eternally grateful.

I Know Something You Don't Know....

2009-01-02T17:11:00.003-05:00

This newscaster does not know this Canadian family's name, but I DO!!! And they are a great family! Have a laugh at this...

Stay tuned America. Inside Edition called him too!

Thirteen Years and Bleh....

2008-12-31T21:59:00.003-05:00

Mr. Clean and I had the opportunity to actually head out, ditch the five little ones and go out to a restaurant with cloth napkins and no Happy Meals. It rocked. My friend Elisabeth watched the kids and it would have gone off without a hitch except...

Not long after we left, K.Z. threw up. A couple times. And he did not make it all the way to the bathroom. He had complained that his stomach hurt right before we tucked him into bed (we opted for a late dinner), but he has a sensitive stomach and it bugs him every once in a while. He pretty much never gets sick over it however so he assumed he would drift off to a peaceful sleep.

My friend Elisabeth is a mother and a compassionate human being, but she has one small beautiful little girl, who when hurls, hurls like a small, beautiful little girl. Not like an 8 year old boy who had Bagel Bites for dinner. The woman should win the Nobel Peace Prize for, a) helping clean up my son and his mess, b) not running, screaming from the house and, c) for not wanting to ruin our dinner by calling us.

When we got home, K.Z. was tucked away in his bed, all vomit had been eradicated from my bathroom floor and the towels had been washed. I do believe the woman is a saint. Elisabeth went home probably never wanting to step foot back in our crazy house!! And it did get a little crazier that night as the hurling intensified with C'sa adding to the fun, and neither she or K.Z. sleeping at all last night. I even made a pallet of blankets and pillows for K.Z on the bathroom floor (his) so when he threw up every 20-40 minutes, he did not have to go far. Needless to say, EVERYTHING was washed and sanitized today, including K.Z. and C'sa.

Here in the part that screams with irony. Our house was a mess. The kind of mess that you will not even answer the door for the UPS man in fear that he may catch a glimpse. No worries though, as most of it was delegated to mine and the kids' rooms so it could be safely hidden.

Except that K.Z decided not to puke in HIS bathroom, but mine. Behind the door hiding the many laundry baskets of folded and unfolded clothes waiting to be put away. Behind the door hiding the big box of Christmas wrapping paper spread out on the floor. Behind the door hiding the piles of books on my dresser that have still not been put away. Behind the door hiding the carelessly thrown shower towel and (gasp!) pair on underwear I left on the bathroom floor.

I just about died from embarrassment when I realized that not only did Elisabeth get to clean up vomit from my floor and son, she got to do it amongst all that glory that was my bedroom. Now I know she will never come back!

It humbles me to no end however to have a friend who would be willing to go through all that, and still put our needs first. She did not want to ruin our night out as a couple celebrating our sacred union and was willing to serve us and our son in an amazingly unselfish way.

Thank you Elisabeth.

13 Years and Counting

2008-12-30T15:19:00.004-05:00

This is the ONLY "hair band" song that could, can and still make me tear up. This was our first dance as husband and wife thirteen years ago. You know that Mr. Clean had to have picked it or we would have been jamming to The Brian Setzer Orchestra for our first dance!

This song means more because Mr. Clean had this in mind before he ever met me. This is how he wanted to feel about his wife and apparently I fit the bill. Thank you Mr. Clean for 13 wonderful years...

This was my real pick for our first dance. We used it for the "parent's dance"...

Merry Christmas to All and to All a Good Night!

2008-12-24T22:03:00.002-05:00

Merry Christmas from Xena, C'sa, Iggy, Eazy, K.Z.,
Mr. Clean and Angel!

"How Much Do You Have to Hate Someone to Not..."

2008-12-24T13:56:00.002-05:00

Many of you know Penn Jillette from the comedy act of Penn and Teller. Many of you know he is an atheist. Listen to this and hear what he has to say, from the viewpoint of an atheist. VERY convicting for a Christian and right from the heart. Pray for him!

Contentment

2008-12-20T15:13:00.002-05:00

I have not yet wrapped a single present. I have not yet baked a single cookie. My house needs straightening. My laundry needs done. My printer ran out of ink so I cannot finish my Christmas cards. My checkbook needs balanced. Yet I am content.

This Christmas is different than the past few. We have two more children and lots more to do, but simply being all here together makes my piles of laundry, unbaked cookies and unwrapped presents not a big deal.

This year there will be no grandparents here on Christmas Day, no rushing around, no need to ever even get dressed Christmas Day and I know that is the way the Lord has arranged it to be. I would have planned it differently, but then I know I would not feel so calm and content right now. Isn't He good?

Christmastime Is Here

2008-12-19T14:45:00.000-05:00

I have finally gotten around to this meme. It looked too fun to pass up. If you do one (or have already done one), let me know, I would love to read it! And I could not resist posting a video of one of the shuffle selections. You will have to see which one!

Rules:
1: Put your iTunes shuffle on.
2: For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3: YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS!

Here are mine:

IF SOMEONE SAYS, "IS THIS OK?", YOU SAY:
Butterfly - Nicole C. Mullen

WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
Going Public - Newsboys

WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
Falling - Pocket Full of Rocks

HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
Intro to 2nd Timothy - NIV version (hmm, maybe I should go read that?)

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?
Jersey Bounce - Benny Goodman

WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
Return to Sender - Elvis

WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
Go West Young Man - Micheal W. Smith

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
The Engineer's Dying Child - Johnny Cash

WHAT IS 2+2?
Numbers 04 - Zondervan NIV (I am not making that up!!)

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
Day by Day - dc Talk

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
So Long, Farewell, Goodbye - Big Bad Voodoo Daddy

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Revelation 13 - Zondervan NIV

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
Sanctify - Delirious?

WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Jingle Bell Rock - Bill Haley and the Comets

WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes - Cinderella

WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
Flat Foot Floogie - Count Basie

WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
Stupid Cupid - Patsy Cline

WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
Rejoice Greatly - Handel's Messiah

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
More Lonely Guys - Channelsurfers

WHAT'S THE WORST THING THAT COULD HAPPEN?
They'll Know We are Christians By Our Love - Jars of Clay

HOW WILL YOU DIE?
Highwayman - Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, Kris Kristofferson, Waylon Jennings

WHAT IS THE ONE THING YOU REGRET?
Oye Como Va - Carols Santana

WHAT MAKES YOU LAUGH?
Spousal Communication - Jeff Allen

WHAT MAKES YOU CRY?
The West - Peter Kater and R. Carlos Nakai

WILL YOU EVER GET MARRIED?
We Three Kings - Go Fish

WHAT SCARES YOU THE MOST?
Entertaining Angels - Newsboys

DOES ANYONE LIKE YOU?
Trundrumbalind - Joe Satriani

IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME, WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE?
Mystery Of Grace - 4Him

WHAT HURTS RIGHT NOW?
I Gotta Right to Sing the Blues - Lena Horne

WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS?
Christmastime Is Here - Sixpence None The Richer

This is one of my all time favorites songs from my childhood.
How often will you hear four talents like these combine?

Straight No Chaser

2008-12-15T12:06:00.003-05:00

I love these guys and have one of their older dvds. Last year I posted a silly Christmas song from them, but this year I thought I would post this. Enjoy...

The Guilt Trip

2008-12-06T22:10:00.006-05:00

I am not a "girly girl". I wear make up and lipstick and like my hair to look good, but when it comes to clothing I do not do the skirt/dress thing that often. I would rather rock a pair of jeans and a really cute shirt. Comfy, but stylish. When I need to look professional or attend a formal event, there are always appropriate slacks to be found. This apparently stresses my youngest daughter.

C'sa IS a girly girl. She occasionally asks me when I am going to wear a dress, to which I try to sweetly assure her I might "someday", while I laugh under my breath. It isn't like I have never worn them, after all I got married in one! But that is not enough for her. The other day she told me (while wearing a Sleeping Beauty gown) that she was going to put on jeans and only wear them so she could be like me. I assured her that she was gorgeous any way she wanted to dress and encouraged her to wear whatever she wanted, especially her dresses.

Tuesday I am speaking at our annual Ladies' Christmas Banquet and frankly, my closet was just boring. So I went shopping (and found a great pair of slacks and a jacket... don't get to excited anyone). The next day C'sa asked me if I bought a dress.

I told her that I did look at dresses (after all, I had to walk past them in the store), but did not see any that I liked. She sighed with the weight of the world on her shoulders. "But did you go to the 'Pretty and Handsome Store'?" she asked, disappointed.

I almost went right back to the "Pretty and Handsome Store" (wherever that is) to buy a dress just to please her. Almost.

How To Fall Off A Horse...

2008-12-03T16:02:00.003-05:00

"In the life of every horseman occasions will arise when it is desirable or necessary to leave the saddle in a hurry and without formality. The problem is to achieve the fall without incurring more danger than is involved in staying on the horse. Unfortunately there is very little time to think out, much less apply, any kind of technique. The believers in learning to ride from a book will find themselves particularly handicapped—there is hardly sufficient time to turn to the right page of the manual."

~"How To Fall Off A Horse" (original publication 1962)

Good thing we never bought the book. Last week for her birthday, C'sa was treated by Abbie (Xena's beloved riding instructor) to a saddled ride on a miniature pony. When I say miniature, I am not kidding, This pony, "Dusty" is about three feet tall at his highest point, tops.

She rode him around the ring for quite awhile when K.Z. who was helping to lead her, accidentally kicked one of the jumps with the toe of his shoe, dislodging a pole, causing it to come crashing to the ground. For self preservation, Dusty took off (it is almost funny to see a miniature pony run that fast), leaving a very shaken, but unharmed C'sa on her bum, on the ground. She cried, had a sore bum for a little while but was just fine.

Today was Xena's next lesson. The pony (full size) she normally rides, "Ella", is on stall rest due to a cut on her hock (sounds like I have a clue, huh? I had to look it up when Abbie told me). So she rode a newer pony named, "Tucker". This is a really handsome painted pony. He is very gentle, but a shy horse. Abbie thinks he may not have been well cared for at his last home.

Xena shed her coat, popped on her helmet and did very well on him. Until she decided she was cold. She asked Abbie if she could get her jacket and Abbie brought it to her. Tucker decided that was not cool and got a little nervous. He took off and so did Xena. Right to the ground. Her helmet protected her head when she landed, but her back took the biggest brunt of the fall. Structurally she is fine, but she now knows how "road rash" feels!

My heart just about left my chest as I watched my girl take that tumble, but she was just fine. After a lot of crying and a quick trip to the pediatrician to have her back checked out she was her happy go lucky self again.

She's ready to get, "back in the saddle". Let's hope next time she stays there!

Happy 5th Birthday Baby!

2008-11-26T08:32:00.002-05:00

What an amazing and blessed 5 years it has been!

The Attack of the "BioDads"

2008-11-25T13:48:00.004-05:00

We were sailing along on the foster parent seas with really calm waters behind and ahead. Frankly, Iggy's case has been easy. Today was our 6 month review, where we sit in front of a Master of the Court, listen to the fact that BioMom has done nothing to change the course of our ship and then we leave.

That would have been the case until BioDad number 3 (of 4) walked in. The foster father who has Iggy's three brothers blanched a little. Then Iggy's BioDad walked in. My heart just about stopped. Iggy Sr. has not been in the picture at all. He would not respond to court reviews, requests for services, nothing. He once came to the one and only doctor's appointment that BioMom showed up for, never to been seen again. But officially, in the court's eyes, he has had no involvement. Zero. Zilch. Nada. The waters started to get a bit choppy.

Iggy's BioDad wants a DNA test to prove that Iggy is his son. To what end, we have no clue. He waived his right to counsel in the court room and stated that he had not been around since he was not sure about his paternity status and was waiting "to see". "See what?!", I wanted to jump out of my chair and ask. "To see if a DNA test happens to jump up and bite you on the bum?"

The Master was none too pleased and reminded him that Iggy is constantly growing and changing and attaching to us, so he best not keep waiting if he wants to be considered a resource. The world stopped spinning for me at that moment.

I kept my frustration, fear and tears in check while in the court room, but my eyes could not helping leaking a little when we left. Our adoption case worker saw how upset I was and told us that she does not think anything will change at this point. She is still filing for Termination of Parental Rights and will have the request filed in the next 30 days. The actual hearing will not be for a couple months however.

It took all I had, but I asked BioDad if he would like to carry Iggy as we went to a different floor of the courthouse for the test. He happily took him and was genuinely sweet and interested in him, but all I wanted to do was grab my baby and run as far away as I could. I refrained but gladly took Iggy back as he started to fuss about sitting for the swab test (the case worker had him at this point). So now we have to sit and wait to see the results of the DNA test.

I know there is a reason for this, I know we are doing the right thing by this sweet baby right now in his life, but I just hate this uncertainty.

What A Crock...

2008-11-13T16:13:00.003-05:00

I know it can be difficult to not show bias, but as a teacher (paid by our tax dollars), should that not be required? Maybe this teacher missed that NEA seminar. Or maybe they never had one...

Ignore the few seconds in the beginning, it is the right video...

I do not think this North Carolina elementary school teacher was horrible, but her opinions politically should have never been shared with the class (and don't tell me for a second, those kids did not get her "subtle" message). I know as a kid about that age, I had NO clue whatsoever who my teacher was voting for in the elections. Because she had tact and respect for her position. What changed?

This is not a political post, the election is over, Senator Barack Obama will be our next president and deserves our respect and prayers. I posted this only because I thought this teacher was way out of line. Teach about the election process, have "mock elections", teach about the candidates if you desire. Just keep your personal opinions out of it. Our kids do not need your personal garbage (nor blasphemy for that matter). Just teach the basics. Remember reading, writing and math? They certainly could use more of it.

Is NOTHING Sacred Anymore?

2008-11-08T17:19:00.002-05:00

When I was a kid Sunday afternoons meant LOTS of football. Throw is a few car and beer commercials and the Washington Redskins and a fire and that was pure bliss for me. I was with my Daddy. Life was good.

Kyle's cousins grew up saturated in sports and love many of them. As kids they watched very little television, unless it was a sporting event. That was kind of a rule in their house. If it was sports you were good to go. I thought that was brilliant and I wanted to adopt that policy in my house. But I can't.

If my kids watch a football game with us we have one hand constantly hovering over the remote. And heaven forbid if Mr. Clean falls asleep on duty, I have had to do Olympic style somersaults to get to the remote before the kids brains are permanently scarred with images of the Viagra guy or scary movie previews. Not to mention the latest "Desperate Housewives" advertisements. I am not quite ready for my little ones to see Eva Longoria in a teddy at 3 in the afternoon. Or ever.

When did football stop being a family presentation and take on the form of a testosterone laden soft p*rn fest? Is it not FOOTBALL?! You know the game that shows men rushing, kicking, and throwing a ball to their endzone? What happened and why was I not consulted?

I miss family football with no ridiculous promos and commercials fit for late late late night television. On cable. That you pay for.

Cowboys and Indians, and Pilgrims, and Lions, and Tigers, and Bears, Oh My!

2008-11-06T09:26:00.004-05:00

Most of you know that I am fairly conservative in my thought patterns and not really "touchy" about much. There is one thing that bugs me a bit and just might throw me for a brief moment into a "radical category". Then I will go back to normal, I promise!

The whole "Cowboys and Indians" thing really annoys me. Being that my Dad's family is made up of a whole bunch of American Indians (that's as close as "PC" as I can go), it just gets under my skin.

That being said, the kids came home from AWANA last night with an assignment for Thanksgiving. They are going to participate with a bunch of other AWANA clubs to collect canned food for a local food pantry (yeah!) and they are going to dress up as either pilgrims or Indians that night. At first I looked at my sweet little C'sa who has her grandfather's copper skin (in just a lighter undertone) and thought, "Cool. She will look cute if I dress her in Cherokee style". But then I thought a bit longer and probably way over analyzed it, but I thought longer nonetheless.

Indians are broken up into many many tribes and they are all different. I know the characteristics of my own tribe and a couple others, but most Americans know only the "Cigar Store Indian", the "Hollywood Indian" or thanks to Disney, the ridiculously characterized, "Pocahontas" (I won't even get started). So I am anticipating seeing all various forms of pilgrims and Indians that night, all in cute little get-ups taken right from ideas found on the internet.

Here is my issue. If I told you to dress your kid as a black civil rights protester, would you do it? How about dressing up as an Irishman right off the boat, immigrating to New York to escape the Potato Famine? A Chinese Christian? That may sound extreme, but Indians are not just a group of people who interacted with some of the earliest settlers. We are still here, with families, taxes to pay and cultural differences.

I am sure that some of the families at AWANA will have little Pocahontases running around (should they choose to dress as Indians in leiu of pilgrims), and not the Pokanoket Indians the pilgrims encountered. Which technically, if they were really dressing up as Pocohontas, they would have to have their girls topless, which is how the Powhatan tribe dressed their young daughters. Not quite what you would expect for an AWANA setting!).

This whole hang up started for me for the most part when I was in the business world. I grew up in a multi-culteral world, but the only Indians I knew were my own family members. I was excited when I worked with another lady who was mixed like I was. Her mother was a different tribe than my father's, but we had something in common anyway. One Halloween she came to the office dressed in her mother's full tribal regalia, which is regulated to ceremonies and special occassions (weddings, pow-pows, etc.). I was annoyed and a little saddened that she would parade it around for a costume.

So now I have to decide if I want my kids to go along with the fun (which is what I know was intended by the leaders who thought this up) or stand firm in my belief that you do not try and dress up as a race of people for an event.

And just a note to the people involved in our AWANA club (if they read this); this is my hang-up, not a "wag of the finger" to you whatsoever. Just random thoughts from the point of view of the daughter of an Indian (who would probably tell me I am being too sensitive anyway...).

Thank You John Piper

2008-11-04T20:42:00.002-05:00

I needed to be reminded of this. Probably more, if McCain were to win than Obama. It is still early on election night. I have no clue what the results will be, but this was a powerful reminder to me of what really matters. I hope you are as blessed by what John Piper has to say as I was.

I'm Lazy

2008-10-27T15:12:00.002-04:00

This is really not an epiphany, just a fact I have wanted to hide from for my entire life. I am quite lazy and a little spoiled. I want things to be easy. I want life to be effortless. I want what I see in other moms, yet I do not seem willing to work for what they display in demeanor and attitude.

Here is the catch. I don't really want to be lazy. I just seem too lazy to change my laziness. Still with me? If I could, I would have a chef, a full time tutor for my children and a maid. Throw in the butler for the times I am too lazy to get up to answer the phone. Or better yet, let the maid get the phone so I do not have to get around to hiring the butler.

Yet I love to cook, and dream of meals from scratch with organic and clean whole foods. I love the feeling of satisfaction you get after a long hard day of housework and how great it feels to "just be" in the house you have just cleaned. I LOVE being with my kids and homeschooling them and seeing the ah-ha moments of their learning process. All that being said, I am sabotaging my own desires by my lack of "get up and go" and it is hurting my household.

Today I was Jekyll and Hyde. I woke up with a plan. I was going to have a good and selfless attitude while teaching my kids, sprinkled with a heavy dose of patience. Check! Then we would all do our chores while the birds sang along with our efforts. It rained here today. And the stupid birds never showed. And the kids did not cooperate with chores. And Mommy yelled. Again. And it was all due to my incessant laziness.

I can make my house look like a palace when we have an event or company coming. I run like crazy and get the job done. I am SURE this does not go unnoticed by the offspring. We are not total slobs and do the everyday things, but it is common for the laundry to pile up, the pots to wait a day or two (since they do not go into the dishwasher) and the corners to get very dusty. Shoes will lay unattended for days, ignored by every family member who walks by. I would love to say I mercifully sigh and pick up the shoes, but usually I just kick them out of my way (and half the time they are probably mine).

I have not reflected to the kids the person I want them to become, I take the lazy route and wag my finger at them when they do not listen to my instructions for how they should be. I am a bit ashamed and embarrassed by that fact.

Proverbs 13:4 says, "The sluggard craves and gets nothing, but the desires of the diligent are fully satisfied." I am feeling like that sluggard lately, I want a lot of things, yet have not worked terribly hard to get them while bemoaning the fact I did not succeed. I guess it is time to join the land of the diligent and "go to the ant".

"Eazy"

2008-10-25T18:28:00.003-04:00

So far all I have come up with to use as an alias for our little visitor is "E.Z.", but since that can easily be confused for K.Z. (our oldest son), I decided to call him "Eazy" in the blogosphere. Frankly, that's how I would describe him too.

Today we decided to go and visit the "Lego Store" which is about 45 minutes from our house and in a mall (I hate malls). It turned out that it was also "Trick-or-Treat Day" at the same mall so it was really crowded. We checked out the Legos, a dishwasher, since ours is slowly rusting away down the drain, grabbed a pretzel and then got out of there. All of our kids were a dream, making the excursion very pleasant.

This afternoon we had a lazy time playing and enjoying being together. I am kind of sad that our weekend with Eazy will be coming to an end tomorrow. Mr. Clean and I have a lot of praying to do and some heavy duty chatting. This little man could be a great fit in our family. Besides, could you resist this face?

"Eazy"

He's Here! He's Here!

2008-10-24T22:05:00.002-04:00

We are doing a kind of "respite/trial run" with a 3 year old foster boy who needs a permanent placement. He is in a great foster home now but it is not an adoptive resource and it looks like the case may be heading down that road. So he is hanging with us this weekend.

I have not come up with a "blog identity" for him yet, but one will hit me. When I started blogging a few years ago I decided not to use our real names, but to post photos and entries with nicknames.

Now that I have strong friendships with and much respect for many of you, I want you to know that I continue doing this only because my blog is still accessible to anyone. For those of you that comment often and whose blogs I read, I have no problem sharing other information with you (and you know this if you are on Facebook, LOL!).

So thanks for your prayers and comments on the events of our lives, even if you do not yet know our names. He knows and we appreciate it! More on possible "foster son #2" (and pictures) tomorrow!

Thankful For Small Glitches

2008-10-24T21:52:00.004-04:00

For some unknown reason Blogger was down yesterday just when I was on the edge myself. I needed to vent. So I went to Word and typed there. After the tears, frustration and illogical thought patterns all subsided I reread what I had written. I no longer feel this low, but I decided to post it anyway just in case anyone else ever feels this way. You will get through it!

And yes, the boy is still alive and still in our favor, and no, the boy will not be standing at the bus stop Monday morning waiting for "big yella". On to yesterday...

"Something is just not clicking with my boy. I have been homeschooling him since the beginning (he is now in third grade) and his light bulb has yet to “turn on” when it comes to reading. He reminds me of a halogen bulb that is still warming up, but not quite to its full potential. I know it is there. I apparently have no clue how to cultivate his abilities.

In the beginning I thought it must be my curriculum, or the way I was teaching. If that were the case (and it probably had something to do with it) the girls should be following K.Z.’s footsteps. They are not. Xena is actually surpassing K.Z.’s skills in school at the present. We start school and she zooms through it in 3 hours max. Usually it only takes her about two and I LOVE teaching her. Lately K.Z. has been dragging out his lessons for hours. I am about ready to crack with him.

We joined a cyber charter school last month to get some direction for him and a little more accountability. The curriculum is excellent, the teacher he has been assigned seems very helpful, but I am still in tears by the end of the day with threats of eternal exile in his room, hanging over K.Z’s head. When do I admit defeat?

The only next logical step is brick and mortar school and that thought makes me cry even more. But what if it is the missing link that he needs? The biggest problem is that since he is not on grade level, he would either be held back or put in “special ed” classes to help him catch up. Both would be absolutely belittling to him and frankly, it would set him up to be picked on. Mr. Clean has brought the hammer down however. This is either a benchmark year for him (attitude wise when it comes to school) or he is on the bus. Since private school is not an option financially, he would have no choice but to go to public school.

I am absolutely beside myself with this. We do have great days (yesterday was one of them and this morning was as well, until it crashed and burned this afternoon), but then they are followed by horrible ones where I get nothing accomplished whatsoever at home except for trying to get school done through tears and anger (both mine and his). If our family actually does expand by one more, how does this all balance out?

I do not want to paint K.Z in a bad light. He is a good kid with a type A personality. If he can’t do it perfectly, then he isn’t going to do it at all. Which in turn, starts the flow of tears and anger in both of us. The little ones get neglected and the day goes to pot. I am rambling so my thoughts probably are not terribly coherent, but I had to “vent” a little in a community I felt would understand. Forgive my ranting."

Filling Up Our Mini Van

2008-10-18T21:22:00.003-04:00

Today we had a foster family fall festival at a local pumpkin patch and corn maze. Mr. Clean finally got to meet a little guy I have been fawning over for a couple weeks now. This 3 year old is currently in care in a great foster home, but it looks like he may need a "forever home" and his current foster parents are not looking to adopt, just to foster. The case has not been officially transferred to adoption yet, but it is slated to go that direction.

So now I am in communication with his current foster mom to see when he could come and spend a weekend with us to see how he would feel about, and fit into our crazy household. There is no doubt that he will be scared and being so young he would not quite get what was happening, but it will give us a great chance to get a "gut feeling". I am hoping to be able to do this next weekend.

So if all falls into place we may just have that 5th seat full in the minivan and a very complete family portrait. Pray for this sweet boy and for us!

Paging Our Founders

2008-10-17T09:20:00.003-04:00

Although it probably is not necessary for me to state it, most of you know that I am not a Barack Obama supporter. It only has to do with his political position on certain things, as a man and human being, I respect his place in this world.

That being said, I am posting this video because I found it fascinating from a Constitutional stand point. Had it been John McCain I would have posted it as well (equal opportunity blogger!). I know that the people that read my blog are thinkers, and some of you (one of you in particular) has a deep love for the Constitution, as do I.

So watch this video and tell me what you think. Obviously there is a lot behind the scenes and unless we read every court brief and motion on this case we will not know all the details, but the video is a good appetizer.

Roll Call

2008-10-13T22:14:00.002-04:00

So I have been blogging now since... hang on while I check my old blog... since March of 2006 and really have been enjoying the outlet. Plus, I get to "meet" amazing people from all over the country (and Canada, eh?). People I would actually want to hang out with if they were not so far away. They account for the tens and tens of readers that I have, and they usually comment semi-regularly.

But according to Statcounter, there have been over 19,000 hits on this blog alone in the past 21 months. Who are you? I am dying to know. I have had people check in from China, the UK, Italy, and even from one of the "Stans", I just cannot remember which one. Now some of these hits are probably just passing through, but many revisit and stay a while. Yet I have no clue who you are.

So give me a shout out in the comment box (including you tens of tens that I know about already) and tell me where you are and who you are, if you are so inclined. If you blog, leave the address. If you don't, just sign in under the "Name/URL" option. I'd love to "meet" you!

I Am Procrastinating

2008-10-11T22:25:00.002-04:00

I have no clue what is wrong with me lately. I hate, hate, hate, waiting until the ninth hour to get things done, yet it seems to be my norm lately. Case worker is coming? Quick! Clean the house. I am leading the Missions Sunday in Junior Church tomorrow? Uh-Oh, better go and get my things together! We need to leave in a hour and have dinner first? Ugh! Have a sandwich!

It has been like that lately and I do not know why. I have been asked to speak this year at our church's annual Ladies Christmas Banquet. You could have knocked me over with a feather when the invitation was extended, I consider it quite an honor. Once things were set in motion I was on fire writing. For a spell. Then I got a case of, "this cannot be real. I am crazy to think I can pull this off." In the shower I was brilliant, the car, amazing. Doing laundry, the thoughts just flowed. Sitting at the computer? Brain dead.

I managed to fire off a first draft to my pastor's wife whose opinion I really value. It wasn't complete, but the gist was there and her comments helped to reset my "go" button. I requested a deadline for the next draft as I have been so bad at setting my own lately. She asked to see it by Wednesday. I had a million things in my brain last night related to the updated draft that I loved. Today they are not landing. I have been praying that the Lord will guide my words and make them His and I know that He will. I am hoping He plans to do this by Wednesday.

Maybe I need to go do a load of laundry and let the creativity flow.

Those Dirty Dems

2008-10-10T14:39:00.003-04:00

This article cracked me up, since this happened in my mother's neck of the woods and the fact that they stole not only political signs, but someone's mums! If they hadn't caught the capers, I would have sworn it was a Democrat housewife!

It is ironic to me that those rooting for the "party of choice" do not want Republicans to have the choice to choose yard signs that do not support the Democrat candidate. It makes sense though, had it been a Republican stealing the signs, he would have called it a merger and acquisition!

Happy Friday and know I mean no offense to the Dems that I love, this article just had me laughing, as we have had a huge problem with Republican yard signs getting stolen in my county as well...

XXXXBURG, PA, Friday, Oct. 10 -- XXXXburg police arrested two people Thursday morning in connection with the theft of 23 political signs from yards in the borough and surrounding area.

Police charged Philip M. XXXX, 19, XXXXburg, with driving under the influence and possession of drug paraphernalia. Valerie XXXX, 20, 1864 Address Road, was a passenger in the vehicle and was charged with underage consumption.

Police said in a release that an officer in an unmarked vehicle observed suspicious activity in the area of E. XXXX Street and Address Avenue around 2 a.m. The vehicle that the officer was watching went south on XXXXbrook Avenue at a high rate of speed. Police located the vehicle at the Sheetz on Wayne Avenue and made contact with the subjects.

During the course of the investigation, police determined that the two had stolen 23 political signs and two mums from numerous yards. Police said that 22 of the signs were for John McCain, with the other being for (local Republican). The signs are believed to be from the borough and the (local neighborhood) area.

Police said that further charges for theft are pending.

The Art of Patience

2008-10-09T20:44:00.002-04:00

I must admit that I am not particularly patient by design. I am not ridiculously impatient, I just hate dragging things out. Being a foster parent cures you of that quickly. Over 48 hours ago our brand spankin' new adoption case worker (new to us, not to her job) met with Iggy's BioMom and possibly BioDad to discuss the fact that the County was moving forward with adoption and they could either give consent or have their parental rights involuntarily terminated. I have no clue what happened in that meeting and I have to say, it is killing me.

Tonight I had to go to a mandatory annual meeting of all the foster parents in our county. The first subject on the agenda was adoption. The adoption supervisor went over all the legalities and made the statement that they always try and convince the parents to consent to adoption as that makes thier jobs substantally easier in the long run, and that parents you would never think would sign are often the ones that do, once they realize that this is the best situation for their child(ren). Let's hope that our case worker is convincing...

Scandalous!

2008-10-08T10:17:00.004-04:00

Yesterday I used my blog to write about the famous original Mr. Clean's death (not my own shaven sweetie, whom I lovingly refer to as Mr. Clean). I knew all day it was the 7 th of the month. I knew all day that my little man was now nine months old, yet I did nothing to honor that. They should take away my mother license.

So, happy 9 months Iggy boy! It has been amazing and I pray that we have many more years with you around!

Just an Iggy update: Last week the adoption worker came to meet us and Iggy, along with our case worker. She sees the case going easily and more than likely by this time next year he will be legally a part of the Mr. Clean clan.

She had a meeting with BioMom and possibly BioDad (I do not know if he showed up and seriously doubt it) yesterday although I have not heard the outcome of that meeting. The adoption case worker was going to lay it down for them and let them know that she was pushing this case through to adoption. They could either sign their parental rights away and have the kids permanently placed sooner or she was going to take them to court and have a judge do it. Stay tuned to find out what happened. When I know, you will know, but I am not betting on the fact BioMom signed. Afterall, if I were in her shoes, I wouldn't have.

Saying Goodbye To The Real Mr. Clean

2008-10-07T13:30:00.002-04:00

LOS ANGELES, California (AP) -- House Peters Jr., a TV actor who became the original Mr. Clean in Procter & Gamble's commercials for household cleaners, died Wednesday. He was 92.

Peters died of pneumonia at the Motion Picture and Television Fund Hospital in Los Angeles, said his son, Jon Peters.

The elder Peters' most memorable role came as Mr. Clean -- a muscular man with a bald head, a hoop earring and a no-nonsense attitude toward dirt and grime. From the late 1950s and into the early 1960s, Peters Jr. helped advertise the famous household cleaner with the trademark jingle, "Mr. Clean, Mr. Clean."

Peters Jr. played many supporting roles through his career, including working with Roy Rogers and Gene Autry on their television shows. He also appeared in "Perry Mason," "Gunsmoke," "The Twilight Zone" and "Lassie."

"He always played the heavy," Jon Peters said, referring to his father's customary roles as a villain or brawny character. "Even though he wasn't happy about being cast in those roles, he worked really hard at it."

His father's acting career spanned 1935-1967, according to his Web site. He also wrote an autobiography, "Another Side of Hollywood," in which he describes growing up the son of an actress and silent film actor in Beverly Hills. His father, Robert House Peters Sr., has a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

Peters Jr. was never a leading man, but played many character parts in cowboy movies and won a Golden Boot Award in 2000 for his lifetime contributions to the western genre, his son said.

Peters Jr. was born January 12, 1916, in New Rochelle, New York, as Robert House Peters Jr. His son said Peters Jr. studied drama in high school and became inspired to pursue an acting career.

He also is survived by his wife, Lucy Pickett, a daughter, another son and four grandchildren.

No Choice in these Grand United States, Unless of Course You Agree...

2008-10-05T15:09:00.004-04:00

For me this has much less to do with the issue at hand, but more to do with my parental rights. I am an American parent and I refuse to give away my right to raise my children morally to the State. Watch this family's story, regardless of your opinion on the issue. It is disturbing and a very real reminder why I want to keep my children close at hand. When did Kindergarten stop being just about colors and the alphabet?

Scary, But Foreseeable

2008-10-01T10:43:00.004-04:00

Remember people, this is not just a presidential election year. Do your homework on the people "behind the scenes"...

Check out Dave Ramsey's solution to this problem. Only 50 billion would be spent his way verses 700 billion. Maybe he should be our write in candidate!

Cause For Pause

2008-09-30T20:31:00.002-04:00

I was at a friend's house last night chatting with her about K.Z.'s upcoming two hour doctor appointment when she asked me why it would be so long. Then I said the magic words, "Binocular Vision".

"Who is he going to see?" she inquired, and grimaced when I told her the doctor's name.

"We have been through that vision therapy program with him", was her reply and we got into a lengthy discussion about just how many people we knew that had their kids recommended for the same tests and process. Her insurance did not cover it and she spent $3000 in total and her daughter was none the better for it (she and K.Z. have the same reading issues). She did acknowledge that there had been a lot of people she knew that it was successful for, but the cookie cutter approach did not make sense to her.

So that gave me enough reason to slow way down with this process and wait for a few more months. With a new curriculum and a new set or specks, maybe that will be all K.Z. will need. Maybe not, but at least that will give me the time to get a second opinion.

Today I had my little man read two chapters to me of a book he has for school and he basically flew right through it. Maybe I just need to give him time to grow into his abilities.

Daddy Date Day

2008-09-27T23:27:00.008-04:00

Due to the fact we have 4 children under our roof, it is sometimes hard to give everyone everything they need all at the same time. We committed long ago that we would have dates with our kids and take them out individually as often as we could to form special memories and foster the bonds that we have with them. Mr. Clean got a double dose today...

Our church hosted a Daddy / Daughter Day at a local climbing club. Xena just made the age cut off and was thrilled to go with Daddy and climb...

Our dear friend Stuart was along with his daughter as well so Xena did not have to hold Mr. Clean's line, luckily for Mr. Clean.

Thursday I got an e-mail from our case worker offering free tickets to any foster parent who wanted them for a "Monster Truck Show" being held at our local indoor arena. We jumped at the opportunity to throw in another date...

What would make a boy smile this big? A monster truck of course...

The day was long but fun for everyone involved, but provided such amazing memories and great one on one Dad time.

Just A Little Added Stress

2008-09-25T21:53:00.002-04:00

K.Z. had his annual eye doctor appointment today which I remembered about and scheduled two days ago. Not enough time to secure a sitter for four children so we all marched off together (at nap time nonetheless) for K.Z.'s 14:00 hours appointment.

Everyone did well initially until Iggy decided he was tired of the stroller. I held him in the tiny exam room we were stuffed into while trying to keep him quiet enough that K.Z. could actually hear what the doctor was saying. An hour and a half later we wound up needed an updated pair of specs for the boy and a mini conference with Mom.

The doctor believes that K.Z. has Binocular Vision Disorder, which to me sounded like a cool superhero super power, until he said "disorder".

Apparently symptoms can be headaches, blurred vision, double vision, sleepiness and if reading, trouble remembering what was read, the need to re-read the same line of words, frequent loss of place, general inability to concentrate and short attention span. This describes K.Z. to a tee. We have been banging our heads against a brick wall trying to figure out why while he enjoys reading one day, the next he, "can't do it". We all have been frustrated (and some of us in tears).

So now he has to go and be tested for over two hours to see if the diagnosis is correct and the "best" part is that two of the crucial tests in the series are not covered by insurance. To the tune of about $300.00. Now I would sell my house and live in a van down by the river for my children's health if I had to, but this also includes a probability of 9 months in therapy twice a week. It may require a co-pay each visit. I was a bit nauseous when I left.

Next steps: Find someone to watch the three other kidlets during this two hour test in two weeks. Pray for the strength and funds to get through the entire process if necessary. Praise God for revealing the reason for K.Z.'s struggles. Throw Up. Cry.

Simple Curiosity

2008-09-25T11:13:00.002-04:00

I am posting this here only because I am curious to know if this will actually happen. Again, this is in no way a political blog, so we will call today's post a homeschool political experiment.

Here is the theory (not mine, I cannot properly credit this particular writing although I have heard the rumblings elsewhere). Let's wait and see the results...

"On or about October 5th, Biden will excuse himself from the ticket, citing health problems, and he will be replaced by Hillary Clinton.

This is intentionally timed to occur after the VP debate on 10/2.

I have already seen a few short preparatory blurbs about this - the "health problem" cited in those articles is an aneurysm. Probably many of you have heard the same rumblings. However, at this point, with this inside info from the DNC, it looks like this Obama strategy will be a go.

From that date of October 5th, there will be 5 short weeks of campaigning left. The obvious intent would be "Shock and Awe"….to explode Democrat enthusiasm and create a 5 week momentum to election day while the Republicans are unprepared, shocked and paralyzed, without time to even catch our breath while we waste precious time debating if the Dem's can even legally manipulate it to begin with. We already know that the Democrats would have full enthusiastic cooperation from the media to help create 5 weeks of hysteria, smoke and mirrors. Then suddenly we wake up on November 5th and read that our two worst nightmares are in place to desecrate the United States of America for the next 4+ years. The stage is set for this folks.

Some Republicans are suggesting that a good strategy is to get out in front of this Obama maneuver, spell it out in detail, and thereby expose it for the grand manipulation that it is.

Either way, our first strategy is simply to be prepared for ANYTHING during these next two months. I mean, literally anything; any kind of media stunt or extreme manipulations. We already know they have the cash to tie up a near monopoly of the available advertisement space and time during the last few weeks. Most importantly be prepared not to be too surprised or paralyzed into ineffective scrambling for the appropriate responses."

The Unthinkable? Not so much...

2008-09-22T13:01:00.003-04:00

I have gone and done it and I fear that all the denim jumper wearing homeschoolers of the planet will come over and smack me, but I am quite content with what I have done.

We entered the world of cyber school. The free, tax payer funded type. Gasp now, get it over with and then read on. I will tell you why...

I love, love, love the idea of a classical education and having been trying to do that for almost four years now. First I used Sonlight and got the boxed curriculum with the teacher's guides and really liked them. I would have liked them more if they had been on a disc and "clickable" (like Homeschool Tracker, but with all of Sonlight's curriculum pre-loaded). I would have stuck with it more if each year was not progressively more and more expensive. I love that curriculum, but I hated the steep price.

Then I put together my own. I got all the best of each subject and formed them into one school day. I loved it. I still love it and am quite hesitant to not use my own curriculum, but I am a gal that needs some sort of accountability and can slip into a lazy zone, with an attitude of, "they're doing fine! We will get to that book/project/lesson tomorrow".

On the flip side I am also a gal that likes all my ducks in a row. Check off the list and make sure that tomorrow's list is ready! It's a lot easier when someone else is double checking your list. That is kind of where I am right now. I had to put my, "Why We Homeschool" criteria in a real order and see what was most important to me.

I usually tell people that we homeschool to give our children a Christ based, classical education, and that is all true. But I hesitate to give the number one answer. Frankly, I have no desire for my kids to emulate the traits I see in LOTS of brick and mortar school children. They probably would not appreciate that, since most people curious as to why we homeschool have young ones in school.

But mainly, I want them to have the best possible education possible, and in this day and age I do not see that happening in a class room of thirty that one poor teacher has to teach with no authority to do much of anything (regarding discipline, etc.) with students that know it. Each kid is different and a cookie cutter education tends to leave some far behind. So for those two and various other reasons, we homeschool. Yet K.Z. is not the student I know that he can be. I think we both need more structure.

When I was a kid learning came very easy for me. I was taught something, I mastered it quickly, got bored repeating it and got excited when we moved on. I erroneously assumed that would be the case for each of my kids as well. When we started homeschooling and K.Z. hadn't mastered reading while potty training I changed my approach. Obviously I was doing something wrong. Then Xena started school and is an exact replica of me as a child, learning wise. Two kids, two different styles. Hmmm, what a concept. Who'd a thunk it?

So I am delving into a new educational world and excited to see what may happen with a bit more structure and accountability. I had a lot of misconceptions when I started journeying down this path that were soon squashed by some research. Hopefully this will prove fruitful.

There are the well meaning people that tell me that K.Z. is still young and that what he has fallen behind on he will catch up fast, as boys learn slower than girls in a lot of cases. I believe that, I know it is true, but I am not willing to risk him missing something fundamental just to prove that theory. So I am handing over a small portion of the reins and letting a professional come in and help me derive the best curriculum plan for him.

Pray for me. This does not come easy for me.

Huh?

2008-09-21T14:21:00.003-04:00

"Guess who is winning the Miami - New England game?", Mr. Clean, a life long Miami fan, asked Zach excitedly.

"The Redskins?" K.Z. replied.

I think we need to explain this football thing a little better. At least the boy has been brainwashed enough by Momma to know the ultimate answer.

Hail to the Redskins, even if they aren't the third team in the Dolphins - Patriots game.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWEETIE!

2008-09-21T01:12:00.000-04:00

You are amazing and I adore you Mr. Clean.
Have a wonderful birthday, no matter how hectic!

If only...

2008-09-18T18:32:00.002-04:00

On the way to soccer practice tonight, K.Z. proclaimed, "Mom, if Adam hadn't sinned there wouldn't be any mushrooms."

Not totally befuddled, as K.Z. will sometimes show up completely out of left field in a conversation, I probed deeper, "What makes you say that?"

"Well, Dad said that it is because Adam sinned that we have weeds and a mushroom is like a weed, so it's Adam's fault", he replied.

I had to smile a bit at that logic since I abhor mushrooms. Amen Brother. Amen.

Oh Happy Day...

2008-09-18T14:19:00.002-04:00

I just heard from Iggy's foster care case worker that the case has officially been assigned to an adoption case worker. This is only the beginning of a very long road and nothing is guaranteed until this boy legally has our last name, but it sure is heading in the right direction!

I guess I better start scrubbing, I have a new case worker to dazzle!

Another Big Decision To Make

2008-09-16T15:35:00.002-04:00

Mr. Clean and I decided when we started this whole foster journey that our limit would be two children, as we have our own three. Our 8 month old foster son Iggy has been firmly planted in our world since he was 3 days old. There is no doubt whatsoever that we want to keep him forever and we hope to adopt him. That leaves one open spot in the car.

A few weeks ago I received a call from our case worker about a little boy (just turned 3) who was currently in a great foster home but he more than likely would be heading to adoption. His current foster parents are not an adoptive resource and he needs to be placed in a foster home that he would never have to leave. The situation tugged on my heart strings, especially after having "John and Jay" with us temporarily. And this is only one boy.

We went for a play date to meet this little guy today and he is a sweetie. He is attached to the other foster child in the home and sees him as his brother as well as his foster family. Any move on him will be difficult.

Pray for this little guy regardless if we decide to bring him to live with us or not. And pray for us as we make this decision.

Please Forgive Me

2008-09-15T13:49:00.004-04:00

This is in NO way a political blog and quite frankly, I usually try and keep my head firmly in the sand around election time, lest I go insane with the barrage of political ads, cartoons, talking heads, etc. This I could not pass up.

Tomorrow I promise to put my head back in the sand. Probably...

This Is A Hoot

2008-09-12T03:45:00.001-04:00

I guess Obama's writers work for The Washington Post. Or maybe they just steal from it...

Obama's statement on 9/9/08:

"Watch out, George Bush, except for economic policy, health care policy, tax policy, education policy, foreign policy and Karl Rove-style politics – we're really going to shake things up in Washington!' That's not change ... you know, you can put lipstick on a pig, it's still a pig."

Washington Post cartoon from 4 days earlier...

Quite Appropriate For Today

2008-09-11T11:01:00.003-04:00

I snagged this from my friend Jamie. When will we start listening to the ones who are actually defending us? I do not know who this soldier is (Marine, sailor, airman?), but I wish I could thank him in person. It is short, so watch it until the end...

We Remember You...

2008-09-11T09:31:00.003-04:00

Doing The Happy Dance

2008-09-10T00:34:00.001-04:00

I made sure to pull the curtains first and then happily danced around the office (which technically is our formal living room, but I love saying I have an "office") in celebration the other night. I now have another RSS feeder, thanks to Mr. Clean getting annoyed at my constant whining about the failure of the old one and the evils of Firefox (which I actually love).

So "phhhhh" on you Firefox (just kidding, I love you Firefox, it's all for show), I went with a Google reader instead (and then I used a Firefox add-on to track it; see I still love you Firefox...). So there!

Blog away bloggers, I missed you and now I will once again be able to happily ~~stalk~~ track you.

A True Amurikan Girl

2008-09-09T09:14:00.002-04:00

This morning, C'sa came to me and asked, "How do you say 'hello' in Spanish?"

"Hola", I replied.

A minute later she was back, face all bright and shiny, "Hola!" she exclaimed.

"Hola! ¿Qué tal?", I replied.

She blinked, completely blank and replied in true American fashion, "Si!"

"Wow, What Great Tan!"

2008-09-09T01:45:00.003-04:00

These words were uttered this summer about Iggy, quite in jest, as his melanin is a bit more pronounced than ours. I was in no way offended as the person was simply admiring his beautiful coppery caramel skin tone, but it got me thinking.

If it is in the Lord's plan for us to adopt Iggy we will probably be faced with this topic again. We have already faced several curious questions about where he is "from" (I would love to reply and say, "a uterus", but I have not gotten up the nerve. Yet.), what his nationality is, and what race he is.

They are all valid questions and nothing by which to be annoyed. Frankly, none of us in this little clan have the same skin tone. Xena looks like she stepped off a Viking ship, C'sa has a lighter, but similar copper shade of my father's skin, K.Z. is one big freckle, Mr. Clean is the captain of Xena's viking ship, with ruddy, sea tanned skin, while I am a crazy cross of an Indian father and a blonde mother, leaving me with dark hair and pale skin. We are all different.

But we are all the same as well. If we do adopt him (and we see it this way now anyway), we will be a family. First and foremost. All creations of the Lord and all a part of the Mr. Clean clan. We do not focus on a daily basis that our skin is a different hue or that Mr. Clean's Danish, German and Canadian genes are vastly different from my own Cherokee, Scot and English ones. Nor that Iggy's Latino genes are different from my own. I will be (am) Iggy's mother and that is all that will matter.

Don't get me wrong. I am not so naive to think that his genetics and heritage will not be important to him later. We all go through a period of wondering where we are from, what our ancestors did and who they were. I myself am thoroughly intrigued my own genealogy and we will do our best to help foster any interests he may have in that. We will not however, allow it to be his "idol". Culturally, my Iggy will be an American. After all, he was born in Pennsylvania. Home of the first Capitol City and where our country was officially "born". How more American can you get? Beside perhaps, eating apple pie while watching baseball?

I am proud of my heritage, but I decided long ago not to wear it as a badge of honor. Besides, carrying bag pipes and a peace pipe, all while wearing a buck skin kilt would be tough while doing the dishes and changing diapers. It's the same for Mr. Clean. Imagine our kids in the same scenario, except they'd have to wave St. Andrew's Cross, Union Jack, the Maple Leaf, Schwarz-Rot-Gold, Dannebrog and Old Glory, while balancing the Seal of the Cherokee Nation. It' s a heavy load to bear. Pride is one thing, obsession another. So we wrap it all up in a nice neat package and hang it on a peg hook. Underneath the Cross.

The fact of the matter is that while we are now a global society, we all still have allegences. To our God, to our countries and to our families. That comes long before our skin tones. I am just thrilled to be a part of such a diverse family. An American family.

Resistance Is Futile

2008-09-08T21:13:00.002-04:00

If you do not find this absolutely ridiculous, no matter what side of the argument you are on, please come on over and let me school ya. Teachers being intimidated by a 15 year old's questions? Hmmm. Shouldn't students be able to ask questions?

If evolution is absolute, then why dear teacher can you not slam dunk these questions? Yep, we are sending our 15 year old evil children into the schools to ask you hard questions, but then again, we're right. Resistance is futile, you will be assimilated...

I Could Just Cry

2008-09-06T23:06:00.003-04:00

I am moderately technologically literate. I can figure things out on my computer and online if I pot around for a while. So I was REALLY proud of myself for getting all my favorite blogs on a RSS feed with a nice little counter that kept track of them and a simple button to click on to see all of them. Something happened...

I do not know what exactly, but my little link is gone and I can no longer have instant access to all the blogs I like to check in on. I am blaming all on Firefox, for it cannot be MY fault. So if I am quiet on comments lately, please forgive me. I guess I have to rebuild it.... ugh.

"Mini Me" Has Completed Her Transformation

2008-09-05T21:15:00.003-04:00

Yesterday we went to take Xena's cast off and all was right with the world. I even got great shots of her at the doctor's office, but alas, I cannot share them with you since I forgot the bleeping media card was NOT in the camera. I assure you however, the photos were most excellent.

On the way out we got to walk through an enclosed bridge from the doctor's office to the parking garage where I spotted a spider hanging out on the wall. Deciding that since we were on neutral territory (not outside in the spider's environment nor in my house), I would not stomp poor Charlotte or run screaming in terror. I decided to act like an adult (one who can tolerate spiders).

I called the children over to check out the spider and K.Z. was the first there and got about an inch from her (him? it?). I was waiting for the arachnid to pounce on his glasses. I mean after all, the boy got close! Xena, more cautious, came to look but kept a good distance. I turned to attend to Iggy and the stroller when I heard Xena exclaim, "Cccc'sssaaaa!"

I turned in time to see my precious 4 year old carbon copy, grind her foot into the ground. She apparently kicked the poor spider off the wall and proceeded to obliterated it with her shoe.

"Why did you kill the spider C'sa", I asked stiffling a laugh.

"Because I did not like it", was her simple reply.

A woman passing by applauded her. Watch out world. She has kid size 10 1/2 Sketchers and she knows how to use them. I was so proud.

I Must Keep Muttering....

2008-09-04T19:19:00.003-04:00

"The Lord's timing is perfect, the Lord's timing is perfect..."

I know this is true, but I want it NOW!! Iggy's case is "this close" to being transferred to the adoption unit (where the process to terminate parental rights will begin), except that someone had the nerve to go on vacation, halting the process until next week at the earliest when she returns.

"AARRRRGGGGGHHHH!!!!!"

Just knowing that it is so close yet not quite there yet is killing me.

It's Not Really Monday...

2008-09-04T09:10:00.002-04:00

In my brain it is Monday. Probably because Mr. Clean took an extra vacation day off yesterday and stayed home. Now my week is all discombobulated. So I am still pretending it is Monday. In my brain it is just easier that way...

Last week our friend Derrick suffered the death of his very young wife and we are still reeling from it. Derrick and Amy had only been married just over a year and a half and were in their early 20's. So far there is no explanation of her death. She was not feeling well and went to lay down. Derrick found her unconscious later and she never woke up. She died soon after. Needless to day, Derrick is devastated.

Derrick served for a while as the worship leader at our church before obtaining a full time ministry position in New Hampshire and relocating with his new bride. Amy had grown up in PA and her family are members of our congregation. Her death has deeply affected two families, two churches and their many friends.

Since we were in New York I missed Sunday's services after Amy's death but I was told that our Pastor scrapped his planned sermon and addressed death in the body of believers. I have not had a chance to download the sermon, but I will try and listen today. I have heard it was excellent.

What impressed me the most was the fact that our pastor and his wife got in their car and headed to New Hampshire for the services on Monday and Tuesday. Out of all the funerals I have been to, I have rarely seen a former pastor make more than a brief appearance at the wake, and that was if he was a local pastor. Not to clap too loudly, as I think our pastor did the right thing, but no one would have blinked had he simply sent his regards from afar.

This is one of the passages that he preached on this past Sunday. It certainly gives you something to chew on...

The righteous perish,
and no one ponders it in his heart;
devout men are taken away,
and no one understands
that the righteous are taken away
to be spared from evil.

Those who walk uprightly
enter into peace;
they find rest as they lie in death.

Isaiah 57:1-2

I Just Gotta Say...

2008-09-03T09:48:00.000-04:00

I decided a while ago not to get real political on this blog. Many of my family member disagree with my politics (I am the Alex P. Keaton of my family), and we will not be voting for the same candidate. I am not terribly thrilled with either candidate, but you can bet your booty I will NOT vote for the one who supports abortion.

So I just have to put this out there. I cannot wait for November 5th. If I see one more Facebook tirade from family members and old school mates who went liberal, against the GOP, I will scream. And it is a safe bet that wherever you are, you just might be able to hear me!

Notice I have blogged this instead of putting it on Facebook where more people will see it, because I am a tad wimpy. But it's coming. Probably sooner than later.

I Have Been Slacking

2008-08-31T12:03:00.002-04:00

My blogging time has been seriously interrupted lately by my choice of profession; Chief Operations Officer and Momma Extraordinaire for the Mr. Clean enterprise. Somehow these pesky offspring think they are entitled to all of my resources. Silly rabbits.

To prove them wrong, next week I promise to once again tie them up in the root cellar while I have my precious blog time, after I have returned home from the glorious Adirondacks, where I am currently.

Except that we do not have a root cellar and the law just might frown upon me tying them up down there. There is always something thwarting my plans...

See you soon.

Angel In Wonderland

2008-08-30T12:31:00.000-04:00

Or as the natives call it, "Adirondack State Park"