A Most Unusual Son

Last year Joey read an article that I'd written about some extremely rough years I'd endured with Cristy, a decade actually. Cristy is an amazing woman now and Joey remarked to me after reading the article, that he couldn't wait for me to write one about him.

I don't want to be premature nor jinx anything but I'm already writing that article in my mind.

This is just an extremely unusual child. He'll be 17 in three weeks and has only been back with me since last Christmas. He appears to be trying hard to make up for the 49 months that he was gone. He keeps track of my movements like a hawk, where I'll be, what I'll be doing and what I seem to be thinking at all times. The younger kids adore him since, basically, he's just a really big Bubba. He's also impressed all the older kids as someone who truly desires to belong and will do what it takes rather than constantly test Big Mama. He still has to be sent to his room to calm down on a very regular basis but, years ago, it required a sheriff's deputy to contain him. He broke out the van window, peed in the Honda front seat, threw bookbags out a window of a moving school bus, was kicked out of a therapeutic outdoor camp and tore up the principal's office and she was a friend of mine. These were just a few of the incidents that resulted in a free pass to a mental institution.

He's now been able to go on church outings and activities where years ago he was "grounded to a grown-up" as my friend Tina puts it. He was either at school with a teacher and behavior aides or he was required to be with me 24-7. He's not abusing his freedom now either. He prefers to be at home usually but, of course, that's where the action is. My grandbabies bring out the best in him. He loves them, he soothes them and his goofiness entertains them.

It was with almost insumountable reservations that I took him back into our family last year. I argued with his worker, Pam, and even gave out the, "I'm too old now to have to wrestle down a grown boy" argument. Eventually I told her that I'd give it a try....How's that for a tentative commitment?

The jury is still out on this character but I am greatly encouraged about his future prospects. It would be hard to imagine our family without Joey.

New Orleans

I moved to New Orleans in 1980 and lived with my wonderfully eccentric and always entertaining brother, Jimbo, and, of course, Sarah. I only lasted a year since I just do not like cities. If I had to live in a city then I would choose N'Awlins because it cerainly had character. But even 25 years ago the drinking water was too foul and chemical laden to drink. I was used to well water and having to buy water from the grocery store was a shock to my system. The food in New Orleans almost made up for the putrid water though.

The crime was horrible then and has only gotten worse since the advent of crack cocaine in the mid 1980's and meth. I recently emailed Jimbo an article where a group of social scientists went into the projects in New Orleans and they fired off 700 rounds of blanks and NO ONE called the police. I find that alarming.

I worked for the New Orleans Public Library downtown where I answered the phone at the reference desk and settled stupid bets from drunks. Like, "Do ducks quack or is it actually a honk?" You can only imagine the answer I wanted to give but I was paid to be polite and professional. On a good day I helped goevernment workers and students...but, hey this was New Orleans and drunks over-populated the city.

Later I transferred to Latter Library, a mansion, on beautiful St. Charles Avenue (pictured above). I rode a streetcar to work, or just walked, and spent all my time with several wonderul employees while we were implementing a computer system called ALICE. That was also where I fell in love with the most beautifully trained Wisteria vine I'd ever seen.

Mardi Gras, Jazz Fest and the entire music scene interested me not at all. I had a small patch of land out back, 10'X30 feet in Algiers Point and I planted a garden. The climate was great and the dirt was Mississippi River bottomland black rather than red Georgia clay. By June of that year I headed back to Georgia and lived in a cabin on the river until I later bought a house.

I am glued to TV coverage about hurricane Katrina and New Orleans. I cannot imagine being a mother there and trying to tend to my children under devastating conditions. It makes me ashamed of all the whining I do over very stupid stuff.

I need to be on my knees praying for all those families...or more so for those without families. To me, family is everything no matter where I live.

The Dentist

I accomplished 17 dentist appointments today. Enough said.

Cj Today

Such a Complicated Child

Sensitive, touchy, moody, emotional, demanding, needy, pretty, insecure, athletic, aggressive, difficult, loving, very attached, loyal, easy to anger, lovable, sweet, vinegary, explosive temper, mama's little girl...such a handful. Vanessa took this self-portrait last night and I found it on the camera this morning. Vanessa still has such a tough time believing that she is loved. I have learned that this is a lifelong process, Vanessa is slowly learning that.

Impending Storm

Now we are hearing of windy conditions and 2-4 inches of rain headed our way from Hurricaine Katrina. Gotta go cut some roses since the blooms will take a beating and move the plants off the porch rail.

They are mainly amaryllis plants that ideally should go into the closet on the special shelves that Daniel built for me so that they can then bloom at Christmas. I am usually way behind schedule and don't force them into dormancy until late September because I REALLY need to see blooms in Janurary.

Sweet Autumn Clematis

Five fast years ago I adopted a sib group of 7 children, now ages 8-18. At the same time I planted 7 Sweet Autumn Clematis vines around the pool fence to commemorate the addition of these kids to our family. These vines, like the kids, have fourished, grown and blossomed.

Stormy Monday

Tabby and Fernando have a tough time each morning letting all the other kids go to school. They whine, argue, cry and flounce around the house both in fear and in anger that the other children will never come home. Tabby emotionally exhausted herself and fell asleep in my arms by 9:15 this morning. Fortunately Cristy walked in right then between classes and I was able to run get more groceries. I bought 10 gallons of milk Thursday night, 5 gallons Sunday after church and by Monday morning we had zero milk. I ran and bought another 10 gallons just now.

Now I have to find someone to fix this wheel, tire and rim.

A Trying Week

Besides the valve gate on the pump going out and the microwave burning up this week, this morning I got 24 kids up, dressed and ready for church by 7:50 am. I chose early service today since we had a guest preacher who draws a huge crowd. He's my former pastor. In the early 1980s he was instrumental in all the changes in my life, a true mentor and an inspiration beyond words. I just couldn't wait to get to church today.

We loaded up the bus and got a mile away as I fussed and complained about what a really bumpy ride this seemed to be. Duh...flat tire, rear end to the bus dragging. Somehow I sorta kept on smiling and drove on the rim back home down dirt roads. Loaded 15 kids up, dropped them off at church, returned home for the other 9 and got to church only 30 minutes late.

Sarah was waiting for me out front to tell me that most of the seats were taken and she'd scattered the kids appropriately. She had on her usual funky vintage fashion dress and looked fabulous. I was frayed, aggravated and snarling. Our darling friend, Beth, high-tailed it the other way when she saw the steam coming out of my ears and I apologized to her after the service.

David's preaching was well worth the hassle it took to get there. He has the ability, the annointing actually, to pinpoint all that's happened during the week and Biblically teach all that we, as human beings, need to know and do. He later told me that his Atlanta church now has video streaming on its website. Guess where I'm headed?

When he left for a big church in Atlanta 14 years ago I cried for weeks and months. Once you've had a pastor so full of knowledge, leadership and the Holy Spirit, it's impossible to think of Sundays without that anymore.

I felt like I went into a decade-long dry spell spiritually but for the past several years our church has been blessed by a young and on-fire pastor once again. I have two other pastors that I've been with on a fairly consistent basis for more than 20 years and I'm grateful for them. Tracy, in particular, has been consistently helpful to be in terms of support and guidance as has his wife Lisa. I've been blessed by some wonderfully strong and knowledgeable church friends.

After church I called my friend, Barbara, who lives barely 40 miles north of New Orleans with a category 5 hurricane bearing down on them. I think I'll stay up all night praying for their safety.

Sweet Gabby and her sister, Aurora, both from Peru just brought me a wonderful cake they'd made. It is a Pan Dulce and is delicious.

Now I need to load up 10 kids or so to take Fabian back to the Ranch after a great weekend. Fabian has been sweet and clingy.

Positive Predictions

I learned this phrase yesterday at the ranch and I really like it. Instead of pointing out to my children if you steal, you'll likely end up in jail, I need to re-prase it all into a positive prediction.

The ranch has a new book coming out and it is chockfull of success stories of kids who came into the ranch all broken on the inside and after learning coping skills, undergoing therapy and with much prayer, The Ranch has subsequently produced a great many success stories.

I told Fabian on the way home, "Son, I see you in a new chapter of the next book". The chances of a sib group of 7 staying together and being adopted together as older children were slim. But they did it. The chances of all 7 succeeding in life with all the strikes gainst them from the start once seemed slim. However I "see" in my mind's eye, ALL of them suceeding and thriving. So far i have only had five years to stress that to them. It is starting to finally sink in that they finally do have someone who loves them and really believes in them.

Optimistic by nature, affirming as my brother-in-law put it, I see a major part of my obligation to my children as being one of a cheerleader and an encourager. That's the fun part.

Juggling

With Mom and Dad traveling for the next 10 days I am grateful to have Sarah and Yolie to help me get through soccer, volleyball, cross-country, 20 dentist appointments, The Ranch and a trip to a psychiatric facility to visit Alex all this week.

No way to include yard sales this morning as 11 kids have soccer practice at 10 a.m.

Fabian is home for the weekend and happy as a clam.

Yolie, with an 8 week old infant, babysat yesterday so I could go participate in his therapy, meet his teachers, see the program and drive him home. The Ranch is using the Boy's Town curriculum which Emily had been telling me about. She's been very impressed with it and as I looked it over I can surely see why.

Sarah, Yoli and I will all drive different sets of kids to the dentist office for a 2 day span of teeth cleaning. Sarah's balancing big ole Ray on her hip, looking at her planner, comparing mine, we're consulting with Yolie and it's all do-able.

Creative House Painting

Tabby went down the hall, crayon in each hand, singing loudly and off-key on her way to pick up her shoes. I noticed after 60 or so seconds that the singing had stopped. I should have checked after 10 seconds as she rapidly, and with great glee, colored a wall in a bedroom that isn't hers.

Interestingly enough this is the room of a child who has a problem sometimes with feces smearing. So actually crayon painting is a step up from poop painting. He saw Dr. G this morning for a very productive session.

This is a usually very sweet-natured, overly helpful child who has huge loss issues. He's the oldest child in his sib group and he was always the responsible one when they were living on the streets. He took great care of his sibs who were all toddlers at the time and he was barely 5 or 6. He has carried a massive amount of stress for years and he is slooooowly letting me be the mom. He is sloooooowly learning to trust me and he absolutely despises change of any kind.

Being a grade older now he has had to leave his very nurturing and supportive elementary school for an equally as wonderful middle school. But it is still change. That I was prepared to deal with, and I even saw that coming.

What I should have seen, but absolutely did not even take into consideration one iota, was the fact that he took Fabian's leaving for The Ranch very, very hard. Fabian is not his birth sib. He never once mentioned that to me but he poured it all out for Dr. G. I should have been more perceptive. Pervasive loss issues, deep-seated fear of change, and the usual deep fear each child here feels regarding the possible loss of mom, family and home...where are my brains???

This is another illustration why all adoptive families of older formerly stressed-out, neglected and abused children MUST take advantage of a mental health professional's abilities to cut through the crap (poor choice of word) and get to the root of each child's issues. These darling children can put on a great front out in public and, in my experience, have found our home to be an accepting place to act out their issues in the hopes of each issue being resolved in a positive manner. Dr. G has spent years with us uncovering layer after layer of hurt, anger and fear. He has helped me see, cope, and understand a tremendous amount of behavioral issues that have resulted from their pain.

I can't crayon over it, apply band-aids, or brush off these behaviors but I can continue to seek resources, help, and services to help my children recover from their past.

Three Fourth Graders

The lady who colors my black roots yellow every three months whether they need it or not once said to me that she does the hair of a lot of very bored with life women. I may be busy and even over worked but surely not bored.

I wish the world would freeze for a 24 hour period. No one moving but me and let me try and catch up with the dishes, the laundry, the housecleaning. I wish I didn't need any sleep and I could floodlight the gardens and work at night. I'm against light pollution so that isn't feasible. I believe that artificial lights at night disrupt the natural cycles of plants.

Three fourth graders bring a lot of light into my life on a daily basis. CW has been with me all his life and has a great deal of personal self-confidence. Allen looks to CW to be the leader although Allen is 8 months older. Allen had a tough early start in life and lost a good many care-takers in his first four years. Fortunately the seven of his brothers and sisters were kept together by their devoted caseworkers, Shana and Patti, who were determined to find them an adoptive home together.

Chuy moved in two years later with his other siblings. Chuy is in the gifted class and is quite an unusual guy. He reminds me a lot of Daniel at that age. I treasure this age because I know from all my other kids how fleeting these young years are and then they are grown and independent. Well, grown at least.

But if the world could freeze for an hour a day I'd get a lot more done.

Lawn Gliders

If I'm smart enough to balance our budget and make it work for a large family why don't I have the wherewithall to get my big foot out of the way when photographing a beautiful Hibiscus?

And in my spare time I am going to refurbish this wonderful lawn glider that we got at a yard sale.

Fairness

I got the right group of kids to the right soccer practice on time last night after feeding everyone a great supper. While the kids practiced with their coach, Jack and I ran to Bell's to get another 10 gallons of milk plus it was my turn to provide snacks for Miriam and Vanessa's volleyball game.

After soccer practice the coach had the drinks and snacks for the team of 12 kids, six of which are my kids.

Another mom volunteered to provide snacks for Saturday's practice and I said I'd do it for next Thursday's practice. A different mom volunteered to set up the snack schedule. I said put me down for 6 times but the coach jumped in and said that it wasn't fair for me to have to do it 6 tmes, that he wanted to treat me like any other soccer mom.

That's not fair to the other soccer moms. If there were 6 different unrelated kids, the snacks would be divided up more ways. You do the math. I believe it is only fair that I do it 6 times. I am a little different than the other soccer moms and I don't want anyone else having to carry my load. I can do snacks 6 times and never blink an eye, I'd did snacks 6,000 times this summer. Big whoop.

I do need help sometimes, I can't be the line judge for the volleyball team on September 20th at an away game like I am scheduled since Deysi is due to have a baby that day and she wants me with her. I'll trade with someone and do their snack rotation instead.

Happy Trails

I took this picture yesterday while Cristy was trying to study. My house is closer to her classes than her house so I often get to see her during the day.

I would never post a picture of the family room after 20 something kids come galivanting in the door and sling 20 something bookbags that are vomiting papers alongside that many shoes, socks and all the Bubbas's shirts that they think they have to discard like a tight and unnecessary second skin after school each afternoon. I can't wait for Sarah, or someone, to comment on that particular run-on sentence.

The trail of stuff will extend through the kitchen, across the living room and down the halls. Kids will toss dirty clothes, if I'm lucky, into the laundry room and never hit any of the 5 empty laundry baskets designated for that purpose.

But I feel really fortunate to have water once again to keep the washing machine going full blast.

I have to serve supper (Black Beans and rice, heavy on the garlic) quickly and get the right group of kids to soccer practice tonight.

Water, water everywhere

Well, Praise God we have water. Preston and a guy who works on well pumps battled heat, fire ants and mosquitos last night and endured Joey and Jack chattering away and misplacing flashlights but they got the job done.

Flushing toilets is a sport here.

Gary, Ellen & Jim

My brother, Gary, on the left in this photo is Director of Sailing with the U.S. Olympics. This photo was taken in Izmir, Turkey sometime this week. Between all my children and Gary's job we haven't even seen each other in two years. He's headed off to China and I'm going to Wal-Mart. The contrast is pitiful isn't it?

We used to spent two weeks together every summer on a beach in North Carolina but I can't go that far anymore with all the kids and we have a pool now so we just stay home basically. Gary and I used to walk for miles and talk through our lives there on the beach. I miss that.

In this photo Gary is wearing the same shorts I seem to be wearing right now. Great minds think alike? Or is it more that Gary is as fashion-challenged as I am and we both just know that khaki matches any and everything. I blogged about Gary's narrow closet that I admire about a hundred posts ago.

My other brother, Jimbo, will be here next week while my parents drive up north to Gary's house for Labor Day. Gary won't be there but this wife and kids will be.

My mom had 4 kids in 4 years so my brothers and I are close in age. Our sister, Ellen, beat us all to Heaven nine years ago. Talk about missing someone.

NO WATER

In the middle of Tabby's bath with a headful of shampoo the pump to my well burned out. Slap burned out. We had to get a bucket of water out of the pool to rinse Tabby's hair.

My sweet, tired son-in-law came over to determine the problem. I have a great well and electricity was getting to it according to Preston (The Carnivore) and his meter. Another son-in-law just happened to drop by when Preston was lifting off the huge concrete well cover. Preston made a call to a buddy of his and I have a call in also to another well guy but it's 8 pm on Wednesday night.

Tomorrow morning I have to get 23 kids out the door with no water to even brush their teeth. Fortunately we do have clean clothes and I did get through supper but the dishwasher can't run.

Just a Cup of Coffee Please

Cristy came by this morning before she went to class. She wanted just a cup of coffee, regular not my turbo charged usual, but since someone was coming by to see me Cristy grabbed a broom to help me spiff up the house.

A lady, totally unrelated to adoption, came in my house with a file folder and a notepad. I didn't catch this but Yolie said Nando darted to my side with the wide-eyed fearful look. Didn't i just blog about this? How frightened my children are that some professional could walk in our door and move them to another home on a whim. I should have known better and had Nando be with Grandma but I just wasn't thinking. Cristy took Nando and Tabby into the living room and they were comforted. For several years after first moving here, Mayra wouldn't even come out of her room if there was a white lady visiting. Now five years later Mayra will see who is here but wil always hang back away from a visitor.

Gina and the Boys

Gina came by to go over some papers with Grandpa before she closes on her new house. The Bubbas all jumped up to show off their collective growth spurts and the fact they are now almost all taller than their 27 year old sister.

A Clean Kitchen

If no one is home.

Microwave Blow-Up

Sabrina asked last night what was that smell? Hard to tell in this house but as we sniffed around we discovered that the microwave, that is now not there on the left side, was burning.

We only got 2 1/2 years out of it but it has been used extremely often. Dog years for our appliances.

Jeep to the Rescue

I had supper on the table, kids fed and dishwashers roaring in time to get six kids on one soccer team to the park 15 minutes early. Am I efficient or what? I stood there all proud of myself watching other moms wildly rushing to get their kid to the very first team practice on time at 7pm. I was waiting to meet this year's coach.

Reality struck me like a lightening bolt when I realized my six 9 and 10 year old kids looked rather small next to the other kids and I realized that I brought the wrong group of kids. Tuesday night is for the 11 and 12 year olds to practice.

It was 6:59 so I called Daniel on my cell, "Daniel!" I screeched, "You gotta bail me out of looking stupid right now. Grab Mayra, Javy, Jose, Sabrina and Martin and bring them to the field wearing cleats, socks and shin guards. Don't speed, you have 45 seconds to do this PUH-LEEZE!"

I met the new coach sheepishly and told him what I'd done. Being an adoptive parent of two he didn't guffaw at me or anything. I'm gonna like this guy.

CW was watching the highway like a hawk, crowing when Daniel arrived with the right kids in his treasured jeep pictured above when Chuck had to once bail Daniel out of a creek on our property with his own jeep.

Daniel, bless his heart, didn't point out that he couldn't really help me to not look stupid, only that he could help me in that one moment of getting the right kids to the park. But I know how he thinks.

Popcorn

Getting 3 kids ages 1,2 & 3 to not wiggle as I attempted to take a cute picture can't happen without a degree of bluriness.

Tasks Completed

I got the window from the junkyard and completed Joey's Special Ed re-evaluation. Lots of concerns but, thankfully, lots of concerned adults involved in getting this boy through school. He is busted when he gets home from school as I was just made aware of a 60 on a test that he had the worksheet to study everything verbatim.

Second Junkyard Trip

Junkyard called yesterday afternoon and said they'd found my needed window but before I check my planner and go I want to mention that I am gratified by the comments, emails and phone calls about this blog.

Before I adopted anyone I read as many books as I could find about adoptive families.
I may or may not ever write a book but I do like keeping notes and photos here as I can print them out for my kids and grandkids. We forget on a day to day basis the drama, the comedy, the fun, the pain and all that we encounter and this blog will serve as our memory jogger.

I do want to encourage the other adoptive moms that read this blog to hang in there through all the many horrendous tough tmes that are bound to occur. They will still occur here also. I want to really encourage anyone wanting to adopt. The need for adoptive families is HUGE. I wouldn't take nothing for my journey now as the ole gospel song goes. This has been fun and will still be a blast.

I also appreciate all the teachers and other people who help me with my children, who obviously love and care for my kids who need all the love that is out there. My kids aren't easy to understand and I appreciate those who try and do so.

Adopting Older Children

When I began adopting children in the 1980's, Sarah was a teenager and an only child. We discussed the possibility of me adopting her a younger sister. I never planned to have 38 more children but this is how it has worked out, much to the delight of everyone in our family. Sarah has been my biggest analyst and my biggest supporter since that initial decision.

Vanessa, pictured here, came to me three weeks before her 10th birthday when I adopted her but also she had an 11 year old sister and a 12 year old brother(Edgar)...plus 4 other younger siblings.

Adopt America Network is putting together a team to increase the adoption of 11 year olds and older. Claudia and I will be on that team.

I've adopted children, all as siblings groups, from the ages of 2-12. My first group of sisters came from Honduras when they were 7, 9 and 11 (Deysi), then another group ages 7,8,11 and 12 (Cristy), later a group ages 6,8,and 11 (Yolie), in 1995 a group 4,5,9 and 12 (Jesse)...all before the aforementioned group with Edgar. Several other groups also included Joey at age 16...not really an adoption as he was part of an earlier sib group who needed more treatment back in Texas.

Many of my sibling groups have included pre-schoolers and in my experience, hands down, the pre-schoolers have been the most emotionally demanding in many unexpected ways. You'd think only hugs and cuddling would be needed in order to dispel their fears and insecurities but that has absolutely not been the case. Pre-schoolers don't get it at all. All they know is that they have lost their former caretaker(S). Pre-schoolers rage and destroy things in their anger that they can not verbalize. At times their crying is inconsolable, it goes on for hours, days and weeks. It is of the highest pitched decibel of a wail possible.

When Tony came here he was a non-verbal two year old with cerebal palsy. His rages have lasted for years. His is now nine years old and still frustrated at the physical limitations stamped on him via an inhalant abusing birth mom who was drunk when she arrived at a hospital to give birth to him. Since her other four children were already in foster care she went to the next county stumbling drunk in a futile attempt to escape CPS detection. Tony is small in stature and emotionally frustrated. I had a psych eval done on him last summer and his prognosis for success appears to be dismal. Being Pollyanna I refuse to accept this and will work hard to get him resources, services and help.

A young adoptee out of foster care is rarely toilet-trained. I've had kids in diapers almost until they started school. Many of my elementary school age kids still wear night diapers since night terrors and emotional disturbances preclude them from getting OUT of the bed to pee when it is dark. One of my daughters, now grown would sleep with her glasses on just in case someone came into her bedroom to molest her. She'd been in a foster home where that was routine. The foster home was eventually closed down but, as far as I know, this foster father was not prosecuted. This was 18 years ago and I shudder, no I puke, to think how many more children have since been victimized.

By contrast older children, although they'd never admit it then, are almost always glad to pass the Parent Label on to a capable adult who appears committed to their sibling group. Either they pass the torch willingly or they struggle with giving it up but it has seemed to me that within the first year the older child has stopped acting as The Parent and has quickly become a teenager. Almost 11 years old Jesse, now 23, gladly handed Sonny, Alex and Gito to me because he bonded quickly with his new brother, Joe.

Edgar, then 13 and now 18, plopped the baby of that group Jojo (then 3) in my lap and Edgar bounded upstairs to his very own room for the first time in his life. A teenager free from feeding and being responsible for the younger kids. A teenager who can play sports and relax. The younger kids in each sib group still, and always seem to continue into adulthood, to keep looking at that Formerly Parentified Older Sibling as their emotional barometer and a massively important Approval Grantor. Joe, now 22, has hardly allowed Yolie, now 25 to not parent him still. He'll go to her for the same advice that he knows he could have gotten from me BUT I WASN'T THERE when he formed that emotional attachment to Yolie who was holding him, feeding him and consoling him through their very difficult early years in Texas.

All of my children adopted before age 8 have zero memeories of their life in Texas which I find surprising. Do they just slam that door shut in their minds? Daniel's been here for 14 years, from age 6-20, and has filled his life full here with positive memories and great friends and internally feels like a good ole Georgia Boy and he is one certainly. Joe and Yolie both struggled with some terribly fearful memories but as the years pass I see them both physically struggling to let go of the past and enjoy this next generation since they now are both parents thmselves.

We talked about trust at The Ranch at our last family setting. Lori asked each kid who they'd trust to catch them. Total quiet for a minute as each one instantly wondered about me but then each confirmed that they now trusted me but, most surprisingly, Vanessa trusted Joey and Gito along with her bio siblings. Working through these trust issues is a minefield which doesn't explode at the therapist's office but later at home with no provocation whatsoever. I expect it to happen, that is textbook adoption, but I am always blinsided by it. These darling children are masters at keeping me on my toes which I never seem to be on right before The Explosion. Who though wouldn't be angry after all the stuff that has happened to them?


Deysi, Cristy, Yolie, Jesse, and Edgar all passed on the Mama role to me and became delightful children. It was bumpy with Cristy, an understatement that I will elaborate on later but the other four of these older adoptees were the easiest children in their respective sib groups and I am excited to be a part of this team at Adopt America Network to find, recruit families and then match them with older children desparately in need of parenting before it is too late.

Art Therapy and Case Workers

We have a great caseworker who's headed home to read this blog. She's pretty, young, non-threatening, insightful and has established a great rapport with all my kids, not just the five she is working with.

However as soon as she left this afternoon Paloma had a huge screaming rage that we already saw coming and a good many of my boys ages 9-16 quickly headed for the living room where Lily shared her new birthday art supplies. An art therapy group was born on the spot.

Caseworkers, no matter how skilled they are, still remain an emotional threat in the minds of adopted children. In MAPP training we were told that caseworkers were considered to be People Movers by the children that they visited. My children adore Paige, this worker, but they are wary and full of misbehavior on these days. She nevers brings in a notebook, she acts normal and responds quietly and smilingly to the kids. But she doesn't fool them for a minute. They know she has power, they've given her tons of power in their minds. They've mentally empowered her to do what others have done to them. They don't trust her. Sadly they don't fully trust me either for years and years. That's a difficult pill for me to swallow.

Many of my children have found relief from tension in a good ole coloring book as they make an imaginary world that they can control. The caseworker's visit dredges up all the feelings of loss of control, random moves, goodbyes, and losses over which they had zero control.

These boys are still sitting here, teeth clenched, painstakingly working on staying within the lines where their small world on paper is perfect and totally under their control.

Self-Soothing Behaviors

When Tabby moved in with us we questioned Memaw, her 10 year old sister, about Tabby's shirt-sucking behavior. Yolie immediately pegged it as a self-soothing behavior which just breaks my heart as I think about all the places Tabby has laid down her head and all the different places she has waked up at. When tired, stressed or distressed, angry or upset Tabby sucks on her shirt, every night she sucks on her nightshirt to go to sleep.

In this picture she is sucking on MY shirt and I'm wearing it. When she feels really stressed out only my shirt will do..and I have to be in the shirt. Jackie tried it once in wonderment, thinking maybe he's missed out on some treat in his five years on earth. A cotton shirt is not tasty and he seems to have just written it off now as one of Tabby's idiocyncrasies.

Tabby has been here nearly six months and she has grown confident, bossy and spoiled. Everyone caters to her and it is a joy to listen to her now always singing, humming, laughing and entertaining our family.

Then she'll go into that dark spot in her head and heart, that fearful part of her being, and need lap time and shirt time. She hates to get in the van and go anywhere. Yolie again pointed out that Van Riding represents being moved and that's her greatest fear. Tabby and Nando have deeply needed to be at home, not at a day care, but here where they are establishing their presence, their security and stability. They don't like it when their Memaw goes off to school, they are greatly relieved each afternoon when she returns home. They often just go and check on her whereabouts for their own relief at knowing she is here at home. I don't think I, as an adoptive mom, will ever have the capability to fully understand the depths of my children's fears, how it pervades every fiber of their being. I can only continue to prove and to show my love and committment every minute of every day.

Nessa's Birthday

Every day after school Vanessa asks me how was my day and what did I do? Every day she asks this. I don't know if she is interested, just being nice, is she concerned that I am over worked or suspicious that i don't have enough to do? I usually give her a quick rundown and in hearing what I did, it doesn't seem like all that much to me either. When I had a real job I'm certain that I managed my time better but I also didn't have 25 kids at home then nor 17 under the age of 11. Next month that will change to 17 under age 12 which sounds better to me. Every day it all seems to get easier.

I woke Vanessa up this morning and wished her a Happy 15th Birthday. Yesterday we went shopping for her birthday clothes together since she correctly thinks I couldnt possibly choose fashion well enough on my own. Vanessa put on one of her new outfits and sashayed out the door only to call me 10 minutes later and tell me she'd forgotten her gym shoes. Good move slick on a game day. She and Miriam play volleyball.

After getting 23 kids out the door I chase around a 2 and 3 year old while cleaning the house, washing clothes, planning supper and, today, finding a welder for my torn up lawnmower deck plus getting quotes on replacing the glass that Chuy broke out over8 months ago on my 1994 Honda.

One company quoted $411 and I actually screeched in disbelief. After many phone calls later I headed out the door to a junkyard to get a $50.00 window and I'll duct tape it on if I have to. I even asked the junkyard owner to try and hunt me up a piece of glass that was scratched or scribbled on and would thusn be cheaper. He snickered. Apparently our house is the only place with glass like that.

I drive 20 minutes down there after giving him the required two hours to find the car with the correct size glass only to hear, "We ain't had time to hunt for it yet." Well I ain't got time for wasted trips I scream inwardly. I had to put Tabby and Nando down for naps, get my mom to sit with them, get Vanessa's shoes to the high schhol all before heading to the junkyard. I get a grip, smile sweetly back and tell him I'll come back tomorrow in my free time.

I zoom to the grocery store, race around and toss 8 gallons of milk in the cart, get 25 pounds of potatoes and 10 pounds of pinto beans, 6 pounds of black beans and several pounds of miscelaneous beans, 12 pounds of cheese only to have to endure the clerk's remarks on the amount of food I'm buying. I just keep smiling and act like I'm gonna eat all this food all by myself.

Back home Tabby and Nando are still sleeping and didn't even miss me. The Honda still doesn't have a window but we do have groceries to replace the tens tons of foodstuff the kids ate this weekend and now I have an adoption worker coming over, supper to cook and a volleyball game this evening.

I don't know Nessa, I guess I just sit around and watch videos, eat ice cream bars and try to smooth out the lines in my face from the pillow I drooled on while napping all day?

Heavy Pocketbook

When one's stack of insurance cards outweighs one's cellphone, one's pocketbook is then, by obvious and unfair default, too heavy.

Church

Thank God for church. It is not something that the kids wake up on Sunday mornings and ask
me if we're going to church. They know we are going to church, I need to get my batteries recharged and they need more teaching from someone besides me.

I'd be just about the most obnoxious person on earth were it not for me going to church and learning how I am supposed to act in order to be a decent human being.

Sarah was our Sunday School greeter and Edgar was an usher today. I also got to talk to adults.

Neither of these pictures has anything to do with my blog except for the fact that I took these pictures this morning before church.

Marie, Devin and Millie

Last night I ended up taking Miss Lily to the Emergency Room with a painful earache. We got there at 6 pm but didn't leave until after 9 and we went to a nearby Kroger to fill her prescription. Kroger was packed at 9:30 at night. UGA's 34,000 students are back in town and I ran into my old friend Marie. We met 17 or 18 years ago and then worked in the same schol for 13 years and saw each other through a great deal of traumatic life changes.

Marie is the eptiome of a graciously beautiful Southern lady. She was even on a TV commercial for a restaurant one time. She is gorgeous, intelligent, poised and confident. I'm awkward, gangly, goofy and full of piss and vinegar so people must have wondered how she and I got along so well. But we did and as we bear hugged in Kroger I realized how much I'd been missing her.

I have had to give up all my 'friend time' over the years due to the demands of 39 kids and another dozen or so grandbabies. My grown kids are my friends and I'm grateful for them everyday but it's also nice to have friends that don't call me Mama.

I got to see Devin this summer also. It would seem that I only end up with drop dead gorgeous friends if you saw her. A tall, willowy, movie-star quality looks-possessing woman who has birthed 5 kids and still looks like an aerobics teacher. She was briefly here in Athens and we hadn't seen each other in six years. I'm looking like miles of dirt road with all the wear and tear on me but she looks more like a super model now than ever.

I'm still trying to find the time to see Millie and it just ocurred to me that all three of these women were English majors and all taught high school English when I first met them at work. Now Millie (also sweet, pretty and model slim after birthing two children) is a stay-at-home mom as is Devin. Marie went from teacher to administrator to the board office.

But again I digress from my point of how hard it is to maintain friends when children are so demanding. I miss my friends. I miss pooting around, cracking jokes, confiding and empathizing. I miss spending time with Marie, Devin and Millie.

I do NOT miss working at the school. I was highly stressed out during my last years of employment with the ceaseless demands of my family. I had 30 children when I retired. I barely ate and sleep was a yearned for luxury. I had lost my heart and my passion for being a media specialist particularly at that high school which seemed a war zone with the fights, the police presence, the gangs and all the problems.

I left that school after 13 years and went to a nearby middle school that seemed like heaven in contrast, like a private school with concerned parents, no fights and studious children. I must have had a sort of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder as I was still jumpy that entire school years, still on edge sleeping with one eye open and keeping that eye on problematic situations that never happened in my new peaceful school with the best principal ever.

I had a chance for early retirement at the end of that year and I jumped on it after a huge amount of prayer, pacing and debate. It cost me 14% for the rest of my life but what price for freedom?

Waking Up

Although I actually overslept until 6:45 am, I came downstairs to find orneriness in full swing. Squalling, irritable and bickering children made it absolutely impossible for me to even think about taking a dozen or so Eyeores with me to yard sales. Who'd volunteer to stay home with the other terrorists?

I drank an entire pot of coffee while settling various disagreements and mediating stupid squabbles until everyone agreed that they were simply way too ill-tempered as they adjusted to the new school year routine. Even Edgar was unusually touchy.

The heat index is expected to reach 11o degrees this afternoon so I think we will swim until noon before even our pool water reaches the boiling point.

The good news is that I heard from Sergi who wants me to print out the blogs and snail mail them to his ship which is somewhere near Australia at the moment. Sergi said that the blogs make him homesick beyond belief but he also cracks up at the antics he well remembers that are now being repeated by the kids still at home. He said he especially loved the story about Edgar and Tabby bickering about a sippy cup. I'd already forgotten bout this and I realize how important it is for my kids to write all this stuff down. Their history, before adoption, is/was sketchy at best, horrendously difficult at worst, and at least we are creating warm and fuzzy memeories now (usually) for them to tell their own children someday.

Miss Lily's Birthday

Today Lily is eight years old and has lived in this same house and gone to the same church her entire life. Her friend, Sophie, is in her third grade class and was also in her other classes and was a baby in the infant church nursery with Lily. No wonder Lily's sense of stability is so solid.

Jimbo

My brother, Jim, showing the kids how to build a sandcastle two years ago.

Goodwill

There is now a Goodwill Store in the town nearest to us. Martin inexplicably loves to go there. He chose this seersucker shirt that he loves for $2.00.

He searches through the racks and finds brand-name shirts like Polo, Gap, etc. He came home all excited because one of his close friends, who's quite well off, shops there also.

However Martin has succumed to the influence of his big brothers who wear T-shirts or undershirts under their nice shirts...doubling my wash load. I guess though that they make up for that by basically going shirtless all summer.

Martin is leaning over my shoulder as I type this approving the wording and asking that I point out that he is now 11 1/2 years old.