Been Gone for Ten Years From This Church

Tabby's Pre-K class required that they dress up in a costume resembling what they wanted to be when they grew up. Sabrina put a bathrobe on Tabby and told her she was a stay-at-home mom, also giving her a baby doll to tote. A teacher came out to my truck after school to compliment Tabby's choice.

If my life gets anymore ironic, I'll likely lose my ability to hold my water. In the 1970s the last thing I aspired to was stay-at-home mama, I wanted a career. If I could rewind the last 30 years I'd now have chosen to be home with my kids rather than spending 25 years in the school system...but then I'd have had to stay married, not worth it then for me.

I've never discovered the tricky balance between independence and marriage, too late for me now, fortunately I'm happy in the way life has taken me.

I'd prefer my children to be able to care for their kids, I'm not a fan of baby jail (day care) knowing how much kids need their parents.

I read MS Magazine in the 70s, Voted for a Democrat and ignored church attendance for ten years, but life has a way of changing one's perspective in a big way.

I don't envy anyone their youth. Being 53 has its many many rewards such as total self-confidence bordering on blustery baloney, an ease with drama born from years of crisis upon disasters, and a pretty good mood overall finally understanding much of the big picture but still happily tap dancing through the dumb details.

Tonight I'm taking 16 kids to our old church for their festival, Yolie and Chuck are bringing Baby Yolie, Mauri and Blanca along with their own two kids. Chuck's parents still attend this wonderful church and I can't wait to see folks.

Detractors

I have readers who aren't Bible thumping evangelicals like me, but somehow they still at least like me enough to read and respond, or relate to what I do, somewhat.

I really, really like Joel Osteen. His detractors call him 'theology lite' yet I don't see them offering hope, inspiration or motivation to anyone. It's way more easy to criticize someone apparently than to help someone. I watched his interview on Larry King Live and couldn't believe the number of questions designed to bring Osteen down.

What's wrong with Osteen helping folks to live a better life? Why do we criticize him and look up to drunken, drug using, partying rock stars? I don't get it. I desperately need to be built up and encouraged and I've found a great many authors, preachers and speakers that I listen to for knowledge and encouragement.

John and Lisa Bevere will set you on fire and then I also have my rousing country gospel music.

Life beats me down at times but I best get back up swinging. I'm grateful that my heroes ignore their negative detractors who I picture in my mind as whiny, miserable mutants who don't ever want to be happy and satisfied. Sorry, that was kind of mean of me...now I'm acting like a detractor...it must be contagious, I'll go clean my brain out with a podcast.

Texas Monthly did a fairly balanced interview on Osteen and I'm so thankful for the availability of podcasts.

Silly Wabbit

Pulling myself outta this funk...get real Cindy...what kind of example am I setting for the kids who watch my every mood? Sarah and Yolie have been on me about it and rightfully so, since when did sadness, discouragement or despair get anyone anywhere?

I found a very inexpensive laptop and I bolted it down. It is still possible for someone to steal this and/or anything else. A raging kid can still hurt me, no one can protect themselves totally from everything - that's where faith comes in and I need to remember that I over abound with it.

The middle schoolers were aghast to see me cry over this song on the radio today. However since I only listen to music such as this, I truly believe my mind is daily cleansed of the negativity that would surely have overtaken me by now otherwise.

Miriam's feeling badly about the rude attitudes demonstrated to me lately, kissing my cheek last night, watching Allen and JoJo's soccer game, and being sociable with Yolie...all in stark contrast to her snootier than thou mood of last week.

I'm appalled at the bill of goods: the lies and deceitful messages sent to women today by the media. The skankiness, the whorish clothes...how will this ever help women learn to earn a decent living? Or to hold themselves in any sort of high regard with any semblance of self-esteem?

Raising teenage girls, fighting these battles, I'm always insisting on decency. Stressful but rewarding in the long run if I hang in there. I'm gratified to look at my older daughters, especially Saray and Cristy working so hard on their last year in college, Yolie and Sarah's superb parenting skills and involvement at church, Gina's inner strength after a severe emotional blow, Carolina's shrewdness at building her husband's business, Marcela's rise in the banking industry, Monica's maturity, and Deysi's struggles.

Life isn't easy, something I've always preached to my children; something they usually choose to learn the hard way, coming out on the other side in right good shape.

Of course I also have those who are angry at me over that which I cannot either control nor fix.

Claudia's two new boys seem delightful and I remember those initial days of a new placement, the excitement and wonderfully warm feelings. I envy her that right now even though I feel in no way called to do the same.

I refuse to set limitations on myself. My gut tells me no more children but that's not a limitation, that's a learned reality, a feeling God has given me as I intuitively comprehend how much work I still have here at home to educate, encourage and inspire my children to be all they can be...and then's there my grandbabies. CJ wakes from his nap each day questioning Yolie about going to Bita's house. (Some can't quite pronounce Abuelita.) Alexander flings himself in my arms, Ray's thrilled to jump in my truck and go places. Getting my tough, traumatized, damaged children through their childhoods reaps tremendous rewards in the form of my pride in their eventual successes.

Sarah has studied enough forensic accounting to be able to reestablish my nerdy spreadsheets and Quicken checkbook. Having spent 20 years myself studying Larry Burkett and Crown Ministries plus a billion secular sites, having this total loss of control, this inability to plan and understand where I am financially minute by minute has waylaid me massively.

What I do is hard enough, doing it without a roadmap, charts, and goals has been crippling, keeping me in bed until after 6 each morning; mournful and morose; even fearful and second guessing myself. But silly wabbit, that's not getting me anywhere and my inner drive has forced me to take stock, realize I've not lost anything of total value to me (my children) and to get busy trying to get back on top of things.

Lightly fried burritos with heavy doses of my home-grown fire hot pepper sauce has charged me up, I'm good to go again.

I really miss Edgar though, I miss Daniel like a right arm is gone, I saw Big Joe on Sunday, Jesse is too far away and Sergi's still mad at me for disallowing alcohol on my property.

Available in Spanish

Monica's mother-in-law is pictured here with her/our two grandbabies, Kortney and Alana.

Imagine my surprise today to discover a Spanish version of my blog.

We have three soccer games this evening plus Lily's Art Club and Sabrina's Cheerleading practice. Carefully planned out, I can get this all done and lightly brown tortillas in my huge black skillet to stuff with refried beans, sour cream, cheese, garlic, and fire hot pepper sauce from my garden. We might can hunt up enough tomatoes to chop but this drought has taken its toll on them.

Dee asked how we'd found a watermelon amongst the okra. Birds eat the seeds from the compost pile and poop them everywhere or those that survive the heat of the compost bed find themselves in other garden beds so fertile that a stick can sprout into a tree. I interplant to confuse the bad bugs and to increase the beneficial insect populations plus I'm always squeezing in plants in every square available inch.

We had 36 degree temperatures last night and I'm reluctant to go check the survivability of my peppers.

My long-term goal for the next fifty years as my kids grow up is to either grow enough food to help them all out, or to build and maintain garden beds on their property for their ease of picking. That kind of work brings me much joy and Lord knows my kids can eat their weight in strawberries, blackberries, figs, peppers, tomatoes and all the easy crops. Then there's the grandchildren that I want to please as well.

Javy helped me last night to bring in the hundreds of house plants from outside and our long expansive front porch. This'll take some creative rearranging to fit them in the house without having to resort to sofa tossing.

Miriam, who can't decide if she's grown or not, is living back at home with us again. Such a large house, many beds, bathrooms and facilities...I truly believe God gave me all these resources to share with my children.


Sabrina deeply desired to paint her bedroom purple.



CW and I tackled each other at the same time, he obviously won, and I went over backwards with the chair that flipped. He's still giggling.

I'd saved some hot boiled peanuts from the day before when I'd eaten two quart sacks of them, I wanted some for breakfast. I could eat them every day, so addictive are they. Such a delicacy, such a Southern thang...and looky here:

"BIRMINGHAM, Ala. (AP) - For lovers of boiled peanuts, there's some good news from the health front. A new study by a group of Huntsville researchers found that boiled peanuts bring out up to four times more chemicals that help protect against disease than raw, dry or oil-roasted nuts.

Lloyd Walker, chair of Alabama A&M University's Department of Food and Animal Sciences who co-authored the study, said these phytochemicals have antioxidant qualities that protect cells against the risk of degenerative diseases, including cancers, diabetes and heart disease."

The entire article is here.

This picture is Mauri, Lily, Memaw and Baby Yolie at the festival pigging out on junk food. I even ate two cupcakes that the kids had won, Ray kept winning and would share the cupcakes after he licked all the icing off.

Martin and Allen dyed their hair (above) and CJ got into the cupcakes as well. That was all on Sunday afternoon. Saturday evening was the firehouse shindig and on Halloween we'll go to a festival at our old church.

Again

Sarah's house gives me a great deal of peace. I'd been going over there last week to blog, now I'm just trying to remember bookmarks and adding them to the Bubba's computer.

I picked two large buckets of peppers just now. Ate an entire bucket for lunch - chopped with cheese, flax seeds and the three lone tomatoes I'd found. The other bucket contains the hot peppers that I'll jar up for winter. I also found a volunteer Charleston Grey watermelon amongst the okra, saving two excellent okra pods for next year.

Georgia is predicted to have an extended drought, I'll continue to mulch heavily as my garden was still productive and I'm going to figure out how to send my grey water and roof runoff out back.

I've had a totally silent day since the kids left this morning, the clicking of these keys seems too loud, I'm headed out to recycle a ton of very old magazines before I pick up Tabby. What's the point of holding on to these? I haven't touched them in ten years.

Cristy called to tell me she'd worked out next semester's schedule perfectly. Here comes her Bachelor's Degree. She's why I'm not that upset about Vanessa, these moods cycle, these Adoption Dances continue; the push-pull, rejecting me, and then coming back around on their own terms. OK, I can do this again.

No soccer games tonight, pinto beans and tacos for dinner.

My Only Desire

Both of these plates were made in kindergarten by two different children of mine. The one on the right, dark and angry, was made by an emotionally disturbed child who has never really gotten any better. My feelings are of ultimate sadness. It's been a tough 13 year journey in that regard.

I didn't blog all weekend because I was struggling with my own emotions, if I can't say anything nice, it might just be better to simmer alone. I'm frustrated over issues, disheartened over other events, and feeling guilty relief that other loads have slid off my back.

There's so much I don't blog about as we struggle to resolve everything. Cristy wanting to graduate from UGA in May, arguing with her advisor over a pre-requisite for a course, Some of my grown kids changing their living circumstances, moving forward, and my grandchildren are phenomenal.

At the church festival yesterday I found myself introducing Sarah to folks who didn't even know I had a grown kid, a white daughter, so used is everyone to my Hispanic family. She's fixing to be 34 in a few weeks, while Tabby will turn five...my oldest and my youngest, both delights to parent.

I've been somewhat debilitated and angry over unwarranted criticisms that drain me and cause Sarah to remind me to not harbor offenses, that doesn't help me at all. I deeply love my children and truly believe, with all my heart, that if I train them up in the way they should go they will not depart from it. I've never see God's word return void. My faith is rock solid. Sticks and stones cane break my bones but words should never hurt me as I gaze in pride at all my older children.

Daniel went to the Ga-Fla game which always make me fret over his safety, Big Joe came to the church Festival as did Carolina's children, plus all mine and it really was delightful.

We haven't yet had a first frost so my pepper plants are giving me about 40 peppers to eat a day...and I do so along with a lone Roma tomato yesterday. Everything else has succumbed to this horrific drought.

Folks have tried to talk me through emails and calls into accepting donations for a new laptop, but I truly can't make a move unless I totally feel that God has told me to do so. I simply need prayers from my prayer warriors out there that after 15 days of it, my laptop, being gone, that it'll reappear. I don't want a new one, I want my heart and soul that I poured into that particular one although please know that I appreciate your heartfelt entreaties to me.

When I complain here about finances, it is not to get anyone to pity me, but rather for prayers that thing's will turn out OK for us. I'd read The Cross and the Switchblade decades ago and what I took away from it was the feeling that God expected me to work hard for stuff and for results. He didn't give me all this energy, drive and determination for nothing. I absolutely covet the prayer covering that I constantly receive from y'all, and I am deeply, emotionally grateful for it. Thank you all so much for prayers for my family. You're awesome to do this for us.

Your prayers move the hands of God to do His Will and that too is my only desire.

Not Blogging Lately

Nothing wrong here, just super busy with soccer, everyone's homework and a huge church festival today.

Craving Peace

Tony'd taken photos of Lily's artwork while I pecked at the Bubba's computer, still frustrated over the loss of my laptop...like wake up in the middle of the night and fret over it stressed out, knowing anger is lessening my life span.

I'm still in a bit of a tailspin, drag myself up, and get knocked back down into the pit. Being real and honest here, it's not easy to do what I do.

The school bus driver called to complain about the rude attitudes of my middle schoolers who'd already whined to me that he was mean.

"Mean? You're implying to me that he makes y'all behave?" Hmm, whose side y'all think I'm gonna take?

I apologized to the man. This too-big-for-one's-britches syndrome that hits in middle school is laughable. Y'all think you're grown up when you're rude to an adult?

We had three discussions over that yesterday, one on the way to school this morning when I stupidly threatened to homeschool that whole crew, and they expressed an interest in it. Oh, heck no, I backed down. 25 years in the school system was enough for me, there's nothing left inside me to teach to anyone, I don't have the resources. Better if y'all learn to behave.

I now crave the solitude that I get from 8-2 each day. I need to heal, to buy groceries, and to get all the work done. I have meetings, conferences, treatment teams and other obligations each day that prevent me from gardening. Weeds have overtaken the big back garden that still spits out tomatoes and peppers that I hardly have time to eat.

Joey got a 120 day sentence again for violating probation. Last time he earned more time for bad behavior as he rages there as well. My own PTSD from living with him has hardly abated at all.

Vanessa moved out/ran away a week or so ago, she's still attending school but has quit her job, self-sabotaging as I've watched so many others do as well. It used to break my heart, knowing what they'd then suffer, now I view it differently. I'm more jaded, tired of their lava flow of hatred that is misdirected towards me, all their anger that I absorb while their birth parents party the days away, oblivious to the damage left behind.

Do my kids think I'll miss the chaos they've caused? That I'll yearn and pine for the stress? That I don't deeply crave some semblance of quiet?

Resentments and Offenses

LeAnn told me a great story the other day that I've obsessed over regarding allowing stuff to become obstacles in one's life. Sarah got on me yesterday for harboring resentments and my Quiet Time convicted me this morning as it always does.

I awoke at 2:19 this morning full of fear and heart-pounding anxiety, neither a pleasant nor an accustomed feeling, so I put on my flip flops and walked through the house checking on everyone. I'd found Scotty and Jonathan in their rooms, beds empty, wrapped in blankets on the floor head to head. Last night's post at adoption blogs.com kinda remarked on this odd phenomenon and I'd immediately had five comments which always reassures me; one person in particular describing it as a sensory issue, something I'd not explored. Hmmmm..........

So at two in the morning I prayed over issues, both mine and the kids, and specifically over other people; falling back asleep in time to feel good this morning yet my first phone call at 6:30ish involved a court hearing for Joey that a court officer had just found out about. No one is obligated to call the mom of an adult, some folks just like to help me which I greatly appreciate, this woman has now become a very good friend, but I couldn't get all the kids to school and be in court at 8 a.m. in the next county.

A cow had been hit by a truck, slowing down my van, school buses, indeed a long line of traffic for a rural area when I'd driven Tabby to Pre-K this morning, the fallen cow made me inexplicably sad...don't know where in my mind to go with that.

A lady had called me last night, another AAN specialist who has lived a parallel life to mine lately in which the psychotic child is believed over the normal mom. Accusations flew, an investigation followed, further stressing the mom and family, but what really burns me up is the professionals listening and giving credence to a child that kills animals. I'm again harboring offenses, my blood pressure rises, and I remain outraged on behalf of all us folks who go through such ordeals.

A stomach virus is ricocheting through our family. Both my dishwashers are leaking too bad to use so I'm hand washing all the dishes in blazing hot water so we don't spread this amongst each other.

Sarah's gone down, under the weather, so I drove her to the doctor, receiving several calls from the elementary school. Finally I picked up the two pretenders, JoJo and Jonathan, if only to give the school nurse a break from their harassment.

Tabby and Nando needed booster shots, and Martin had an orthodontic appointment so by the time I got groceries also, here it is two in the afternoon with 20 breakfast bowls still in the sink and no laundry done.

I'm cutting myself a little slack.

I've been so stressed out for such an extended length of time lately, crawling back up on top slowly, but exhaustion has set in so strongly that I sleep in until six each morning. None of my usual four o'clock rooster response sessions.

The grown kids that are being so sweet lately, are being really outstanding, but in my 17-21 age group, we're experiencing the ups and downs of learning to live on one's own when one has a much younger emotional age. One might chronologically be 21 but around 6 emotionally.

When one becomes a poor example for the younger kids, one needs to pay one's own rent somewhere else.

I'm still undecided about what to do regarding a computer for me, I really don't make any kind of move or decision until I feel I've heard from God. I'm hearing nothing right now, no matter how many Best Buy online ads I peruse.

When in doubt...don't. OK. I get it.

Thank God we are getting a little rain and I have 1/2 pound of Chilean Silver garlic to go plant.

Miss Montana

Two dentist appointments first thing in the morning, one teacher conference, and a massive blessing have kept me from the computer today. I'll blog more later but first we have Art Club and cheerleading practices, plus three soccer games in two different places AND Chuy's band concert all this evening.

A lady from Montana has been here today bringing us some huge blessings as she, Jon and Miss Cissy will be fixing up my house with a team of help. New carpet, painting, new light fixtures, kitchen range, doors and major plumbing jobs and much more that I've put off for years around here as I waded through the emotional trauma.

Last night Paloma and Jonathan were model citizens of some planet I'd never been to before, my mouth dropped open in astonishment as they were perfect angels while Scotty took up the slack, raging when I expressed my apparently overly prim disapproval of stuffing pissy clothes in the back of closets.

This lady, as pretty as Bette Midler with that same smile, really spoke into my life this afternoon, helped me get back on track, to remember why I do what I do, a super encourager with an interesting perspective. She's been in a tough inner city ministry, and has been through extreme betrayal - all outside the adoption and foster care world - which seems to be my only viewfinder. This lady, LeAnn, survived still smiling and ready to dive back in again after being so wounded by it all.

She presented an interesting analogy that pierced my thick skull, it made me realize how I've let some resentments turn into obstacles. I let it.

I needed to hear that today.

I'm always the first one awake around here, but usually the last one dressed for the day. I drive the kids to school in my pjs, but today I was dressed, face washed and teeth brushed before I woke anyone up this morning. Bad move on my part, suspicions aroused. Oh cwap, is this the day Mama finally leaves like every other mother/caretaker has done? Fear etched in their eyes; foot dragging, stomach-ache complaining en masse.

They knew I had to go to Atlanta, I'd prepared everyone, but before this morning would be half over, two teachers will have called that my kids are crying and/or wanting to come home. Sabrina was the first to go down with an imaginary upset stomach, with Tabby minutes later, crying to her teacher, "My mommy is gone! I want my mommy!"

Her teacher called me and I talked Tabby down from the ledge for the day.

Grandpa went with me, allowing an hour and a half to go 50 miles, getting hung up in Atlanta rush hour traffic, in the rain. We had rain. Whoa, it rained in Atlanta! Exclamation mark mandated in a hundred year drought.

In downtown Atlanta, an hour late for court, I kicked off my expensive shoes knowing I'd just slip and slide, and I ran barefoot through the streets of Atlanta, trying to not get soaked, looking like a black widow spider, all arms and legs with big feet hanging out, splashing through standing water like a kid with no sense.

By then 2 1/2 hours of traffic and cell calls, soaking wet and smelling like all the nasty cigarettes the criminals were smoking outside under a roof overhang, finally finding the correct courtroom in the courthouse now tragically and forever associated as the one thatBrain Nichols shot up, a couple of years ago, killing a judge, a clerk, a cop, and a federal agent.

Asking a courtroom assistant, I was told that my daughter been indicted while in jail and that there'd be a hearing sometime next week at the jail. She's charged as an adult so they don't have to notify a parent for this felonious assault on a cop.

Turning 18 in just three weeks, this doesn't bode well for her future. Maybe she's safer there than on the streets? Attacking a policeman scares me. I will not bail her out, I can not guarantee that she'll show up in court, and it is not safe for me to try and make her stay with us. She won't mind a cop with a gun, she'll never listen to me.

Walking back in my house at noon, another policeman calling me with some questions about my stolen laptop, telling me that another investigator said, "Hey," to me. My response was, "Oh please go give that man a hug from me."

"Heck no, I'm not hugging him. You want your laptop back or not?"

Well yeah, OK, I'll hug him my own self next time I see him. Jeepers.

Yesterday Daniel walked in the house to try and rewire what I'd torn apart after the lightening strike. I burst into tears hugging him, wrong move, that distresses him, but I got it together, fed him the last two eggplants I'd grown, and he's got this Bubba computer right here back up to speed.

Chuck helped, Big Joe came by telling me how crappy this was about my laptop and my other criminal kinfolk. "Them thugs at your old school were afraid of you, your own kids got no fear at all, do they?"

It's more than that, it's a lack of conscience, heart and soul, and I find it so ultimately discouraging that I'd boo-hooed again yesterday with Yolie, talked negatively on the phone to Paula instead of being Sally Sunshine, and snapped at both my parents.

And I don't even have time to go into the 'I met another birth mother of one of my children yesterday' story. That sure came out of left field...

Dry Taps

Looking like a freeshly squeezed, very aggravated old bat, but more than grateful for the love of my kids and grandkids.

Deysi referred to herself as Tia Loca, a big duh, from someone who's been bonkers on me lately. Mad at me for problems within, not speaking to me for months because her estranged husband "told on her" to another daughter. It didn't involve me in the least, nor my other kid, both of us wanting more than anything to remain aloof as we got sucked in, apologies given much later resulting in immediate forgiveness...as the world turns.

The stress is intense at times, thus the unflattering, but accurate, photo of me with Deysi's son.

Atlanta's water shortage is desperate, disaster level, and I'm so irked because nearly 40 years ago at Earth Day no one paid attention to the coming crisis. If only. If everyone would have spent the last decades mulching, composting, not shopping for recreation, but working on simplifying their lives, maybe our quality of life might have improved rather than millions now facing a dry fountain.

So many folks are spiritually dead, materialistically infatuated, and blind to the scarcities of resources. With an IQ higher than a trash can lid, anyone should be able to see what's in sight.

Is it not obvious that Miss Sunshine here hasn't had her Quiet Time this morning?

Making a Plan

My relationship for nearly 20 years with my now 30 year old daughter, Cristy, has been turbulent, a kind word for emotional warfare. We've battled mightily, both of us headstrong and determined. We've been estranged for long periods, we've been angry with each other, and she's struggled for so long with so many issues, not the least of which include all those early years of damage that left her feeling abandoned and rejected. Over a decade of abuse, neglect, more abuse in the foster care system, separation from her siblings, and an adoption disuption before I met her. She was terribly banged up when I adopted her and her three siblings.

I've written a lot over the last two years of her rebellion and find it too emotionally exhausting to go into at the moment; one commenter asked me to write about how everyone joined our family and I'll do so at some point.

Now I'm raising her three kids because she made a plan for them, her comment to me this morning was, "I never wanted for them to think of me like I think of Josie,"(her own birth mother). As an adult, she tangled with her birth mom and has worked through those issues somewhat. Does it ever end? These feelings of WHY ME that my children never understand completely? No, I don't think so.

My kids work through their anger for a very long time, then bits and pieces of forgiveness and some understanding; resignation to facts that happened and can't be changed, eventually resulting in some pity even as it dawns on them that this was generational dysfunction and they've overcome it, broken the cycle in most cases. My deepest held belief is that all my children will heal eventually.

Cristy picked Lily up this morning for an arts and crafts fair, Tony snapped this picture this morning, both of them are gifted artists and Cristy is now less than one year away from a Bachelor's Degree in Psychology as the ironies of it all wash over us like the soapsuds we so need to cleanse us from within, a dumb illustration maybe but it's all that comes to me this morning. Heck, I don't think, I just type; free association or simply the vomiting of my feelings each day. A free fall this morning.

Most of my kids don't really appreciate all my parenting struggles until they themselves become parents. Saray just emailed me a very sweet note; my grown kids are appalled at what all I've been going through, it just wasn't this tough with them. I only had one back then with police involvement.

I didn't go to yard sales this morning, felt it was pointless as everything gets stolen anyway.

"Are you having a hard time getting up in the morning?" Yolie'd jokingly questioned me, starting to ask the list of depression related symptoms on a TV ad that's played over and over around here. Hey we can laugh at me or worry about me; pointing fun at me is more entertaining.

Duh, yeah at times it's tough to re-establish my correct perspective each morning. Being recently called a maryr makes me want to not relate my thoughts, but hearing from embattled moms keeps me going. Not that I want any of y'all to have to struggle so hard either, your encouragement however to me enables me to keep spooning it back out also and I'm very grateful. Prayers have helped as well. Linda B, my internet is iffy and I can't open hotmail, half the time gmail won't load, and I've lost several other posts in my brain as I couldn't get online, but I feel your prayers.

I've been crippled into immobility at times lately, deeeply discouraged by the loss of my laptop, the subsequent lightening strike that messed up our cable connections, and the fact that I'm not able to do my other blog right now.

Sarah's Family

The older I get, the more I realize the worlds of pain that folks suffer through.

Yesterday in court, that I'm not ready to blog about, I was with two other women, friends I met in church more than 25 years ago who have birth children in trouble with the law; kids raised right since birth, loved immeasurably and treasured as they should have been, parented correctly in two parent families....what's there to rebel against? Both moms were in tears, one was a schoolteacher, my age, she's so sweet yet so destroyed, so much up against her yesterday that I literally blurted my awe at her ability to not fling herself over the stair landing, so much persecution as she fought to do the right thing for her 17 year old daughter.

The other mother had signed a jail bond, put her house up, and the 26 year old son didn't show up for court. She sobbed.

My child's case was continued.

Then Sarah's darling mother-in-law received devastating news that her niece, a beautiful, well-behaved only child, now a young adult, is fighting Stage 3 cancer. Please remember her in prayers for healing.

Life is hard, very, very hard for everyone. Many of you write to me and your lives are equally as daunting and challenging each day, terribly so and I pray for y'all as well. I've answered no one lately because I have no laptop, we've also been struck by lightening and whatever cable connection we once had is gone. I am over at Sarah's house for a minute right now, praying about what to do, well not praying here, but praying constantly, not getting any answer about proceeding in any specific direction, so I wait until I feel better about a decision of any sorts.

I'm climbing back up on top of my slag heap, remembering (DUH) that God's always in charge, that I learn the most while I'm going through challenging times, and that He will show me the way to go.

Jonathan and Scotty's team won their soccer game last night. The U14 team lost which was almost predictable as they all carried their teen-drama attitudes on their backs last night to the game, all except Martin who channeled his anger into monster kicks.

Gina, with her degree in public health, now a county restaurant inspector, called me on my cell while I was watching the game. "Mom, I'm so sorry it's been so hard for you lately. I love you." which was all the kick in the butt that I needed, that's all the validation that I need.

We parents watch our teenagers make terrible mistakes, confusing freedom with irresponsibility, and reaping negative consequences from ignorant choices. It breaks our hearts because we taught them better.

But my older children have taught me so much, encouraged and helped me, made me proud of them and, most importantly, given me so much hope.

Equipped

Sarah pointed out the irony in my inadvertent misspelling of the word genius in my last post. My proofread abilities went awry in my head this week and today Sarah pointed out, "Mom, your filter fell off," when a sorta bad word slipped out of my mouth.

It's been stressful lately, a mild word to use in describing my constant state of tears. Last night 26 year old Marcela wailed, "I want MY MOM back," you know the happy-go-lucky goofball I used to be.

"How do you think Sarah feels? I asked her. Jeepers Sarah really remembers my carefree youth. Marcela came over to hang around and tell me a funny story about Daniel.

Deysi, Sarah, Yolie and Carolina all dropping by, bringing me my darling grandbabies, something so positive to concentrate on.

I've lately been referred to, by someone who hated me without even knowing me, as a boastful martyr with a personality disorder which hurt my thin-skinned feelings. This other blogger is a good writer too, great style yet hurtful to me. Ouch, sorry if I've appeared that way, it was unintentional. Yolie, steam coming out of her ears, reading those words, "Faked all of us out for decades?"

I'm not that good of an actress.

Parenting for 34 solid years has been quite the marathon, my 25 years in the public school system may have added to a little cynicism, we've had such long tough marathons of expending negative energy and anger towards those that hurt my children so deeply years ago.

Thank God for therapy, for my friends and community.

Who God calls, He equips.

Late To School

Still no laptop but somehow, against all odds, I'm still believing that it'll come back to me. There is so much irreplaceable information there, I've been attempting to write a book, hopefully it'd sell and make me enough money to pay for therapeutic and psychiatric placements for the incorrigible ones; the ones that after so many years are unable to grow a conscience nor differentiate between right and wrong. I'm not talking about Jesus as our Savior, but rather just don't lie and steal.

You will go to jail if those behaviors do not stop.

I've had bosses, teachers, neighbors and friends over the years report their suspicions to me about some of my sticky-fingered children.

Mr. Thief called the police on me and Grandpa last night. Long story that makes me sick to my stomach.

Sarah, the GENUIS, had taken it upon herself, last year, knowing how busy that I am with so much stupid stuff, she'd registered my laptop with Toshiba and retrieved the model number and serial number for me so that I can file a police report. I'd been so upset that I couldn't even remember if it were a Toshiba, Dell, Sony or Pac-man.

I know it's just stuff, but it is so painful to be hated so deeply by someone in my family who would do this to me. I own so little that matters to me anyway...my words that I'd written and stored in that laptop do matter as do all those pictures. I'm physically sick each time I think about something else that I need from there.

Jonathan flat refused to go to school this morning because I would not allow him to take a two pound sack of fig newton cookies. I suggested half a pound and he went down in a rage, taking Martin with him who openly defied my demand that they go to the van.

I lost it.

I slung my coffee cup on the driveway where it bounced up and burned my back, not badly, aloe took care of it. I burst out crying again for a solid hour, alarming my parents for the tenth time in four days.

Martin immediately apologized due to the fact that he has conscience. Jonathan escalated into screaming how much he hated me.

I got the elementary school kids to school, came home to the news from Grandpa that Jonathan had run away... like I then cared? I'd seen him "hiding" out front behind a dumb dog of mine that couldn't hold still, shaking with excitment at being involved in an idiotic conspiracy with a wayward child. Welcome to my life fleabag. Why am I being rude to my dog? At least she gives a crap about me.

I cried in my upstairs bathroom, talking on my cell to Yolie, opening the door to find Jonathan was standing there, "I'm sorry," he said.

Yeah? No spit, I thought in my blazing head, but I quietly responded, "Thanks for apologizing," brushing past him. I can't give in to his deep need to control the family by his negative actions.

I need to get a grip, I'm not a crybaby, I'm macho mama and too many folks have caught me in tears lately.

Allen scored four goals last night, CW four as well, winning a great soccer game. Jack and Nando's team won also, still undefeated.

Y'all's prayers were heard in Heaven. Miss Cissy brought a construction crew to my house yesterday, taking notes about how to fix it up and help me out, I cried again, blowing my nose in my shirt, just because folks were being nice to me, so used to the hatred and bile that niceness unnerves me.

A new reader with a Hispanic uncle that works at the Atlanta INS office may be an opening, or an avenue, that may help our other situation.

Becoming The Bitter Old B*&ch That They Call Me Anyway When I Catch Them Stealing

When one has to struggle during prayer time to not cuss, one probably will be unable to type a complete post without profanity, something I find mightily offensive anyway.

To be robbed by people you love and have taken care of no matter how they have responded and treated the naive parent in return, to have something valuable with irreplaceable pictures, writings, info, my quicken checkbook, budget spreadsheets, social security numbers, college financial applications and essays, goals, and plans... one's right hand which is my laptop computer stolen from one's house while one is at church...I am really struggling right now with my feelings.

I had another couple of hundred dollars taken, money given to me by someone for me to put into my children's savings account. I know who did both things and I am trying not to be consumed by negative animosity while they continue to lie to me about stealing.

I cried Sunday night so hard that I had a nosebleed, first ever in my life.

I cried so hard Monday, down by the dried up creek deep in the woods with my five dogs, that I thought my head would explode. Good then I could just go to Heaven and be free, but then I'd miss my good kids which is most of them.

I cried so hard last night that a teacher dropping by must have wondered what on earth was wrong with this blubbering idiot whose face was swollen like a big, red balloon...she, however, was much too polite to ask.

That was my second stolen laptop in a year plus that IPOD that Daniel had gotten free for me when we'd ordered something else. I've had over a thousand dollars in cash stolen over the last ten years, considering that I rarely keep cash on hand, that's a remarkable feat for lying, manipulative thieves who don't care if I then can't buy groceries for the other children.

Maybe some kids are absolutely too incorrigible to be in families? Maybe there is no hope; maybe I'm putting myself in an early grave, all for nothing?

I cannot re-create the stolen info - I've lost that data on a password protected computer that means nothing to the back-stabbing thief who calls me mom.

Are they just trying to kill me little by little?

I had to call the elementary school, ask them to get Tony out of class to give me the password to the Bubba computer so that I could type this post.

If this post is too bitter for any starry-eyed optimists like I once was, then I apologize. I'm just continuing to keep it real. This is why I deliberately waited a few days before posting. Maybe I should have waited longer?

I've gone from crying into a very deep anger.

Last October Kinda Sucked

Taking a shower late at night as everyone else snores I got to thinking about our ordeals of a year ago when I had surgery. I went back into the archives and laughed my butt off at the posts.

I have many new readers and knowing what we know now, the events of last October are all the more ironic.

Our computer is moving slower than sewage sludge so I'm too Type A to sit and wait much, until I figure out the problem, my irritability level will continue to mount.

Yolie and Chuck's Major Plans

If an old fart like me sleeps in until 6:30 in the morning, I feel like my day is half shot. I very quickly guzzled my coffee, asked my dad to drive the first two teams to soccer practice, and loaded my mom and everyone else up to hit some yard sales in la-de-dah neighborhoods today . We did very well, I wrote about clothing our large family here.

Going back to the sales late is a stroke of possible brilliance as most folks are literally giving away their stuff by then, glad to have someone haul it off. I'm thinking about leaving my business card at some of the better ones, asking them to call me when it's over and I'll come cart away all their leftover stuff. Heck between my grown kids, other large families I know, some foster families, and freecycle folks, this might be a good plan. I'm going to give it some more thought and I have a couple of other ideas brewing.

Since pothos breeds faster than bunnies on meth, buying two dozen clay or ceramic pots each weekend at yard sales hardly contains the rampant plant growth. Soon I'll need to throw out all my sofas to make room for all my plants.

Ms Carr, the sweetheart, surprised me this evening and brought me a gorgeous fleece since I'd given one away this week at a soccer game, now I have my own LL Bean. The one I'd given away also came home, but it was just one of those Wal-Mart rejects that schools buy to emblazon with their mascots, that one I had was from a middle school two counties away.

Yolie's letting me start to unfurl her new plans, something she and Chuck have been working on for years. Moving to five acres next to me, starting to build a house while selling theirs, moving excess stuff over here for now, and two other grown kids are starting to undertake some huge life moves that'll make life real interesting and kinda complicated, but I believe we're up for the challenge.

Paloma has not raged in almost a full week.

Shenanigans

I don't know if I mentioned that in the midst of this morning's mayhem, JoJo ran away since I wouldn't let him fight with anyone. He eventually returned but by then Vanessa had missed the bus due to wasting time on hair straightening. Rightly assuming that Big Mama was as ill-tempered as a snake, she chose Sonny to request her alternative transportation.

I stopped four out of five of my dogs from biting the Charter Communications men who actually showed up on time to fix what I'd already worked on, I'd rewired an entire room just to achieve wireless connections. The fifth dog wasn't home, off chasing imaginary deer I suppose.

I drug JoJo to school and pitched a fit there to anyone who would listen about the ingrates I live with, if nothing else, my own monkey business is a source of entertainment for others who are openly glad to not be me.

Miss Renee had boxes of chips for our family that her husband distributes, and as we walked out to her car, I shared our most pressing prayer need that involves the INS, if anyone feels so led to pray for doors to open and a big ole miracle to occur.

I stopped at a yard sale and bought 3 Polo shirts for Nando at a buck apiece, a huge mirror to hang upstairs to replace one that Joey shattered a year ago, and bought a huge bin of matchbox cars and trucks for Jack and Nando. I can't wait to show this to them after school today.

Now I'm headed out to pick up that queen sized mattress set from Daniel's neighbor. I've hardly spent a $10 bill and have amassed all we've needed once again.

Oh Well

Because I live with so many children who are thieves, I mean kids who have sticky fingers, I cannot keep snacks on hand so that I'll have them when I need them. When it's my turn to provide Pre-K or soccer snacks, that means I must pick them up on the way there as they'll surely be swiped if I bring them home. For someone who tries to plan carefully, this can be annoying.

I went in my pjs, with uncombed hair and two day old eye make-up half smeared, into our nearby country store that sells the best biscuits on the planet. There were more folks crammed into that cinder block building than I could count. I'm not exaggerating, there had to be 50 folks, shoulder to shoulder while I counted out 22 Popsicles for Tabby's class.

Do you think I was embarrassed to look so crappy? Heck no, half of the folks in there know me anyway, it was probably reassuring to them that I, at least, wasn't barefoot.

My kids were mortified but tough toenails, maybe if JoJo and Allen hadn't got into a fight over nothing, maybe if they'd all have gotten up the first time I shouted, or maybe if I were young enough to still give a rip about my appearance, I might have bothered to not spill my coffee down my shirt in public.

See what these young'uns have done to me?

Internet Is Back Up

Shockingly tonight, my Internet regenerated itself without me having to run crying to Daniel or pissed offed to Charter.

Jesse quickly figured out my earlier post, calling me to get the rest of the story that Miriam had already heard at work since she works with the sister of the one who let me know what happened last night. That's fine as she's the first one I ran to after reading that other police report.

Daniel beeped in with a cool offer. Some girl just happened to knock on his door and ask his handsome self if he wanted a queen sized bed. "Yeah sure," Daniel'd replied, "My Mom always needs more beds," like everyone else's mom must also have this same need. So I gotta drive my truck over at exactly 11:15 in the morning. I hope they have a sweatshirt too as I took mine off and gave it to the daughter of a friend as I was leaving the park last night as she pulled in for the next game, surprised to see our Georgia temperatures dropping like rocks. Heck it was just near 90, probably 50s by dark. YUCK. Actually the Weather Channel now says 62 at 8 but I swear it felt like it was gonna snow or something, call me a sissy if you want.

Dr. Mandy arrived this afternoon to find everyone behaving and in goofy moods. Lately she must have felt totally sucked in to the black morass of angriness and self-hatred. That had to be getting old, so I'm happy this afternoon that she got to see what I usally get to see...a bunch of nuts.

She'd found JoJo outside riding his bike and asked, "How're ya doing JoJo?"

"Better than Miriam," he offhandedly snickered, knowing she's been on the outs with me for a few days.

Appreciating My Goose Buddy

With my limited access to folk's wireless until mine is fixed, my early morning adventures can be found here.

I'm over at Sarah's, thinking about my five pound salad at home that I'm craving, but it's just gotta wait as so much is going on in the meantime.

At least when I have a two hour car trip I can make and return some calls, giggling with my best friend as I told her that I didn't posses a shred of dignity anymore with which to wrap around myself. At least none of my kids were in this morning's police report yet a girlfriend of one of my sons left me a message about a to-do last night that I need to address. Ignoring my cell calls doesn't work child of mine, I'll catch up with you and you know you're gonna hear about this. Let's skip a step...Jesse, please handle this for me, you can guess which knucklehead to call.

Some of my posts on both pages go off on obscure tangents at times, but that's fairly demonstrative of the way I teach my kids who've not had anyone ever bother to do so. I've been digging through these pages, learning still more to teach my think-they-know-it-all kids. If only mama wouldn't be so bossy, then they grow up and come tearing back to my couch to ask a thousand questions about money and finances that I'd already tried to explain to them.

Want to have money?

Then don't spend any.

Duh.

Most people just buy crap they don't need nor use.

But for now, I have WAY bigger fish to fry with several kids needing legal guidance, moral redirecting, academic flash points, and a little bit more sense than God gave to geese.

JEEPERS.

Bye Bye Cable Internet

I will not be able to blog in the early morning hours as my Internet really was hit by lightening and won't be fixed until Friday.

I'll bounce between Sarah and Yolie's houses as they're wireless because I really don't want to get behind on the other blog.

As usual we have tons going on, and I even took some notes this morning to be able to remember everything.

I'm behind on my email as well.

Jesse, my 25 year old, was really on me today about being so painfully real on my blogs, and pretty much my best response was that I wrote this for adoptive parents not for the kids. He feared that one of my younger kids would read when I fantasized about having children with no problems. I understand his argument and I'll need to be more careful about what I say.

Truthfully the letters I've received from all y'all give me enough material for blogging as so many of you have now had your once cute, sweet, darling kids hitting puberty with raging tempers and little understanding of cause and effect consequences. I'm not going to blog anyone else's business either unless it is heavily disguised but, lemme tell you, our experiences are very universal.

At some point I want to email Jesse an interview, at least some expounding on his thoughts that make a lot of sense. I only want for him to approve when I write this so he'll let me know what I can share.

One thing that got me to thinking though...I want to encourage everyone to hang in there when it gets hard but Jesse suggested maybe it'd be better for the kids to be disrupted if they weren't loved. I maintain that love is an act of will at times, sometimes it's hard to love my kids, but I still do in spite of a great deal of hurt and anger on my part.

Reading this paragraph aloud to Yolie, she pointed out that the parents DO still love the kids, but are always so frustrated over the lack of help and resources for such traumatzied children, and to this I agree. So..........again I have no good answers.

Ray's Photograpy

Ray took this picture of Sarah when she was nine months pregnant with Hazel.

I am at their house right now as a lightening strike knocked us out last night. Little rain but huge amounts of electricity, I'm waiting on the Bubbas to get home and help me figure out our wireless connections.

I had a long talk with my son, Jesse in Texas (Thank God for Verizon) and he gave me some interesting thoughts to blog. He's upset with my gut level honesty regarding my frustrations in that he feels I might be hurting the feelings of my kids. I write this for adoptive parents and if I fantasize about a stressless life then I want people to know it is only a fantasy as I greatly prefer my life with my family.

He told me more but I'll send a post to him first and get his approval, I have a dozen or so percolating in my head right now as so much stuff hits us constantly.

Reminding Myself...and all y'all as well

Adoptive Mamas of Older Children - Do NOT think you are alone in your struggles. I'm getting emails after emails detailing the awful incidents happening within your families as your children, like mine, struggle with their broken emotions and severe disturbances. I feel your pain. I do not blog all that happens here, I confide in a few close friends and in some of my imaginary friends who live like I do.

Claudia and I, Sharon and Theresa and other mamas of large families have been pretty brutal in our blogging revelations lately, but such is our life...yet we have to often hold back in the midst of serious situations.

I pray for y'all by name and I appreciate the prayers that you also send up for my family.

I'm reminding myself that I know I was called to this life...and equipped...I'm also simply being real about how hard it is at times.

Borrowing Someone's Family For My Own Emotional Regeneration

I thank God for this beautiful pre-teen of mine. Little Miss Memaw has somehow managed to demonstrate incredible resiliency through nearly insurmountable odds. She's intelligent, sweet and delightful, and in my despair over all the issues I am dealing with, I laid out my all my dark feelings to Audrey...how all the Yolies and Sabrinas of the foster care and orphan world may not ever find families while so many of potential families are struggling with children who will never care about themselves, us, or anyone in the world. How fair is that in the grand scheme of life? Audrey, of course, set me straight.

I say this, not necessarily based on my own varied experiences, but in response to the many emails I receive from parents who are pushed beyond human limits and endurance, the dangerous situations that many of us find ourselves grappling with constantly, and the hatred and destruction we must absorb from our children that we are devoted to helping.

On top of everything else I'm dealing with, I discovered an older child absolutely lying to me for no reason. She's old enough to make her own decisions and she yelled the F word in my front word yesterday evening as she wrongly thought I was aware of her deceptions. Totally blindsided, some other children of mine tattled and told me the whole story. I was then righteously enraged, but I channeled my anger into verbal form and replied to another mom who is also struggling, contemplating a disruption.

Grandma came to watch the kids go to bed, it was 8, and I had a soccer game of my older kids, the U14 league. I ignored a grown kid there, who never even saw me arrive, and I went and sat on a blanket with a family who has six birth kids. This mom attended my church in the 80s, we didn't know each other then, she married, birthed six charming, beautiful kids that she homeschools, using her Master's Degree in Math Education where it counts. Their dad coaches my kids and I simply needed to get my bearings, to sit and listen to her sweet children chatter normally, playing with my cell phone, and looking at pictures of my kids, asking a bunch of questions. Their grandma was there as well, she has 18 grandkids, a really beautiful woman herself, I love it when someone has more grandbabies than me.

Honestly, I regrouped in a big way by sitting with them last night for an hour. They have no idea how emotionally healing that time was for me.

This morning I fled to Sarah's house, barefeet and in my pjs, just to see Hazel, Ray and Sarah before I started the rest of my day. My Franklin-Covey Planner is very full: Nando's birthday, three soccer games, art club for Lily, ecology club for Scotty, dinner for 20-25 tonight, and I'm headed off to my own dentist check-up for which my dentist prescribed Valium to calm my jets and make me sit still long enough to get the job done. Five days at home for Fall Break, I need to replenish the pantry with groceries.

As much as I carry on here, Lord knows I won't quit, I'm human enough to get fed up with the boiling over raging issues, with a child who broke a cop's nose this weekend, and with the theft here at home of some money I'd hidden, plus the culprit that I suspect stole four boxes of Viactive - chocolate calcium chews - which will undoubtedly result in a good case of diarrhea - natural consequences, albeit right smelly.

Such is my life. Time to get a grip and face it again today.

Thank you Yolie, Audrey, Sarah and Ms Carr for yesterday's support. If I called Ms Carr by her first name, I'm afraid my children would follow suit, so I have to demonstrate to them the proper way to address a grown woman.

Thanks to the Stearns for letting me emotionally "borrow" their family for an hour last night, it felt so nice to be with them.

How To Become a Bitter...OOPS I Mean BETTER Mother

When a child raged over nothing yesterday, hitting and slamming against my walls, kicking and scuffing the floor, slinging snot and screaming, I maintained my calm because unfortunately or fortunately I am becoming immune to this. Not necessarily that my heart is hardening but how many names can one call me, how much hatred and blame can be poured out on me until I emotionally withdraw somewhat?

Get real.

I feed, clothe, tend to my family constantly, I've devoted myself to this journey for decades and, while I am inordinately proud of some of my kids and deeply grateful to God that they are in my life, there are others who, through no discernible fault of their own, will always be incapable of normal behavior no matter what label they are given by professionals.

It is not my fault that my children came from hellacious circumstances, it is not my fault that quite a few have chosen to break the law over the last few years, and it is not my fault when grown kids make poor choices and have to pay the consequences.

These issues that came with the children are not my fault, blame me all you want, but nothing will be solved or accomplished that way.

I sat with two women today holding Master's Degrees in Social Work, Yolie and Audrey, discussing this subject. I work alongside of therapists, psychologists, teachers and psychiatrists on a nearly daily basis. I will not listen to excuses from folks like my kids who break the law, I will listen to the professionals who are trying so hard to help us.

Right now I have three teens in DJJ situations, two kids in adult jail, one just out after a DUI and thankfully the one with the 'no insurance' charge produced proof just in the nick of time. Another grown kid still facing some charges in court.

I took all my kids to church for decades, I instilled a value system and I held them all accountable for their actions. Now the police are doing so, just like I told them would happen.

Audrey pointed out our many success stories here and I really need to keep concentrating on that, because lately I have become very disheartened.

And, as I blogged earlier, some of my grown kids are facing some challenges and some ultimately good things that will happen eventually, but it's going to take some hand-holding and encouragement from me to get there. Looking ahead for some impending events in 2008, it's going to be an interesting, challenging time for many of us.

Carolina's Beautiful Family

Sundays are becoming our visiting days, I saw a bunch of my grown kids yesterday.

Some of my grown kids are working through some life changes, situations that will ultimately be really cool, I'm helping them talk through it, make arrangements and tend to stuff and when I can blog about the ultimate results of decisions and events I will do so.

I was telling Ms Carr yesterday about some of the issues that are going on that need more time to pass before I can share it, a lot of stuff very common to adoptive parents, especially adoptive parents of older children.

Today is the last day of Fall Break, all quiet here yet I got one of those late night calls that I need to work through first. I feel like I'm being unnecessarily secretive, I don't mean to be, I'm just talking in my head right now, wondering how to handle challenges that are really beyond my ability to control in any way.

After I'd bragged so much yesterday about Vanessa, she had some Viper Girl moments, kind of predictable. Oh well.

Lisa & Husband - Peppers

Fire Hot Pepper Sauce - Too Easy

Take whatever peppers you've just picked - can be any quantity, any mixture, bring them to a quick boil, run through the food processor, let cool and then freeze.

Or throw them in the canner. This is mistake poof. And the hotness stays flaming hot.

5 Pounds

This bowl of peppers and tomatoes was picked the other morning. I chopped them all into a bowl for my lunch. Edgar arguing with me that I couldn't possibly stuff down five pounds each noon. "You weigh it?" he'd asked incredulously as if he'd never comprehend the ways of women, so why try anymore.

Paloma picked a second bowl that evening. How we are still getting tons of peppers astounds even me, I'm fairly sure it is from 15 years of composting and mulching the garden beds. Lord knows how many tons of horse manure I've spread there as well, my soil may be dry, but it's ability to absorb and later deploy water to the roots of my plants has been proven this year. Now if only I were half as talented as taking unblurred pictures.

About ten years ago I planted tea olives judiciously around the property, especially near windows that are open the most. This has resulted in an uncommonly delightful fragrance being pulled through our home each night by the attic fans that suck out the pissy air and replace it with whatever is blooming outside.

We made it last night through lightly browned tortillas stuffed with pinto beans, veggies from the garden, fire hot pepper sauce I'd also grown and bottled, and sour cream without any supper meltdowns or even bedtime squabbles. Miriam and Mayra took my debit card to pick up more milk and cheese and then drove Vanessa home from work.

I'd been allowed to spend 60 solid hours at home, from Wednesday night until Saturday morning, never cranking up my van or truck, flitting from project to project, always both a preference and a priority for me. If I never had to leave our land, I'd be a happy camper, but church is calling us out this morning.

Vanessa has already saved over a thousand dollars from McDonalds, stashed in her savings account, well on her way to buying herself a car, this in just a few short months. Don't tell me that minimum wage jobs don't pay well (for a teenager with no bills). Her confidence has soared, her behavior has been great, and she's on track to graduate next May since I'm also buying her some on-line courses that she's diligently working on in her free time.

This is the same girl I'd removed from school a couple years ago for constantly fighting with people. That was my spring more commonly referred to as Teen Age Day Care when I had Joey, Fabian, Vanessa and Teresa unable to attend public school without brandishing weapons, puching other people, stealing all their stuff or demonstrating total non-compliance to any sort of regard for rules or regulations.

Fabian will be home sometime this year from his Outdoor Therapeutic Wilderness Camp experiences. Guess who will be joining the ranks of Ronald McDonald? Vanessa can't wait for him to be there with her as well. Miriam still works there along with her other job from 2:30-5:30 each afternoon at a daycare.

Yes even I see the irony...I'm a vegetarian with kids flipping burgers and I view daycare as baby jail yet, I've had half a dozen daughters work for one.

Shawnee Pottery

My guess is that folks get plants in nice pots and forget to care for them. The plants die, they dump out the dirt, and stick the nice pot under the sink or something.

Having a yard sale, they drag it out, leave it on the ground which is the first place I look rather than on tables and I rarely pay a dollar, often 50 cents or so as the seller just wants the dirty pots gone. I just want to plant them and know that even at Wal-Mart, these same planters run about $10 each just for the small ones. I need hundreds of them as I'm always dividing plants for my therapy.

Sometimes I find a McCoy, but today, as I was cleaning up my new finds, I discovered a Shawnee. It's worth between $20 and $50 dollars. I took an overgrown dumb cane, divided it into six new plants and even christened the Shawnee with one.

Raging

Right now I need to look at something positive such as Tony and Lily, both fifth graders, reading to their buddies in Nando's kindergarten class. Neither of them, of course, are reading to their own baby brother, Nando.

Miss P just got corrected for hitting Tabby, such a no-no, yet she did so since she then knew she'd be corrected. Being redirected as such, sent to her room, gives her reason enough, in her jumbled mind, to have a screaming rage for two hours.

We'd simply ignore her except she escalates so dangerously, she'd been known to put her fist through window panes, today she was throwing everything around in her room resulting in such stupendous crashes that we had to investigate.

She spit in Vanessa's face who amazingly did not retaliate, she tried to bite me and she kicked everyone else. Two hours. From 11:30-1:30, missing her soccer practice, forcing me to make other arrangements for the other five siblings on her team, thankfully my dad took them while I tried to make sure she didn't hurt herself.

I absolutely remained calm, I don't care if she hates me, she isn't emotionally together enough to feel any kind of love anyway so scream at me all you want, child, it doesn't hurt my feelings. Her baby brother was sobbing, scared by her anger while her other brother, now 14, stood by me looking at her screaming and kicking on the floor, lashing out at us occasionally, but looking for all the world like a demon possessed whirling dervish who had no clue as to why she was really angry in the first place.

Welcome to my world.

Javy and I discussed the fact that their original mother didn't care at all that her five children were so emotionally pained and damaged by her actions against them many years ago. Javy told me, "I'm just glad we're here, Mom."

That kind of remark strengthens me to remain in my world.

Pre-Cycling

I got this photo this morning from this blog, patting myself on the back for the pile of drink bottles I never buy, drinking out of a Ball Jar here at home, water from our well and knowing how fortunate we are to have such great tasting water.

Since Jack didn't let me know until bedtime last night that his practice had been cancelled this morning, I didn't plan well enough for the yard sales this morning. For just $10 I found two bikes for Jonathan and Scotty, a one dollar French cookbook for Sarah and a couple of planters for me.

Our life is so quiet and uneventful at the moment, a blessing as I recharge and attempt to gather my wits around me once again, watching 'em scattered to the wind usually, I'm almost uneasy when things are calm like this.

Cilantro Soup

I've been reading with great interest, Green L.A. Girl's blog for quite some time now, amazed and happy for her that it's now part of the L.A. Times, an impressive accomplishment.

My other blog and several other bloggers there have found themselves with some filthy hateful comments, which have since been deleted of course, from some vehement and profane anti-adoption folks. I don't even know how to respond, nor if I should, as it's almost like an anti-breathing campaign as there are no viable alternatives...where would they prefer that orphans go, or anyone else who has unwilling parents? Don't even get me started...

We heard from an astoundingly happy Jose last night, I know he was med free and Dr. Mandy had explained to me how Jose is able to recognize, at times, how much he needs help, and to now be somewhere that he feels he doesn't have to be in control of his behaviors, but rather to be helped by professionals, must be a bit of a relief. Jose even lectured Paloma briefly on the phone about being good.

She'd had a tough time yesterday in therapy, we feared a rage was coming but it never materialized instead she got distracted with Sabrina who was painting her bedroom a lovely shape of purple, with permission of course.

I have an email program via my other blog that I'd been lax about checking, knowing I could read the comments on-line and found myself with 814 emails to go through. I did so last night while sipping on an utterly delicious cilantro soaked soup that Carolina made for me.

Balancing My Own Emotions

Proving how uncool I am, as if there were any doubts, I listened to this CD in my truck all day long yesterday except for a couple of hours, when riding with Jose and listening to his odd ramblings.

The Cathedrals comfort me, cheer me up, boost me into the stratosphere, and cement my feelings about my difficult journey with troubled children.

I constantly fight such a high level of frustration, but it is always counter balanced by an even higher level of pride in my many children who somehow to choose to make good choices in spite of the turmoil they've endured.

We'd splurged with my retirement check and ordered pizzas for dinner; ten large at $6 each is a huge investment, but I was gone all day and cooking would have been impossible since everyone needed to be out the door for church, an event no one wants to miss as their youth group Wednesday night services are a social event as well as great learning time.

My parents have done a bang-up job lately of helping me, especially during the last couple of months. Grandma had to babysit from 3-4:30 which may sound like not much at all until one considers that 16 kids walk in the house after school wanting Mama. I'm always here, it's a big source of their comfort and routine, and they are usually on edge if I'm not here. Their sense of stability is internally so precarious that me not being on schedule emotionally threatens them.

Just driving Vanessa to work helps me plus Grandpa'd picked up the pizzas and then Javy who conveniently forgot to tell anyone that he had detention after school.

Paloma was teetering on a rage, fell off into the precipice of anger and uncontrollable emotions over nothing as usual and continued it until 10 pm last night. I was IMing Claudia my very negative thoughts at the moment, my irked feelings over this constant BS which wears me down.

Driving the kids to and fro from church, which fortunately is only a two minute trip, Grandpa tried to reason with Paloma who stormed out the back door into the dark night. I knew she wouldn't go far, maybe ten feet off the back deck, my five dogs immediately surround anyone who goes outside, tails wagging and jumping happily everywhere.

All the kids came back in from church, uncharacteristically everyone was in high spirits, and we sat around the kitchen laughing and cutting up. They were all telling me pre-adoption stories, and asking questions. All the guffaws and joke telling drew Paloma back into the house, aggravated at being ignored and left-out. She knows she's welcome to join the party with a good attitude, her birth brothers were clearly annoyed with her which she doesn't like, so an hour or so later she quietly went to her room without any more ugly comments.

Dr. Mandy is coming this morning, Fall Break lasts for the next five days, and Paloma can process all this with her. The entire hour and a half that the other kids were gone last night, I sat with Paloma trying to reason with her while she screamed absurd things at the top of her lungs. For that I missed church? Jeepers.

I woke up at 4 this morning, came downstairs to drink coffee and savor my solititude but within 30 minutes, Allen and JoJo were perched next to me on the couch, happy there's no school today, knowing that Sarah's bringing the new baby over for the first time today.

Whose Ball Is This?

Jennifer sent me a viable solution to Paloma's reluctance to follow strict house rules such as attend school each day. "When she refuses to get out of bed to
go to school, take her breakfast in bed, read her stories while she's in
bed, affirm her need to have some mama cuddle time. You'll be affirming
what she needs, but not what she wants." I like that.

This morning I hope Miss Defiance gets on board as I have to be out of here before 8 to drive three hours and get Jose, then two hours south of there for a three hour intake, and two hours home from the other side of Atlanta again during rush hour traffic there.

Thank God I have Grandma and Grandpa as backups. They'll be there when the kids get home from school, get Vanessa to work, and hold down the fort until I get home to get everyone to church.

I plan to make better time than what I just posted, a sweet lady from intake faxed me much of the paperwork so possibly I can telescope that time into an hour and a half.

I sorta got to the bottom of the 'no insurance' charge yesterday, my son in Texas, called me on the soccer field, pretty certain as to who I was talking about. Next call from him went to the culprit who does have insurance, didn't have proof on him that night when another car hit him, and hasn't been charged with anything even though the police report indicated so. Bring me proof son either way. You know I can make just a couple of inquring phone calls.

We had three soccer games last night at 6,7 and 8. They won two out of three, Edgar met us there to cheer, and I got to sit with a friend of mine I hadn't seen in awhile who told me a hilarious story about her dog pooping out a rubber ball he'd taken from one of her kids. Easy to entertain aren't I?

Sonny calling me, "Miriam won't drive me to town to get my tire fixed." This after she'd worked both jobs yesterday, but too bad as Sonny always jumps to help her out.

I called her to make her go, "Did Sonny run crying to you?" she whined while I explained the Golden Rule for the ten billionth time while simultaneously hollering encouragement on the soccer field.

By 9:30 everyone was home, flat tire fixed, coffee ready to brew for the next morning, and I sat down to fill out all that paperwork that had been faxed to me to save time today.

Tomorrow is the first day of Fall Break for the kids...Lord Have Mercy do we need some down time together at home.

Isaac

Still focusing on grandkids, Isaac here is too adorable, he's Saray and T's youngest. I see his Tia Marcela in his eyes.

I'm getting emails regarding comments, especially on my other blog as I'm encountering a world of very frustrated mamas of traumatized children, our experiences are universal and troubling, with so few options or solutions available.

Paloma never did make it to school today, furious over nothing, mad at the world, certain to ensure a disturbed existence. Can she come around? Hopefully with the work of a therpist she will make a turnaround, but she's got to want it more than we do.

Consequences Pile Up

I REALLY have to keep focusing on my grandchildren, Saray's three beautiful kids here, and reminding myself that it's all worth it, as we seem to be having a wild case of mass stuck-on-stupid behavior. When will they learn that such oppositional behavior only hurts them? I can repair my house, I'll pay my bills, and I'll continue to have some sort of a life while their anti-social behaviors will continue to cost THEM, not me.

Again, it seems to be the way of the world, this dumb MTV generation that believes all the media lies that they watch on TV. How come one never sees human beings sitting down budgeting and paying bills? All this generation sees are people dancing around literally in uber trendy clothes with no discernible source of income. What a crock of crap.

I don't allow MTV here, I'm simply using that mentality as an example.

I have a grown kid in trouble for no car insurance. You think I haven't covered that base over and over? Did I not tell him that the police could jail him over such an offense, yes I did. Now there will be fines and court costs... if this, then that. Duh.

A 14 year old defied a teacher and received two days of in-school suspension and will have a consequence here as well as in no computer time, no Nintendo, and no attendance at the middle school football game. He was very sheepish over this, knowing that I'd be called by the school before he ever got off the bus.

A ten year old, Paloma, deep in the throes of Oppositional Defiant Disorder, refused to do her homework, clean off a table or go to bed last night. I turned off all the lights and went upstairs. We've done this enough times that I've learned not to get into a battle, she eventually has no audience and goes to bed.

She refused to get up today and refused to go to school. Her assistant principal has already informed her that this can hold her back a grade, it's the third time this month alone.

She gets angry over nothing, crosses her arms and glares, refusing to budge, looking foolish as all get out, but totally doesn't give a rip.

She's receiving a great deal of counseling, but until her heart begins to change, the consequences will mount up against her. How do you make someone care about themselves? Self-hatred, pure utter jealousy over everyone, and an abject inability to comprehend cause and effect. To live within such a cloud of negative emotions must super-stink.

I'd made Javy write a letter of apology and mail it to the teacher he'd disrespected. Heartfelt or not, that's not the point, learning to apologize and attempt to make amends is the first step maybe in conscience development...if such a thing can happen when the bonds were once so broken in his mind. I have high hopes for him and two of his brothers. The third one is Jose and Paloma is his birth sister, demonstrating very little understanding of how folks should function.

500 Pounds

A comment asking if Sarah or Yolie planned to adopt someday got me to thinking. Who knows? On the one hand, we've already had a hard enough life, on the other hand, if God calls them to this, then yes of course.

Tony was watching a show early Sunday morning about a food program in Africa, several of my kids drifted in the room, became transfixed with the show...I know that most of them are hugely empathetic, great conscience development and want to help others. There are many ways besides adoption so I guess they all need to find their calling.

Allen called me from school, crying his eyes out that his head hurt and he felt sick so I went and got him, and am rearranging my day to tend to him. He might just be needing a Mama Day. He's highly emotional, very much like my doesn't-want-to-be-mentioned handsome 20 year old son who I'm not really getting along with right now. Bad attitudes, irresponsibility and ignorant choices get on my nerves.

I just picked a ton of peppers and tomatoes, OK five pounds again, for my salad that never contains lettuce except in the spring when I grow it. I chomped and chewed and multiplied in my head knowing I've eaten 5 pounds a day of peppers and tomatoes for the last 100 days fresh from the garden, organic and teeming with nutrients. I've run 500 pounds through my body this summer. Glad I didn't have to pay for all this at the store. Add up all the watermelons, cucumbers, squash, eggplants and fruits also. I just impressed myself. And that was just me, CW, Miriam and a bunch of others have chowed down as well each day, especially as this has been a banner year for peppers of all kinds which like dry weather.