undermine me, will you? And a November to remember

Before I explain the babysitting difficulties, here's another bump in the road that cropped up right when the basketball drama did. 

The fostering situation has not been completely easy-breezie. We weren't silly enough to think that it would be. Rae gave us a hard time early on. There was a day when Coach and I sat down with her to discuss a situation that had upset us. It involved her hanging with a friend we'd never met, and the two of them doing a sort of disappearing act. Afterwards she didn't appreciate being corrected. I got the standard foster kid lip:  YOU'RE NOT MY MOM. I DON'T LIKE IT WHEN YOU GET ALL PARENTAL ON ME. 

Reminder:  Rae's 12 years old.

When we sat her down, I was overcome with emotion. I told her how I'd been so pleased that she'd made friends and I'd spent my day off making a nice lunch and cleaning the house for both girls and the friends they'd invited over. 

And then #^&*$@*(!@  I felt like I got crapped on and I was worried when she and her friend didn't return from the park for 4.5 hours. (they'd walked to a gas station . . . A GAS STATION!) People, how did I not share this with you in the moment, because I'm very much an open book (as if you hadn't noticed) and this day was almost the death of me.

Anyway, somewhere in that Your Behavior Upset Me interaction, Rae apologized. She and I connected in a way that we hadn't before. She allowed me to hug her. Rare, hugging is not really a thing with her. Since then, we've had challenging moments, but they've been more like MOMENTS vs DISTRUBANCES.

She really appreciates my sense of humor. We've made strides. Easy? No. It's so much more possible to feel flexible and patient with a kid who you've connected with - a kid who recognizes that you care about her happiness and that you are doing things for her. 

I always assumed Kay, the 11 year old sis, would be easier. Nope. A month ago, I met with our family therapist, Cami, on my own. I described how it felt like Kay's main way to interact with me was to engage in an arguement. If I asked her to read - FIGHT. I pointed out how the school social worker, Bella, called me and left me feeling Weird. Upset. Agitated. She was trying to sell me on the merits of graphic novels. She told me she didn't think I understood the girls' trauma. 

What now? 

Cami pointed out that the school SW, Bella, had crossed a line. She was allowing Kay to form an attachment to her, which was interfering with her being able to attach to us. Bella should've been focused on school-related issues, but instead she was urging Kay to vent about us  while she cheered her on, pitied her plight with us, and made us out to be bad guys. 

On that Friday, I emailed the school at 4 am (this is when I wasn't sleeping during my prep for SIBO testing). The girls were not to see Bella until after our upcoming zoom, when we could determine Bella's role. 

The zoom was set for a Wednesday. A day or two before, Kay told me that she was going to meet with Bella. Huh?

Me:  HMM. YOU THINK? WHY DO YOU SAY THAT. YOU NEVER MENTION WHEN YOU ARE MEETING WITH HER. 

*I was unaware that Bella had told Kay that I'd put a stop to their meetings, oh - most of which happened during academic classes. This kid needs to be in class, but yet - Bella took her out of class WHENEVER Kay wanted her to. 

Kay opened her email and there were so many emails between the two of them. I sent her to take her shower and I started reading. 

Kay:  I CAN STILL MEET WITH YOU, WE JUST DON'T HAVE TO TELL ERNIE AND COACH. *this was long before I'd pulled the plug on it. What was even happening? 

I discovered that Bella had emailed both girls excerpts of my email to the principal. Unprofessional. I thought I might lose my mind. 

I was fired up.

There were a bunch of people on the zoom discussing Kay's academic issues. Basically as a result of neglect, Kay's academics weren't focused on. No one was paying attention to her reading. At our house, she wanted to only read graphic novels, but we found that she only looked at the pictures and wasn't really reading. Bella had been providing her graphic novels, knowing our rule was "2 regular novels, then a graphic, repeat, etc." 

Principal Awful:  EVERYONE IN THE BUILDING CAN SEE BELLA. IT'S A SAFETY CONCERN.

DCFS backed me up a bit, saying I could limit the groups Kay was included in. 

At the end of the zoom, the principal, who is a horrible human being - which is something I know from past experience, asked if we needed to discuss the minutes with Bella further. The DCFS social worker really tip toed around it, which surprised me because she'd been Hell bent about it when we chatted. I gladly took the reins. 

I.did.not.mince.words. I shared that Bella had undermined our parenting, that she'd crossed a line in sharing emails, and that she was jeopardizing the girls' placement in our home.

When I was done, Bella asked Principal Awful if she should speak to any of that. Awful just shook her head, lips pursed. As in, you best SHUT THAT PIE HOLE. 

A week or two later, the shit hit the fan. I overheard Kay on her zoom to her therapist. (she was being loud) Bella told Kay after our zoom, that I'd called her names. (nope. didn't happen), and that I'd made Bella cry. (or maybe Bella cried because she was in trouble. I think she's 23 years old) and that Ernie (spit my name like it was poison) wouldn't let her miss academic classes. Everything was my fault. 

What the actual Hell? I called an emergency meeting with the DCFS worker. She sat down with Coach, myself, and the two girls. She spelled shit out. She said she didn't want to hear about Bella again. Bella needed to stay in her lane. 

Me:  Kay, it wasn't me who decided you couldn't see Bella, it was Cami. Also, there is a team, a literal TEAM of people working on getting you to be part of this family. Bella is hurting that, while everyone else on the team is working SO hard to make it happen. 

We reviewed the topic in our family therapy session with Cami Saturday. Kay wrote Coach and I a note and taped it to our door Sunday night - like a few days ago, Sunday. It hit me right in the feels. 

That was long. Sorry. I've been dying to share, because this one chick almost undid everything we are trying to accomplish. Coach and I see the superintendent at the junior high tomorrow afternoon to point out how horrible this social worker has behaved. 

Nothing like fighting 2 schools at the same time. 

*****

In some time zones, this might be past 11/30th, but heck - it's November 30th here. I want to say thanks to all of you who took the time to visit and comment here. I've really enjoyed meeting new blog friends, and I love how my world expands and my circle of friends grows as I get to know all of you from your comments and reading your blogs. I'm so grateful to San for organizing and to Suzanne for explaining what NaBloPoMo was on her blog. I was unfamiliar and jumped on board in the 11th hour. If I ever do it again, I'm assuming I'll have almost nothing to write about. This November, a November to remember, was A LOT. I'll soon be back to my normal Mon/Thurs posts. Hope to see you there. I hope to be off of 'private' soon. 

Babysitting: full house, careful what you wish for

My daycare numbers were a little low for this school year. I knew I'd never be able to match the CROWD I had last year, but it was tough not to be earning the same income. I'm of the mindset - as long as I'm doing this, I may as well fill all available spots. 

Coach reminded me that the school year was going to be hectic with the two newbies living with us, so he told me to chill. I agreed, but I also pay the bills. 

One of our favorite things,
 playing at the park.

As the two girls settled into life with us, and one family opted out of care on  Wednesdays after realizing the work-from-home dad could grab them after preschool, I started searching for new families. (insert ominous music)

I met two families on the FB babysitting group. A grandma, who watches her grandson, wanted someone to sit for him twice a week. She used to babysit for teachers and hired me on the spot. She was flexible on what days she needed, so I offered her Mon/Wed -  my two lightest. 

I really liked the next family that I met with. They had a new baby and a 2 year old. They'd expressed an interest in just a few days a week, but during our meeting they were leaning towards 4 days. My Tuesday was already full. 

The next day the mom texted:  they'd be good with just 2 days. Next year she'd want 4 days. I knew they were currently using a commercial daycare. I asked her to call me, because it was too hard to inquire over text. 

Becky and I met at the
 park a few weeks
 ago, combined we
 probably had about
 12 kids. Enough to
 have lots of fun
 with my parachute, thank
 you FB marketplace. 

She wanted to use me 2x a week this school year, pairing me with a commercial center, because of her husband's travel schedule and her long commute. Next year she'd hope to work nearby and she'd need 4x a week. 

Hard NO. I was very pleasant and I appreciate that they liked me setup and my vibe, etc. But, I will not watch kids who attend a big commercial setting on the days opposite me. I will not welcome all.of.the.germs. I need to think of my other families. The woman was very understanding and if she can find a local teaching job, she'll touch base about a spot for the fall. 

I was bummed. I'd thought this was the answer. The next morning, a woman messaged me on FB. I msg'd back saying I DON'T DO FRIDAYS. She only needed Mon, Wed, Thurs. What the what? Those were the only days I could do. The stars were aligning. Hooray. 

She described her new teaching job, her three kids, and her LOVE for her former sitter (when former stopped sitting, this mom quit teaching and stayed home after the birth of her 18 month old). She couldn't imagine leaving her kids with anyone else, but she also wanted to get back in the work force. Staying home was harder than she thought it would be. The 18 month old needed care and on Thursdays the 4 yr old would tag along, because she had no preschool. 

We really hit it off over the phone. She came and met me, brining the little guy along. We clicked, she hired me. The end.

That neat and tidy wrap up was what I assumed I was dealing with. 

Silly, silly me. More to come. 

family. group chats. mind blowing.

The girls had no school
ALL WEEK. There were zoom
conferences on Monday and Tuesday. It's
been a LONG week. They aren't great at
entertaining themselves yet.
Coach and I took the girls
 bowling with Mini the minute she got
home from college Monday afternoon. 

Before I start filling you in on the bumps, the triumphs, and the frustrations over the last six months with the two newbies, I'd like to catch you up on ANOTHER issue. 

Yes, I'm a train wreck of late. As if you haven't noticed. There will be light-hearted posts . . . someday. I hope. 

A few weeks ago, I took a run on a Friday morning- my day off. I run past my parents' house. My mom was getting her paper. I stopped to chat with her. She isn't usually up so early anymore. *Alzheimer's. 

I told Mom I was gonna go visit Uncle M, my dad's brother who we moved up here from Texas in May. He's enjoying getting to know all of my dad's 22 grandkids, most of whom are local. Anyway, I didn't want to go visit at the same time as Dad. Spread the love and all that. 

Mom explained that Dad won't be seeing M, (this part is a little fuzzy and there are a lot of charades happening as Mom struggles to find the words. I'm guessing - she's nodding along) because in the middle of the night he had to drive himself to get a catheter put in at the urgent care. *Dad had been hospitalized for a UTI a few weeks prior. 

Me:  DOES ANYONE ELSE KNOW? 

Mom:  NO, WELL I THINK MAIRE KNOWS, BUT I'M NOT SURE HOW.

I messaged my siblings while jogging home. *I'm one of 5. Marie lives in Milwaukee but comes to my folks' house a lot to stay for days on end and work from their home. Marie thinks she's an only child and the rest of us are just well-intentioned neighbors. Ann, my oldest sister, is the most controlling person alive. She's a nurse. My brothers are one and two years younger than me. They can do no wrong. 

Marie texts:  THAT HAPPENED A FEW DAYS AGO. DAD DROVE HIMSELF TO THE ER BECAUSE HE COULDN'T PEE AS A RESULT OF A PROCEDURE HE HAD DONE LAST WEEK TO MAKE HIS URETHRA BIGGER TO AVOID UTIs.

Turns out only my brother Mike and I didn't know. I usually shake it off, but this time - I couldn't.

My text:  I FEEL LIKE SO MUCH IS COMMUNICATED HERE (like what the folks ate for lunch - I didn't text that, but it's implied) WHY WASN'T THIS? NOT HAVING ALL THE INFO HAS BEEN PRETTY UPSETTING THIS MORNING.

Marie:  SORRY, I'VE BEEN REALLY BUSY AT WORK.

Me:  OH, I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT MEANS TO BE BUSY. (I should've said:  it takes 30 seconds to send a text and what I wanted to text was if you're so damn busy at work then stop coming and living here so much of the week. Four siblings live in a 10 miles radius, and I can walk there).

Mike:  RELAX ERNIE, SHE SAID SORRY. I DIDN'T KNOW EITHER.

Me:  I'M PERFECTLY RELAXED. I'M JUST BEING HONEST. 

It was maddening to be left out of the communication. Pat's 2 cents was WOW, MOM'S STARTING TO STRUGGLE MORE. 

A week or so before turkey day, I asked my folks their plans. Ann was hosting them, Uncle Mike, and Marie/Marie's family. Pat was going to his lake house and Mike was staying home. Maybe my brothers had gotten invited by Ann, not sure. I didn't get invited. We'd made plans with Coach's side, but no one on my side knew that and still - crickets. Hmm. 

On Thanksgiving:  Pat texted me separate from the family group chat Happy Thanksgiving. I texted him back and then I texted Mike. The siblings always text in the group chat for holidays, and it dawned on me that my sisters most likely texted my brothers separately to wish them Happy Thanksgiving to avoid texting me, thus my brother's random text. 

Before I went to bed that night, I group chat texted:  I HOPE EVERYONE HAD A GREAT THANKSGIVING. Mike responded that he was bummed to have work the next day. My sisters? Radio silence.  

In August Mini went to the Art Institute of Chicago per Uncle M's request. My dad went and Ann took all of them. When Ann dropped Mini off at home afterward, she snarled at Mini:  SO WHAT'S THE STORY? HOW LONG ARE YOU GOING TO HAVE THOSE GIRLS LIVING WITH YOU? I MEAN I THOUGHT YOU ALREADY TRIED THIS. 

Uncle had been dropped off already, but Mini was STUNNED (I mean, not completely because Ann has a tone. She's entitled to information. Worth noting: she could've easily asked me as I'd just seen her a few weeks prior, but she didn't.) Dad was still in the car and he grumbled at her:  ANN! THESE GIRLS ARE DIFFERENT THAN THE LAST TIME. ERNIE'S TRYING. THAT'S WHAT SHE'S DOING. 

Neither sister has reached out, checked in, offered support or encouragement and (unlike most of you) they've known about the girls since days after they arrived. 

We take the girls to a family therapist to work on issues as they arise. I really like her. Coach wants me to make an appointment to go see her solo to talk about 1. b-ball  nightmare, and 2. my sisters. 

I plan to.

short but sweet: a post, a haircut, and THE info

I failed to mention that I'm so grateful that Lad decided to reconnect with us after the rocky summer we had when we let him know that the time had come for him to move out. He's been stopping by regularly, showing up for Sunday dinners, and supporting Reg (and all of us) in the basketball dilemma. 

Also, I meant to talk about how grateful I am for my NEW haircut. This was a long overdo appointment. When I got a text that Christina had a cancellation, I was thrilled that it worked with my schedule. Before she started cutting my hair last Friday, I poured out the updates as I hadn't seen her since May or June. I normally get my haircut every few months. I was not only shaggy, I was brimming with family news. Um, Mini's roomie almost died from a flesh eating bacteria, and then on and on. 

I like long hair. I want long hair to work for me. My hair is incredibly thin, thanks celiac. No amount of Nutrafol or anything will prompt it to fill in. The lighting in the dressing rooms at my fav department store are so unforgiving I cringe at my baldness. With long hair, I like that I can pull my stringy strands up into a clip when it's long. *Long for me is like an inch or two past my chin, so not exactly Rampunzel-esque. Christina does a great job of layering and tweaking my hair so that it doesn't look as awful as it otherwise would, which is why I pay her the big bucks. 

Christina's kids will one day attend the high school where my kids go and where she went. She was disgusted by the basketball story. While I was filling her in on everything, she cut my hair into the cutest, fluffiest, light-weight, curly hairdo. I've not worn my hair like this in for-EVAH. She introduced me to a new product:  IT'S A 10, VOLUMIZING SPRAY. It works wonders for me. While I miss my quick-up, hair-clip day, hooray for an unexpected new look. 

I was gonna write this info into a post, but I ran out of time and I'd written about my haircut . . . so I decided to show our family pic to demonstrate my hair - which I think is not easy to see in a picture of this size, but whatever.
In the front row next to Coach and I:  the girls.
As of tomorrow, they've lived with us for 6 months.

it's like buying a house and also NOTHING like buying a house & Tank's hilarious thought

End of April:  We met the two girls first, because their worker, Morgan, was available first. We drove about 45 minutes west to meet them at a Starbucks with Morgan. The Starbucks was doing employee training and they weren't gonna let us in. That was an interesting start. We got in, found them, but had to shuffle outside to complete our chat as the Starbucks was kicking everyone out. 

They seemed like nice kids. The younger one, Kay, wished us luck with all of our paperwork, then asked if they should call us mom and dad. Huh? The older one, Rae, didn't say much. It was hard to imagine being in their shoes. I mean my shoes were plenty panicked, but to be kids and to be separated from two older brothers, a mom, and to now not be wanted by grandparents - holy crap, that's a lot. 

About a week later, we drove into the city of Chicago to meet with the two little guys. I nicknamed them M & M, because their names both start with 'M'. No lie, these two might be the cutest African American siblings EVER. They were wiggly and giggly and made to fidget. We could barely get a look at them, because they were under the kitchen table the second we sat down. 

Their worker, Sarah, kept apologizing, saying they weren't used to meeting people. While she was talking, I was making my hands into puppets under the table. More giggling. 

I have no photo to go with this post. My
 not-quite-functioning phone takes
 random photos. This is Curly leaving over
 me and my phone snapping a pic. This
 is what I felt like -  as crazy as
 Curly's inverted hair. 

Their foster mom walked in a few minutes later. She sat down at the table and whispered in a barely audible tone:  what'cha doing under that table? 

Bam. They shot up into the seats across from us like little rockets. When I asked them a question, their silliness erupted again, until Foster Mom breathed:  You'll answer her questions. 

They nodded and told me their teachers' names and I offered them the coloring books we'd brought. 

On the way home, Coach was speechless. I gave him some time to process before I asked, SO, WHAT'RE YA THINKING?

Coach:  YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS? DID YOU SEE THEM? THEY'RE CRAZY. THEY WERE ALL WIGGLY AND EVERYTHING. WE'RE TOO OLD FOR THAT. 

Me:  COME ON. SERIOUSLY? I DO THAT ALL DAY. THEY WERE JUST EXCITED. THAT'S ALL. HOLY SHIT, DID YOU SEE THEIR FOSTER MOM. WHETHER OR NOT WE TAKE THEM, I WANT TO COME HANG OUT WITH HER AND LEARN HER MAGIC TRICKS. SHE'S GOOD. 

The next day Sarah called and I told her we'd met another sibling pair and we needed to decide. It was weird. I felt like we were cheating on them. She was understanding.

Coach and I spent the next week mulling things over. I convinced him we needed to meet M & M again to get to see them when they weren't so silly. We met them at a McDonald's playland. Girl M screamed so much in the play structure that she made other children cry. Yikes. We colored and played stickers with them in a booth while they ate. We chatted with Sarah about what they liked to do and their bedtime routine. We tracked them in the playground equipment and pretended to chase them, etc. We drove home and Coach said, MAYBE THEY COULD BE THE ONES. 

Sarah informed us they'd never had a family. They still had visits with their mom, but they weren't really connected to her. They didn't understand what it meant to be part of a family. I felt like they were in a good position to be adopted because they were so young, but Sarah was frustrated. She wished the mom had signed away her rights when they were babies, when she first admitted that she couldn't take care of them. 

To be fair, I wanted to meet with the girls again, too. Coach was out of town teaching a class, but I asked Curly if she'd come mini-golfing with me and these two girls that we were considering. 

* BTW, when we told Reg and Curly that we were meeting potential kids to adopt, Curly said  SERIOUSLY? I THOUGHT WE WERE DONE WITH THIS. 

Oh, brother. 

We followed the mini-golf with pizza. Curly agreed, the girls were probably fine. Although, what the hell? Why did they drag the golf balls across the putting greens with their club? How did they not know how to play mini-golf? 

Because they'd never been mini golfing. 

Coach and I had to decide. It was near impossible. I kept saying this was like buying a house, but it was also  NOTHING like buying a house. - it was like if we made an offer on one house and then heard about a different house going on the market the next day. One might have better square footage, one might have better appliances. 

Obviously this was so much more important, but it was just hard to know.  

We made lists and weighted each point. We talked till we couldn't talk anymore. It seemed Coach wanted the girls and I wanted the M & M's. I wanted a clean slate. There would be less to undo. Coach thought we were too old. I'm not gonna lie, this was like a unique and twisted type of torture. I ignored calls from the two different workers, hoping to buy more time. I worried about what Curly would want, considering she'd be living here with them the longest. 

I called the three college kids to give them a heads up. Ed thought we were plain crazy. Mini was on board, 100%. 

Tank:  OH, SO TWO SETS OF KIDS? SO, WE'RE ADOPTING ALL FOUR THEN? 

Sweet Jesus, NO. Licensed for 2. 

I called Mini and wept. I hadn't slept. I was wigging out. She talked me off the ledge. 

Mini:  WELL, WE AREN'T ADOPTING ANYONE BECAUSE THEY'RE CUTE. (good point). 

I told her I was worried about Curly and she said she'd handle that. She'd call her up and pick her brain. 

I kept telling Coach, THIS HAS TO BE IT. IF WE TAKE KIDS AND THEN WE SEND THEM AWAY AGAIN, IT'LL KILL ME. I CAN'T GO THROUGH THAT AGAIN. BESIDES, EVERYONE WILL THINK WE'RE ASS HOLES.

Coach:  IF ANYONE THINKS THAT, LET THEM TRY THIS. TRYING IS ALL WE CAN DO. LESS THAN 40% OF THE TIME THESE SITUATIONS END IN ADOPTION. WE'RE FOSTERING. THAT'S IT. WE'RE JUST GOING TO TAKE IT A DAY AT A TIME. THEN WE CAN SEE WHAT HAPPENS. 

Unlike the time with the two brothers (the autistic one and the six year old) when we used rock, paper, scissors to decide what to do, I made Coach call me over his lunch break and we tallied up our list and made our decision. Hardest day ever. 

What do you think we decided to do?

everything all at once - seriously: the TIMING, and more bad advice

I occasionally looked at websites posting info about kids who needed a forever home. We'd only consider kids in Illinois. In addition to the boys' issues being greatly underestimated, we'd gotten screwed because Indiana refused to pay for stuff since we were out of state. We were stuck with lots of bills. We had to pay our worker in Illinois to do maintenance visits. Eek, I don't want to think about the financial pitfall. Moving on. 

Curly climbing with
Larry and Harry at
 our local park. Hard
 to believe that was
 2 years ago, but also - it
seems like decades ago.

We'd been focused all along on adoption. You have to decide in advance if you wanna adopt or foster. There are different workers, different paths, etc. We steered clear of fostering, not wanting to become attached. We worried about our kids becoming attached, making it difficult to send foster kids back. That's the goal for so many kids and so many times that makes sense. Sometimes a foster situation turns into an adoptive placement, because rights might get terminated and the foster parents get first dibs on adopting. Still, that's a roll of the dice. 

I would occasionally fill out an online form when I read about a sibling pair that sounded like they might work for us. Keep in mind, the info I saw online was fluff. THEY LIKE SPORTS AND PIZZA AND THEY MAKE FRIENDS EASILY. 

Rarely did anyone respond. The workers can see our profile, so they might see that we said NO to sexual abuse (we felt ill-equipped for that and sadly SO many kids have that in their background), or they might decide we had too many other kids, or our location wasn't close enough to a community the kids were rooted in. Whatever. 

I got a call once about a girl who sounded EXACTLY like the boys. I took a pass. 

In the spring of '23, I started getting calls from workers about fostering.

Me:  Is the kids' goal reunification?

Worker:  No. 

She had no idea if parental rights might be terminated even though the kids had been in the system for years. I asked how many placements they'd had. She couldn't count them all. It was sad. Their current placement was ending and she had too many fires to put out on other cases, so she was just shuffling them along. Coach and I started talking about possibly fostering, since there seemed to be a need. 

Days later, I got an email from a worker who wanted to set up a phone call with us. I told Coach that our worker and I would handle the call. I assumed the kids would have too many issues, and I didn't want him to leave work early for nothing. 

The call was on a Thursday afternoon. It went really well. The kids' worker and I connected right away. The kids didn't have any issues. They'd been in foster care most of their lives and mostly it had been one consistent, amazing placement. The foster mom was retiring and the kids' mom was finally willing to sign away her rights. We could spend the summer visiting them, which was ideal for me because I don't babysit. The judge wanted a family identified, so he could move them into a pre-adoptive home in August. 

I texted Coach:  I THINK THIS IS IT. THEY'RE YOUNG. BUT HEY - CLEAN SLATE. 

The catch:  they were 5 and 6 years old. They were also boy/girl which would be tough with our bedrooms because they weren't allowed to share a room, which come on - I think they could share a room for a few years. 

Coach:  WOW- THAT'S REALLY YOUNG. DOES THE WORKER KNOW WE'RE OLD?

We agreed to meet the kids, leaving behind our false teeth, hearing aids, Depends, and walkers.  

Friday morning, our worker was coming to the house to review paperwork, etc. since we hadn't met in awhile. I missed a call while I was running. I called back, it was a DCFS worker. I left her a message. She called me back just as I was getting in the shower. 

Abby:  HI. THERE ARE TWO SISTER WHO NEED A HOME . . .

Me: OH, THANKS. WE WERE JUST MATCHED WITH A SIBLING PAIR YESTERDAY. AND WE'RE PRE-ADOPTIVE. WE DON'T FOSTER . . . 

Abby:  OH, THESE GIRLS NEED A PRE-ADOPTIVE HOME. THEY'RE GOOD KIDS, BEST FRIENDS, THEY DON'T HAVE ANY ISSUES. 

Me:  (I was hanging the phone up, but I stopped) OK, TELL ME A BIT ABOUT THEM, BUT LIKE I SAID - WE'VE BEEN MATCHED. JUST YESTERDAY.

I already felt loyal to the two little guys who I hadn't met yet. 

Abby:  THEY'RE 10 AND 12. THEY MOVED IN WITH THEIR GRANDPARENTS IN OCTOBER AFTER THEIR MOM WENT TO JAIL FOR DRUGS IN ANOTHER STATE. THE GRANDPARENTS AREN'T VERY GOOD TO THEM AND THEY NEED A PERMANANT HOME. (I asked about medications and diagnosis) NONE. 

They'd never been in foster care. 

My worker showed up and I told her:  YOU WON'T BELIEVE THIS. WE GOT ANOTHER CALL ABOUT 2 GIRLS. 

Ann: CAN YOU MEET BOTH SETS OF KIDS?

Me:  WELL, THAT'S MORE OF A QUESTION FOR YOU. WHAT SHOULD WE DO? 

Ann:  I'D MEET THEM BOTH AND THEN DECIDE. 

I feel that that was terrible advice, but alas - that's what we did. 

Thankful for: Halleluiah song, an oops that could've been worse, & meds

I'm pausing my story here till tomorrow. I feel like not everyone has time to read an ongoing saga during NaBloPoMo. Plus, it's Thanksgiving and I figured I'd write something a little light-hearted. 

I'm grateful for . . . 

I recently requested that Alexa play the song Halleluiah from Shrek. Alexa obliged. Then she proceeded to play a bunch of other songs, one after the other . . . WITHOUT commercials. I was confused, but delighted. The songs that followed were ALL great songs from artists that I enjoy, like Rusted Root's Send Me On My Way. I flipping LOVE that song. Ever since, when I ask Alexa to play Halleluiah from Shrek, the same thing happens. It's like a secret playlist. Made for me. With no commercials. Proof that it's the little things. 

Reg participated in a Friends-giving on Sunday. He was gonna bring mashed potatoes, which we all know meant that I was gonna make mashed potatoes. Then the host girl changed his assignment to green beans. I insisted he bring a tasty dish like my Sweet and Sour Green Beans vs a can of green beans. I assisted, but mostly he made it himself. Later he admitted that the teens really didn't eat it. Excuse me? Despite bacon and sugar, it couldn't compete with sides like mac and cheese. Anyway, I ate the leftovers Tuesday, and again last night while the fam ate the spaghetti and meatballs I made per Tank's request. As I was preparing to make a huge pot of S&S green beans for my SIL's house for today, it dawned on me:  I ate the friends-giving casserole, which wasn't prepared GF. Granted it isn't a ton of four, but OOPS. All that to say, I'm grateful it didn't make me sick.

I can never get it all
the way clean either.

After several phone calls and a week of waiting for them to figure it out, my super-strong SIBO-killing antibiotic has arrived. I plan to start Friday, because I want to enjoy an adult beverage, or several, today. 

I WILL be grateful if someone can steer me towards the world's best frying pan. I've spent a lot of money at William-Sonoma on a few frying pans in recent years. The coating on one is pulling away from the pan. Basically, neither is outstanding and they weren't cheap. Any recommendations? 

This is a close up of the edge
 of the frying pan. So frustrating.

I'm truly grateful for you, my blog friends. I love connecting with people from near and far, and learning about things in your world. I so appreciate your support, your friendship, and your presence here. Hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving, and if you aren't from the US - then I hope you are having a relaxing yet productive weekend.  

Larry and Harry, it wasn't all rainbows, just the ONE rainbow

We met L and H in January of '21. During the initial phone call when we learned more about the boys and their needs, I motioned to Coach across the room by running a finger across my throat, as in NO WAY. I'M OUT. THIS IS NOT FOR US.

Instincts. Trust them. 

Our worker convinced us after the call that although the boys had a ton of diagnosis and were taking every medication imaginable, they could outgrow some of it. Plus, with a stable environment, they could thrive. We followed blindly.

On a zoom, we met various workers and their foster mom, who'd had them for a little over a year. 

My first question:  YOU'VE HAD THESE TWO FOR OVER A YEAR. WE ARE WORRIED ABOUT ALL OF THEIR ISSUES. WE HAVE 6 OLDER KIDS AND WE HAVE TO THINK OF THEM TOO. WHAT WOULD YOU SAY?

Debbie:  OH, THESE TWO WON'T GIVE YOU ANY TROUBLE.

That is a direct quote. We took her words like it was bible and we agreed to meet the boys. We drove back and forth to Bloomington, IN where Ed was in college and met the boys, continuing almost every other weekend for months to get to know them. They had some struggles like weird food aversions and they were 2-3 years behind grade level, but they seemed manageable. Later we discovered that when more was demanded of them, like SCHOOL, they fell apart.

This was about the same
time that Finnegan, Lad's dog,
 moved in with us - Lad just
 showed up with him.
We've never owned a dog.
I'm allergic. I can't make
 this stuff up if
 I wanted to. 

They moved in with us mid July '21. They tormented us. Ambulances were called to the house. The older one wouldn't leave the bathroom at school. Debbie admitted he did that back in Indiana, and no one ever mentioned it. 

We tried EVERYTHING. Mini was reduced to tears one night at dinner. I was putting Harry in a takedown hold and hollering CALL DAD! TELL HIM TO GET HOME NOW. I NEED HIM. 

Mini:  I JUST CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE. 

We couldn't do it anymore either. Part of the issue was their ADHD meds. The ones they were on weren't really addressing ADHD. Turns out Harry didn't have ADHD, but it can present like trauma and Indiana misdiagnosed him. Harry flipped his lid, quite literally, once he was given true ADHD meds. 

We'd kept in touch with Debbie. When we waved the white flag to send them back, she said:  OH, I'M NOT AT ALL SURPRISED. THEY'RE THE REASON I QUIT FOSTERING AFTER 23 YEARS. THEY WERE SO BAD. 

I still remember where I was in the grocery store during this call. 

Me:  (I'd kind of gathered that she'd lied to us, but in that moment I got up the nerve to call her out on it) WAIT, WHY DID YOU TELL US THAT THEY WOULDN'T GIVE US ANY TROUBLE? 

Debbie: OH, BECAUSE DEPT OF CHILDREN WAS ON THE CALL AND I DIDN'T WANT TO GET MY HAND SLAPPED.

Me: REALLY? YOU DID A DISSERVICE TO US AND TO THE BOYS. THIS IS ANOTHER FAILURE FOR THEM AND IT'S BEEN IMPOSSIBLE FOR OUR FAMILY. 

I was dumbfounded. Indiana was mad at us for quitting. We tried to tell them that the boys needed to be separated. They were too much for one family. That ticked Indiana off. Then the boys claimed I hurt them. I was investigated. They interviewed all the families I sit for. Of course the claim wasn't substantiated, but EVERYTHING sucked. 

The boys LOVED our kids. Our kids, especially Reg and Curly, were incredible with them. We took them on a beach vacation and our hearts swelled watching our 6 kids ride the waves with the 2 boys.

We felt like shit when we bailed. The boys' level of care was truly severe and we'd always said we could only handle mild to moderate type issues. The night before they left, Debbie connected us to someone she knew who'd once worked their case. The new details she shared were eye-opening. The boys had survived unthinkable living conditions, raising themselves with a pack of kids in a legit drug den. 

It breaks my heart that they don't have a copy of the photos and videos we took of them, because Indiana stopped communicating with us. Shame on Indiana. If it doesn't work, it doesn't work. We TRIED. When the boys moved in, Indiana suggested we just go ahead and adopt them right away, bypass the wait-six-months timeframe that's in place to assure a good fit.

Us:  HMM, NO. WE'LL STICK WITH THE 6 MOS PROTOCOL. THANKS.

Mid October '21, when I drove them back to Indiana a rainbow appeared over the gas station where I was meeting an emergency foster worker. I told the boys the rainbow was for them. It was a sign of hope. I told them that we'd always love them and we'd keep praying for them.

Last Christmas, Debbie let us know that she'd heard that Indiana DID separate the boys and that they'd been adopted into two different homes about a year after they left us. (before being separated, they'd been in like 5 homes the 2 months after they left us). They attend the same school and see one another often. We were so happy for them. SO HAPPY. We were bummed that the system had screwed with us and as a result other kids in need of a home were missing out on a potential family. 

Fun fact:  a few months after the boys left, our license was up for renewal. We were undecided, leaning towards NO WAY, but we decided to renew it  in Jan '22, because it was only $500 and we could wait and see vs having to repeat all the courses and stuff if we changed our minds later. 

Next up:  2 calls in 12 hours in April of '23. What? 

a needy kid is a needy kid

Click here if you missed the start of this story. I won't bore you with details of getting licensed to foster/adopt and finding an agency to work with and switching to a different worker after we met another family (Bakers) at our kids' school who loved their worker. We kept it all a secret, well - our kids and a few close friends knew.

This whole licensing process took YEARS. It wasn't like asking people for a recommendation for a good house painter. We couldn't grill people about how to go about this, what agency to use, etc. 

Oh, and we decided NOT to adopt internationally. That was hard for me initially, because the movie had sparked that vision. Some countries wouldn't allow us to adopt because of the size of our family and most of them had rules about us going there for weeks at a time, which seemed sensible of course, but impossible with our other kids and Coach's job. 

God places people in front of you at times. We wouldn't be where we are today without the Bakers, whose kids attend high school with our kids. We also met  Curly's new BFF at Irish dancing. That girl's family had adopted 2 girls from Ethiopia. The mom shared their story and I learned that they'd originally planned to adopt from Haiti, but they lost all the money they'd invested in the process when Haiti had a hurricane or something. Plus, the international process sounded like it took forever. We weren't getting any younger. 

Coach wisely said:  A NEEDY KID IS A NEEDY KID. LET'S ADOPT LOCALLY. 

Once I got word that our license was approved, I remember walking around the house organizing and cleaning, expecting the phone to ring ANY MINUTE. There are so many needy kids out there, we'll probably get a call very soon. I braced myself and that makes me laugh now. 

A blurry Curly and Reg playing
soccer with Harry and Larry. 

We met sibling pairs 3 times before we moved forward with the 4th pair:  two brothers (aka Harry and Larry) from Indiana in '21. I've written posts about a different set of brothers that we considered from Illinois. Their social worker mishandled that situation and it crushed me. She allowed them to be split up because their foster family only wanted the 4 year old and not the 10 year old autistic brother. That was the whole reason we'd been asked to take them, because the foster family said NO to both. But then the worker back pedaled. I think that foster mom begged and pleaded with her. We'd said we would take both of them, SO WHY SEPARATE THEM? 

There were other heartbreaks and mind blowing frustrations, but we had to trust that everything happens for a reason.

We had kids come for day visits and overnights. Each time we tried to imagine IS THIS IT? WILL THESE KIDS FIT WITH OUR FAMILY? It's a strange process - to put it mildly, because you don't know initially. I'm an ALL-IN type, or maybe you can call me a planner, so each time my brain started mapping out how things would play out.

Coming up:  a brief overview of the Harry and Larry saga. 

*****

Also, the school never responded to the lawyer's letter informing them that they put Reg on the team or we'd file a lawsuit in federal court. We are moving forward with the lawsuit. I feel ill. How can this be happening? It's so twisted and wrong. We've loved our school and been loyal and supportive of it for over 10 years. 

My SIL suggested that Reg think of it like he was injured and that's why he is missing his season. I was like WTF? I know she means well, but that's like telling someone whose loved one was just murdered to pretend they'd died of cancer instead. 

background to upcoming news, the YOU CAN DO MORE edition

First an update on Ego, the coach from last year. When we met friends for drinks last week, they told us a story about their son, who is a freshman on football. Ego (yep, still allowed to coach) told the freshmen:  NOT TO SOUND RACIST OR ANYTHING, BUT WE SHOULD BE ABLE TO BEAT THIS TEAM BECAUSE THEY'RE JUST A BUNCH OF MEXICANS. 

Ridiculous.

**********

(this post jumped the queue last week, so a few of you have already seen it . . . )

If you're new here since fall of '21, then you won't understand our news without this backstory. The rest of you, go take a nap - you know this part. 

Background:  Like all huge life decisions, this one started with a movie. 

In August of '16, I randomly grabbed a movie called The Good Lie from the library. I was always looking for good movies appropriate for the whole family. The movie is about the Lost Boys in the Sudan. Reese Witherspoon is in it. That night I couldn't sleep. I nudged Coach. 

Me:  I KEEP THINKING ABOUT THOSE KIDS IN THE SUDAN.

Coach:  ME TOO. 

Me:  I THINK WE SHOULD ADOPT SOME OF THEM. WE CAN MAKE ROOM.

Coach:  YEAH, ME TOO.

Me:  OH, GOOD. 

I slept like a baby and I dreamt of two little boys holding my hands. 

The next morning, the kids went to school and it was Coach's late day. I leaned across the table where he was eating and I asked him in a loud whisper:  SO? WHAT SHOULD WE DO?

Coach:  ABOUT WHAT?

Me:  ADOPTING KIDS FROM THE SUDAN.

Coach:  OH, WHAT? YOU WERE SERIOUS? NO WAY. WE HAVE OUR HANDS FULL. 

Coach agreed to think about it and to pray for discernment. Then in November of '17, the Saturday after Thanksgiving, we went to 5:30 mass. The girls were dancing the next day in the Midwest Regional Irish Dancing Championships and I admit that I wasn't 100% focused on the homily. 

The Monday after the girls danced, I wasn't working. I went to Coach's work and gave him a rundown of how the competition ended. It had taken place about 45 minutes from home. A gift - because we had to travel a ton for dancing. Go ahead, ask me how happy I am that this chapter of our lives is CLOSED. Coach had seen them dance, but hadn't been there for the awards, because he gets up at like 4:30 am for work on Mondays.

Me: BOTH GIRLS WERE SO HAPPY WITH THEIR RESULTS. IT WAS AMAZING. (this never happens)

Coach (pulls me into an exam room):  I'M READY. 

Me:  FOR WHAT? (thinking, why are we whispering?)

Coach:  TO ADOPT. IT WAS BECAUSE OF FR. BERNIE'S HOMILIY. REMEMBER WHAT HE SAID?

Me:  (mouth hanging open) YOU MIGHT NEED TO REMIND ME (during mass I'd been taking mental inventory of wigs, and poodle socks, snacks, sock glue, and tape for shoes - see:  happy this Irish dancing chapter has closed).

Coach:  HE SAID 'YOU CAN DO MORE'. WE CAN DO THIS. LET'S DO THIS.

I drove home, staring widely, not sure I was seeing the road in front of me. Thinking:  WAIT NOW. I'VE BEEN ASKING HIM TO GET READY, BUT AM I READY? ARE WE REALLY DOING THIS? 

Much more to follow. 

******

*guidelines for comments in this series:  I'm conflicted, but I'm leaning towards asking you to refrain from showering me with high praise. There've been so many ups and downs, I don't feel worthy. (behind closed doors I pound my head on the wall and I'm still asking myself WHAT ARE WE DOING? Depending on the day).

In other words, if you say THIS IS AWESOME and then our adoption journey ends in us not adopting, I'll feel like a failure, like I've disappointed you. How do I know this? Been there, done that. I've put off sharing this situation, fearing failure. I wanted the story to be a done deal before I shared, but alas - it's ongoing.

Support and prayers, sprinkled with a bit of praise/shock/have you had your head examined is welcome ~ thanks.

Curly: the clear choice for her blog name & "is it a boy yet?"

Curly - Curly is my miracle baby. Well, they're all miracles, but Curly is a more of a surprise blessing. I've had six miscarriages. One was the pregnancy before Curly. We hadn't been trying for a 6th. When I lost the baby, I was devastated. Coach was like NO MORE, because he hated to see me so distraught. I didn't want to end on that note and Coach agreed to three months of trying. Curly was the 3rd try. I was 38. 

Is it me, or is this maybe
the cutest picture ever?

*I had 4 more miscarriages after Curly. Years later, when I found out I had celiac disease, I discovered that infertility can accompany undiagnosed celiac. That threw me in a bit of a tailspin like, dang doctors, if you could've figured this out in the early 90s when I first met with you, well - I can't help but wonder if things would've been different. 

I was 38 and they monitored my hormone levels. My HGC hormone, which was supposed to double the first few days, quadrupled, and shot thru the roof the next blood draw. The doctor wondered if I was having twins.

I was crazy nauseous. Then all of a sudden, the nausea stopped. I feared I was losing the baby, but the ultrasound showed everything was fine. One baby, not two. He wondered if maybe there'd been a twin that disappeared.

We didn't tell the kids I was pregnant until long after I was showing. Lad found out earlier though. I was puking in the evenings when he was the only kid awake. He sobbed one night, saying he was worried something was wrong with me, so we told him and he kept the secret. We let him share the news with his brothers and sister. He stuffed a pillow under his shirt and hosted a very confusing game of charades with his clueless siblings. 

The baby, whose gender we didn't know, was due  12/25th. I was induced Dec. 19th. I begged the doctor to let me wait until after Christmas. 

Doc:  NO WAY. YOU HAVE BIG BABIES. PLUS YOU'LL END UP IN LABOR ON CHRISTMAS DAY.

Me:  YEAH, BUT THE BIGGER THE BABY- THE MORE LIKELY I AM TO GET MY NAME. (there's a method to my madness, that's how I got to pick Tank's name, remember?) 

Curly:  8 lbs 12 oz, same EXACT as Mini. I got my name, the girl name I'd wanted since Lad. Coach initially thought that name was a color. If you know, you know. 

The kids crowded around the bed and I held her up. 

Lad:  LOOKS LIKE A BOY. (the brothers agreed)

Mini (3.5 years old):  IS IT A SISTER, MOMMY?

I told her it WAS a sister, she melted. She asked for days afterwards, like even after I was home from the hospital, IS IT A BOY YET?

This was BEFORE we met the most
amazing curly hair specialist.
Obviously. I'll have
 to dig up a current photo of a good,
not crazy fluff, hair day.

I assured her that penises don't grow in later. Our girl baby would stay a girl baby. Mini was so relieved.

Curly is a friend to everyone she meets. She has a heart of gold. Her Irish dancing teacher, Mary, was crazy about her, and it wasn't just because she was a dancing super star. She's thoughtful and mature for her age, because her older siblings insist that she not act like a dope. 

Curly used to whisper to me:  I'M NOT GONNA BE A TEENAGER. After witnessing her siblings' attitudes. She's almost 16, and so far, her teen years aren't awful. She doesn't love to read, but she works hard for good grades, she's athletic, admittedly this comes from her dad. She says there's no point in arguing with Mini, because Mini should be a lawyer. It's also because Curly's too nice to argue. Curly and Reg are VERY tight and the b-ball drama is extra hard because last year when they were both on varsity, it was so fun. They did a lot of talking about their games, practices, competitors, and we hosted combined varsity pasta parties, etc. 

I'm trying to wrap this up and I've yet to discuss her hair. She gets asked at school about once a week if she is mixed race. No, she is not, but she might be part poodle. One of my funniest posts ever is a Curly story. No pressure to read. Come back when you have less blogs to keep up with. 

You hung in there for many family member informative sessions. This one was long. Tomorrow  I'll share the intro bit to our big news in a SHORT post. Thanks for your patience. 

broken things, con't: door edition, Ed and the black eye, wine + (allergy) shots = lies

I feel like I had food in my teeth and you didn't tell me, because in yesterday's post I repeated myself in the final paragraph. I'd blame the alcohol consumption, but people pointed out that splitting a bottle is only 2 glasses. So, this just proves what we all already know:  

    1.  I don't get out much, and 

    2. Allergy shots are potent. Remember when I slept in my bed while a tornado ripped through our neighborhood and our yard? Yep- the night following allergy shots. The nurse should warn people:  DON'T DRINK AFTER THESE SHOTS, YOU MIGHT TEND TO REPEAT YOURSELF OR BE UNAWARE OF YOUR SURROUNDINGS AND SLEEP THROUGH A MAJOR LIFE-THREATENING STORM. 

*****

4. Our garage door opener. The remote in GW fell apart months ago. It still works, but God help anyone who drops it, requiring me to rebuild it. Again. 

The piece that covers the little
 mechanism is missing and
 if dropped it falls apart.

5. Our garage door keypad. (are we noticing a pattern here?) The keyless entry thing on the outside of the house is not working consistently. I thought it was the batteries, but it wasn't. It works sometimes, but not always. So if a kid can't get in (the kid car doesn't currently have a garage door opener. I think it did at one time. Just one of those family mysteries), he or she wander up on the deck and hope I'm awake, or that we've left the back sliding door unlocked. This is not a foolproof system, shockingly. 

A few weeks ago, a house on our culdesac was burglarized. I stand by my belief that if someone entered our home with plans to rob us, they'd look around at the chaos, decide that someone beat them to it, shrug, and walk away empty handed.

BUT - still, we should be keeping the back door locked just in case. I need to get a new keyless entry thing. I'd love to get a smart garage door opener, but we aren't in need of a new garage door opener - just the keyless entry system. Anyone know if a keyless entry system can be smart? Or must it be part of the garage door opener?  

*****

Ed went to beer-a-palooza or something equally fun-sounding in October. The party was at the house of someone from work, maybe a partner? At the end of the night, his Boss Lady aka BL, announced that she wanted to do a keg stand. 

Ed and another guy agreed to hold her legs. 

Ed:  MAYBE SHE'D NEVER DONE A KEG STAND BEFORE, BUT IF SOMEONE SAYS THEY WANT TO DO THAT, I ASSUME THEY KNOW WHAT THEY'RE DOING.WELL, SHE DIDN'T REALIZE THAT SHE HAD TO USE HER ARMS TO SUPPORT HERSELF AND AFTER WE GOT HER UPSIDE DOWN, SHE LET GO AND SHE FELL AND HIT HER FACE ON THE KEG. RIGHT ON HER CHEEK, UNDER HER EYE. UM, YEAH. THAT'S GONNA LEAVE A MARK. 

He said she was laughing and all was fine, but he wondered if her eye would be black and blue at the office on Monday. I think there was a mark, but it wasn't too bad. Ed is as straight-laced as they come. When he said he may have contributed to his boss getting a black eye, I was like WHAT? 

****

Tomorrow is intro to Curly, lest she get lost in the shuffle. AND the newsie update IS Monday. Sorry, I promised it for tomorrow but that was yesterday. See above:  wine + (allergy) shots don't mix well. 

If it ain't broke, wait - it IS broke?

*Did someone go out with her husband and another couple last night for a drink? Did the couple buy a bottle of wine because they belong to the place's wine club? Did the husband (Coach and the other wife were drinking non-wine) continue to fill my glass with wine each time he filled his glass till we'd split the bottle even-steven?  Yep. Um, I don't EVER drink that much. I preceeded to review my NaBloPoMo situation, believing my post was ready to post automatically, but alas . . . it was not. 

*********

Things that are broken: the electronic edition

1. My laptop. The hinges on one side of the lid are busted. It' a bummer, because it isn't that old. I bought it right before I was SUPPOSED to fly to Ireland for World

These laptop innards should
 not be visible. Eek. 

Championships of Irish Dancing with Curly and Mini. I was taking a writing class and I needed to be able to submit assignments while in Ireland. Enter the pandemic, competition cancelled. Trip cancelled. *sobbing softly, although I did appreciate the money saved.

I don't remember how I got along before I owned a laptop and I've appreciated having one for the last 3 1/2 years, but I expected it to last. While I do take it with me when I travel or if I bring it if I have to sit at a practice for a few hours, it mostly sits on my island. It's not like I'm lugging it to and from a job daily. 

This is my stuff I brought to my appointment.
I carried my open laptop from the
parking garage through the hospital. 

I have no idea what happened to the hinge. I finally taped it together, but now if I close it I'll have to re-tape it. I looked like I was on official business when I was going to my SIBO test. In the GI lab, the receptionist thought I was there to go 'in the back' - she offered to hit a button from her desk to open the automatic doors. Um, I'm a patient not an employee of the hospital and fortunately for this employee -I'm also not a crazy person trying to sneak into the 'behind the scenes' of the hospital. 

2. The spell check component of my laptop - when I'm emailing or blogging. If I'm on my laptop, I draft an email and then run to my desktop to see if there are any spelling errors. I used to have spell check on my laptop. How does one lose spellcheck? 

*If I've had spelling errors while commenting on your blogs, it is my sincere hope that after reading this, you will forgive me. I prefer to write in my study, but when I have tots bopping around in the family room - I tend to stick in the kitchen so I have them in my line of sight. 

3. My phone. My phone works, but it has started adding random question marks between words. It's fairly annoying. I spend a lot of time editing my texts so the recipient isn't left wondering if I'm doubting every other word I type. Sometimes there are long pauses while I wait for the phone to respond, like it goes into a frozen state. The case is cracking off in chunks and I have packing tape holding it together. I could get a new case, but I feel like that's silly since the phone is not long for this world. 

I got the phone in the summer of '19. It is probably time for a replacement, but I don't really look forward to updating it. It's a hassle. Understand, I have an android. I know, I know - "get an apple'. I've toyed with it, but I'm fine with androids and sometimes the more a thing gets hyped up, the more insistent I am that I don't gravitate to it. 

4. The toaster. This is a perfect example of THEY DON'T MAKE 'EM LIKE THEY USED TO. I've lost track of how many toasters we've had since Coach and I were married. Maybe 4? 5? In 27 years. That seems ridiculous. 

Growing up, I believe we had the same toaster forEVAH. 

I don't toast anything, because I don't eat bread. The toaster will work. At times. Reg figured out how to use a banana to keep the button down while he makes the rest of his breakfast, but now even holding it down isn't a guarantee that it'll decide to toast. I need to replace it, because I have bagel eating kids. I just haven't yet. Too frustrated. I can't decide it I should spend a lot and hope for the best. I don't think the ones I've bought are crappy brands, necessarily. Should I buy a cheap one? 

Am I alone - are there things or brands you refuse to purchase or switch from because everyone says you MUST? Are you an android or an iPhone user? Tomorrow will be a shorter post. Promise. Then Monday will be info shared. Get excited, or don't,. Your call. Also, the next post is short. Then Monday will be the start of my info sharing. Brace yourself. 

convincing uncles of the wrong birthday, get your hands out of my mouth, & offspring birthdates

We waited for Ed to come home last night before we cut into the Costco pumpkin pie that was for Coach's birthday. 

It was beautiful here
yesterday and I took my
 6 charges to a forest preserve
 and nature canter.
I didn't lost anyone, the others
 just aren't in this photo.

In my defense of not baking a cake, I made delicious Balsamic Chicken and Peppers dinner and I cannot believe we only have like 3 chicken breasts left. That's what I get for making something so good.*poof, gone* I'd normally have cooked AND baked, but Coach and I are struggling (not as much as Reg, but it is so hard to watch him cope and I have no idea how he is getting himself to school) with this situation and we are both distracted. 

When Ed got home, I was in the study and I heard him say something in the kitchen that sounded like this:

What? It isn't Dad's birthday. His birthday is the 25th. 

Me:  Huh? No, Ed. Today is Dad's birthday.

Oh, crap. Sorry, Dad. I even ran into Uncle John in the city this morning and he said HEY, ISN'T IT YOUR DAD'S BIRTHDAY TODAY? I assured him that it wasn't. That it was the 25th.

Our brown-nose son was not scoring points with this mix up. In all honestly, Coach couldn't have cared less. 

Ed has run into his uncles in the city a handful of times, since he started working there in July. He works from home sometimes. Do you know how big Chicago is? It's HUGE. Uncle John is married to Coach's sis. He and my brothers, Pat and Mike, are Ed's buildings are all in a row on or near the same main street. What are the chances? 

Wednesday afternoon I had a dentist appointment. Nothing says, HOW CAN A DAY BE MORE IRRITATING WHEN I'M ALREADY IN SUCH A DISTRAUGHT STATE than going to the dentist. Right? It was Coach's birthday and I lingered too long in the kitchen prepping the peppers for dinner, so I was running a few minutes late for my appointment. 

I loved LOVED our former dental hygienist, Annie. She even texted Lad back during the dark.days, urging him to get the help he needed. She was amazing. I love our dentist too. Fun fact, I used to be his kids' babysitter when I was 12. 

Unrelated, but this is the 2 new guys while
 eating breakfast. I turned around and they
 were perhaps making a friendly wager? Or
 shaking on a deal. "I won't cry at drop
 off anymore if you won't."
I'd like them to make a deal to say,
 HOW 'BOUT YOU TELL YOUR MOM
 TO STOP NIT-PICKING ERNIE? More on
that story to follow, but right now I NEED
 EVERYONE TO LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE
 AND RECOGNIZE THAT SOMETIMES YOU
 NEED TO TELL YOUR KID TO GET OVER STUFF. 

Anyway, Annie left and I canNOT stand the woman who cleans my teeth. She's not friendly or warm or personable. I laid there wishing I was doing ANYTHING but having a person's hand in my mouth when I feel so ready-to-bite. 

*******

Anne asked how old my kids are, and how far apart in age they each are:

Lad was born June of '98. Ed was born 2 years and 4 months later in October '00, and I was bummed that they were going to be 3 years apart in school. Tank arrived in December of '02, and Mini followed 16 months later in April of '04. Then Reg came along just after Christmas in January of '06, and Curly in December of '07. 

I think you'll 'meet' Curly tomorrow. I was gonna share that post today, but I'm debating shortening it. Hmm?

*I accidentally had two posts show up this morning. I deleted the one that wasn't supposed to pop up today. If you saw it and you got a sneak peek into the upcoming news . . . you are in the 'know.' 

this just in: test results, & THE CALL. Plus CHIVALRY?

I pause these offspring intros (there's only one left) to share the latest. 

I have SIBO. Not a big surprise. I can tell I've lost weight again. The discomfort in my side was my constant companion today. 

The question:  HOW WILL THEY TREAT IT? Last time they gave me REALLY strong antibiotics. I've read online (remember, the doc vanished last time and I never had a follow up, so google was all I had) that it's really hard to get rid of and sometimes it requires surgery.

I will tell you this. I will NOT go through that pre-test prep again. NEVER. It does feel good to have an answer. Makes me feel less crazy. Sort of. 

THE CALL:  

This afternoon, Coach and I had a phone call with the varsity coach, 'Evil', who didn't put Reg on the team. 

*review:  (familiar, just skip) Lest you think I'm whining, Reg is probably the #1 talent at our high school. On his worst day, he's 3rd best. This summation comes from Ed who doesn't embellish. Not trying to brag, just sharing info. This was retaliation because we prompted the former coach, Ego, to be investigated for unprofessional behavior. The school district found that the coach was not meeting high standards of the district. Rather than remove him, they shuffled Ego and Evil  around. Thus new coach, Evil, who is the Ego's best friend. 

21. That's our guy. This was last year. Hard to
 believe that his b-ball career is over. 

People, I'd heard the Evil was unintelligent, but the evidence of his shortcomings on this call was STAGGERING. There may or may not have been an iPad nearby, so that things could later be reviewed for clarity. That conversation on replay may or may not have served as our dinner time entertainment. 

We have a lawyer now. His instructions were to talk to Evil. If it wasn't resolved then the lawyer would call the principal and then if he doesn't get anywhere, lawsuit.

Prior to the 2:00 call, I felt like I might pass out all.damn.day. I was so anxious about what this idiot Evil might say about Reg. There's a lot of bull shit talk coming from a teammate , 'Snake'. Snake tells Reg that while Evil refused to meet with Reg or discuss his tryout with Reg, Evil spoke with Snake about why he, Reg, didn't make the team. Really? Do tell. 

Snake:  YOU SAID SOMETHING. (hmm, care to elaborate?)

I've lost sleep worrying about what they were going to create or scrape together. What did Reg say? Did he text someone that he hates this coach? Reg swore up and down that he didn't do ANYTHING. 

Then the call happened and it was like something out of a movie. Evil listed 15 leadership qualities that they wrote on a white board at tryouts. Plus two basketball qualities. They measured the kids against these qualities during the two days of tryouts and Reg just didn't measure up against the other kids. 

Leadership:  Loyalty, accountability, passion, time management, volunteer in the community, integrity, make others better around them, unselfishness, scholarship in the classroom, availability, (something) team building, (something) communication, willingness to commit extra time to the greater good of the team, help others in school community/and youth (like, what?), 

and my personal favorite . . . chivalry. 

Basketball qualities:  defense is a priority, and variety of basketball skills (how is this one quality?). 

Curly said it best:  BUT REG EMBODIES ALL OF THOSE THINGS, PROBABLY MORE THAN ANY GUY WHO MADE THE TEAM. We all chuckled about how a coach measures chivalry during a tryout. Does he fetch a bunch of elderly women into the field house and see which player opens the door for them first? Or does he expect kids to say 'NO, AFTER YOU, I INSIST' while rebounding? 

I asked the coach:  OH, WHAT VOLUNTEER INVOLVEMENTS OF REG'S ARE YOU AWARE OF? WHAT OTHER VOLUNTEER OPPORTUNIITES HAVE THE OTHER GUYS BEEN INVOVLED IN? 

He stumbled around. Long pause. How did that impact tryouts then? Coach asked  where Reg fell short. Evil couldn't name any one thing. He kept saying IT WAS CUMMULATIVE. But how did he not measure up, if you actually don't know what volunteer work he does? Also, did Evil run alongside guys while they were dribbling up and down the court and ask them where they volunteer? 

As one of the moms I sit for pointed out, WHY DOES EVERYONE NEED TO BE A LEADER? She coaches varsity soccer at our high school. 

I feel relieved that Evil didn't t have anything on Reg or make anything up. Coach pointed out during the call that since Evil didn't have any concrete reason why this two time all conference player didn't make the team, then something seemed dirty and retaliation was obvious. I referenced the fact that Reg was the team's top defender last year, and Evil said:  ASSUMPTIONS, THAT'S AN ASSUMPTION. 

Me:  NOPE. YOU CAN CHECK THE STATS. IT'S A FACT. 

It's earth shattering how this ass hole is going to ruin Reg's high school experience, well - he isn't alone. Spineless, the world's worst AD needs to be held accountable for his role too. 

In the meantime, we're working on t-shirts that say WE WANT SHENANIGAN. I will not rest until the whole lot of them are held responsible for this. Reg would be ineligible if he transferred, even to a Catholic school. We are still hoping that that rule gets overturned, considering the circumstances. 

I'm so sorry this is so long. I so appreciate you reading this post. I feel awful for insisting that last year's coach, Ego, be investigated. Maybe Reg would still be playing. Poor, sweet Reg. Oh, today is Coach's birthday.