I'm no Siskel & Ebert......

This ISN'T a spoiler so you can keep reading. :) I have looked forward to this movie for months. Yesterday I finally got a chance to see it. Honestly, for the first part of the movie I was an unhappy person. My expectation was that it was hilarious from beginning to end. Instead it had an actual story line that had some depth to it. It was way over the kids heads. It was sweet but sad. I am not a crier but had I been in the mood at the time that movie would definitely have done the job. It did get much better in the funny department. The first part that was so good but sad really set the scene for the rest of the movie and the movie wouldn't be the same without it. The movie is very symbolic and has in my opinion the best message a Disney/Pixar movie has ever had. It had no political agenda and it wasn't a commercial for Greenpeace. It was about life. It was good. Just go in knowing it's serious and has some potential for tears. My kids LOVED it. I will purchase it when it comes out.

Perspective

I'm an avid reader and have read a little bit of everything. I've been kinda memoir crazy lately. I've gotten hold of some real winners and some real stinkers. Reading about the lives of others has given me perspective. All in all I've lead a very simple and sheltered life. My life isn't without pain and dysfunction but it doesn't hold a candle to some of the horror people have lived through.

The common factor with the largest percentage of the memoirs I've read is drama. The other percentage were written by famous people. Famous people are interesting by default. I wonder if a memoir written by a member of the hoi polloi would fall flat. Reading someone's travel log of sunshine and daisies might not hold a person's interest. It would be a welcomed change, though, to the pile of heartaches and drama I've been reading about. I enjoy reading blogs. I would definitely buy a book (or at least check it out of the library) written by any of the bloggers I follow. There's definitely something to be said for normal/average but clever.

I finished a book today called Manic by Terri Cheney. She was one of Michael Jackson's lawyers. She suffers from Bipolar Disorder. I didn't really love it. The last one I read was about an entire family with Bipolar Disorder and I shouldn't have read the two back to back. I'm sure some of it was lost on me because I was too busy comparing and contrasting. Anyway... one part really stuck out given the topic of my last blog. She talks about her relationship to food. When I first read it it was really an aha moment for me. Here's what it said: "...My identity was tied up in a size six body- or better yet, a size four. This to me meant more than pretty. It meant disciplined, empowered, in control: all the attributes I secretly knew I lacked." I totally got that statement. I feel that way too.

I haven't gotten tired of memoirs yet so I'll press on. I should probably change my method of picking them out, though. So far I just go for the ones with pretty or covers (see above). So far that hasn't really served me well.

Who's This I'm Trapped In & How Do I Make Her Leave?

I was a gymnast when I was a kid. I spent hours a day for years manufacturing a lean muscular physique. When my metabolism started to slow I began adding weight. I kissed my gymnast physique goodbye in my mid 20's. I was still thin though.

At some point (I think after I turned 30) I totally lost track and didn't care. I ate what I wanted and sat around and watched TV. I saw a picture of myself a couple of years ago and I just lost it. It was like 2 me's sitting there. I was HUGE!!!! I almost immediately started exercising an hour a day and eating practically nothing. I lost 20 pounds and felt MUCH, MUCH better about myself and my life.

Well... I haven't gotten quite as big as I was but I've ballooned again. It's sad. I do not like what I see in the mirror. SO.... I begin again. This week I'm working on getting my intake under control. Next week I'll tack on some exercise (rain, rain go away!!!).

My question yesterday was this: Is it worth it? Eating what I want and when I want it makes me a nice person. I get what I call "Mean Hungry" when I don't eat regularly. I've been that all week. The day before yesterday I was not fit for human company. I was a "oxygen thief" my husband would say. I was MEAN and I knew it. I had to apologize to my oldest and her friend because my control freak came out and ripped them a new one for coming in through the garage (a perfectly acceptable entrance to our home) instead of coming in through the front door where they went out. (Imagine music from Psycho here)

The half hearted internet search I performed yielded the notion that I fall into to the average category when compared to other women in the US. According to all the healthy weight charts, however, I'm overweight. For me this creates internal conflict. I can feel ok with my average self or I can reign in my liberal style of nutrient intake and be better than average. It makes me mad that life is like that. That same internal battle can be over anything. For me it's body image. For someone else it could be about education, career, parenting, etc. Knowing it's likely everyone's battle doesn't make it any easier for me. I'm tormented.

One of the biggest mistakes my mother made was fixating on my chuncky pre-pubescent self. I went through a phase of being pudgy. My mother (who at the time was a very cruel person) taught my brothers (one older and one younger) to sing "fatty fatty 2x4 can't fit through the bathroom door" while I was at the table eating. She also encouraged them to "oink" at me while I was eating. It's solely by the grace of God that I don't have an eating disorder from that phase in my life. It stands to reason, though, that the year or two all that was going on pinched my psyche enough to cause body image issues.

The truth is that I like who I am. I just want to like me and be thin too. I don't think that's too much to ask. The question remains. Is it worth it?

Me hammin' in borrowed clothes from my Granny after a stop over at her house on my way home from an out of state gymnastics meet. (I was unprepared for an unexpected warm snap)

Happy & Angry!

I spent the weekend at my parent's home with family. It was awesome. For the first time since before I can remember I spent an entire day (Sunday) without leaving the house. I slept in because my children were in the loving and capable hands of my mom. When I got up we had breakfast together as a family. We sat around and talked for hours while the kids played with a neighbor. We had yummy food for an early dinner and later watched a movie. Monday was much the same except I had to drive home in the evening. It was something akin to an actual vacation. (The kind where you actually relax instead of going from one touristy place to another) At one point I got to sit outside in peace and just relax in the quiet. It was AWESOME!!!!!!

Then...we got home

Today my children make me nuts. Sometimes my inner control freak gets out and REALLY wants to roll heads. This is one of those moments. The young one very skillfully pushes my buttons. All evening she's been toying with me. She just grins when I lose it. She loves it.

Artsy Relaxation & Family Ties

I love to color. I went out yesterday and bought myself a geometric shapes coloring book. I've colored a bunch of pages already. I also bought myself a new set of Crayola Twistables Colored Pencils. YAY! What hasn't been fun is keeping my children away from it. I explained to them that this was MY TOY. They don't seem to grasp that concept. For the most part they believe that what is theirs is solely theirs and what is mine is theirs to share. I think not. I was coloring last night and my youngest decided that she wanted to color too. At my insistence she begrudgingly went into her room and grabbed her own crayons and coloring book. She started coloring and decided that she didn't have the color she NEEDED. Iterestingly enough it was the color that was on top of my pile of colors. I found her the color in her stack that she was sure she didn't have. Plot foiled. :)

Between this blog (which has been helpful in the area of purging my brain) and my new coloring book I'm feelin' pretty good. I'm a lot more relaxed. The gorgeous skies the last couple days have helped as well. Today I'm driving down to my parent's place for the weekend. It'll be good. There's nothing like relaxing at home and letting the gradparents spoil the children.

Memories

My love language is quality time. The very best part of quality time with someone is that you're immersed in the now. The now when you're with someone is where memories are made. You can spend a lifetime reliving old memories (which is MEGA FUN sometimes) but making new memories is where it's at. I had a friendship almost completely unravel because of dwelling too much on the past. Fortunately that friend is still around and we're working on new memories that'll sustain us for the rest of our lives. (Shout out to my friend... Love Ya.. You know who you are)Last night my oldest and I went for a long walk (quality time). At some point during our mecca to no place a memory was triggered. When I was a kid my family would vacation in Virginia. I remember hours upon hours in the car crammed into the backseat with my two brothers. Upon reaching our destination (the house of some family friends) I would climb out of the car and take in a huge sniff of air. I could not get enough of the sweet mountain air. It smelled to me like clean flowers. I realize that probably makes no sense to you. You'll just have to trust me that it's the MOST AWESOME smell. So anyway, last night while we were out walking I smelled the smell. It was the most awesome moment, a moment I've dreamed of for years. What was awesome about the moment was that I was enjoying that rich smell that I positively loved as a child with my child. She smelled it too and loved and appreciated it with me. That was an in the now moment that we'll both remember.

A down side to foster parenting older children is that we miss the sweet early years. In some way it's hard to gain the connection with them that their bio parents have because we miss out on those years. It is cool indeed when something happens that creates a simple sweet memory. Taking them places and doing things is good, but the things that impact them the most are the simple memories. The moments like the kid and I had last night. Those are the times I want her to remember when she's older. I couldn't help the first 9 years of her life but I can make new and safe memories for her now by sharing my time with her. There's something very powerful about that realization.

Finally some Draino!

I've discovered the reason for the clogged quill that has kept me from writing more often before. I've been thinking too hard about it. I've been following some spectacular blogs written by intelligent and VERY witty people. I have thoroughly enjoyed every word. What struck me is that they write about the ordinary and I love it. I don't require anything deep and cerebral to be entertained.

I like to think of myself as a cerebral person. I don't think I really am. I think I'm actually rather shallow. I think I thought I appreciated depth. Truthfully I enjoy surface humor. I find fits of laughter over bodily noises to be very cathartic. I am not a fan of the overly serious.

I enjoy writing very much. There are people who enjoy reading what I write. As much as I've always wanted to publish I freeze up thinking about it. It hurts my brain. I enjoy much better writing just to vent and perhaps entertain. I feel better about blogging than I ever have about writing something serious. It's a BEAU TI FUL thing to write just because I enjoy it instead of writing for a mysterious purpose. So here's to shallow fluff!

I'm Not A Cynic, Really!... OK.. Yes I Am

Thank you Snarky Mom for posting some of these.

Perusing www.wrongcards.com has really helped me get in touch with my inner cynic. That's a positive thing really. For so long I've kept my mouth shut and played nice while "the-powers-that-be" rule my life. I'm SO fed up with government agencies dictating my daily life. It will be SO GOOD when it is over. At the end of this I will have either have two kids with whom I can be haphazard and spur of the moment OR I will have none. At this point either seems almost fine. Right now I'm at the point where I feel like saying... "Don't even mention all the children waiting for adoption. Governments are idiots. The case workers I've worked with HAVE NO IDEA what being a foster parent is really like. You can beg and plead for people to adopt, but having been victims of the broken system for a while I think who in their right mind would choose to live this way!!!!????"

I haven't snapped. I'm just being honest. I'm frustrated with what the law allows. The big mantra in foster care training is "It's about the kids". I say to that BULL EXCREMENT. It's not about what's best for the kids. It's about following blind guidelines written by a bunch of people who HAVE NO IDEA!!! I'm preparing myself for the potential for my kids to go back to parents who will ultimately abuse and neglect them like they did before. I don't really think that will happen, but I have to prepare myself because not doing so would certainly be setting myself up. My husband and I have put a lot into these kids. If they go back it will certainly make their lives worse than they were before because they'll no longer be blissfully ignorant. They know what life is supposed to feel like now. They know what life is like with parents who encourage you to do well in school, who are sure you get to school and are there when you get home, who want to hear about your day, who care about your safety 24/7, etc. The postcard at the top is cynical, but for lots of children in foster care it's the truth. I kinda feel like I should be teaching them ways to survive with parents who will abuse substances and live very very selfish lives despite how it hurts their children.

We had a foster child for a month once. She ultimately was taken by an aunt and uncle. I got a call a couple weeks ago from a friend of that family begging me to take the child back. The family loves her but their natural children are abusing her. We were prepared to adopt her to start with and we had more to offer than that family did, but again, it's not about what's best. It's about how the laws are written. That child had a chance and has now been damaged further because of the system. She loved us and would have been happy as a clam to stay but that's not how it went down.

If I don't end up adopting the kids I have now I will end up VERY bitter and may not ever be the same again. With that said... my husband has said more than once that this too shall pass. He has already said whether or not we get the kids we should consider doing foster care again in the future. I think he's crazy, but I love his heart.

The Dark Side of Cute & Fuzzy

Cute, right? Sweet little ears. Big brown eyes (blink, blink). Little nose that wiggles all the time. Cuddly, snuggly. Loves to give kisses. A lovely little house rabbit.

Yes, he is all these things. His name is Hareold and he's my sweet bunny boy.

The problem that we have is that his rabbitness combined with his man-ness make him hormonal/horny. Throw in territorial and rude just for good measure.

Likely because I'm the one that gives him the most attention he has decided that I am his. 90% of the time he's a good, sweet rabbit that just wants some petting. The other 10% of the time he wants to nip at my wrist or "passionately" grab my arm. This morning he did the positively unpardonable. He has only done it once before. After some sweet bunny nuzzling and morning kisses he hopped off, kicked his feet up in the air and sprayed me with "rabbit sauce". Until you have been sprayed with rabbit sauce you can't really appreciate how disgusting it is. And... I was getting ready to walk out the door so I had to quickly go change clothes. BAD WABBIT!!!

The terrible part is today when I get home he's gonna sit up and "incline his ears" I call it. I need to get a picture because it is the cutest expression a lop eared rabbit could possibly make. I'll forgive the little beast. I know I will. I'm such a sucker. My husband keeps telling me we can turn him into Hassenpheffer. I assure him that even if he did manage to murder the rabbit's cute little self and cook him that he could never really eat him. He assures me that I'm wrong, but I know I'm not. I have a personal policy which states I will never eat something that I have looked in the eyes. He may not claim that policy for himself, but I know him pretty good and he's really a softy.

I Love Animals Because People Are Yucky!

Right at this very moment I am absolutely disgusted with humans. I've decided that on my island I'll just have animals.

The thot plickens relative to our foster adopt situation. We have an unusual situation where we know people from both the mother's and the father's family. This enables us to hear rumblings of what the parents of these kids are thinking. I just heard from the foster mom of one of the girl's brothers the latest gossip. Neither one of us has any idea if there's any truth to it. What we do know is that we're positively sickened by it. Again, my life has morphed. It's crazy how each piece of anything I hear warps my view of the future. I was hoping this experience to be the pretty silly putty copied cartoon where everything transfers beautifully. Instead it's becoming all stretched and unrecognizeable. I feel like the kid on Charlie & The Chocolate Factory (Johnny Depp version) that they had to put in the taffy puller to stretch out after he got shrunk into the television.

All of this is easily recognized as an "emotionally difficult time" in my life. This blog is quickly becoming an emotional vomit outlet. The notion of reading barf does not sound good. But, like flies to a zapper people are drawn to drama. I personally love drama. I just prefer the drama of others. I know, I'm bad.

Odd Soreness & Backseat Drivers

I'm old. No, really. I'm old. My age may not clue you in to that, but it's true. I hurt today. I kept waking up last night because my legs hurt. Specifically, my hamstrings were killing me. You'll never guess why.

That is why: A giant cat we call Caipotamus (Pot-Pot for short). She's as old as the hills. Her kidneys are starting to function improperly causing her liquid excretions to melt and harden the litter instead of clumping it. Her litter box starts out sand and every morning I go in and it's paved. So yesterday it was particularly bad. I went to excavate it and it proved very difficult. At one point I considered renting a jackhammer. For the duration of my excavating activities I was in kind of a half squat position and leaned over. My hamstrings have been killing me ever since.

This morning I was taking my 6 year old to school. I was lost in thought about how sore I am when all of the sudden from the backseat I hear "Hey Lady, it's not like there's someone in front of you, you don't have to go so slow!" She is quite the little backseat driver. She's pretty good at heckling drivers (wonder where she got that from?). She does, however, not understand the nuances of driving and speed, etc. At the time we were in a residential area known for it's hyper vigilant "gray hairs". What she failed to recognize is there was probably a rouge little old lady hiding behind a bush with HPD on speed dial and binoculars so she could read my tag and turn me in. Moreover, the offending vehicle in front of me was probably being driven by one of her buddies up and down the street acting as a pace car for us would be speed demons.

Funny I Am

Just so ya know.... in my head I'm terribly witty.

Binge & Purge

Have you heard those odd warm up sounds singers sometimes make? It makes me laugh. I'm tickled by the process. It reminds me somewhat of how I process emotionally. I take in and take in and take in and then all of the sudden piles of gobbledy gook flow from my brain. It's kind of like binging and purging. It has been pointed out to me on more than one occasion that I don't emote normally or near enough. The last couple of weeks have been a real roller coaster with our current foster situation. For whatever reason it's been really easy for me to observe my own process. The worst day of it I really needed to cry (like a real gully washer kind of cry). I couldn't get in touch with the person I found acceptable to cry with over the particular circumstance. So, like usual I stuffed it. That's the binge portion of my process. I take in all the emotional stuff and I completely stuff myself. Sometimes when I'm in that mode I add to it by watching sad movies or looking at old pictures that make me sad. I don't do it to make me worse. I do it thinking it will bring relief by forcing me to emote. It never does. I have actually wished that it were as easy as triggering my gag reflex to let it all go. Unfortunately, more often than not it's something completely non related that starts the emotional purge. Then people that are close to me are caught off guard because I say a bunch of non related and overthought things that make no sense (like the aformentioned warm up sounds). Fortunately I am blessed with a precious and priceless support system that endures my emotional wierdness.

Really? Skee Ball?

Having foster to adopt children is a weird thing in a number of ways. Family dynamics is particularly odd. We have maintained a tie to both sides of their bio family. Pretty regularly I take my girls to visit people that they know from a part of their lives I wasn't a part of. It's cool because it's healthy for them. It's weird because I don't fit in. I always feel like I'm eavesdropping. They're just people. They're also people grateful to see the girls. It just feels odd for me. I really am painfully shy. New environments are very difficult for me. These people must think I'm such a snot. I hate that, but it is what it is.

I went a new place tonight. We went to their maternal aunt's in-law's house. They were really sweet and the kids had a blast. They live out in no man's land in an ancient tiny house with dead things mounted all over the walls. I spent most of the night staring back at a raccoon that was staring at me from the top of the entertainment center. Just above me was a mink. He didn't look happy. Behind me were 4 deer heads, one shot by each family member (Including the mother). Isn't that special? :) The people were wonderful, dinner was great, but I felt like city mouse gone to the country.

We've all been kinda crammed into each other's lives. Sometimes I feel like I'm part of a really sick psychological experiment. I feel like tapping on the one way glass. I haven't decided yet what I would say to the people watching all this unfold.

If you've ever played Skee Ball I'm sure you'll understand this analogy. When you first put your money into the machine there's a loud click and all the balls come rumbling down the chute. I feel like each chapter of this odd drama I'm living starts just like a game of Skee Ball. We get news, meet someone new, hear a different traumatic story from one of the girls, etc. I hear a loud click and another chapter rumbles down the chute. I don't know about you, but I've never been able to walk away with balls still in the chute. I have to play it out. This process is like that. So many people have said to me that they don't know how we do it. It's simple really. We roll one ball at a time. Sometimes we collect little orange tickets in heaven and sometimes we roll a zero. We continue to play though because that's what we signed up for when we walked up to the machine.

Caffeine!!!!

So on my way home from the concert I decided I required a Pibb Extra and some powdered donuts. DUH! So now it's midnight and I'm buzzin'. Scott is fixin' to watch this guy that's kinda crazy and talks about the stock market. I usually can't stand it but right now I can probably hang in there with him. I call him Gilbert because his voice reminds me of Gilbert Gottfried. He's really annoying and he's talking about stuff I don't understand.

I enjoyed the concert. I ended up not really people watching. The arena where we were doesn't really lend itself to much people watching so I just watched the people on the stage. (Like normal people do)

I knew Casting Crowns before they were famous. It was really surreal to see them as "famous people". They don't seem any different. I would like to think that if I became famous I would remain true to me and still remember the little people. They still knew my name. That was really cool. I was hoping they would remember me but wasn't expecting them to so my feelings wouldn't be hurt.

Somethin' Different

So, contrary to my usual, I'm going to a concert tonight. I'm taking my oldest to a Casting Crowns concert. I happen to like Casting Crowns very much. Once upon a time we all went to church together. I gave up concerts years ago because they are expensive and loud and had more fun watching people than I did listening to really loud music. I don't believe it's necessary to pass along this particular weirdness to my kid. I don't mind paying the price to support Casting Crowns either because in a small way they feel like family. She is so excited. I'm excited for her. It'll be fun to experience this with her.

Foster Pregnancy

Yesterday did not end the way I had planned. I knew it would be a bad day but I truly had no idea. The girls bio mom changed her mind after the goodbye visit. Now it's back to a trial to terminate her rights. Fortunately the trial date is already set and hasn't changed because of what she did last week. It just makes the situation sadder. She doesn't even love them enough to do what's right for them. She's a very selfish person. Don't think I'm a monster for saying these things. The story is horrible and I'm not gonna repeat it here. You'll just have to trust me on that.

I woke up this morning sick to my stomach. On many occasions I've likened this experience to being pregnant. My body isn't being stretched but I do on occasion suffer physiologically. This is one of those times. I've been "pregnant" now for 15 months and STILL I'm not guaranteed a child. Until yesterday I had a "due date". Now that's been prolonged. There is still hope for November but I'm not gonna hold my breath.

In the shower this morning I was reminded of an old camp song "Put your hand in the fan and you will lose a finger, put your foot in the fan and you will lose a toe, put your face in the fan and you will look at others differently, out your body in the fan and it'll change your anatomy." It needs another verse along the lines of emotions or family. That's what I feel right now about foster care. It feels more like a blender instead of a fan. I feel like I've been beaten and left for dead.

Laughter

I just silently laughed so hard I almost hurt myself. I did, however, manage to stifle all guffaws such that my coworkers didn't know I was up to mischief. I was reading a blog that squarely goes into the category "Darn Funny". I will definitely go back later when I can "hoot" out loud such that I don't blow a gasket.

Today is the last visit with our kids bio-mom. I can't wait until tomorrow when the nightmare is over. It promises to be difficult. We get the great honor or meeting with her first so she can beg us to let her to continue to see her children. I've sworn to silence and Scott has taken the speaking role. That is definitely for the best. Hopefully she won't push to the point where he has to tell her how we really feel.

This journey has been difficult. It's very hard to want two opposing things. In my heart I really wanted my girls' mom to get her life straight and fight for her children. I knew all along that if she did that I would lose my children. She didn't and they're gonna be mine forever. I should be grateful but right now I'm angry for them. I've livid that she didn't fight for her children. That will go with them forever. We can offer those girls so much more than she ever could, but they love their mom and one of these days it's gonna sink it that she didn't love them enough to do anything to get them back. It stings now, but it's really gonna sting when they are old enough to fully understand it.

I laughed hard this morning. I hope it's enough to counteract what I'll feel this afternoon.