The Seven Things I Didn't See Coming... Last Week

So, instead of a wrap-up, I'm just going to start looking at the things that surprised me, the things that were unexpected. 

So here are my seven from the week of August 8.



1. I went to a drag show with my oldest daughter, Marie. I gave a drag queen money, which he/she took from my teeth with her (his?) tongue. No touching. And, as an unexpected bonus, I was sober.

2. Then, we went to a dance club. At 1:30AM. I have not danced, in a bar, around other people, since 1995. Again, I was sober. However, the man who kept grinding on my backside and elbowing everyone around us was not.

3. Leigh decided to take herself off her meds. She did okay for the first week, but this week, back at home, she’s not doing so well.  (You can loosely translate that as we want to kill her, but haven't found a way to get away with it yet.)

4. I found out that Leigh is having sex. Again. But with whom I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to know. With her off meds, she is not taking pills daily, which means being on the pill is no longer the best, easiest option to keep her un-impregnated.

5. The philosophical dilemmas I’m having with #4 are many. First, Leigh is 15. Sex at 15 is a bad idea no matter what, and we’ve been battling sex issues with her since she moved in with us when she was six. Second, if she gets pregnant, there are obviously many other big, big issues. Like the fact that I don’t believe in abortion, and that mental illness runs deep in her bio-family. And she is completely incapable of caring for a child. She can’t remember to put on pajamas. I shudder to think how a child left to her care would survive. And I don’t want to raise another baby, but I feel very strongly about keeping families together. Borrowing trouble? Maybe. But I’d rather prepare for the worst and hope for the best.

6. One week left until I go back to work. Ugh. Summer vacation is great. Ending it is not.

7. I haven’t heard from Dawn in two weeks. She made the mistake of asking me to be honest with her, and then not liking the answer. She’s also ignoring everyone else, which only makes me feel marginally better.

That's it.

Next week comes with more court, more caseworkers, more therapy, and my last week of summer. 

Did I Lie?

So when Danae told me she was gay, I told her I didn't care and that I would be just fine walking through the mall with her and her girlfriend hold hands. 

That happened today.  And if I am honest with myself, I was uncomfortable. And I don't know why.

I really don't care if she's gay. And I really don't care if the whole world knows.  But when I saw that they were holding hands, I did a double take. Now why did I do that?

And when we ran into one of my coworkers, I turned to introduce Danae and Annette, and they had disappeared. I asked her about it later, and she said she didn't want it to be an issue for me at work.  I told her that I didn't care. No one I work with is perfect or has perfect lives.  If they think less of me or my family because one (or more) of my kids are gay, they can get right the hell over it and kiss my large pale butt in the process. 

But why was I uncomfortable?  I am really bothered by this. 

Guh.  What the heck?

Weekly Wrap-up, May 8

First, NaNa is out and home YAY!!!  But, with three days of round-the-clock breathing treatments prescribed. Not so yay, but better than sleeping on hospital chairs.  

Here is is folks, what you all love to end (or start, depending on how you look at it) your week with... a glimpse into the craziness that is us.

WTF Question of the Week: Upon NaNa's admission to the hospital, we received an ugly yellow tub filled with goodies… pre-mixed formula bottles, disposable nipples, toothbrushes and toothpaste, free bath stuff for NaNa, and baby socks. Baby socks with non-slip rubber tread on them.

Why does a newborn need non-slip tread?

Biggest Liberal-Conservative Moment of Angst: At my core, I am a fiscal conservative, with a very liberal heart. It was the liberal (or maybe just cheap) heart that was rejoicing all the free stuff we left the hospital with today, when I realized that we actually had paid for all that crap out of the exorbitant taxes we pay. Here’s the loot we left with: 40 diapers, three packs of wipes, full-sized baby wash, two days worth of premixed formula, with disposable nipples for each 2 oz bottle, a humidifier, a pervy penguin nebulizer (see below), four baby shirts, three blankets, a pillow, two thermos mugs and a towel. And another blue bulb-booger-sucker-outer thingy. I wonder how much Medicaid paid for all that? On second thought, I don’t think I wanna know.

TMI Moment of the Week: After the BIG TALK with Danae, I texted a happily-not-hetero friend of mine to ask her what “going all the way” translated into amongst lesbians.

Her answer: When fingers are “in”volved.

I nearly wrecked my car.

Clutter Sucks: I haven’t seen my dining room table in about three weeks. I pushed a bunch of crap outta the way to put my lap top on it. (I can type on the sofa, but I like how it sounds when I’m sitting at a table. I know. Weird. But you knew that.)

Here’s the manifest, counter-clockwise, from the right: House phone, copy of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. (Note: Do not, under any circumstances put down or otherwise demean Jane Austen in front of me, or you might be punched in the face. I love her. Everyone needs a Mr. Darcy, or should strive to be like him. Maybe I’ll blog on that soon. And the Zombies parody is freakin’ hilarious.) My camera. Half-eaten bag of chips, old Sonic cup, three Big Store Where You Can Buy Anything at Anytime bags (full, but I don’t know what are in them), today’s newspaper. An empty baby food caddy, a stack of mail, my summer-mandatory beige visor, three packed, taped and ready to ship boxes o’ stuff for our friend who is in Afghanistan. He comes home in August. They’ve been packed since November. More mail. Can of cat food. (Anyone want a kitten? We have four. And I’m allergic to all five of them.) The igloo carrier for the slightly obscene penguin nebulizer we brought home from the hospital. My digital camera case. Two empty bottles. The dog leash. All of the attachments for Mr. Penguin that we aren’t using right now. Hubby’s laptop. My new 1 TB external hard drive (My computer only has about 10% memory left on it, and I got the external drive for $80 on http://www.ecost.com/) A big ass box of newborn to three months baby clothes I got for free from http://www.freecycle.org/. You should check that out if you’re into reusing and too lazy to have a yard sale. I probably need to STOP checking them out. Come to think of it, that’s where I got the baby food caddy and one of the full store bags—more baby clothes.

Best Supporting Actress in a Comedy Nominee: Hubby and I were sitting in the hospital room with NaNa, and the on-call pediatrician came in. She looked at me, looked at hubby, looked at the baby, looked at us again and said, “How’d that happen?”

Hubby shot back, “I’ve been asking Wife that for about three months now, but she swears NaNa's mine.” The doctor thought that was hilarious.

(This is only funny if you know, or remember,  that Hubby and I are very pale, and that NaNa is a deliciously deep Hershey color.)

Yes, People Really Still Live Like That: Danae spent the night Saturday with a friend. She called me at about 6 PM, reminding me to come get Leigh and telling me that she needed more money. Ordinarily, I’d’ve laughed at her, told her to get a job and moved on, but there was something in her voice that paused my smartass button. I asked her what was wrong, and she told me she’d text me, while I headed her way. She told me that her friend’s family didn’t have electricity or running water in their house, so that when she dragged them into a fast food restaurant for lunch, she and Leigh ended up buying them all lunch. Suddenly, a few odd things made sense. Like one time, went to pick up her friend, but she was across the street using the bathroom. I just figured they only had one bathroom and she was having a girl problem. It made me stop and realize how lucky Hubby and I are to have what we have, and that we’ve been able to keep it.

Another Best Supporting Actress in a Comedy Nominee: (Before you judge me here, read the next section about my guilt over this.) I took myself out for a mani-pedi last night. As Danae often points out, I have Flintstone feet which need way more attention than I have time to give them. Anyway, I left Hubby at the hospital with NaNa, went to pick up Leigh, dropped her off at a friend’s house, and realized I had an hour. To myself. 

And then realized the salon was still open. So I went. Leigh’s friend is about as special as she is, and her mama didn’t know Leigh was coming, so they dropped her off at the salon. Leigh promptly asked if she could get her toes done too.

Now, I’ve mentioned before that Leigh has nasty, makes-you-wish-you’d-never-learned-to-breathe feet. I think the last time they were washed was the last time she had her toes done, in about 2005 or so. Mine are just dry and crusty, but I have an excuse (thanks Sjogren's.)  Hers are nasty grubby because she refuses to wash.  So I said yes. At least I’d be able to breathe on the way home.

I tried, via telepathy, sign language, and pointing, to get my pedicurist to tell Leigh’s pedicurist that she was in for it. I failed, and the looks all around when Leigh took off her shoes were pretty funny. The one tech that didn’t have a customer immediately lit candles and went to find some spray. Which she used. Lots.

Thirty minutes later, Leigh’s feet were clean. I can’t remember the last time they looked skin-toned, without crud between the toes and under the nails. I complimented her, saying, “Leigh, your feet look so much better.”

Her tech looked up and me with a really mean look on her face and said, “That’s because they clean now.” I don’t blame her for being mean. If I had to clean Leigh’s feet, I’d have probably said worse. Which, come to think of it, was probably what all that rapid-fire Vietnamese was that was going on while she scraped and scrubbed Leigh’s feet.

To Guilt or not to Guilt, that is the Question: As I was sitting in the massage-y chair, enjoying my favorite part of the pedi-process (the vigorous, minty, exfoliating scrub from the heels to the knees), it hit me that I should not be sitting there enjoying what amounted to Ultimate Laziness while my three month-old daughter was in the hospital getting steroids and breathing treatments.

However, I justified my pampering because while waiting on Leigh to be done hanging at her friend’s house, I couldn’t get anything of real note done at home. And, Hubby was there with her, and between the two babies, NaNa is totally his, and MoMo is mine. (You know you had a parent you liked better than the other.  Be honest.  Even babies know what they like.)

Plus, the last time I disappeared (yesterday morning), I had been running errands so hubby could sleep in, and ended up navigating the public-service hospital with a temperamental toddler and sick infant. So I totally deserved the pampering, right? And it does NOT make me a horrible mom, either, right? RIGHT?

Flashback to the Future Connection:  When I was younger, and pretty much up until we adopted Leigh, I wanted to have six kids. I don’t know why six—it just seemed like the right number. It hit me on the way home from the hospital today, that right now, I have six kids. I’m trying to decide if GodAllahBuddha was trying to send me a message or not. When I pray, I always ask It to be very clear about that message, as sometimes (okay, a lot of the time) I'm not so good with subtle.  And I have been known to misread the signs, so, here’s my prayer this week:

Hey!

Me again. Did that epiphany on the interstate mean that Hubby and I should stop debating about what we’ll do if given the chance to adopt the babies? Was that a sign that I’d hit my six? Or was it a random moment brought to me by an equally random brain?

Love, Me

PS—Thanks for all those times this week when I could have killed someone and didn’t, and for all those times I miraculously found the right words.

Amen.

Moment I Never Saw Coming: Dawn apologized. There must have been an ice cream social in at least part of Hell on Wednesday. Loyal followers will remember that she was a complete and total, how you say?, BEEEE-YOTCH at our “family” dinner Monday. But then, on Wednesday, we had the following brief conversation.

HER: Mama, I just want to tell you I love you and im sorry.

ME: Who are you and why do you have my daughter’s phone?

HER: You would think that since this don’t seem like something that would be coming from me but the last to days I have been really thinkin

ME: Well, this is the first time you’ve apologized for anything unprompted.

HER: I was rude the other day and I have not thanked you for your help and I greatly apprieate it all I do

The spelling and grammar is all hers—as an English teacher, I sometimes feel like a complete and utter failure—however, I think it’s pretty decent for someone with an IQ that barely passes the MR status who dropped out at the beginning of tenth grade.

But it was an APOLOGY. And it was not bullied out of her by her older sister (I asked.) It wasn’t brought on by anything she wanted or needed (She hasn’t asked.) It just happened. And it never has before.

Random Blog Stuff:  Since I now have 14 followers (YAY ME!!!) I have to have a party.  How do I do that on-line? Should we have a theme?  Strippers?  A pony ride?  Both?  Who's bringing the ice??

And now, for the Pervy Penguin: 

You know you wanted to seem him. 

Is it just me, or is it just flat WRONG to attach a pacifier to the end of the hose?

Or do I just have a dirty mind?

************************************************

So that's it for the week. 

For the upcoming one, I'm hoping for some calmness, full of nights of  uninterrupted sleep, the occasional home-cooked meal, the teenagers getting along at least two nights, and more days of perfect weather.

Here's hoping you get some of the same--with or without the pervy penguin!

Congratulations, It's a Lesbian!

I guess the title pretty much says it all. 

I just got home from a two-and-a-half-hour-heart-to-heart-drive-and-talk with Danae, in which we have arrived at these facts and ideas:

1. Yes, she is gay, even though she hates that label.
2. The word "butch" is no longer socially acceptable....  it's either stud, fem or stem. I asked where she fell in that, and she smiled and said, "Oh, I'm definitely a fem." (Does anyone else see the irony in that?)
3. She was scared to tell us--trust issues, acceptance, going-to-hell speeches, dating issues, etc. Basically-- "Oh my GodAllahBuddha, what will happen now?" fears.
4. For hubby and me, her sexuality is a non-issue.  It's all about appropriateness, no matter whose team she bats for. 
5. It is not appropriate to share a locked bedroom with your sweetie. 
6. This will require a new level of honesty for her, with us as her parents.  Is this new person a friend, or a "friend?" She agreed that it would be difficult, but she understood, and agreed to try. 
7. Sex for people who have been sexually abused is a much bigger deal than it is for people who haven't. 
8. Given that she is navigating both issues, our biggest concern isn't that she's gay, or possibly becoming sexually active, it's that she navigates those issues with a clear head and someone she can depend on to talk to about her fears and feelings. 
9. The idea of flashbacks scares her. A lot.  It scares me too.  I don't want her to be in the middle of one of the many intense firsts that comes with burgeoning sexuality and have a flashback. 

So, the mayhem of my Sunday slip 'o the tongue has been resolved, at least as much as it can be--  navigating teen sxuality is like hiring a tap dancer to check a minefield.  Completely dangerous, probably a little stupid, but someone has to do it.  We just have to do it a little differently now-- which is fine by us. 

I think other people must be totally and completely bored with their lives. Trust me, we're not! 

.

Okay, Maybe I Am Stupid

Have you ever said something you knew you REALLY shouldn’t have said, but you reallyreallyreallyreally wanted to? I did that Sunday. And it has caused some interesting complications.

This weekend, Danae’s “friend” Annette spent the night Saturday. I knew they were more than friends. However, I stuck my giant emu ass up in the air and buried my head in the very nice sand because I didn’t want the fight and the lies and the drama. More emotional honesty, right?

All that was working out just fine—until I got up at 3:45 a.m. to go to the bathroom. I heard giggles and talking from Danae’s room, and went to tell them they probably needed to get some sleep, (I know, I know, but at least she can’t get knocked up. Remember the emu image? Thought so.) I did my usual knock three times and turn the knob.

It was locked.

And it was a loooooooong time before Danae got to the door. I was not pleased. But I had two hours to sleep before the baby alarms woke up, so took my tail feathers back to bed.

So, fast forward to us dropping off Annette. I hugged her, wished her a happy birthday. And then, against all my better judgment, I whispered, “I’m not stupid.”

Now, I’d been contemplating two strategies. The first, a simple rainbow beach towel left on Danae’s bed with a note that said, “I know and I still love you.”

The second, talking with Annette. Annette has been honest with me about her sexuality, so in my head (in my defense all I can say is that I have been very sleep deprived… midnight bowling and solo baby duty) I thought if I talked to her it would open up doors for Danae.

So I whispered, “I’m not stupid.”

She jumped about thirteen feet away and bug-eyed stared at me for five full seconds. Then there was a crazy little “oh my god are you serious what do you mean oh my god” dance. When she stopped freaking right the hell out, she asked, very calmly if she could text me and talk later. I told her she could text me any time about anything she wanted to talk about.

Danae has a very good BS meter. Eighteen placements and 60+ caseworkers will do that to a kid. She was not pleased that something was clearly up. (And there have been several instances when she had the chance to open up to us about her sexuality, and hasn’t. I hate that I’ve been lied to, but I totally understand the reasons and the logic.)

So, long story short (damn, I’m a rambler!), Annette and I had a long text conversation that ended with me saying this, “Since a lot of what you’ve said to me tonight are things Danae has already said to me, I’m assuming you’re sharing what I’m saying to you. I’m good with that. Please tell her to notice the fact that I’m still sitting in the living room, and I have not ordered her to pack. In the grand scheme, this is not a big issue for us. However, we do need to talk about it.” No more texts from Annette.

This morning, Danae texted me to ask if we could go for a drive tonight to have a heart to heart, I accepted the date, and told her I loved her and to have a good day.

And then Dawn showed her ass, and FUBAR-ed the evening. So I’m writing this summary instead of navigating the “How To Manage Sleepovers and Dating with Your Lesbian Daughter” conversation.

To top things off, Annette’s 17th birthday is tomorrow, and it is the one month anniversary of her mom’s death, and we’d already given Danae permission to spend the evening with Annette and her family before I couldn’t keep my big mouth shut.

==insert huge sigh here==

What the #$%^&; was I thinking??

So if any of you have any words of advice, please… start typing. Now! Do it!!

Peez?

Weekly Wrap-up, May 1

Funniest Thing I didn’t Say:  Our anniversary ended up being a family bowling night, and trust me, we all suck.  We had fun though, and me especially, thanks to the internal gigglefest I had over a statement made by one of my daughters:

     Danae, actually said: I can’t even bowl straight!

     Me, said in my mind: That’s because you aren’t! (I snooped in her phone and found out that her “best friend” is actually her girlfriend. I don’t care, except for the fact that she’s been spending the night a lot, behind closed doors in the same bed. Straight or gay, I don’t think sharing a bed with your HS sweetie is appropriate.)

She doesn’t know we know. That’ll be a fun conversation. I've actually thought about buying her a rainbow beach towel and leaving it on her bed with a note that says, "I know, and I still love you" and putting the ball in her court.

Funniest Thing I Wish My Husband Would Have Said: (After I told him of my internal funny moment above...)“I know she doesn’t have much experience playing with balls, but you’d think she’d at least be able to put her finger in a hole.”

Best MoMo Moment:
     Me: Say please!
     Her: Peez!
      FINALLY!! I thought we’d never get her to say please!!

Cutest Child Moment: We got home from work, and I put MoMo down. She immediately trotted across the living room, grabbed a bottle of lotion, held it out to me and said, “Peez!” (She loves lotion. After bath time, she loves to clap her hands in it and help me lotion her.)

Then she put it down, clapped her hands and said, “Yay!!!!!” I love it when she applauds herself.  She does it at least once a day, and it never gets old.

Since then, she’s been saying it very regularly, having FINALLY learned that she generally gets what she wants, if we can figure out what it is, when she says “Peez!”

Most Heartbreaking “What if?” Moment That Popped Into My Head And Made Me Cry A Little:   What if the babies’ mama gets them back, and they one day walk into my classroom and don’t remember me?

Best new gadget: When we got our first tax check, my husband bought himself an IPod Touch. So when we got The Big One, I decided I was going to buy myself a video camera. Partially for the babies and teenagers, partially for my classroom, and partially because I want to participate in MeanGirlGarage’s odd video contests. So I bought a Flip Ultra HD digital video camera. I love it!! Amazing!! When I figure out how to post a video, I’ll put a cutie up of my two foster babies. (Can you tell that this week I learned how to link stuff in my blog?)

Best Saturday in a Long Time: I took all but one of the girls shopping yesterday. Having recently gotten a hellacious tax check, I wanted to buy them some clothes, and generally just spend some no-pressure time with them. We spent way too much money, but had a really good time. I don’t think all those people in line behind us for a dressing room at Bell’s will ever forgive us, but they’ll get over it.

Conundrums of the Week: First, should I start graduate school next week? It’s a year-long program for an EDS degree (halfway between a Master’s and Doctorate). My financial aid is done. All I have to do is register for classes. I can take two classes at a time, and they are all online. And if I do it, I can put off starting to pay for the loans for my Master’s again. If not, I have to start repaying them in July.

Second conundrum: Should I make or buy a Mother’s Day card for my foster babies’ mom? They are scheduled to visit their biomom on Thursday, and I thought it might be nice to give her a card, or make her one, with pics of her daughters in it. She is trying to work her case plan, and having seen her with the babies, she loves them… no doubt.

Third conundrum: To teach, or not to teach (summer school) that is the question. It’s damned hard to justify not doing it at a rate of about $45 an hour. But I do so love sleeping late, and working on my tan and reading list.

Funniest Thing That Happened to Someone Else:  My high-school-acquaintance-turned-online-friend/mentor/therapist is also navigating an interesting adoptive life.  Her experiences are chronicled on her hilarious blog, but the best (and by best I mean I wish I could have been there to record it to win money, or at least have it to go back and howl at again) that  I've heard in a long time, is this one: jesus is gross.  I laughed outloud 'til I teared up, read it to my daughters and one of their friends, and plan to share it with my husband if I get to hang out with him today. 

Stupidest Student Comment of the Week: "Man! We graduate in less than two months. I need to stop gettin high after school and finish my credit recovery class."

Moment I Could Lose my Job Over:  I have a student in my AP English Lit class who qualified for the state track meet in three events. The problem is that if she goes to the state meet, she'll miss the AP test. The AP test determinse if she is eligible to be granted college credit for the class.  AP exams are only offered once a year and are not rescheduled.  I thought a lot about my initial reaction: "WHAT? My class isn't the center of your world?  Are you KIDDING ME??"  Then I met reality. We shook hands.  Then he shook me. 

So, I told her mom that if my opinion counted for anything, she should go to the track meet--she's worked for that far harder and much longer than she ever thought about working for the AP Test, and (I didn't say this to the mom), has a better chance for success at the meet.  Here's hoping the mom likes honesty. My boss has a history of hating it.

Biggest Duh Moment: Dawn acted like herself. Why do I continually expect that she’s going to suddenly not be selfish, immature and wrapped up in Dumbass Boyfriend? To quote someone I heard a long time ago, why on earth would you buy a gorilla and expect it not to want bananas? She’s spent the last few days with a friend babysitting, and was supposed to come back this afternoon. I still hadn’t heard from her at 5:15 after texting her five times during the day. I only know she’s not planning to be here tonight because Marie called to tell me.

Something New to Worry About: Marie told me that Dumbass Boyfriend wouldn’t ALLOW Dawn to change clothes, put on make-up or brush out her hair to go run errands with Marie Friday. She wasn’t ALLOWED? What the hell kind of crazy, gonna-turn-out-to-be-a-psycho shit is that? Marie asked Dawn about that later, and Dawn says he’s just worried she’s going to cheat on him or find someone better. Duh. Just almost anyone would be better than him.

Random Thing That Pissed me Off: I saw a commercial today for multivitamins—one for teen girls and one for teen guys. The commercial pointed out that guys and girls have different needs—girls want clear skin and boys want good muscle development. Really.

So when I was a cheerleader and was trying to get my jumps better, I was really only worried about having clear skin, and not my aching shoulder and calf muscles? And the guy I dated who had such bad skin that he wore more make up than my cheerleading squad combined was actually more interested in trying to get buff.

Yeah. That makes total sense.

I Was Totally Shocked When Leigh came out of her room in clean (albeit brand new clothes) with makeup on, and her hair done. She looked great! And didn’t smell!

Happiest Blog Moment:  I have seven followers!  Yay!!  Someone out there might *actually* be reading this silliness! We should totally have a party when I hit double digits!

Coming up this week: Well, the issues presented in the first two parts of this weekly wrap up have been keeping Hubby and me hopping and my text inbox full this evening. I’m sure I’ll be writing more about that this week, after some of the debris has settled and the National Whatever Board comes to finish the investigation into whether or not parents should back their kids into corners to discuss their sexuality.

I’m sure there will be more horrible poo and people being themselves, but the weather looks promising, and I don’t have to do progress reports until next week. Which means I still have a little bit of time to catch up on grading.

Yay.