Dealing With Felonies

Jojo hollered at me, "Mama look out the window at those nutbird boys of yours!"

I responded,"Jojo I can't, " since I was up to my elbows in a huge pot of beans.

"Mama you CAN if you just believe!"

How can you argue with these kids? I couldn't be annoyed since I was now laughing at him.

Jonathan was glued to my side as we were having "umbilical cord therapy" where a child stays within a one foot radius of me for a duration doing what I do, when I do. It's our variation on regaining that precious lost time of when they weren't with me. It's intensive yet effective. I can't figure it out at all. Who'd want to hang with me between 4-6pm especially as I flap around trying to feed so many people? When we do it on a summer day or a Saturday I can't begin to explain how underfoot they then become.

I just blogged less than a week ago about having only 11 pounds of pinto beans from Publix. I'd bought another 12 pounds yesterday and everyone, this morning before school, was clamoring for another round of beans. Stressful times call for comfort cuisine.

I have no idea as to what I should do about Joey. I'm leaning toward allowing him to work this out on his own, his Texas workers are agreeing with me. I have a policy of not bailing people out, not enabling, not participating in their negative choices.

He pulled a stolen knife on another student at school...2 felony charges. This isn't Mickey Mouse stuff. It was stupid, impulsive, blow-hard and wrong.

I have to carefully consider how everything here affects everyone here. Joe, now 22, called me immediately with an underlying current of fear in his voice. The age old adopted child's greatest fear, "Do you still love me?" superimposed over Joey, yet connected to him as well. Even Yolie immediately sprang to Joey's defense...as a child of mine, not over what he'd done. Everyone needs my reassurance.

Just last week when I was in the hospital sitting by Sarah, Edgar texted me, "Don't worry, God will get us through this." I have to be reminded and reassured often as well. How much more must the children be in need of comfort?

Everyone else was, and is, concerned about how this could/could/should affect them. Preston and Sarah, still reeling from their loss, were particularly upset. Sarah worrying that she took too much of my time last week? Oh, no child, I go where I'm needed, when I'm needed. I'm resentful, that while Sarah needs me right now still, Joey ratchets up his behavior? I'm a mom 24-7 with no time-outs. I'm here, in your face, all the time. No one is vying for my attention as it is always intensely focused here at home like a laser beam.

If anything, I notice kids taking a short cut through the laundry room, instead of going through the kitchen, just to avoid me...especially girls who seem to think I might not approve of what they are wearing. It's as if our laundry room has an alarm bell, so often are they busted. I don't care if you miss the bus, you sure aren't going out the door like that. Of course, on a day that everything is topsy-turvy, I'll have kids, Teresa, assuming they can sneak something past me? I don't think so. I may be sad, preoccupied, and busy...but my eyes are everywhere. The rules and expectations have not changed just because it is crisis time. Nice try grilfriend.

The kids were shocked yesterday, tearful and upset. Edgar, Gito, and others were angry. Today they are numb, shut down about it, searching my face for answers, questioning me about outcomes I just don't know right now.

I answer everything as honestly, and as fully as I can, but this is uncharted territory.

Joey is not being charged, nor housed, as a juvenile; this is adult stuff with adult consequences, that I've been preaching and teaching at home ever since I became a mom in November of 1973.

Joe pulled a few good ones in his teens that required police intervention but nothing quite like this. This is quite the new low for us.

Another Large Family

This is another beautiful family that I've gotten to know over the last several years. CW looked at the picture and remarked something to the effect of that's not that many kids. What a perspective he has.

I'm impressed at all the white shirts...we probably couldn't find one single clean white shirt in our house.

Emails

Thanks to y'all who've emailed me today about this very difficult occurrence. It helps to know that, by sharing this misfortune, I'm helping some of you to cope with cruddy times that have also happened.

A special thanks to my dear friend who pointed out that she had 'one who should be in jail.'

Only another mother could've unintentionally cracked me up like that.

Dark Days Continuing

Sometimes I really gotta wonder how much God thinks I can handle? While I am wrapped up in Sarah's loss, and still tending to my kid's stark, mind-blowing fears about loss, we get another very huge blow that blindsides us and send us off track.

No one saw this coming, Joey's special ed teacher cried in the school parking lot to me yesterday. But when traumatized children earn successes, there are often self-sabotaging behaviors as they internally feel that they don't deserve good things to happen. Add in zero impulse control and severe emotional immaturity, the recipe simply sucks.

We get children who are severely emotionally damaged, often physically dsamaged as well, huge academic gaps, an inability to make good choices, or consider the cause and effect of behaviors, and we have children who literally have suffered brain damage from the alcohol or drugs that they ingested in utero. They look "normal" yet on the inside they are a slithering mass of insecurity, fear, profound sadness all the while suffering other feelings of unworthiness and deep-seated anger. That is only a partial list of what's going on with the children.

So Round Two of the acting out from my other children. The tears, the questions, and the disappointment, to put it mildly, last night was colossal.

I'll blog more later when I've dealt with everything. I feel it is important for other adoptive parents to understand how perilous, tenuous and daunting is this road to recovery for children who've been in the system so long.

Emily, owner/director of an adoption agency, asked me recently for suggestions for a talk to adoptive parents at a conference next month in Atlanta. I absolutely unloaded on her, and she, an adoptive parent herself, is mulling how to present reality without scaring people off. The same thing is true here with this blog.

How do I encourage and support parents, yet not frighten off prospective parents?

We will get through this, we always do. I will never gloss over how difficult this is though. I am human and I rant, rage and carry on internally as I don't think any of this is fair. But no one promised 'fair' to anyone.

When all this occurred yesterday, Yolie and Lena came flying over to help, Chuck showed up later from work.

By the time they got home so Yolie could cook a late supper for Chuck, their neighborhood association's president called to inform them that a man from the next county was a wanted fugitive and was heading this way. Considering we rarely lock doors and keep keys out in the car, Yolie called to let me know.

I attempted to keep this bit of irritating news from the children who were more than surprised to see me going room to room to shut and lock windows and doors.

I have no idea if they caught this guy or not, I was up most of the night worrying about Joey.

Joey, however, is safe and sound in our county's jail.

Not gross

As I emotionally search for things to keep the events of last week from over-taking me, I saw this book review in today's local paper and I was reminded of the 2-seater outhouse behind the wonderful farm house that I'd bought back in 1981 when Sarah was 8 years old.

That was our favorite house and Sarah's house now is an ode to that memory...but better, this house of hers even has a two-seater out back.

I was also sitting here thinking about muscular Fabian has become and how big he's getting. Yesterday he was doing back flips and other acrobatics on the trampoline to impress upon me how coordinated and athletic his body now is developing. I am impressed but not I am not always real bright.

After he'd done 5 beautiful back flips in a row I instantly figured he'd be dizzy and disoriented so I leapt forward like a clumsy tiger and tackled him down hard. Without even thinking he flipped me harder and tied me in a back-breaking knot.

Edgar remarked I should have known better. Of the two boys Edgar claims he treats me like he treats his hair...with care whereas... Fabian simply reacts.

GROSS!

This demands an exclamation mark, my apologies to the Punctuation Police, AKA Sarah.

All my kids kiss me often. We are affectionate. Jojo planted a particularly wet one on my cheek and I even felt compelled to remark about the moisture content of that particular slobbering sign of love.

Jojo replied in his monkey-like way, "Oh! That because my lip was bleeding."

I nearly puked.

This morning every single child, age 12 and under, 17 in all, felt obliged to provoke me in some way so that I would snap at them, correct their behavior, or simply lose it and holler when it finally dawned on me that everyone was participating in the make-mom-mad-mode so that they would then feel justified into bursting into the tears that have remained perilously close to the surface all week as they fretted over Sarah.

Edgar gave me the only decent kiss this morning...even Jack, Mr. Well Adjusted, gave me a chilly shoulder...remember I failed to protect them from this recent loss, now I gotta pay in their minds.

If I can step back and see the illogical thought processes cranking out in their minds, then I should be able to head trouble off at the pass.

Hunting Forks

Due to the number of woodland areas being reduced around here as a result of over-development, field mice are finding their way into my house on a regular basis. I have several barn cats but they're tending to the mice population out there, and Gito and Joey are busy setting, and emptying, traps in here. It's making me nuts.

I caught Nando accidently tossing his cereal bowl and spoon into the kitchen trashcan rather than the sink thereby illustrating to me clearly the explanation for our reduced silverware population. The other night at supper 3 boys inexplicably had to eat their spaghetti with a spoon while I tore the kitchen up searching for errant forks. I had to wait, and wash Vanessa's fork later, so that I could eat.

Mice population up, fork bins empty.

Now, even folks us...we're not gonna live like that.

My retirement check will arrive at midnight:01 in my bank account tomorrow night but, even I can go dig at Goodwill and get a handful of forks for less than a dollar. I have that much change on top of the washer, probably enough for several handfuls of forks.

Preston will return to work today and I'll hang with Sarah and Ray. Tax season is busy and stressful for Sarah, being a tax accountant, but she can drag her laptop wherever and get it all done. She managed to get to church yesterday. Although it was emotionally very tough for her, that first appearance is out of the way ,and she can now concentrate on her next steps. Tonight will be the one week mark, obviously not really much time for a recovery. So many people have shared their stories with Sarah. I've become painfully aware, and humbled by, the many times that I was not there for others.

It was bittersweet taking Fabian back to The Ranch. His behavior has dramatically improved and his academics are slowly climbing up to the below-average range. Our key word here is 'up'. Allen and Edgar went with me for the family session of all the boys there. All 3 of us were reluctant to say goodbye to him.

My picture of Tabby and CJ has nothing to do with this post but we are also missing the rechargable camera batteries, I need to search the house today for them. Search for the batteries, not Tabby and CJ.

Soothing Rain

Today it is supposed to rain all day and I find that soothing to me even if I do need to get 24 kids out the door by 9:15 a.m. for Sunday School and church.

Yesterday Joey teetered between being helpful and taking his grief out on me. I thought we should all go outside and invest our emotions into physical activity and he thought it'd be much better to snap at me. I simply said, "No Joey, you know how happy it makes me when we've put down manure or wood chips and then it rains?"

That might be a stupid question to ask anyone other than my kids, but Joey realized instantly that I would feel better and if mama feels better, everyone is relieved. I'm not going to mope around for months about this, I'm not allowed to do so, if I would dive into grief then all my kids would follow suit and it just wouldn't help Sarah, Preston, Ray or anyone.

It's a little early for hyacinths but Vanessa keeps checking out the kitchen picture window for the bulbs she planted there a couple of years ago. Hyacinths can survive in Georgia for several years, if heavily mulched, until they finally do succumb to our heat.

Tulips are way too delicate. One year, at about age 8, Sarah chose the beautiful 'Queen of the Night" and 'Firecracker' tulips from the catalog. We checked them daily and finally after a cold winter they shot up rapidly out of the ground to a height of maybe 6 inches, slung open their petals, and exploded them every whichaway as Sarah and I watched in dismay.

We have since learned however that daffodils last for decades here, indeed we still have some of the same ones that we moved from our original home before all the other children arrived. Moving to this house in 1993, Yolie and Cristy dug up thousands of bulbs and slammed them into the ground in a winding row that still exists in the back garden. We always pick masses of them to put all over the house for months in early spring.

Since Deysi and her husband, Carlos, and baby Alexander live in our doublewide across the way (along with Sonny) she asked me yesterday if I'd move some of my Shasta daisies to a bed in her front yard. Oh heck yeah I will as they reseed everywhere every year, all over the beds, the yard and the pathways. Sweet William, maybe my alltime favorite flower, also reseeds beautifully.

Yesterday Carlos was helping me limb up some trees to allow more sunlight onto a peach tree and a new garden bed when my other non-English speaking son-in-law arrived and started trash talking in Spanish as Carlos kept sawing limbs high up on a ladder and laughing. Joey, very attached to his brothers-in-law, was standing under the tree ready to catch until I advised him to back away and wait for the heavy limbs to fall.

Pobrecito, Sonny, had to work from 8 p.m. last night until 4 a.m. this morning. He wanted to nap yesterday but was unable to resist the warm weather, the ladder, saws, soccer and softball activities. Having an extra two dozen or so people around all day was just too much fun to resist. I double dawg guarantee Sonny will be at Sunday School as he has perfect attendance. He'll crash on a sofa at my house this afternoon, instead of his own, as I know he'll nap better surrounded by Bubbas clamoring all around him.

My kids can be so predictable that one of them mentioned I was overusing the phrase, "who didn't see that coming?" I'll try and learn some new descriptive words today while it rains.

Attempts at Returning to Normal

This beautiful family has a special needs baby girl that I matched with them sometime last fall.

I asked the mom if I could post their family picture here as I think all large family photos help us appear more normal.

I hardly got the word 'normal' out of my mouth when my friend, Tina, came over with her remaining 8 kids or so as the others were on a ski trip. Lots of fun for both her kids and mine. Helped bring us out of our funk.

Emily brought her sons and her grandson later plus my son-in-law, Jose, brought his four kids. Jose, Carlos, Sonny, Joey, Gito and Fabian kept a lot of kids happy all afternoon playing soccer and softball while I got some garden time. Lena trekked to the creek with CW and Martin only to have Jojo catch up to them with Nando trailing behind...without permission, so he earned a time out. He's an independent spitfire and I allow him a lot of freedom because we live fairly isolated but he knows that I have to know where he is at every minute.

I have a lot of pent up emotions, and like a Bubba, physical aggression works for me also so I tackled Edgar all over the trampoline until I felt better. Truth is, he tossed me around like a rag doll but I needed all that slinging down, getting back up, and releasing energy. I was talking big like I had a chance. He wants a rematch tomorrow after church but he can forget it as I'm not wasting my Sunday morning shower sweating unless I'm working in the garden.

Edgar had come down this morning for his Saturday morning snuggle as he tries to regain our family's lost momentum. Javy is avoiding me in an over-obvious way, Pepe is overcompensating, Jonathan is trying to be the perfect child that is an unfamiliar road for him, Allen is absolutely glued in such an anxious way to me, the other kids are walking on eggshells and Jack came home early from school on Friday telling Yolie he was too sad about Sarah.

I had talked for a long time this morning to Sarah as she sorts through her emotions. She blogged this afternoon for the first time in a couple of months. I don't know what to say except this is tremendously difficult.

British Influences

My first mother-in-law, Peggy, was British. She was a very opinionated woman who somehow passed on her love for hot tea with milk to her granddaughter, Sarah. The thought of drinking that makes me gag.

Of course, Peggy and I often had conflicting opinions, me being way too goofy for her. The last time I saw her was five years ago here at my house for Sarah's wedding.

Both Peggy and her sweet Southern husband, Robert, have now passed away, and Sarah dreamed about them both one night in the hospital before Bailey was delivered.

This bargain book I am reading now is British and I often read British gardening books but never British literature and I don't really care for British TV shows or movies...it's just over my head usually.

This is an inspiring book in many ways and I just learned a neat tip for protecting my clematis roots from people like me that often end up yanking them up inadvertently.

But, more importantly, right now is this book's ability to crack me up with a Peggyism. This guy, Monty Don, has a production crew that will offer him a banana which is "a coded message meaning that I am either performing badly or becoming unreasonable, and perhaps my blood sugar levels need raising- and fast."

I am sure now that I will overuse this expression to the point of actually making my children bananas in the process. But it will be worth it as I snicker with glee.

Lord knows I needed a laugh right now.

Shoot...we are slap out of bananas, both figuratively and literally.

Telling Fabian

Picking Fabian up at The Ranch yesterday, I had the benefit of a therapist to tell him what had happened to Sarah this week. Jaw clenched tightly he absorbed the news and told us, after much prying, that he'd rather learn of news like this with family present. I had called The Ranch earlier in the week and we'd discussed how to tell him. Obviously this picture of him smiling was taken several weeks ago.

His therapist asked him how he dealt with losses but Fabian can choose to be totally non-verbal at times. I respond to loss somewhat like a dervish as I throw myself into activity, busyness, chores, etc until I am too exhausted to think about what I have no control over; what I can't "fix", what I can not make better for my children.

We've had no winter weather this winter. Usually I absolutely can not tolerate January, but this year it's been warm enough that my daylilies are putting out huge new growth and petulantly reminding me which ones I've neglected to divide as they spring up and bunch up in tight wads seemingly glaring at me reproachfully. Jeepers, it's not like I've been watching daytime TV or something. I finally got all 30 amaryllis tended to several months late.

Even in cold Januarys I can count on the narcissus in my front yard to bloom this week. I don't bother with crocus anymore because they are so dern miniscule but they do bloom early. Today will be beautiful before the rain that'll come tomorrow and I need some outside time dearly.

I had two beautiful jade plants in my bathroom window that I accidently knocked off and shattered their clay pots. I'd just finished counting up the 40 plants that I had in that tiny room and was congratulating myself on carefully squeezing them all in when I blew my theory with a twice resounding crash. I could have burst into tears, as the tears have stayed perilously close to the surface all week, but maybe resignation is taking over as I just stared balefully at the pieces on the floor, and I simply bemoaned my impending broom job.

Sarah, Preston and Ray came over yesterday for a few minutes in an attempt to restore some normalcy for Ray. Tabby, Nando, Alyssa and, even CJ, lit up excitedly as that wonderfully goofy child came flying in the door with his new light up shoes.

Yolie and Lena babysat while I ran to The Ranch, and naturally most of the kids came unglued in loud, destructive while I was gone. I walked in the house only to find the cacophony of confused and anxiety-ridden children acting out in the only way they know when they perceive that their world has been altered in some way. Its just going to take a lot of reassurance here to re-adjust yet again.

Miriam's managerial position with the wrestling team kept her out late last night as the team nearly went all the way to Atlanta. Sweet Edgar waited up for her, and then drove the mile and a half to pick her up, as I struggled to get some sleep so that I, too, can cope.

Burritos

When I told my friend Janet that I was cooking 11 pounds of beans, which was all Publix had on its shelf that day, she read to me from this Rick Bayless book that beans taste better when cooked in large amounts. This man cooks 33 pounds of black beans every day in one pot. How cool is that?

When I met Janet nearly 30 years ago she had Audrey's job at DFACS but in an older building. 30 years later Audrey is as frustrated now as Janet was then...and remained so throughout her entire career. How encouraging is that?

Sarah was a chubby blond toddler back then and I hated having to call Janet with all our bad news. It was amazingly comforting though to be read to from a bean cookbook.

The kids were happy to have our favorite comfort food as we attempt to get back to normal. CW ate so many bean burritos that he had to sleep on his back like a beached whale all night. Edgar came home grinning ear to ear when he smelled our spicy beans that he then smothered in jalapenos, as did I. Jalapenos do wonders for clearing out foggy brains.

Javy is still storming through the house, unwilling to apologize, which is non-negotiable in our family's hyper sense of accountability. Joey is sweet to Sarah, tense with the rest of us, Tabby and Nando are squabbling over every little thing in the house, Alyssa handed me her pacifer when I cried yesterday, and Allen has been like velcro to my side.

Our Unwanted Children

I don't want to use my real county name here as I'm kinda ashamed of us right now. We have a weekly newspaper that I've subscribed to for the last 30 years and today's BIG headline was _________'s Unwanted Children: Social workers say there are not enough foster homes in _______County to house children in need. There are 27 children in foster care.

Well I hope none of those 27 see this newspaper headline and learn that they are unwanted children. Or what about the 38 kids here who once were foster children? Or the adults in our community who may have spent time in foster care.

I could blog essay after essay regarding my utter dismay over the insensitivity here. We are a once rural county that has become uppity and affluent. Audrey's quote today simply sums up my feelings.

Our per capita income may be impressive yet we spend money on homes not children? Ouch.

My apologies to Audrey...linking isn't enough...I gotta lift that quote and use it here.

"Once you start to see through the myth of status, possessions, and unlimited consumption as a path to happiness, you'll find that you have all kinds of freedom and time. It's like a deal you can make with the universe: I'll give up greed for freedom. Then you can start putting your time to good use. -----David Edwards "Nothing to Lose But Our Illusions"

All Cried Out

Hmmm Yolie...Guess I am not all cried out....

Angry

I should remain calm, step back, and understand that my children feel a deep-seated need to push my buttons as it would be then OK in their minds to explode in tears. Maybe I should subtitle the blog. Big Mama Hollers: Everything You Didn't Want To Know About Adoption such as broken windows, feces smearing, punched in walls and other issues.

Last night after I cooked a huge supper that I didn't get to eat for several reasons such as no time, had to run get Miriam, and was dealing with squabbles, Javy informed me that he wasn't even going to eat and that I couldn't make him do so. Now I don't stand there and cook for two hours to have some pipsqueak tell me that. He was glaring at me with fire and hatred in his eyes. I lost it and now we have an injured kitchen chair plus I had to clean up what I'd thrown. I stomped off and realized instantly that I was now in the anger phase of grief. DUH. I came back, apologized to the other kids and stood in the kitchen sobbing.

I sobbed doing the dishes, folding the laundry, and watering my plants. I even cleaned the sink like FlyLady recommended and mentally thanked Claudia for getting my mind off my misery although I hate housework. Chuck came by and tended to details that prevented me from making a fool of myself in public, bailed my butt out of that one, for which I'm grateful.

Edgar called from track practice and asked if he could just drive directly to church or should he come home and take the older kids with him? I told him to just go on. His youth pastor had called and knew that Edgar would need some TLC as he's been trying to be strong for me. However when Edgar did come home later he saw the death notice in the newspaper and then went to lift weights as an emotionally cathartic activity.

Sarah read, in the hospital literature, that well-adjusted siblings should recover just fine from a loss such as she has suffered. Ray will be 2 next month and he is just happy to have Sarah home, he had no clue that she could have died or that Bailey didn't make it. Ray simply missed Sarah and Preston.

My children won't recover easily from this. Sarah is well adjusted, no Sarah was well-adjusted, now she is deeply grieving.

Joey and I went over to Sarah's house for a few minutes last night. Yolie and I have been shielding Sarah for the last week as she just didn't want to see anyone outside our family. Now she feels isolated and I will pass on any and all emails from anyone. Nancy in Iowa wrote a beautiful one about her own experience that just really spoke to Sarah, Sarah says she now needs to hear these as it is helping her to cope.

33 years ago this week Roe vs Wade came about. The irony is not lost on Sarah. 33 years ago I was pregnant with Sarah and I was only 18 years old. I'd been married barely 6 months when I discovered this fact, I was in college and not following after God as I was a rebellious Preacher's Kid. I briefly considered my options and fortunately, being so medically fearful and challenged, I continued with my unexpected pregnancy.

Just consider for a minute...that one choice I made put a tremendous amount of wheels in motion for the rest of my life. I was a stupid, self-obsessed 18 year old with NO CLUE how that one decision would impact the rest of my life and the next 38 children to come after Sarah.

I talked to Joe for a long time yesterday as he grapples with all this. Jesse has called 9 times from Iraq in 24 hours. Yolie is struggling to remain strong while I am unglued. The rest of my children are tiptoeing carefully around me, but watching me intently as I deal with grief.

While I am on the subject of ANGRY. I am angry that the 7 children who died in that Florida bus accident are being called "7 Adopted Children." Does the media think they should label the children as if that indicates a lesser amount of pain for the adoptive parents? What is the media trying to say? Yolie is spitting mad about that as well.

I may use the A word here as I hope that other adoptive parents will find understanding from our lives BUT, out in public, nobody better dare ask me or refer to the other 38 as my adopted children. These are my children period. They don't call Sarah their adopted sister. She is their sister and they are grieving alongside her.

Ironies in Life

My grandbaby was definitely too young to have survived even if there had not been other problems such as the amniotic fluid loss. That was obvious when we saw and held him. At some point I'll be able to accept that.

Tonight I got word that a 24 week preemie baby with paralyzed vocal cords and microcephy that has been in NICU since August is now in an adoptive family. I'd received information about this baby girl from Emily last week and another lady in AAN had a family so we have a match.

That really makes me happy. This week I've been about as sad as I have ever been in my life. I needed to feel good and this baby having a family gives me great comfort.

Words

Even when you know, it is impossible to be prepared for seeing your grandbaby's death notice in the newspaper. Because I only hear what I want to hear, I was terribly shocked this morning as I glanced through the obituaries.

On Sunday morning when the doctor had told us there was a one in a million chance for the baby, all I heard was the word one.

Next Day

Lena gave me this picture of my son, Jesse. His ship is right outside Iraq once again. Jesse has been keeping up with Sarah's week through Lena but he called me yesterday afternoon from his ship just for the emotional support he knew I needed. Lena had told me that Jesse was struggling with Sarah's ordeal.

Daniel called to tell me he was coming over. Translation: Mom get a grip, I know you need me but don't act like it. Reality: I needed his hug, his being here indicated his concern for everyone...just don't obsess, analyze, etc.

Pastor Tony had asked me in the hospital how my other children were doing and I tersely stated that, "adopted children do not deal well with loss." At the time I was fighting tears and Tony struggled to find the right words also to the effect that this loss was tough on us all, no matter how well adjusted we are/were. Yes, that's true as I was going down the hardest at the moment. As usual Yolie explains it best.

My earlier blogs had indicated that all was well, that Sarah was improving. We'd talked Sunday morning at 8:30 a.m. and then, within the next few minutes from one painful phone call, I'd had to run to the church, get Preston out of early service and make arrangements for the other 23 kids of mine plus Ray. It all fell on Yolie, Chuck, Lena and Audrey plus my parents.

Chuck later mentioned that he'd found Joey crying outside the church. In so many of our photos of grandchildren, Joey's holding them. He's extremely bonded to our next generation. When I left the kids I was not crying but little Tony told someone he knew this was bad because Mom was crying. Hyper-alert and vigilant, Tony sensed I was crying on the inside?

Jonathan and Paloma faced the next school day with a student teacher MINUS their very dear Miss Regina who would have just held them and hugged them in her reassuring manner. I got an email from a stanger, this new student teacher, detailing how difficult Paloma had been on Monday. Who didn't see that coming? Heck, she'd have been difficult just because Regina wasn't there, exclude the family pressure. Jonathan over-compensated by being an unheard of, near perfect, nerd.

From her hospital bed even Sarah remarked that it was going to be one tough day at the elementary school.

Joey, a high school student, was yet another concern. I kept calling and sending him over to Sarah's house to tend to her dogs in a transparent attempt to keep him occupied. Her little dog, Hitler, (did I say that out loud? Her name is Ruby) refused to leave the house and I told Preston's sister, George, please do not attempt to pick up the tyrant as she'd surely be bitten. The little Nazi dog doesn't bite Joey though. She'll snarl at me, and everyone else, but Joey charms her.

Preston's sister, George, is a neo-natal nurse at Emory University and stayed in the hospital these last two days with Sarah non-stop. I'm so medically challenged I probably cancelled her out, but she was priceless.

Joey was perfectly behaved for Yolie, Lena, Grandma and Audrey, even accompanying Audrey (a SOCIAL WORKER NO LESS) on a milk run for us. Joey was a teeth-bared, barracuda to me. You'd think when Big Mama finally straggles home with red, swollen eyes, gaunt and so brittle that Yolie snapped, "how much weight did you drop?" maybe Joey could be a little more supportive? Get real. This is the adoption arena and Joey holds me personally responsible for his world coming off it's axis this past week.

Ten year old Tony moaned that he missed my cooking since Grandma, a great cook, cooked Sunday and Monday. Jack melted down over going to school on Tuesday morning and we'd hit the 100th day of school which necessitates counting out 100 of something (Cheerios, raisins, popcorn...what EVER!) but my kids acted like it was the Golden Globes Ceremony and I'd blown their chances of winning. This is an activity, not an awards show for Pete's sake.

Martin and Sabrina came home from school yesterday snarling that they needed to be at another elementary school for a 4-H presentation. When they showed me proof, my pasted-on facade fell off as I realized they'd known for several weeks and MAYBE we could have put this on my planner??? So I fussed, they sulked, I apologized, and re-explained the need for careful planning and I got them there on time.

Since I fell asleep sitting straight up by 9:30 last night I realized that almost 17 year old Miriam forgot to wake me up when she came home from the wrestling match. Bull she forgot. She just wants me to correct her oversight so that she can explode in anger over what all we've been through this week that I apparently did not protect them from. Isn't that my JOB as a mom?

Unmerited Favor

Grace is God's unmerited favor and I've always stood strong on that promise. Today Beth quoted our mutual friend, Tracy's, version of grace as being, "the stuff we need." People have been asking what we need, and that's what we needed: the stuff God gives to get us through.

I know that I'm speaking for Sarah and Preston when I say that we truly do feel everyone's prayers surrounding us through this. I won't, though, say anymore about what Sarah feels, obviously she is devastated.

She was extremely sick and we could have lost her as well. I don't think I could have survived that. I hardly survived this. I think I was fairly strong until Bailey Scott arrived and then I was way too torn up from midnight until dawn.

I came home and had to explain it to my children. Edgar was sleeping on the sofa when I walked in so he got a real look at my grief, but the other children learned only that the baby boy, Sarah and Preston's son, went on to Heaven. He was just so small.

Yolie told me that the kids behaved perfectly after school yesterday...not even asking where I was. DANGER DANGER. Audrey blogged about Sunday's behavior of hyper-vigilance and the children were not even asking ANY questions of Yolie. When I told Claudia that they were being so good, her response indicated I'd have a bucketload of issues the next day to deal with. Yep...this I know all too well.

They saved it all for me and were total terrorists this afternoon and in to the evening. They are slap angry that we won't have that baby, and that anger is directed at me. I'm the one who is supposed to make everything right for them. They hold me responsible for everything. You know...kind of like the way that I treat God, praising him in the good times, angry when disappointed. At 51 I still struggle with mature spirituality but I never, ever doubt God. I don't always agree even though I know He knows best, I'm not particularly gracious to Him, and certainly nowhere as grateful as I should be.

And this is where grace comes in every time. His unmerited favor...His stuff...sees me through.

When I'm childish and raging at injustice...I still get it, I know that He has His hand in all I do. I have not budged from that assurance since August 23, 1982. I have not budged an inch and I simply don't care if that makes me seem narrow minded or limited. In reality I am energized, charged up, and unlimited except by my ownself.

Mine, and every parent's greatest fear is in losing a child. Watching my child lose a child was heartwrenching and holding that grandchild who will not walk on this earth ripped my guts out. I think they, my guts, are still laying on the hospital floor.

Yolie and I often discuss how much more intense our lives seem to be in such a large family. There is so much happening on a daily basis, so many needs to fill, and so much happiness usually to share. The thought came to me that if I'd only had one child, if Sarah had remained an only child past age 14, we'd still have dealt with this loss.

My pastors were by our sides throughout this, supportive, loving and just plain sweet to us. My sister-in-law's brother-in-law, a perionatologist (sp?) in a teaching hospital, explained everything clearly to me long distance, and all y'all's emails, calls, and prayers lifted us up through this time.

Yes, I believe all our prayers were answered, maybe not in the way that we prayed, but God ain't just a fire insurance policy. (Sorry I'm country) He knows best and I'm confidently hanging on for the ride of my life.

Sarah's Baby

Around midnight Sarah delivered a perfectly formed baby boy, Bailey Scott Beam, who weighed less than a pound. We did get to hold him and now he is in Heaven.

Please continue to pray for Sarah and her husband, Preston, as this has been a very difficult week.

I deeply appreciate all the calls, prayers, emails, and help that we were given by everyone.

A Treasure in Philadelphia

I can go to the site meter summary and see cities that people live in who are reading this blog. There's a fairly regular reader from Philadelphia and that is the person I am most envious of at this moment.

This month's Garden Design magazine talks about the new East Conservatory at Longwood Gardens. I can't even come up with a decent adjective as this is a staggeringly beautiful greenhouse. If I lived anywhere near Philadelphia I'd need a second job just to earn the admission money that I'd need daily for visits there.

As it is, The Georgia Botanical Gardens are located in Athens and I do get to stop in there when I'm flying through town. This time last year when our weather was not balmy and I was frustrated over the amount of time it was taking for my new kids to arrive, I ran over to their greenhouse, found a park bench and prayed my brains out until I felt calm enough to...continue waiting.

While my grown daughters, Yolie, Deysi, Marcela, and Cristy took care of Sarah, her baby Ray ran hard with the Bubbas, and I indulged myself in garden reading. There was no snow for snow tubing so Bronson came up with plan B and those kids are still up in NC until later tonight.


Edgar did not hang with me at all this morning. He sent me a photo to my computer, I suppose to remind me of what I was missing. Oh Brother. Save the drama for your girlfriend, it is wasted on me.

Daniel and Edgar would much prefer that we not burden them with the knowledge of Sarah's hospitalization. Their self-defense emotions have slammed shut. Sarah's such a strong woman that this is terrifying for them. Joe, Sonny and Joey have all sprung into action in tending to Sarah as have several sons in law Chuck, Carlos, and Chris.

I knew that emotionally Yolie was having a hard time but I thought it was because now that she is a mom this would dredge up her maternal fears. Off base as I am often known to be, her emotions instead involved the sense of loss that has plagued her since infancy, through childhood, adolescence and into adulthood.

We have been fear-free for nearly 24 hours now as Sarah is not running a fever, is finally responding to the IV antibiotics and fluid, and is in less pain. By the second day of hospitalization she had gained a whopping SEVEN pounds due to the fluid being injected into her. This is very encouraging and also, so far, her baby is making it. I thank everyone for their prayers, concern, phone calls and emails these last very tough days.

Quick Update

Things keep improving today with Sarah.

My friend Robin pointed out that when I heard 50-50 chance, I just added it together to come up with a 100% chance for the baby's survival.

I like that kind of thinking, wish I'd thought of it.

Sarah's mother-in-law is with her in the hospital right now while Yolie and Cristy are getting food for Sarah. We are so blessed.

Better News...and Fallout

Sarah called me early this morning with encouraging news from the hospital. Her fever is down, the pain has lessened and, most importantly, the baby is still there.

I was reading her the emails that y'all have sent and the comments, and she was teary about it. Thank you all so much and please keep on praying for her.

I also talked to my tour guide, Yolie, and asked her to blog as she is experiencing a complete gamut of emotions throughout this time.

Yolie helpfully reminded me that this has all been in the same week since Daniel moved out. It is true, as Claudia has pointed out to me, that my family has more stuff to deal with on a weekly basis, than some people deal with in years.

Because I was not home at 2:45 p.m. when the elementary kids got home, nor by 4 when second load arrived, there's going to be fallout. Factor in the fact that when I did get home (by 4:15 mind you) Ray was with me and my face showed my stress and tension...alarm bells were clanging in my kid's minds.

I'M the emotional barometer here and I need to present a calm exterior at all times to keep this ship on course. I was fighting tears and the phone kept ringing so the children were very unnerved to say the least. They know Sarah's in the hospital but I'm not presenting worse case scenarios to them, just that she is very sick.

When Sarah called me before 7 a.m. on a Saturday morning a crowd of children rushed around me to ask about her. Today it is much easier to be reassuring.

However, I already mentioned this to Yolie, I'll bet you ten dollars that I don't have (nor do I bet) that Edgar will not come downstairs by 8:30 this morning to cuddle on the sofa. He'll stay barricaded emotionally and physically in his room. He HATES to see me upset. He texted me 25 times yesterday but barely spoke to me at all once he got home after track practice.

Joey, bless his heart, sprung into helpful mode immediately when I walked in the door yesterday. Scotty is misbehaving just to get the negative attention that I am trying to re-direct on a daily basis, and Tabby is following me around with very long detailed paragraphs of what all she and Grandma did while I was gone yesterday. Tabby is quite attached to Ray's mom, Sarah, her big sister 29 years her senior, so I know this is very hard on her.

So today, being a Saturday, I'll try to tend to Sarah from home, get Sabrina, Lily and Paloma to the church as they are going to a puppet theatre in Atlanta with Miss Lisa, while our youth pastor, Bronson, is taking Vanessa, Miriam, Joey and Edgar snow-tubing up in the North Carolina mountains for the day. Having 7 kids gone all day will only add to my other children's stress level but learning to deal with stress appropriately is part of my parental duties. It is just exacerbated in children who have been traumatized.

Where they'll find snow in 60 degree weather is not on my list of worries today.

Last night I cooked ten pounds of various pasta that we had (rotini, ziti, etc) and we made, what they fondly refer to as ghetto spaghetti, with jalapenos, mushrooms, garlic, tomato sauce, black olives, and various cheeses. A favorite amongst everyone, they were all so appreciative you'd have thought we ordered dinner from a caterer. They all ate huge platefuls.

Sarah's Hospitalization Continued

Sarah will probably be hospitalized for several more days. They told her that she'd be hospitalized even if she wasn't pregnant. She has a seriously severe uterine infection. I went all over the internet reading about it and there just seems to be no exact cause. Her doctor used a cuss word explaining his inability to explain why.

We'll know more about the baby being OK by Sunday. The doctor gave her a 50-50 chance but me, being Pollyanna, just can't accept that. We need a lot of prayer. Sonny and I took Ray to see her all day while the kids were in school.

I'm so grateful to all Sarah's brothers and sisters for their calls, their visits and bringing treats to the hospital. Cristy walked in with a Planet Smoothie drink at the exact second Sarah was craving one. Marcela is sitting with her right now, and Yolie, Deysi and I are trying to figure out the best way to stay with her and take care of my kids and theirs also.

Her fever is still nearly 102, huge headache and severe pains; she's on IV fluids and IV antibiotics, doctor said it'd take over 48 hours until the antibiotics will make a difference.

Sarah's never been sick so this is aggravating to her, it's tax season and that's her job but, fortunately she works from home.

My Bubbas are doing a wonderful job of distracting Ray so that he doesn't fall apart about not seeing Sarah. His daddy, Preston, just took a totally exhausted toddler home.

Being a Know-It-All

If I am such a know-it-all, and I've spent decades perfecting this obnoxious part of my personality, then why didn't I again see the obvious? I blogged last week that Edgar would be upset over Daniel moving out.

Edgar has been short-tempered with me, irritable and edgy, and, of course, unbearable last night when I was upset about Sarah.

Did I step back emotionally and be understanding since that really wasn't the issue? Was I empathetic and loving?

Did I put myself in his shoes and think about how this perceived abandonment must have felt to him?

Are you KIDDING?

I flounced off after I snapped his head off for his rudeness.

I didn't remember that he was upset, I was 'in the moment' and perturbed that I couldn't count on him when I needed him.

I stood at the stove for over an hour cooking French toast, fed 24 people and ran out of bread when it was finally time for me to eat. Instead of feeling like a martyr I just figured oh the heck with it, my nerves are shot anyway. I can't eat and worry about Sarah, but my stomach was growling.

Before I even turned the burner off, Lisa called me and asked if I needed any bread. No kidding, just like that.

She lives in the next county over and was headed to Athens to shop but had several very large boxes of bread in her car for us. Unbelievable. And people wonder WHY my faith is rock solid strong?

Within 10 minutes Lisa was here with a car full of bread.

So Vanessa made me a hot pepper cheese sandwich while I returned some phone calls.

Turns out I can eat and worry about Sarah.

No news yet on Sarah, I'm taking Ray with me to see her this morning when Grandma gets back to watch Tabby, Nando and Alyssa.

I sure do appreciate y'all's prayers for her.

And Lisa's husband, Tracy, is headed to the Philippines today for a week and also needs prayer for safety, travel mercies and open doors.

Sarah

Sarah was hospitalized a little while ago with a possible severe uterine infection but we are not certain yet what is the exact cause or even the exact problem.
She's in her fourth month of pregnancy and we need prayer for a quick recovery and her baby's safety.
Yolie, Chuck, CJ, Joe and Lena are with her now, I'm going to take Ray Ray with me in the morning to visit her as she is missing him.

Who Knew?

When the school has a parent breakfast I always make certain that I attend. Alyssa came at 6:15 this morning but I also needed to get ready and have Tabby and Nando dressed so that we could get out at the school for the breakfast at 7:45. Normally I drop the kids off at school and I'm still in pjs, yesterday's makeup and a rat's nest for hair.

It was the third grade breakfast which would be Lily, Tony and Jojo.

So I asked Joey to not ride the bus but to stay and help me. Who knew that Joey would become so dependable? He's pictured here with Martin and I as the adoption attorney in Texas asked for a picture to show the judge for finalization.

Vanessa snapped this last night as we were heading out the door to church and I was wearing something other than my usual sweatshirt.

Martin, also pictured, is Joey's birth brother but I adopted him seven years ago along with another brother, Tony and their totally emotionally unattached sister, Teresa.

Alyssa adores Joey and was content to sit in his lap until we left the house at 7:30. I dropped Joey off at school at the same time that he'd would have gotten there by bus anyway.

Joey came home with news that he had talked to a Navy recruiter at lunch yesterday and thought he'd hit their web site and study for the ASVAB test. Taking that initiative is impressive for Joey. The recruiter even talked to him about doing the boot camp this summer before his senior year as he'll be 18 in September. Interestingly enough it was ME with the emotional reservations about NOT having Joey at home with me. He was excited and I was wary. I think someone has flipped the tables around here.

Sarah is terribly sick so after the breakfast I swung by to get Ray. I'm here now with a 1,2,3 and 4 year old but they are playing well together. Since Tabby is the baby of 39 kids, she really enjoys being older than some of my grandkids. She is bossy and motherly towards Alyssa, like Alyssa is her little baby doll and Ray is an overgrown infant to her. He might be a month shy of two, but he weighs more and is as tall as Tabitha. She's very verbal now, talkative, sings constantly, and is over inclined to very lengthy and descriptive explanations. Duh, guess she got that from me?

Last night before church I was still trying to tend to all my amarylli...3 months too late. I think I now have 30 different pots of them but this has been a 20 year accumulation. Martin grew this spider plant from a baby and he's quite proud of his accomplishment. He remarked that he could understand why I enjoyed growing plants so much. "Isn't this cool, Mom?" was his remark as he counted all the new leaves. I sure hope that I can pass on my 'gardening as therapy" feelings. Life is tough, find something you love to do. Several of my grown kids are already involved with houseplants and gardening. My parents and grandparents and great-grandparents gardened...I truly believe that when you see people you live with who enjoy gardening, then the feeling is passed down to you.

I heard a sportscaster say that, "sweat is the cologne of acoomplishment." I've been mulling that over in my head for hours as an impressive comment. For a gardener, that is music to the ears.




Yesterday Sarah and I though we heard Ray calling me Abuelita but it came out "Beebo" everytime I walked off or left the room. Mauri called me Alabrita for years. My son-in-law, Preston, is still tongue twisted and linguistically challenged so when he tells Ray we are going to my house it comes out as Agualiter.

I need to mention to Sarah that Ray just demanded half my oatmeal so tomorrow when she changes his diapers and wonders what the specks are, it'd be the unhulled sesame seeds and the flax seeds. How's that for a visual?

Ilustrating My Point

After I blogged the previous post about eating I received this text message from Edgar...by 8:30 a.m. Don't tell me family dinner isn't important to children.

More Aquarium Pictures...and Eating

Yesterday's email:

"This may seem strange, but I'm wondering if you would blog about what you eat! I am impressed with what you've said about how strong, healthy, and energetic you feel, and you seem to attribute that to how well you eat. I'd like to hear more!"

Actually I also am curious about what others eat, especially one of my nutritional heroes, Dr. Weil or Adelle Davis, or many other nutritional gurus. I look into other people's grocery carts and wonder how their food choices even sustain life on any level.

I got this email this morning but I've gotten several others asking for recipes. I am not a very good cook and don't have exciting recipes. I eat so low on the food chain as to be laughable. I similar to a catfish as in a bottomfeeder.

My friend, Emily, is reading about The China Study which details the many benefits of a plant-based diet. She also introduced me to another wonderful book by one of the heirs to the Baskin-Robbins ice cream fortune. The Food Revolution by John Robbins is an eye-opener; a page turner.

You can google fascinating nutritional information from all over the internet.

I only have about 10 different main meals. For example, red bean, corn and rice one night, Cuban black beans with garlic another, 12 pounds of pinto beans for either enchiladas, burritos or tacos, a 3 cheese lasagna, vegetable spaghetti, spinach quiche, eggplant casserole, a lentil dinner, veggie pizzas and upside down night where I cook breakfast for dinner. Truly if it were up to me I'd be even less imaginative. I'd eat oats for breakfast and sandwiches for lunch and supper.

I'm not a food purist and I can eat a big old chunk of cheesecake in a heartbeat. I don't have food rules. But, on the whole, I eat plant products in large amounts. Anyone reading my blog last summer may have noticed the buckets of blueberries, strawberries, raspberries, blackberries and raw figs that I put through my system. I eat cucumber, peppers, tomatoes, etc by the pound.

By mixing beans and rice, a grain and a legume, I get complete proteins but also through the nuts and seeds that I consume. I drink soy milk and also eat low-fat yogurt and other low-fat or fat free dairy products. Obviously, as I eat eggs also, I'm an ovo-lacto vegetarian. I will never give up cheese.

I am a vegetarian simply because I think meat tastes awful. I wouldn't go bite a cow or a pig on the butt, therefore I'm sure not going to eat their flesh, skin and fat. The smell alone makes me recoil in disgust.

The bottom line may be that my energy is not diluted by the digestion of heavy meat and fats? Or polluted by whatever is actually in meat. Maybe we aren't supposed to eat flesh. The very thought makes my stomach heave. Nowadays meat is so full of additives, preservatives, feed lot antibiotics, hormones and other chemicals. Yuck.

Or maybe, it's genetic for me as my 75 year old mom is also energetic. Or was it conditioning? I saw her always on the go so possibly I chose a busy life as well? My mom also eats like I do although she does occasionally eat meat whereas I NEVER, EVER would do so.

I also drink a lot of water, no sodas ever.

I crave whole foods and I get queasy if I eat many processed foods. I have eaten this way for nearly my entire life.

Interestingly enough my vegetarianism has not been a problem with my children. Maybe they are simply so glad that they have a mom who will cook for them every night that they eat what I put on the table without complaining? My grown kids come back and make requests for the comfort foods from their childhood here with me.

Speaking of grown kids, Daniel sent me this picture from his phone last night. He'd already called to tell me about this very big game. I know to not call Daniel today as UGA lost and he will not be in a very good mood. But cheer up son, in 28 days MLB pitchers and catchers will report to spring training.



Tony is 10 today, Monica is 22. I'm taking doughnuts for Tony's class at his request and I have an IEP meeting that will be almost enjoyable since Jose has worked so hard to improve his life.

Hmmm, My Baby's Daddy & Other Drama

Yesterday I went out to eat with my first former husband, his son, our daughter and our grandson. That wasn't the weird part. For me it was the fact that I was out with all white people. I live as a token minority in a majority Mexican family. He and I can enjoy a great meal since we both love good food, catch up on each other's family, and live harmoniously as grandparents to our darling grandson without any drama. He is married and I really like his wife and his other children.

And shouldn't it be that way with adults? I then spent the evening with some other adults that I simply cannot relate to very well. I was emotionally disengaged. Maybe I'm just too old, but at age 51, shouldn't adults have grown up and worked through "stuff"? Shouldn't life now be about meeting the needs of our children? Not making it be about me? What about personal responsibility and accountability?

Can we be proactive, positive and be about the business of working toward making this a better world? The entire 'die to self' concept put into action? Everyone has had stuff happen to them, let's move on, let's not wallow. What does whining teach our children?

My mind is very full of my family, making certain that everyone's needs are met, that everyone becomes successful in their own way and that I help them become independent. Yes, they were victims of the system but, as Yolie put it, that doesn't define who they are. Her words regarding the past were, " In some weird way, it's like an end to a chapter in our lives. We are no longer the kids who were hurt, we are the adults who chose not to let that define us." Strong emotional growth and progress that is gratifying to me, the parent.

My role is that of a nurturer and an encourager to my family. My daughter without fingers on her hand played the trumpet and completed college, my son who was a burn victim became a strong Navy man who went to war, and I have many other positive heroes within my family...overcomers all. We built on our strengths and became better people. It's a lifelong journey of 'constant, never-ending improvement'. CANI is the concept and I can't remember what book I read that in.

Yesterday a teacher, of two of my children, took three of my children to the new Georgia Aquarium. Obviously this is not something I can afford to do but her doing so is a perfect example of a proactive, positive, helpful kind of person. She saw a need and she filled it. Her grandchildren live in another state but instead of wallowing without them, she helped some other children on her day off. I absolutely admire her giving spirit and my children adore her. She's around my age but last night at supper, Joey barked, "Man! I thought she was in her thirties." Her joie de vivre makes her appear to be much younger, she is quite simply, a fun person. People want to be around her.

If more people would get outside of themselves like that, we'd have happier, more productive adults in this world. There are so many needs to fill for people, why would we choose to be needy and unhappy ourselves? That's no fun.

This may make me appear outwardly to be cold and unsympathetic toward other adults that I do not know very well, such as last night in a forced situation. I don't know how I am expected to act. The adults in my life, that I choose to spend time with, are successful, emotionally strong, and productive human beings; and, as such, they inspire, motivate and encourage me. I can relate to them in a warm and caring manner. If they, or I, face problems...we deal with the problem, not obsess about the problem. Find a solution, go to Plan B, or think of yet another option.

Adults who want to be professional victims, or who do not want to stretch and grow, do not seem very interesting to me. Life is way too short to spend it whining. All of us have been dealt issues, challenges and circumstances, and I believe that what we do with that is who we are.

My losses in life do not define me, nor do any failures inhibit me from forging onward in a very excited manner about the next adventure.

On of my favorite books from the 1960's is Think and Grow Rich by Napoleon Hill. One of his precepts is that we should chose a group of advisors, friends or confidants to divulge our plans to in order to seek wisdom. I totally agree with that and I have such a group. He even goes so far as to say that we should not confide in those who would be naysayers. I read coaching, leadership, and management books and in not one have I ever seen the suggestion to find a group to bellyache to. How unproductive would that be? It goes against my very grain, my being...as my parents raised me to be emotionally strong and resilient.

I find drama unnecessary, it only bogs down the process. I understand, and accept, that children, teens and young adults, may be somewhat needy and demanding as they are still forming who they will become. I want to continue to encourage all my children to grow and become even more productive people so that they will be content and satisfied with their lives. I want them all to learn that they themselves are crucial to the key of understanding themselves. I want to unlock and unleash their potential, not join them in any pity parties.

Personally I have a great deal of inner strength and do not feel the need for validation from others. I sit quietly in Sunday School content to just listen, my opinions are unnecessary, I want to learn from our teacher. I know what I think, I want to hear what she thinks. I can blog to get my own thoughts in order. Prayer is my all-time forum for greater understanding anyway. Duh.

The kids had a blast at the aquarium and talked all morning about their adventure yesterday with Mrs. Carr. My other children were not jealous, they were happy for Tony, Lily and Martin. Miss Lisa, at church, has remarked on how sharing my children are, if one gets candy, they've been known to split it a dozen ways with the other children in our family. My older kids would get new clothes for their birthday and share those same clothes before they'd even had a chance to wear them. Edgar turned down dinner at his girlfriend's house in order to camp with Fabian. Self-sacrifice is in itself fulfilling. Edgar and Fabian had a great time together as Fabian is making much better emotional choices lately and showing us more maturity and understanding.

I hope I continue to promote this sense of caring, sharing and being less self-involved within our family. It has served us well and knit us together in a solidly strong, secure manner.

Plenty of people think nothing of telling me that they are glad they are not me, what with all the demands of my family (which I find odd as I'd never tell anyone that I thought their family was a negative aspect). I'm gratified that my family does take up so much of my time if only to prevent me from becoming overly self-obsessed. There is work to be done 24-7, but that's good too as it keeps me busy, focused, and feeling productive.

Camping Brothers

Edgar didn't answer his cell phone which is a big no-no. When Mama's calling boy you better answer.

Martin and I hiked down to the creek, I was trying to sneak up on them but, of course, I fell in a hole and hollered which woke them up.

There's no cell phone service way down that hill and through the woods. That's the only excuse that I'LL accept.

Garden Books

Between yard sales, thrift stores, Goodwill, Ebay, used book stores and publishers overstock bins I have managed to amass a pretty good collection of gardening books. In the winter I read and re-read most of them over and over again. I often re-read old issues of Horticulture magazine and then search out their recommended books on the internet.

Today I finished reading this inspiring book although I did mutter throughout, these folks have no kids AND they have outside help. Jealous, ain't I?

Learning

Tony has a big adventure coming up today that I'll blog about tomorrow. Since Edgar took Gito, Fabian and Joey camping down by our creek last night I popped out of bed at 5:30 a.m. thinking about them. It only went to 45 degrees last night and they had a tent and sleeping bags. Since they are very good about hanging around the house, I let them have this adventure. I'm sure our five dogs went went them.

Yesterday in church I sat between Edgar and big ole Joe and thought about how thankful I was for my kids. They've given me headaches and heartaches but, overall, they've been a great bunch of entertainers.

During Christmas vacation Daniel didn't leave our house, or his pajamas, for five days straight. Sometimes it is just good to be at home. He recharged his emotional batteries during that time.

Tony is so excited about today that he too was up at the crack of dawn.

Jose, formerly a LOC 3, who raged on a daily basis for the first year that he lived with us, had himself a good old-fashioned meltdown last night regarding his older brother, Javy. Jose was madder than a wet hen because Javy was making wet, farting sounds with his mouth and Jose wanted to sleep. Jose dove out of his bed and launched himself into Javy's where they commenced to duke it out.

Joey and I pulled them apart as I have a very strict 'no hitting' rule. Y'all can wrestle up and down these halls til the cows come home but there is NO HITTING EVER, and I am not kidding.

They were both so angry that it took awhile to sort out the problem. Duh...it took about 20 minutes but then it occurred to me that since Daniel had just come back over and left again...abandonment issues prevailed. Jose's greatest fear is losing his bio sibs since he almost did back in Texas. So in Adoption 101, a child will strike out at those he's certain won't desert him...though it IS his greatest fear. Hey, this doesn't have to make sense, it just occurs on a near daily basis. For years I'd wail to Emily , their adoption worker, about how illogical this all was. She, who had years of experience, and textbook knowledge, would talk me down from every single episode until I learned to step back and disengage.

All this between Allen throwing up, unusual in itself, as my kids don't seem to get sick very often. Allen's fine this morning.

This morning Jose apologized first thing out of bed. Huge progress. Accountability, remorse, and some basic understanding of his behavior after 43 months of re-direction, therapy and special ed classes. It is improvements like these that keep me going.

No school today, MLK Holiday, so of course, the kids have all popped out of bed without any prompting.

We'll have to take Fabian back to The Ranch this evening after a great, 3 day weekend with him. I am also so thankful for his fast progress.

Toilets...Or not using one

I had an email from a mom who is considering adding someone to her family that smears feces and pees everywhere. She wasn't sure if we'd encountered that or not.

I find that interesting. That thought that I hadn't encountered it after the adoption of 38 special needs (due to race, age, issues and sib group classification) kids? Yes, I have encountered it quite a few times.

I haven't blogged much about it since it isn't occurring right now and I'm an out-of-sight-out-of-mind kinda girl. It's funny how bogged down at times our home was with the bedwetting, it very slowly disappears, and I've hardly noticed. I've had kids wet the bed until well in their teens. I've kept some children in night time diaper pull-ups for a long time. This is normal for a family like ours.

I have found turds where they don't belong and wet areas of the house due to the non-housebroken children. This is not a fun part of parenting.

These examples of behavior usually indicate a fairly serious underlying issue and I'd advise, beg, cajole or whatever to parents to take this seriously and seek professional help.

The bed-wetting seems almost normal when you compare it against feces-smearing.

Yolie once explained that peculiar behavior to me. It is as if the child is trying to demonstrate to someone, "My life is crap, here is some crap, look at this crap, smell the crap, smear the crap,"etc but Yolie used a harsher word. This after she completed her Master's degree in Social Work and one of my newer children at the time was "finger painting" his bedroom wall with an unacceptable substance.

This is where some middle class parents might scream in disgust and disrupt an adoption. Though I may obviously be disgusted with the behavior, I also felt a strong desire to try and help the child. I would always seeks professional help, this isn't necessarily something a parent can just hug a child through until recovery.

It wasn't until after I started raising some of the grandchildren from infancy that I got to thinking about the severe damage that occurs from just the multiple caretakers...not even factoring in the abuse and neglect. I'd look at my babies and marvel at their abilities to attach and it'd make me think about my other children that had not been allowed to form lengthy attachments due to physical moves, emotional detachment or unavailability. Children are simply so needy, for all the basics and so much more.

My children who came out of the foster care system simply did not ever have those needs met and I need to spend the rest of their childhoods repairing that.

I was thinking last night that even though I've lived with Daniel for nearly 15 years, it simply wasn't long enough. It reminds me how little actual time I have with my kids since almost all of them were adopted as 'older children". So little time and so much to learn which is also hampered by what they need to unlearn such as distrust, fear and anger.

Quickly Processing My Emotions

As usual, Yolie wrote an interesting blog, this time about Daniel.

My friend Merilee, mom of this beautiful family, said to me today, "I think it's hard to see the good get good enough to leave our protection and safety. We signed up for life. We committed to them forever, never really knowing who would heal and who wouldn't. The ones that don't heal as quickly make us cry because we are sad for them. The ones that become what we expect and more make us cry because we are proud. Isn't that right?"

I have commiserated with a couple of moms, Misty and Merilee, who are also going through this difficult phase today and I have bellyached to Claudia. A poor choice of words considering what she's fixing to go through.

So by this evening I've gotten a grip, the kids have settled down and I'm only going to allow myself to be proud of Daniel.

But I sure am gonna miss living with him.

Glad I have all these other children here with me.

Gone...and the aftermath

Daniel left without drama, as is his usual way. He worked on the kid's computers, packed some stuff, gave me a hug and left his clothes in the washer...he'll be back soon.

I hugged him without drama, he hates drama. He knew better than to make a big deal about it with the other kids, he knows he'll see them later today, or tomorrow, and/or often.

He left, and I put my head on Edgar's chest and sobbed. Edgar wasn't real happy either.

I'm OK now. CW is hollering for Daniel's room to be his.

I gotta do this a couple of dozen more times.

The other kids have been right bad. Jonathan went down raging, everyone is short-tempered, and, worse yet, it's cold outside and I can't retreat to my gardens. Time to repot some plants. I hear Paloma starting to go off now....short fuses R us.

My Empty Nest

Last night was probably the last time I'll have 25 kids living at home. I thought about that last night when I, quite sadly, walked upstairs at 10 pm.

Daniel, age 20, is moving in with some guys at UGA very close to campus and, in the grand scheme of things, this is the adult thing for him to do. He has paid off his jeep 7 months early so he now has the money to support himself, and he'll be so much closer to his classes. He's taking a heavy course load but his job is close to my house so I'll still see him several times a week.

Sometimes that's all I see him now as he stays in town a lot and has a very different schedule from me.

He lived in a dorm last year, has been back home since May, and has been my adorable son since he was 6 years old.

I cried sitting with him on the sofa last night which is about as appropriate as cussing with the Pope. One just doesn't do that. Daniel abhores tears so I kept excusing myself and walking away but coming back with red eyes. He asked, "Mom did you do this when I moved to the dorm?"

No, I didn't, as a dorm has such a temporary feel to it. He's not even taking all his stuff with him now but, to me, he's moving on.

How on earth do moms with only two kids get through this?

It's just difficult for me to totally pour myself into their lives and then be done with it. I know I'm not done, I'm just sad to see an era pass. From September 20th, 1991, the day he turned 6, he was my baby until January 9, 1995 when Gito, then 3, moved in. Within another year I was raising an infant (CW) and then two more infants plus various toddlers who arrived with their older siblings. Daniel was an awesome big brother, he still is. His cell phone rings constantly from me and the other kids needing his expertise in geekiness. He always complies, always helps and always loves his family. Always.

So far I have survived Sarah, Carolina, Deysi, Saray, Marcela, Cristy, Gina, Monica, Sergi, Yolie, Joe, Jesse and Sonny all growing up and moving out, now Daniel (again). Alex has lived in a psych hospital nearly three years and Fabian is usually at The Ranch for his program. He is home this weekend, and every other weekend plus holidays and summers.

There are still 23 other kids living with me. Daniel's leaving won't be tumultuous. It affects me more than anyone as I depend on him so much. I just love him so much.

I got an email from another mom who's daughter went off to college and the other 10 kids are reverting in their behavior back to the negativesness that they first came to her exhibiting. I'm sure her kids, like mine at times, blame her for someone moving out as it stirs up their abandonment issues once again. So what to do? Step back and recognize that they are not angry at her but rather at the one(s) who left. Being that primal wound, it goes all the way back to the birth parents and other caretakers who have left, and their greatest fear is that she, the mom, will do what every one else has done. So they test her to see if she will do what they fear, they will push every single button and then up the ante. BTDT way too many times for comfort.

Yolie's leaving home wasn't pretty at age 18. I sobbed when Sarah moved out. My response was, "18 years went too fast!" as I wailed to her. I honestly couldn't wait for Cristy to leave, that's a very long story. Deysi was 23 when she moved out but she left angry. Jesse and Sergi joined the Navy before there was a war for me to worry about and Joe left in a rage. I was the target but not the cause of his rage. Each kid has been different yet there is always the underlying abandonment fears. The sibs who are left with me, especially their birth sibs, feel like an almost healed scab has been ripped back off. There is usally hell to pay.

There are often perios of estrangement after The Leaving. The kids who leave have no clue as how to deal with their new and shifting relationship with me. I become the mom who they don't live with, the mom who is not exactly still their day to day caretaker but still their nurturer. In their minds, thanks to foster care experiences, a relationship ENDS when the child moves. It's my job to ensure that the relationship now continues forever. It's a bumpy road.

Edgar kind of shut down about Daniel's leaving as they are very close. This dredges stuff up for Edgar, he's either going to be clingy or dismissive...it's too early for me to tell.

But here's what I see as I force myself to stand back and try to be objective. Our family is now very generational as my parents live in an attached addition to our house plus I have grandchildren. Four intertwined generations, knitted together in a really tight rug pattern. Daniel is a very secure son, who will be in and out of the house constantly. He will be very affectionate and still very loving. He is anchored here, he knows I won't move, I'll still be a very devoted mom to him. Somehow he knows that. He's the baby of his sib group and he has watched Joe and Yolie move on, become parents, and become adults. He knows that he will do the same.

The other 23 kids will be irritable, anxious and edgy. They will cling to me, push me away, we'll have some more bedwetting here and acting-out at school. Teachers will call, homework will suffer, and aggression will again increase. It'll stink for me as I deal with my own emotions and theirs.

But it will all blow ever and we'll settle down until the next time.

Shut The Cabinets

Therapy

Sonny went with me to The Ranch today for a family therapy session and to bring Fabian home. We're making progress, getting somewhere, everyone on the same page, and then my phone vibrated. I HAD to answer it as Grandma was home with the little kids and it was storming. I never ignore the cell phone with this many kids needing to be in touch with me. It is in my pocket from sunup to sundown, next to my bed all night.

Edgar, Daniel and Miriam tend to text message me the most but as i pulled away from a serious therapy session I opened my phone to find this picture which cracked me up so much I couldn't get a grip and emotionally return to the therapy session. I spent the remainder of the time just trying to keep a straight face and not resume the giggling.

Again I wonder if my kids came to me weird or did they become that way after so many years of living with me?

Too Blessed to Be Stressed

Maybe I'm full of platitudes, most likely so. I saw today's blog title on a bumper sticker and I have appropriated it for my own theme song. As people constantly remark to me, "I just don't know how you do it," I rarely wonder 'how' so much as 'why not?'. I talked to a lady yesterday who had retired from the school system yet soon went back to work as she found she had too much time on her hands. I wish.

Waiting on Edgar at a doctor's visit yesterday I was leafing through ladies magazine and read a blurb from a study that indicated women's blood pressure was found to be lower after hugs due to a hormone being released. It even called the hormone, oxytocin, which made me wonder if it were a misprint. I thought to myself that I ought to research it before I regurgitate it but, hey, this is a blog, not an academic study. The point being, we are a very affectionate family, both physically and verbally, and I do believe with assurance that it has helped us to be successful.

Everyday though brings its own set of problems. I was awakened late last night by a phone call from the psych hospital detailing my daughter's aggression toward staff personnel. I then tossed and turned unable to sleep but trying to remind myself, at least Fabian is doing so much better now.

The same magazine had an advertisement that stated, "you can't change a man unless he's in diapers." I cracked up about that, and can't think of any way to work it into my blog other than just sharing a laugh again with myself. Wish I'd known that before I married both times. Just kidding, they were the ones having to live with a live wire. I am an even more impossible woman now.

Lily left part of her homework on my coffee table which was my fault as our beautiful weather caused me to take leave of my senses yesterday. I could not bear to make my kids sit after school and read their 30 minutes when it was staggeringly warm and gorgeous outside. It seemed sinful to me to go inside so we didn't. I'll tack on 7 3/4 extra minutes everyday all next week, Monday through Thursday, to make up for it.

CW, Allen, Jose, Chuy and I tackled the Hillside Garden until it was time for me to reluctantly go in and cook supper. If I were childless I wouldn't eat, I'd keep working outside joyfully. I'd live on hot peper cheese, pickles, spinach and mushroom sandwiches on whole wheat bread washed down with a huge glass of water so it'd swell in my belly and I could keep on going. We have the sweetest, best tasting well water on earth, bar none, that I drink all day out of a 32 ounce glass. I truly believe that the water, as well as my usual good eating, all contributes to my energy level that knows no bounds.

Which is a good thing as I daily have boringly repetitious, mind-numbing chores that constantly need doing and re-doing. My attitude full of platitudes demanded that I do something positive about that fact so I put on my ipod and get it all done fast, as if it were exercise or something. It's that glass half-full attitude I have.

My sweet friend, Barbara, sent me Dennis Waitley's Psychology of Winning casette tapes that she had, listening to him is vastly motivational as he's smart as a tack and a driven, determined and disciplined man of knowledge. Thanks Barbara, as it got here when I was dragging my butt behind me.

Oh Brother!

Do I look happy about all this mess behind me?

Vigilance...Overly So

I think that I quit adopting children just in time. As I checked the camera this morning, the majority of pictures were of Alexander and then CJ, Alyssa and Chuy. Chuy is my 10 year old, the rest are my grandchildren.

I am never at a loss for something to blog as there are daily issues on display and problems and challenges arising constantly, but early this morning as I read Audrey's blog, yet another random thought exploded in my over-stuffed head.

The part that jumped out at me was the vigilance. Sometimes I am so surrounded by the trees that I don't see the forest so to speak. I have lived for nearly 20 years amongst the ever constant vigilance.

This seems so "normal" to me now that I either automatically answer the 100,000 questions each day or I head the questions off at the pass before they occur. I anticipate constantly what the needs are that will arise since I have lived this way so long that it all seems very routine to me.

However now that I have 14 grandbabies, with yet another on the way, it is slowly dawning on me that my grandbabies aren't, and won't be so ON ALERT. They will, as Yolie said yesterday, trust and expect that all their needs will be provided. Our next generation will be stable, safe and secure without the terror, the rages and the profound uncertainty that they live with now. Won't that feel good?

Even yesterday as Edgar read Yolie's blog and then saw where I'd discussed having a "talk" with him the night before he immediately reacted. His alarm bells clanged, he fussed at me, and then I told him to read the earlier entry and he'd see that I had not detailed what we'd discussed at all. OK Mr Hyper-Alert...calm down. I'll get a dozen or so texts from him today as he "checks" to see what I'm doing all day. I'm doing the usual...the laundry, the cooking, the cleaning, working on AAN matches, tending to houseplants, taking care of Tabby, Nando and Alyssa, etc. Routine to me, comforting to him. He'd already texted me this morning by 8:20 a.m. Vanessa, age 15, will ask me over and over this evening about my day as will most of the Bubbas.

CJ won't be overly worried about his mom Yolie. He'll intuitively expect her to do the usual while he's in school while Edgar worries internally that it could all change in a moment...thus his vigilance.

A side note about Yolie: she blogs about once a week. She spills her guts for us adoptive parents in her attempt to make us understand that which we do not know at all. Then it takes several days for her to emotinally recover from what she has divulged in order to help us deal with our adopted children. Lately she, Audrey and I have had several appreciative emails. I want to thank y'all for encouraging her. I want to thank Yolie for sharing.




I can literally see the wheels turning in my kid's heads as they hold the happy, loved, SECURE grandbabies. I can see what they are thinking. It's painful to us all to consider what my children missed out on in their early years before they were adopted. I have to remind myself of that constantly when their behavior indicates the unfairness of it all.

This is where the term 'armpit" kid comes in. I have armpit kids. I always have a child, or more often children, sitting so close as to be in my armpit, glued to my hip, hanging onto me, touching me, in my arms, on my lap or just clinging to me. They need this human touch, this affection in a very big way. Emotionally needy comes to mind.

Sometimes, if I allow it, it could be overwhelming to wallow in the grief. I have to teach them all to recover, to allow them to heal and to move forward in a positive manner for our next generation that is so rapidly increasing.

On a lighter note, I did get to attend the sanctuary class last night at church with ADULTS. What a treat for me. I think I'll endeavor to make this a habit as he, Pastor Tony, just began a 12 week teaching that was, as usual, fascinating. Sonny got off work at 7:30 and came to sit with me in that class. Armpit kid that he is.

Besides the fact that Claudia taught me a couple of cool computer things yesterday, Daniel came home with 256K more RAM for me that he'd bought from a friend. Am I uptown now or what?