More surgery for The Daughter

She's going under general anesthesia for the second time in two months time. Nervous. This time on her eye lid near her tear duct. Scary.

In Kindergarten The Daughter started having eye issues. First I think was pink eye, then a sty, but it may have been in reverse order. I'd have to look it up to be for sure and I'm too lazy to do that. The red lump on her lower lid came and went every couple of months. Inside would be red and sometimes have white bumps. I was worried about it and thought it was a fever blister in her eye but her pediatrician adamantly denied anyone could get fever blisters in the eye. So, lacking the MD beside my name, I went with his words and just fretted over her eye in private. A year later and it was getting worse so I consulted Dr Google. Turns out fever blisters in the eye CAN happen so I called the pediatrician's nurse for a referral to an ophthalmologist. She actually laughed at me for thinking anyone could get a fever blister in the eye. LAUGHED. But she gave me the name and number of an ophthalmologist and I called them. Earliest they could see The Daughter was May ... until I told them what I suspected was wrong ... they saw her the next day. Turns out eye doctors actually realize the seriousness of shit going on in and around the eye. You know, because it affects things like sight.

Because they squeezed us in so quickly, I didn't complain when we waited in one waiting room for 2 1/2 hours and in another for 1 1/2 hours. I didn't complain when we had to pay out of pocket for an eye exam (with eye chart - like for getting glasses) before ever seeing the doctor. I didn't complain when the doctor spent all of 3 minutes in the room with us before diagnosing The Daughter with a chalazion and scheduling surgery. I didn't complain when we then had to drive to another location for blood work and preop stuff. I didn't complain when the anesthesiologist, who is ex Navy, had no bedside manner with little kids. But, I did draw the line when a woman whose name tag said "administrator" took The Daughter's temp and listened to her chest and proclaimed The Daughter needed to head straight to the ER because she had bronchitis. WTF lady? So we had to get an RN to confirm and she said the same. I wasn't convinced. The Daughter was hot because she was dressed for the 26 degree weather of that morning and it was then 60 degrees that afternoon. She was snotty because she was crying from having her finger pricked and being told every single gory detail of her procedure thanks to Mr ExNavy's lack of kid skills. But she felt fine and I wasn't about to call an ambulance for a healthy child with a slightly elevated temp and a booger in her nose. They insisted we head straight over to the pediatricians office. Maybe they're all in cahoots together to see how many copays they can possibly get from one person in one day (three from us, as it turns out). The Ped wasn't taking any more patients for the day, but we could drive the 40 miles back there the next day, miss more school, and have them label us loco for coming in as a sick patient when there are no sick symptoms. We declined. She's fine. I've been checking her temp obsessively and it's a completely normal 98.6 and she's booger free.

As long as Ms Administrator and her friend the RN aren't involved in The Daughter's surgery, it'll be okay. Though if they scrub in, I might just have to pull the plug and go elsewhere.

I'm glad she doesn't have a fever blister in her eye. Very glad. But I also wish that her Ped wasn't so dismissive over the past year so that we could have gotten her treatment for the chalazion sooner. Like when in office treatment would have remedied the situation instead of needing a scalpel to cut out scar tissue. Mom guilt is so fun. Not.

Please send good thoughts to her today. She is a brave 6 year old, but understandably worried.

Happy Birthday BabyBoy

BabyBoy is now 2 years old! He can no longer get into events for free. Boooo! It's about a year past when he should have been weaned from the bottle. He'll spend much of this year figuring out the whole potty thing, and the rest of his life figuring out how to aim. Now is when clothes stop saying months and start saying years. Though with his chubby yet short stature I expect he'll always be in "husky" clothing. I just can't believe it's been two whole years since the investigative SW placed a 4lb 10oz wrinkly sweet baby in my arms. It took two years to finalize the adoption, more than a year after TPR. Two years of getting to parent this happy, energetic, inquisitive cherub-cheeked gorgeous baby boy. But hey, now I can blame his defiance and explosive tantrums on The Terrible Twos. Goody.

Beer Bread and Banana Pudding

My Momaw made banana pudding every time our family got together for an event. Then she got dementia and later Alzheimers which meant her pudding was either funky or missing all together. During one of her more lucid moments, I was able to get her recipe. Not long after, she passed away. I've been trying to carry on her tradition ever since.

Banana Pudding
1 1/2 cups sugar
3 Tbs flour
4 egg yolks
1 cup milk
3 Tbs butter
1 Tbs vanilla flavoring

Mix all ingredient in pan and cook until thick. Layer sliced bananas, Nilla Wafers, and Pudding in bowl, starting with pudding on the bottom. Top with meringue. To make meringue beat 4 egg whites until they peak. Add 1/2 cup sugar and 1 teaspoon vanilla and beat until stiff peaks form. Bake in oven until meringue browns slightly.

There was a message board that I frequented while Darwin was active duty. On there someone posted a recipe for Beer Bread. It's so easy to make and goes well with stews and chili.

Beer Bread
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease loaf pan.

Mix together:
3 cups self rising flour
3 Tablespoons sugar
1 can of beer (at room temperature)

Don't over mix the dough. It should be lumpy. Pour in pan and bake 1 hour @ 350 degrees.

If you are looking for a more traditional bread recipe, check out Cheryl's easy homemade white bread. Looks yummy.

Housework is HARDwork

So The Husband, who will be called Darwin from now on, comes home one day complaining of a headache and saying his feet were killing him. I replied "Oh, did you have a bad day at work?" Turns out he had to clean all day *gasp*. He said "I was on my feet ALL DAY." Hmm, imagine that. Wonder what SAHMs do all day? Sit around watching soaps and eating Bon Bons? Nope, we clean, we cook, we change dozens of dirty diapers, we bathe kids, we feed kids, we play with kids, we clean up after kids, we teach kids, we run errands, we plan and prepare meals, we pay bills, we set a budget, we do load after load of laundry, and if we are lucky we might get to eat a bite of food and get an uninterrupted shower IF the kids actually take a nap. But you know what he said to me? He said "At least you got to sit down in the van when you were taking The Daughter to school and picking her up from school." Oh yes he did! So I said "Did you not get breaks and an hour long lunch, free of people fighting for your attention, shitting on you, puking on you, snotting on you, and were you not able to sit down and eat your food before it got cold?" Grrr

The Circus

Phenergan saves the day

The Husband was sick this past weekend with a stomach virus. He was still vomiting on Monday and therefore missed work. I've been queasy for weeks and craving spicy foods (no, I'm not pregnant) which I don't normally like. I got all the laundry caught up, dishes sanitized, floors swept and mopped, and bathrooms bleached. I sprayed lysol and oust every couple of hours and cracked one window in each room for fresh air. I was preparing just in case I got The Husband's virus.

When I didn't get sick, I decided to scatter all our tax paperwork out in the living room floor and start sorting and preparing for getting taxes done. Yes, I was tempting fate. Then, The Husband comes home and tells me the date that he is leaving. For those of you who don't already know, he is leaving for overseas again. For a year. And then some other stuff I can't blog about until that year is up. But anyway, I began to cry and we had an hour long painful discussion that only stopped so we could get the kids in bed. Then we discussed some more. I cried some more. He went to bed in the germ infested bedroom where he had been sick and I slept on the couch, where nobody had thrown up or had ass piss so I thought was safe.

Around midnight I woke up with the unmistakable sweaty, shaky, shivering feeling of stomach acid vomit about to erupt. Then, I pooped my pants. Bet your glad you read this post while eating, huh. Your welcome.

Let's just say that I finally got to hang out with the Italian tile in our bathroom. Then my mom got off work and brought me some Phenergan, and took the two youngest kids home with her. The Husband had to go in to work early but said he would come back and get The Daughter for school. A pill and a half later and I finally stopped getting sick, but I was out like a light. Phenergan makes me sleep and when I wake up I am dizzy and can't think straight. I can only stay up long enough to use the bathroom and then I'm passing out again before I make it back to the bed. But, I love Phenergan because it makes me stop puking. Anything that makes me stop that is A Ok in my book.

Still a foster parent

Got a call today for two teenagers. The only information that was left on my voicemail was that they are 14 and 16 and have a problem with truancy. I was in a meeting of sorts so didn't get the message until about 30 minutes later. At that time they had already found a placement. I've never seen teens be placed so quickly. I think people are starting to be afraid of saying no. Or maybe they have more people willing to take in teens since they've been having tons more classes and adding foster families by the dozens. IDK

I was shocked to even get the call. But, I've been playing their game lately in hopes to be allowed to continue fostering and adopting, so I guess I played well? Is that even a good thing? Politics confuse me. I tend to see people and situations as either all good or all bad. It's hard to figure out this game and it's even harder to change who I am in order to see the good in a bad person or situation. To compromise a moral stance in order to gain in another area. How career politicians live with themselves is beyond me.

Here are some highlights:

Had a post placement visit for BabyGirl. Normal SW canceled, and one of the big dawgs came out instead. I killed her with kindness. I showed her around the house, pointing out empty bedrooms and empty beds. I pointed out all the things The Husband built/made and all the things we've decorated and planned for, etc. I gave her an updated financial form that reflects a significant increase in income. I let her know the ages of the kids we could foster at this time. I answered her questions that were none of her business. Then, I called my lawyer to let him know the angle the SW was trying to get at and how she could be shut down immediately (she was trying to say we had to have a CPS-style TPR for the adoption and we don't).

Had a semiannual review. Different SW came out to check the smoke alarms and fire extinguishers and to make sure we keep our drugs locked up. This woman is influential in the community. Old southern money kind of influential. Gave her the same tour as the woman before, updated financials, empty beds, ages of kids, etc. Then dropped some names. Chatted about some local stuff and an event where I had my pic taken with political people for a specific reason that was publicized locally and will be again at a key event.

Had a budget meeting that alerted me to some things.

Helped at foodbank that alerted me to some other things.

Let a SW know of these things. Let her run with it like it was her idea. Watched as the corrupt CPS system did what it always does though this time it benefited me too.

Felt sick to my stomach knowing the only way to get things done is to play politics like this.

Wondered if I should just bow out and quit having to deal with this shit.

Had a meeting with another SW at her church where we are moving our meetings. I'm totally against moving our meetings, but this is one of those things I had to compromise on. Told this worker about updated financials (money talks - i don't care how many people says it doesn't, it does - it shouldn't matter this much, but locally it does), ages of foster kids we can currently foster, and plans of how I'll handle things when The Husband works away from home. Gossiped.

Got more bad news about a former foster parent who is my friend who is being treated poorly due to some false allegations and the three female big dawgs taking her down because they don't like her non-religious very big family.

Decided that this all isn't worth it. This shit sucks. I'll never be able to change the system. I'll never be able to really make a difference. I'm going to burn every fucking bridge I can find and get the hell out while I still have the choice.

Then, they called about the above mentioned placememnt. And a person of concern got dealt with. And the big dawgs backed me on an important matter. And someone decided they'd help my friend for a lesser fee than usual. And then some career politicians got involved. And then some real things started happening.

Now all I've got to do is find a pizza joint that'll sell us 20 pizzas a month at cost. Somehow that task no longer seems as daunting.

Preparing for War

Snowball Fight!




She rolled all parts of the snowperson all by herself.


Good thing he's so damn cute. 'Cause he's mean as a snake.

Blessed beyond measure

Once upon a time I thought I'd never get to be a mom. There seemed to be an insurmountable amount of roadblocks in the way. But I didn't give up. For a couple of decades I had to fight, and now I have arrived. I am a mom. And I couldn't be happier.

Politics and Racism

As I've written before, the Foster Parent Association is in the process of accepting nominations for officers. There is only one person who has said for sure he wants to run for the president position. Of course it's not the person CPS intends to have be president, but that's another post for another day. The guy who wants to run is Mr Ling. He has indicated concern that he may not get elected due to his being a different nationality. I can completely understand, given our location and the makeup of the association, but I've been encouraging him to run anyway. He would be a refreshing change and is a hard worker. We have a lot of talkers but not a lot of doers and Mr Ling is a do-er.

The current president calls me up on the phone.

Her "I don't think Mr Ling will be elected president."
Me "I'd rather it be him than Mr Superficial Fundamentalist Gossiping Hypocrite."
Her "Do you think people will discriminate due to Mr Ling being Hispanic?"
Me "... uhh ... umm ... Mr Ling is Asian."
Her "Oh, he is?!? I thought he taught the Spanish classes down at CPS.?."
Me "He did. He is multilingual."
Her "Wow."
Me "Is there anything we can do to advocate on his behalf to the association membership so they won't feel compelled to judge based on ill conceived notions and assumptions about his skin color?"
Her "Huh?"
Me "Nevermind"

And then we went to the budget meeting and the woman who is BFF with Mr Superficial Fundamentalist Gossiping Hypocrite was there. She is running for my position, vice president. Everyone else already knew but didn't tell me. They didn't mind letting me take charge and get our budget done. They didn't mind tasking me with our newsletter, again, since the secretary is basically useless. They didn't mind asking me to change the wording in our by laws, type up minutes from a board meeting that the secretary failed to document, help with the physical work at foodbank, take over cleaning the resource center again since the woman who took it from me has now quit, and they certainly didn't mind hanging out after I left to gossip and/or complain about me. It wouldn't have killed them to give me a little heads up that someone was gunning for my non-paid job. Tell me again why I do this?

Oh yeah, to stay in CPS's good graces and keep my resume active.

How to tell when someone else has been using your camera

The evidence:

Mom of the Year Award

I'm normally one of those overly prepared moms who has snacks for everyone's kid, a change of clothes, a diaper in every size, and a whole bunch of other stuff "just in case". But recently I packed The Daughter's bag for an overnight birthday party she was to attend and I left out one key item. See, this party is in another state. Yes, I hyperventilated about letting her leave the state with another mom. They went to a place that has an indoor pool because The Daughter's friend, Paprika, wanted to have a pool party for her birthday but their own pool is outdoors and it's kinda cold here right now (yes, she is spoiled but to each their own). I packed footed pajamas to keep The Daughter warm. I packed long sleeves and short sleeves, pants, 3 pairs of socks, 6 pairs of panties, a toothbrush, snacks, bottled water, extra money, a copy of our insurance card and a list of emergency numbers. But, I did not pack a swimsuit. I remembered about 4 hours after they left. Panic kicked in. Guilt kicked in. I felt like a failure of a mom. And then I just called to explain and turns out, Paprika's Mom planned for fuckups like me; she took extra swimsuits. Thank goodness.

Dear Debt Collectors

Dear Annoying Assholes Who Call Our House At All Times of the Day and Night,

No matter how many times you call our phone, we will never be Margaret Doe. No matter how many times you call our phone, we will never be Fred Doe. Nor will we be David or Monique or Tiffany or Jason. This is the Jane & John Doe residence. We aren't even really kin to any of the Does. See, I explain this to you every time you call. I can understand that you are in India (no offense to India - love your funky deities and free range animals) and English isn't your first language, so maybe you can't understand me. I'm writing this to you in hopes your comprehension of English is better when written.

MIL had 4 kids with Mr Doe, not the one you are looking for and none of the kids are people you are looking for, but anyway she left him and the kids and hooked up with an Amish dude. They had my husband and his brother (who's also not a name you are calling about) and since Mr Amish could fuck a commoner, but he couldn't marry her or else he couldn't go live with God when he dies, he flew the coop and MIL gave those 2 kids the same last name as her first 4 kids. I know it's confusing. They make fun of my southern family tree with it's single branches and shit, but honestly, theirs is also messed up.

When you call and say "Is this Jane Doe?" and I reply "Yes." and then you go to telling me that we have an overdue debt of $1352.00 at such and such bank that we've never heard of and I tell you that you are Fing crazy. Don't then think it's okay to say "Well, aren't you David Doe's wife?" You should lead with that. Start by asking to speak to David Doe or his wife. I know your job sucks and so I'll be nice to you when I tell you that you can mark our number off your list and keep calling all the rest of the Does in the phone book. I know that's what you are doing. I could tell when you called me last week. And the week before. And the week before that.

Don't call here saying you are from a monument company needing some information about Tiffany Doe's headstone. I'd gladly give you the information if I knew who the hell she was. You do get bonus points for creativity though.

Margaret Doe seems to have a bad habit of writing bad checks. I think she must be caught sometimes because the calls stop for a while, then we get local calls, then they stop, then nationwide calls. I guess that means shes on the run. If you call here one more time demanding that I am in fact Margaret Doe, calling me a liar when I tell you that isn't my name, I may just hunt you down and kill you. I have anger issues and I'm really good at hiding dead bodies.

So in closing, we Jane & John Doe, pay our bills on time all the time. We sometimes even pay them early. We've been known to pay things off years in advance. And though our last name is Doe, we aren't kin to all of them. We aren't even kin to any of them. Please stop calling our house. Especially at 2am when you'd know better than to call if you weren't in India. Thanks so much.

Hope You Die a Slow Painful Death And Stop Calling Our House,
The Jane & John Doe Family

Saw it coming

I knew when they moved Shadow that they weren't going to let us foster anymore. They didn't give us any kids for one year after we got BabyBoy so I thought that would be the route CPS would take in limiting our fostering. Or they had mentioned to the foster parent association president that our family was too large and I wouldn't be able to handle any thing else, so I thought maybe they would use that route. Then in court I asked if we'd be allowed to continue fostering and she said "You'll have to be reassessed. You don't really have enough room in your home." Huh? We have a completely empty bedroom reserved for teenagers. We also have an empty bed in The Daughter's room.

I took that opportunity to tell CPS once again that we don't currently have, nor have we ever had a baby bed in our bedroom. We have a tanning bed in there, but we aren't baking babies in it. In fact, it serves as a clothes rack and nothing more. She was curious how I knew what was written in our homestudy. Because foster/adoptive parents aren't allowed to see it at all. Whatever. Other people have requested theirs from the state. Get over yourself.

And it is that kind of attitude that makes them not like me.

She then gave me a backhanded compliment. She said if anyone could handle the birth parents crappola, that it was me.

But apparently 3 kids is too many and CPS has deemed that I've met my limit.

Don't think I won't fight it.

Adoption Day Celebrations

How do you celebrate your kids Gotcha Day? I consider the day we actually got each kid, the day they came to live with us, their Gotcha Day but I know most people call the Adoption Finalization Day the Gotcha Day. So how do you celebrate it each year? Do you have a party with cake like a birthday? Do you give a present to the child? Or do you let each child pick their favorite meal for dinner? Go out to eat at the restaurant of their choosing? What about if you adopted a newborn ... do you celebrate the adoption day or not even give it a second thought? I'm looking for ideas because today? Today BabyBoy and BabyGirl are officially, legally, ours.

Scratch that. BabyBoy is ours. BabyGirl's case hit a snafu. Gonna be a few more weeks. And another $300. Celebrating anyway. It's just a small technicality needed at the state level. Hopefully.

Julie & Julia

Love, Love, LOVE this movie!




Julie's dealing with the blog side of things, wanting comments, feeling pressured to post daily, maybe neglecting certain things or people in order to blog, and Julia's dealing with moving and cooking and just being Julia Child. I've never laughed so hard in my life as when Julia says "hot as a stiff cock". Watching the movie, Julie & Julia will certainly leave you hungry for more.