S at two

Cubby at Ignore the Crazy is making his mama cry. He's 2. Oh, so 2.

I had a two year old like that, about five years ago, and a baby the same age as Bek's is right now. Two year old S made me cry every day, too. And worse. I yelled, I screamed. I am not proud of it, but I spanked. Eventually we went to therapy. It helped. He got older, and that helped. He got an ADHD diagnosis and some medication. That helped the most.

He looked like this.


The rule about the piano was supposed to be only with fingers. Not that I consider a nice, sedate line of cars a major infraction. For major infractions, like the clock shattered with the baseball bat or the Sharpie all over the computer monitor, I was generally too freaked out to take pictures.


We were enjoying Dr. Seuss's ABC at this time. Hence the Goo Goo Goggles.


Some crazy mother thought fingerpaint would be a fun activity. At least I made him do it while restrained in the high chair.


Such a good influence on his younger brother.


Really, he tried to be a good brother. But the baby was so gosh darn BORING! Hitting was a lot more common than puppet shows, unfortunately.


That is a swim diaper. Call it variations on a theme.


This little guy was G's favorite ornament from childhood. S promptly christened him Christmas Lightyear and broke him within moments. Those crash landings can be rough.


Can't let baby brothers have all the fun. So what if the furniture might get broken?


Okay, irresistable. How could I have yelled at this kid? It is getting hard to remember.


Crazy mother still tries to do craft projects with the children. I believe this one had to do with Fun Foam stamps and white paint on red and green paper. Not that too much paint actually made it onto the paper.


Who's in charge of this detachment?


It's hard work being two.

Nest feathering

One thing I did over Christmas vacation was working on a real baby room for Z via ebay bargain hunting. It's going to be mega cute.



I got this crib for $85. Will ship from the east coast for $30. Still a steal of a deal.

The bedding is the real bargain. Looky this! $75 for the whole shebang -- quilt, sheet, bumper, dust ruffle, window valance, diaper holder, accent pillow and toy bag! All purply and daisies. I love daisies; they were my wedding flower. I am so excited!



I am back at work today ... feels good, I have to say. G has the kids -- he decided he was going to have Z anyway so he might as well keep the boys, too. Crazy man. Really crazy.

I love ya, tomorrow

The boys go back to daa-aay-care!

Sing with me! I cannot take one more mess, one more fight, one more gross out, one more annoyance!

Are you still celebrating?

I actually kind of love it when Christmas packages arrive late. It just prolongs the fun, ya know?



The boys now have adorable fleece cheetah pants with tails from my mom and A has the most wonderful cowboy/indian/Peter Pan dress-up set from his birthmom. Thank you, special moms!

And I have a new CD to listen to from my dad. He tells me he listens to this very very loud on his car stereo. I asked him if people stare at stoplights. He said yes. So if you are driving around Salt Lake and you see a very pretty white SUV blasting a boys' choir and organ, look for the friendly bearded man inside and give him a wave for me. Hi, Dad!






Plus, we have now set up some of our original Christmas gifts, like my beautiful fireplace set -- yes, from my beloved Target. Actually I bet you could count on one hand the things in the picture here that are not from Target. Probably there is a special circle of hell for hypocrites like me who loudly decry WalMart while worshipping at the red bullseye at least twice a week.



And the Batmobile! After three days of cooperative work by G and S, it is complete!



Disclaimer: I do not know how or when my boys perfected that satanic tongue-stuck-out expression a la the Rolling Stones. We do not even listen to the Stones much around here. Although I could go for a few tracks about now.

This afternoon we are going to see Night at the Museum. Review later!

Have yourself a merry little Christmas

And how I wish I had never told G about the Twisted Sister version of that song I heard on Fresh Air on NPR this week. It was not what I would have chosen to listen to while playing Santa Claus last night. I guess that is a disadvantage of my beloved Rhapsody. You really can find just about anything.



Here we all are in our matching PJs last night. Can you tell it makes me happy to get the whole fam-damnily in matching PJs? I have no idea why moms like stuff like that, but we do. At least I do.

There was a picture of Z here but I took it down so I won't get in trouble. Sorry, slowpokes! If you want to see it shoot me an e-mail and I'll send it, as long as I am reasonably sure you are not a creep.

Encounter in the produce aisle

Guess who I saw today? Baby J! In Food4Less by the oranges! He was in a stroller being pushed by his mom. I asked how old he was and what his name was because I wanted to be sure. It was definitely him. He has grown nicely and is still very, very cute. I did not give any hint that he was at our house for his 27 hours in foster care. But it was nice to see him.

Meanwhile, at home, Z is also thriving. Cuter every day, I swear. The three-week growth spurt has hit; she is eating tons and sleeping deep, but also definitely focusing her eyes better and having more awake, alert time every day.

I bought a Boppy pillow today. I had one for the boys but washed it so often it fell apart. The new ones have slipcovers -- so nice! Already my back feels better.

After a draining day, another draining day

You know that part in The Horse and His Boy where Shasta rides all night to find Aslan and then Aslan just tells him he has to get back on the horse and ride again?

Or something like that. It has been a while since I read that book -- 3 years or so, and my memory is much shorter than 3 years.

Anyway, I think about that a lot. The reward for a task completed is another task to do.

Monday just about kicked my butt. I was exhausted and sleep deprived. I was trying to work at home. The house was a disaster. G had left for Livermore. And I had to take Z for a visit with her mom (my heart already says birthmom) at the county human services agency. I was so distractible all day. I don't think I accomplished much of anything. I kept trying to sit down and work, and I couldn't stand the mess, so I'd get up to clean. But I couldn't focus on cleaning because I had a baby to gaze at. And I couldn't gaze at the baby for long because I had work to do.

Sal came to see me and brought me a caramel apple cider from Starbucks which was fahbulous. I went to lunch with the ladies from my department at work and had a delicious salad with grilled garlic shrimp and tomatillo dressing. Even that was not enough to focus my poor, freaked-out brain.

Taking Z to the agency was, if possible, even more nerve wracking than the first time. I took in an 8x10 print of our nicest picture of her and a Lenox "Baby's First Christmas" ornament as gifts for meth mommy. I am still mad at her for exposing Z to what she did. But ... but. I am being optimistic, hoping that we will adopt Z and meth mommy will get clean and we will be able to have an open adoption at least to some degree. So I wanted to start off on the right foot. I give nice ornaments to my boys' birthmoms every year and I thought I'd just start the tradition for Z's birthmom in hope and faith. Which means I will probably have to quit calling her meth mommy ... that is probably not very nice.

I dropped Z off at the back door of the agency. I am still not ready to meet meth mommy. (Okay, now I will quit!) From the moment the caseworker took her I felt sick ... nauseated, nervous, sick. It is the weirdest, wrong-est feeling to drive away without her. It is so hard and scary. I so wanted to call someone and whine. I restrained myself. But I got home and got a wonderful package of uber-cute baby stuff from V in Utah ... and cried.

Heavenly Father so watches out for me through the eyes of my girlfriends. The timing of that package was seriously amazing.

Also, we found out we cannot get the court order to take Z to Arizona with us. So we have decided to stay home. How to you spell relief? H-O-M-E. So glad it worked out that way. I would have loved to spend time with G's parents but the whole travel thing for Christmas was freaking me out a lot.

Back to Monday. After a busy evening I finally decided I was going to just have to leave the mess and get my ADD self to bed. Sleep helped a lot.

Yesterday and today have been better. I have sent packages and attended a couple of work meetings and a couple of elementary class Christmas programs. I have done a load of dishes and 2 loads of laundry. I have spent a lot of time feeding and cuddling a darling little girl. I have gotten two nights' sleep with only moderate baby-related interruptions.

I am still tired. G is still not home until tomorrow. I am still not ready for Christmas. But I don't have to think about another visit (along with what it might mean for our future with Z that meth mommy is being so consistent with visits) until Dec. 28. Compared with that stress, a Christmas for which I am not entirely prepared is NOTHING!

My friend B (sometimes known on this blog as crazy B with all her good Mormon craziness) gave me a book called "Remembering Wholeness" that is full of all kinds of crazy stuff. The basic assertion therein is that we create our own reality by what we believe and envision for our lives. I think it's not entirely true ... but not entirely false. Somtimes things really are just beyond our control and sometimes we are meant to have adversity no matter what. We wouldn't hear so much from living prophets about adversity if there were such a simple way for everyone to avoid it entirely.

BUT ... there is real value to persistent and determined optimism, to a positive faith that can drive out fear, to asking God, in real confidence that we will receive, for what we want the most. That is what we're striving for with Z.

That's what's keeping me on the horse these days.

Plymouth Rock would land on them

Yes, my friends, times have changed.

I used to have an organized address list and be so excited to send out Christmas cards that I'd have the letter written in early November and everything stamped and mailed the first week in December.

My life just isn't like that anymore.

I am doing Christmas letters this afternoon. If you want one, please email your address to me. All you cousins who move around the country doing grad school and having babies and stuff, this means you. Also blog friends, if you want in on the fun, jump in.

Sal, I actually have your entire address. Zip code and everything. I think this is my first time mailing something to you without having to call and ask you for part of the address. So you're excused.

Feliz Navidad everybody; my baby is super ultra cute and it's frankly a miracle I am tearing myself away from gazing at her chubby cheeks for long enough to write this. Let alone mail Christmas letters. You might get them by New Year's this year. We'll see.

Baby brother bully buster

When I dropped the kids off at school just now, I happened to notice a big kid -- maybe fourth grade -- with a little kid -- maybe first grade -- in some kind of upside-down head lock, shouting, "Drop it now!" Who knows what he wanted the kid to drop, but I was pretty sure this was not a regulation move.

I rolled down my window and yelled, "HEY!" All three froze and then looked up at the sleepy-looking mom in a hat driving the white minivan. You know, the crusader-for-justice stereotype.

The big kid's friend thought he'd explain the situation. "It's his brother," he said.

"You don't treat anyone like that, no matter who it is," I said.

They split. I felt like Spider-Man. Total hero.

I also felt good in another way, a little more twisted way, because although my boys fight, it's just not like that -- such an uneven distribution of power. My boys fight like friends.

That's weird, that I am proud of the way my kids fight.

Can shopping count as an expression of faith?

I just bought a bunch of pink summer clothes in size 6-12 months.

What are you singing this Christmas?

I often remember Christmases by what I sang that year. For example, there was the year I sang "Cool Yule" and "A La Nanita Nana" at the ward party ... a capella, because I was too lazy to call someone to accompany me. And there was the year I sang "O Holy Night" at the ward party ... a capella, beacuse I was too lazy to call someone to accompany me.

That wasn't a typo, just an emerging pattern. Fortunately I can hold my own a capella. That's an important skill for a lazy singer with a phone phobia.

There was also the first year in Merced when it was so rainy and I sang "White Christmas" to myself over and over and over, then got a chance to do it (and other songs, too) at a company party for a member of our ward. They paid me a sorely needed $50. That was three years ago.

Two years ago I was fascinated with "I Wonder As I Wander." I sang it at the community's World AIDS Day vigil.

Last year I finally forced myself to learn "Gesu Bambino," something I've wanted to sing for a long time.

This year:

"Some Children See Him" for the Relief Society Party last Wednesday and again for sacrament meeting this coming Sunday ... perfect for me this year with the increasingly rainbowish family

"What Child is This" (Sally DeFord's lovely arrangment) for the ward party last Friday

That insanely high Mack Wilberg arrangement of "Joy to the World" with the ward choir this Sunday ... it is gorgeous but makes me dizzy!

"Still the Holiest Night," also with the ward choir this Sunday

The ward choir is doing a lot more but I am going to be in Tucson on Christmas Eve, so I have not attended choir practice much. Maybe that's why I'm feeling the void of Christmas music this season and blogging about it, probably to excess.

Christmas is music, yes it is!

Next year I want to learn "In the Bleak Mid-Winter." Anybody know a nice arrangement for a soprano soloist?

What's playing at your house this Christmas?

We have our old favorites:



And some more recent discoveries(for us -- they're not all new releases):



And of course the quintessential:



Plus lots and lots of fun stuff I find on Rhapsody.

Feliz Navidad, have some carnitas

We had Sally Lou and fam over this afternoon and evening for games and dinner. Sally re-taught us Phase 10 (we forget games easily) and taught us Spite. Way fun.

We had these carnitas and woo, they rocked! Better than candy! We were going to go get a pie for dessert but no dessert was needed.

I heart you Sal. I'm sorry you weren't feeling well and had to go home early. I wish you could have stayed all evening.

Notice me not telling about your wicked caffeine addiction and your hyper-competitive-bordering-on-evil gameplaying style?

Oh. Well, I still love you.

Wasn't it cool how the kids hardly fought at all? Times have changed. For the better.

Is it too much to ask

That people with gory evil reproduction stories just keep them to themselves?

Honestly, I understand that people with bio kids sometimes have a hard time getting them, too. But they don't have to tell me exactly how long it took them to conceive (almost infallibly shorter than the 5 years we spent on that train), what they did that worked (TMI, people, TMI), how their doctor told them they should never have that sixth (!!) child, their near-miscarriages, actual miscarriages, high blood pressure, gestational diabetes, hospital stays, two weeks of pushing, whatever.

You don't have to justify your fertility to me. I am happy that you have children born into your family. However, I'm a little less happy, generally speaking, when you insist on dwelling on the parts of our experience that are different rather than the parts that are the same and reminding me that there is a subsection of the Woman Club that I will never be able to join.

-end rant-

First thing

The first thing anybody notices about baby Z is her eyelashes. That was the first thing the nurses at the hospital even said to me when I went to pick her up -- "Wait until you see her eyelashes!" They really are incredibly long and pretty! (I figure it is safe to show you just eyelashes, don't you think?)

As I think back, this was actually true for my boys, as well. S had these curly, black eyelashes that just arrested people. Well, that, and his ears. For some reason people noticed his ears. Little old ladies would always say, "Look how his ears lie so nice and flat to his head!"

A has girly eyelashes to this day. Just absolutely luxurious fringe around his deep, dark eyes.

Good to know Z could hold her own in an eyelash-batting contest around here, if it came to that. She's far more likely to have to compete in a belching contest, but as it happens, she is pretty darn good at that, too.

Because I have been given

So much to be thankful for today!

• This sweet baby! Oh, my gosh, she is perfect. In the back of my mind I know it could be temporary. In my heart she is already mine. But right this moment my heart is right, she is mine for now and I get to enjoy every minute.
• A wonderful husband! I am so grateful right now for a man who was brave enough to open up his heart to the possibility of a little child, even when it wasn't his idea. And a man whose arms I can come home to and be sure of even on scary days like yesterday when I had to leave Z with meth mommy for a whole hour and then when I came back to get her they couldn't find her for about 10 minutes, and then I got her back smelling like cigarettes. Yep, scary.
• Big gangly long-legged boys who still like to give hugs and are great helpers, each in his own way.
  
• A flexible and supportive workplace! Guess what, I am working FROM HOME until after Christmas, except on Tuesday and Thursday mornings when G will take care of Z and on Wednesday mornings when my friend C in the ward will watch her while I attend staff meeting. Wahoo!!! I feel so blessed, so lucky!
• Inexplicable blessings! After visiting another baby daycare today and feeling so discouraged ... I have found a childcare situation for after Christmas that seems almost too good to be true. A family who is also preparing for foster-adopt. They have a two year old son and that's it. Located in a great neighborhood where two of our friends with little kids already live. Makes me wanna move there! I'm visiting this family tomorrow but so far it seems SO great, and I just have a really good feeling about it!

Big day - little update

The court hearing was not the bypass services hearing like I thought. It was a detention hearing. The court did confirm that the county was correct to detain Z. They will do the bypass services hearing on Jan. 16. So we have 6 more weeks to pray.

We also went to the doctor with Z and she had a visit with her birthmom. Both went okay. Z is back up at 8 lbs 14 oz, so almost at her birthweight and that is great. The birthmom visit was nervewracking but fine.

More details to come. I have to get dinner on the table and get ready for Mutual.

Q&A on foster adopt

Today we took baby Z to church. I was not sure if it was doing the right thing. She is only 4 days old and it is cold, flu and RSV season. But we had responsibilities and for heaven's sake, she's 9 pounds. Not exactly fragile.

Plus I figured since I got a plastic Christmas tree I might as well go ahead and betray all my principles and get myself a baby bucket. So she just spent the whole time in the baby bucket. And I spend the whole time answering people's questions. I thought you, loyal readers (ha) might like the same information.

Any baby who is born testing positive for drugs or alcohol is immediately detained by the county child welfare agency and placed in foster care upon discharge from the hospital. And thank you, blog readers, for not asking THAT question which is the ONE I am most sick of. There is no good way to answer it without either violating Z's privacy or lying. I have taken to saying, "They don't take these babies away for no reason," an answer with which I am still unsatisfied. I can't stand the labels that come from that -- drug baby, crack baby, meth baby.

Within three working days there must be a court hearing to determine whether the county will bypass services for the birthmom. Well, really just the mom since she is still legally the mother. If they bypass services that pretty much means the mom has lost her chance. This happens most frequently when the birthmom has already lost custody of another child or children or has had other babies born "pos tox." Z's mom has lost four older children, to their father (not the same father as Z's). It is horrible, actually. Meth is Satan, I think.

If they offer services to the mom then she will usually have between 3 and 6 months to clean up her act. Technically. Which, sadly enough, is pretty hard to do if you are already so addicted that you are doing meth within days before giving birth. I am fully aware that there is a sick mother here who is losing children because of a behavior that has become an illness she cannot control. I don't know if I believe she deserves to lose them. But I certainly do not believe Z deserves a meth mommy, and I am skeptical about her ability to get clean now if she couldn't do it when she was pregnant.

Where it gets complicated is if there is an extended family member or a father who comes forward and wants to take the child. So far they do not know of anybody but that doesn't mean they aren't out there. The putative father is incarcerated so at least we know he's not taking custody of any babies anytime soon.

Next most common question: "What nationality is she?" Uh, American. But if you were asking about ethnicity, Z is half white, half Hispanic, we think. It is a little funny, because we have always said we are just sticking with white and black, we aren't trying to become a rainbow family, but you know, never say never I guess.

Another question: what am I doing about work? I have a maternity leave plan in place. Currently I am off until after Tuesday's court hearing. At that point I will arrange childcare if the court decides to work toward reunification with the mom, or take 6 weeks off if it looks like it is moving toward adoption.

But, we have to remember, we may not have answers for a long time. Our friends Steve and Susie started this process about three years ago, and they just finally finalized their adoption of their little boy before they moved to Utah last spring. There was a lot of heartbreaking back and forth during that time with an aunt who was trying to gain custody. But there was a happy ending in a sealing room of the Fresno temple, and we got to be there. I'm keeping that day in my mind.

In spite of the daylong Q&A, I am glad we took Z to church. We now have an entire ward in love with her and praying for the outcome we want in Tuesday's court hearing where they will decide whether to bypass services for Z's mom. If any of my blog friends would like to join us with prayers and positive thoughts, I would appreciate it a lot.

Dear Baby Z

It is a darn good thing you are gorgeous, because you have no talent for sleeping. Also, is this a girl thing, this insistence on having a clean diaper before you eat? And also, how is it possible for one tiny person to soak through three nightgowns in one night?

Not that you are really that tiny. At 8 lbs 15 oz I think you may just be equipped to take on the wild things, aka your foster brothers. I am sorry about G calling you Queen Kong. It's not your fault we just watched that overblown silliness they called a movie. Don't listen to him. You are gorgeous, I mean it.

Now I am going to join your morning nap.

Buckle up, buttercup

We're picking up a baby girl tonight. Her name is Z and she was born yesterday. Obviously doing well since she is ready to be discharged already.

Can I just say I've always wanted a baby girl whose name starts with Z? My great-grandmother's name was Zula, which I think is cool as heck. Or, hecka cool, as my kids would say. Grandma Zu didn't want any kids named after her, but you know, times have changed and Zula and other Z names are not that odd anymore.

Hope baby Z stays with us a bit longer than a day. At the moment, the odds look good.

Can you IMAGINE a GIRL in our family!?!?

More old lady wisdom

I have fond memories of Young Women activities, both in Pennsylvania and in Alaska, visiting widows. Sometimes we took treats or helped around the house, but more than anything we were there to listen. That's what it took for me to get it -- to realize that these older sisters had hearts and lives and senses of humor just like mine. Eventually I felt they were friends. When one sister passed away, all the Young Women attended her funeral. Her first name was Fern. I've forgotten her last name.I've forgotten a lot of what they told us, but I remember stories about working in a candy factory, love stories, motherhood stories.

Last night we took four Mia Maids to visit a colorful and funny older sister, Charmaine. What a great storyteller! Her dad was a vaudeville performer and then a Greyhound bus driver, and she spent her childhood shuttling back and forth between Modesto and Salt Lake City. She described her memories of meeting with the one Modesto ward (maybe it was even a branch) in a home, then a rented building, then the Oddfellows' Hall. Now Modesto has two stakes. She told of going to a different stake dance every week in Salt Lake City, hopping on a bus in her fancy dress to get to a different stake center and riding the bus back between 11 p.m. and midnight. She told how special she felt dancing with her dad at church dances. She told about when her family got their first refrigerator and she and her sister -- 9 and 10 years old -- "swang" on the door until they tipped the fridge over, effectively destroying it. And how her parents just quietly cleaned up the mess.

It brought back all those old-lady-wisdom memories for me. I hope the girls enjoyed it as much as I did.

The incredible edible A

Two funnies from my very funny five year old yesterday. Click the links if you need explanations.

Holding a paper wreath he made in preschool last year that was packed away next to some very powerful cinnamon potpourri:

"Smell this! It smells just like a whole bunch of Hockamollys!"

Sitting around the dinner table eating pie (hey, it was Family Night!) while we read a very scary Urgal battle scene in Eragon:

"How about the bad guys in Lord of the Rings? They're called forks."

That's what we're all about in our family. Lots and lots of candy, and movies that are not age-appropriate! Yeah!

Really, we're having the kid's hearing tested next week. We know he has calicification on his eardrums from the multiple infections he had before his tube placement last February, and I want to make sure he is really hearing okay. This thought-you-saiding and mispronunciation is hilarious but it makes me worry a little bit.

Still here

Honestly, it just seems like anything else I post now is going to be kind of a letdown after all that exciting baby drama. We are doing fine, we realize that this is what we signed up for when we chose to become licensed foster parents. It was tough at first but this was really just not the same as losing your own child.

Internally I know I am still processing it. Last night I dreamed that the county called me up and told me that J and his brother were now available for adoption. But even while I was dreaming it I knew it was not real.

We had a lovely weekend with my parents. We visited the zoo in Fresno, the mineral museum in Mariposa, and Yosemite National Park. We played a lot, and I do mean a lot, of Uno Attack. Fun game, that.

Put up the indoor Christmas decorations yesterday. And an artificial tree. I know, I'm a big sellout! But we realized that we will be going out of town for Christmas, and it would be unsafe to leave a real tree up and a bummer to take the tree down before we leave. Outside lights going up tonight.

Other than that, it's just back to our old, everyday challenges. Work and schedules and ADHD. Blah blah, same ol' same ol'.

Surprisingly okay

G and our neighbor/former bishop gave baby J a blessing and also me. A social worker and public health nurse took J about 5:15. It was hard; I cried plenty.

We did get a better explanation of the situation. When they went to detain big brother T Tuesday night, they investigated the grandma's house and determined that J could go there. So the sibs can stay together and stay with family. The mom was also moving in there. So that is where they all are now. I think the likelihood of his coming back to us is very very small.

We put all the baby stuff away. I dreamed about his soft hair and cheeks snuggled up next to me. And then I woke up feeling okay and cooked like a madwoman with my mom and sister. We had a delightful Thanksgiving dinner with my family and some Chinese friends from the university (it almost wouldn't be Thanksgiving for me without Chinese or Indian guests!) and a disabled guy from our ward. Everything came out perfectly. The food was great if I do say so, everybody talked. S got the whole crowd playing Uno Attack (persistent little stinker) and it turned out to be tons of fun.

J came here to open up some hearts -- G's and S's, mostly, I think. He was very good at his job. S sat and read J a book -- twice -- and urged me to "touch his ears, they're so soft!" G keeps showing me the pictures of J he took on his cell phone. I think he was surprised he could fall for a newborn like that. It's a good development. We're ready for what might come next.

That was fast

Baby J will go back to his mom at 5:30 PM. Something about attorneys and agency policy. Honestly, I cannot understand 50% of what the very nice Hmong social worker says. Maybe he'll bring something in writing.

Processing. Sad.

Hoping my parents get here in time to meet him. Hoping he'll be okay when we don't have him anymore.

Update after the first night

J is an exceptional sleeper. I fed him before I went to bed about 11:45. He woke for a feed and change at 3:30 and then slept until 8:15! He has been awake all mornign and is now (10:15) down for a nap. I sure hope it stays this easy.

The social worker called about 8 last night to say the police would not detain T. The county is going to try to get a court order on Monday to detain him and place him with us. To me that seems to indicate that they have good reasons to detain -- reasons that are private for the kids, but reasons that should make it a pretty open and shut case, the way it has been explained to me. The mom is gonna lose these boys. It is so sad.

Still, the grandma who has T right now could step forward and press for custody. We'll see what happens. Anyway if T comes it won't be until Monday.

Five family, for now

When my brother Jake was born -- the third child in the clan -- I was so excited to be "a five family." That's how I said it, reportedly, at age 3.5 (my poor mother).

Well, now I have a five family, at least for a while.

Baby J is 6lb 9oz and doing awesome, eating and sleeping and pooping like he should. He has lots and lots of very black silky straight hair and dark gray eyes. Skinny limbs and long digits. Obviously he is not full African American, and we think probably at least part Hispanic, but beyond that who knows?

The caseworker called a few minutes ago to say he was just waiting for a police escort so he could detain J's 3 year old brother, T, who is currently with his grandma. There may not be trouble, and I sure hope not for T's sake, but they have to be ready just in case. So really we may not stay a five family for long at all. It may be late at night when T gets here. We are in for an adventure.

The boys' mother -- we can't say birthmother yet because legally she is still their mother -- was discharged from the hospital yesterday but has not been back to see him. I'm trying very hard not to read anything into anything, not to expect much. This beautiful child could be gone in a week. Or he could be here six months and then be gone. That's the risk we're taking here.

Sam says "he has nice big cheeks like this" and he pinches his own cheeks.

Abe cannot leave him alone to save his life. He adores him.

I can't share identifying pictures on the blog, again because he's not really my baby at this point.
But maybe I can get some good toe pictures. I'll work on it.

We said yes!

Barring something unexpected, we will have a 3 day old baby boy by tonight. Also possibly his 3 year old brother, but we're less sure about that. I am waiting for a call from the placement worker with more details.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Here it comes

First call from the county. Still deciding whether to take the placement. G is in class. I am waiting for him to call me back.

Hitchcock has nothing on this kind of suspense.

I almost forgot

Fasting clears the static, and God generally has something important to say on the cleared channel.

I will be the first to admit, I stink at fasting and I don't particularly like it. This is because, as you know, I love food.

However, after an extremely rough week for my brilliant and beautiful little square peg in the public school system, I was determined. I actually fasted when it was not Fast Sunday. It's one for the history books, folks. There are so many questions right now, and it seems overwhelming to face them all by myself. Is ADHD really the right diagnosis, or the complete diagnosis? Do we need a full psychiatric eval? Should we continue with neurofeedback? Do we need to adjust the medication dosage?

My friend M (yes, that M) came by visiting teaching and mentioned the name of an LDS pediatric psychiatrist fairly nearby -- an hour away, which is about as close as any pediatric psychiatrist, unfortunately -- who has helped someone in her extended family. She also bore her testimony of fasting from when her baby was sick and the ward fasted for her (see the linked post for the story). The day after the ward fast, E's blood counts turned around.

And my friend B (yes, that B) happened to give G a ride home from some meetings and stayed to visit a bit. She has a son with a frontal lobe injury, so we do exchange brain-related ideas sometimes. A lot of S's behaviors and challenges are not that different from her son's, and it's interesting. And, as usual, in the middle of all her crazy stuff there were some real gems. For example, reducing input to the brain during times of stress by covering one eye. And massaging in a figure-8 pattern. And not giving up on the neurofeedback because although it's not totally proven it is about the best thing out there right now. And you know, she's just encouraging and sweet and wonderful in all her craziness.

G was talking to someone else in the ward about B. This other person said, "I just can't believe that God really talks that much."

And yet He always has something to say to B. She's always fasting. Hmmm, maybe that's why.

In the stone age

That's me. Won't have a Christmas tree for a few more weeks. Gotta have the ritual, go to the tree lot, choose the tree, cut off the bottom, straighten it out, string the lights. It will take all day. And the kids will be sad because it will not have fluffy fake snow all over it. But it will smell so dang good.

So I'm just wondering, what about you? Yes, folks, you can now make your voice heard on the all important question. Christmas trees, real or artificial?

Ain't it just

Too quiet, and not sunshiney enough, when SalGal isn't around? I miss my friend.

Sally, come home!

Weeknight dinner

Lately I have pretty much given up any serious cooking on weeknights. They are mostly for leftovers, pancakes, sandwiches, burritos, and spaghetti. That's 5 weeknight meals right there, so why stretch? You can substitute french toast for the pancakes if you like. Try slicing some bananas on top instead of using butter with your maple syrup. Yummy!

Tuesday night is generally sandwich night because I have Mutual to go to and I want to simplify preparation for me and cleanup for G. (That's right, G is my cleanup man, and so many other things too. I'm a very spoiled wife.) Never one to knock a good meal of tuna melts and Campbell's Healthy Request Tomato Soup, I love my Tuesdays.

But last night I realized that if I made sandwiches for everybody we would be out of bread by the end of the day today. And I refuse to set food in a grocery store before Saturday.

So here is what we had instead:

Garden Turkey Wraps

1/2 a recipe red pepper-dill cream cheese (below)
12 slices deli turkey
1 c chopped lettuce
12 tomato slices
4 Mission whole wheat tortillas

Spread each tortilla with about 3-4 tbsp cream cheese mixture (below). Layer on turkey, lettuce and tomatoes. Roll up to serve. Have some carrot sticks on the side. Pretend it is still summer.

Red Pepper-Dill Cream Cheese

1 block cream cheese, or neufchatel if you are being good (I was not being good, there was real cream cheese on sale for a dollar this week)
3/4 tsp dry dill
1/2 a red bell pepper, diced very very fine (if you have some roasted red pepper that would be awesome, but I used fresh which was also delicious)
1/2 tsp lemon juice
salt and pepper to taste

Mix it all together in your Kitchenaid.

Nearing the precipice

Talking with G last night, I realized we are once again at the point where we don't know exactly where we are going to be in a year. Last time we stood at this crossroads, when G was deciding on a Ph.D. program, we thought our choice was between moving to Tucson and staying in Salt Lake. We ended up in California. Right now it looks like it's between staying here and maybe moving to Fresno, but who knows what other possibilities may arise?

Nerds that we are, we paged through the entire road atlas last night, looking for places that are racially diverse and tolerant, full of opportunities in higher education for G and me, not too far from our families (mine in Salt Lake and G's parents' winter home in Arizona), not too gray (we're a bit prone to seasonal affective stuff), Mormon-friendly, and preferably not too expensive. Central California is a perfect fit, except for the expensive part. Big sigh.

Texas seems like a good bet. I loved San Antonio so much. Do you have any idea how many universities they have in that state? We lost count. And the cost of houses (low low low) makes me drool. The money that would buy me a shack by the railroad tracks here would get me a brand-new 5-bedroom house with a pool in the Houston suburbs. I think I could handle the heat and humidity if I had a brand-new 5-bedroom house with a pool.

The Denver or Phoenix areas might work. Reno holds some attraction. (I have no love for Vegas, sorry.) We loved St. Paul when we lived there briefly, and Milwaukee when we picked up our darling S, but it's so cold and so far from Grandma's house. North Carolina, where A was born, is beautiful and seems fairly tolerant as southeastern states go, but again, distance is a problem.

It's hard to imagine a job for G in Utah unless one particular professor we know retires at exactly the right time. And although it is still my home in many ways, I don't know if I would feel so patient with its vanillaness, now that I've been away from it for a couple of years. As much as we'd love to go back.

We'd go back to Alaska, where we both went to high school, probably only if God physically appeared before us and told us we had to. Ice fog and 60 below sound like Outer Darkness to me.

We'd take Hawaii if we could make enough money to live there comfortably, meaning in a house where we could control the bugs and lizards and stuff. It's far from the family, but we bet they'd deign to visit us once or twice a year. And if we ever got too sad about being far away from them we could get over it quick with a little trip to the beach. Are you listening, Laie?

Really, I'm so praying for Fresno. It's a bit cheaper than our town, I think I could keep my job with a little maneuvering, and although the air quality still sucks, it has a temple. And a Nordstrom Rack.

Stay tuned for the next 12 - 18 months. It will be great when we figure out where fate will take us. In the meantime I might be a little on edge.

Monday night smiles

To help you face the last full week before Thanksgiving.



I know it helps me!

Sunday driving

We had a lot of leftovers in the house yesterday. So instead of cooking, we went on a Sunday drive way out on Bear Creek.



The kids were hoping to talk to some cows, but the cows were nowhere near the fence. So we picked some dried thistles and weeds and threw rocks in the canal. That last thing is probably against some kind of rule, but for now I can claim ignorance.



I love the landscapes of the Valley -- orchards and fields and grasslands. Especially ordered rows of trees or grapevines. Something about those cultivated landscapes just makes me feel that all is right with the world.


Also, it is cheesier than anything but I have a fascination with barns. I just always think they make pretty pictures. This is round about what I mean:

Alternatestimony

I can't find now the post I've been thinking about all week. I can't even remember what blog I read it on. It was something about what you say can in testimony meeting when you don't feel honest saying "I know." I loved the post. Where in the heck is it?

I am really lucky. There are some things I can say I know about because I do still hold that feeling is a way of knowing, that I can trust what my heart tells me, for the most part. I still find that love (and specifically adoptive parent love as opposed to sexual attraction or the urge to care for one's biological offspring) is proof to me of a grander scheme, proof that we are more than meat.

But I have an alternate testimony that I want to share, too.

I love the gospel of Christ. I love the Church. I have chosen it, and I am glad.

Party time, excellent

We had the most delightful Young Women in Excellence last night. It was revitalizing -- that's the best way I can describe it. I can't claim credit; I only made certificates and star decorations and consulted with one girl on preparing her display. But it was an awesome night.

The girls gathered at the home of a member near the church. There they were outfitted with feather boas and sunglasses. Members of the High Priests Quorum chauffeured them to the church, where they found a roped-off arrival area and several Young Men to help them out of their cars, as well as "reporters" (an elderly couple from the ward -- they've served three missions) cameras (me and the Laurel advisor) and adoring fans (parents) all wanting interviews, pictures, and autographs.

And, oh yeah, a red carpet. Of course.

They were all so cute and gracious. They giggled and blew kisses and posed and mouthed, "I'm famous!" I can't wait to watch and edit the video I took, but I haven't had time yet.

The program included a musical number -- "I Am Like a Star" -- by two Primary girls, a song by our Young Women, and remarks from our bishop. We handed out certificates and watched a slideshow of all our activities this year. The girls giggled and hid their faces as they saw themselves onscreen swimming, making jam, learning some origami, singing. Those in charge of the slideshow had even gathered photos of girls in their individual activities and at their homes doing soccer, homework, ballet, scripture study, tending younger siblings. It was like a slideshow you might see in the general YW broadcast, but without the headquarters-style slickness that sometimes gets under my skin. It was real -- it was our girls. I loved it, absolutely loved it.

Then we had time to visit our Personal Progress expo. Each girl made a display showing one experience or project she worked on during they year. People actually lingered and talked and asked the girls about their experiences. It was perfect! And we had the most amazing, delicious gold-dusted, star-shaped sugar cookies from Old Tyme Bakery in Turlock (watch out if you ever go there, it is dangerously good!) and pink, sparkly punch (cranberry and 7-up, very elegant, ha!)

One girl who has just in the last several months started to attend activities again through the efforts of my amazing advisor K showed up, did a display, and brought her mom, who has basically left the Church but is willing to let her daughters continue to participate. Younger brothers and sisters came to see what their older sisters had done. The stake YW presidency and the bishopric were there, engaged with our girls. I was just so happy to see all this happen!

Honestly, I am the slacker of the group in our YW board. My life just does not allow me to be there for everything and do everything I want to. I can't be the one visiting girls in their homes and doing Personal Progress with them. I can't be the one driving to the next town over to pick up the girls from the Spanish Branch for activities. Basically I teach a Sunday lesson a couple of times a month, I give hugs and smiles, I plan the occasional activity, I send notes in the mail, and I love the girls. That's all I can do.

Last night I felt like with the efforts of the rest of the board, what I can do might actually be doing some good.

Bumper, dude

That was some little kid's version of "bummer, dude." I forget now which little kid it was. Maybe someone G and I had in Nursery when we were at BYU.

I just spent an hour scrambling around trying to find a particular political science professor to be on Good Morning America tomorrow. I couldn't find him, and the liaison for the show called back to say they had decided to go in a different direction. Our chance is gone. That would have been unspeakably cool.

On the bright side, now I get to go home to my family instead of spending the night doing media stuff.

But still. Bumper.

Company dessert

So we had some people over for Sunday dinner today and it was kind of a fiasco in some ways. Will someone please make me just quit trying to make mashed potatoes? I am cursed, I tell you. When my parents come for Thanksgiving in a few weeks my mom is going to have to do the potatoes. I cannot make nice mashed potatoes to save my life. Today my problem was undercooking them just a tad, so they were lumpy. Tasty, because I mixed in some butternut squash and plenty of butter and whole milk, but lumpy. Wah.

The roast beef and peas and gravy turned out fine, thankfully. My mama taught me good. And I made a good dessert. Ugly but good. It just did not set up firm enough to cut properly. So on the plate it resembled my famous banana cream pile (watch out for those dang disposable pie tins ... but that was a different day).

I think next time I will make it in ramiekins instead of a pie tin. That would solve the serving problem and also be conceptually good because of how it resembles a creme brulee. Mmmmmmm, creme brulee.

How many ramiekins? I am guessing about 8, but that is untested.

Caramel-banana Cheesecake Pie

Pie crust for 1 9" pie or 8 ramiekins

2 8-oz pkgs cream cheese, at room temperature
1/2 c sugar
2 large eggs
1 carton Yoplait Whips Dulce de Leche (yes, for real, necessity was the mother of invention here when I opened the sour cream to find it gone, but it turned out great)
1 tsp vanilla
Pinch salt

1 banana, sliced
About 1/2 c brown sugar

Pre-bake pie crust 10 minutes at 400 degrees, or until barely turning golden. Reduce oven to 325.

Beat cream cheese until smooth. Add sugar, eggs, yogurt, vanilla and salt. Beat as smooth as you can. A few small lumps can remain and it's fine. But don't be too shy to crank up that mixer. Fluffy is good in this case.

Pour cream cheese mixture into crust(s) and spread evenly. Bake 25 - 30 minutes for a pie. Probably shorter for ramiekins but like I said, I have not tested that yet. Remove from oven and arrange sliced bananas on top. Cover with a coat of brown sugar, maybe 1/4" thick. Place under low broiler until sugar melts. Watch it closely! (Man, I wish I had a torch. It would be creme brulee every day.)

Chill in the refrigerator a couple of hours before serving. This makes a very flavorful, light, fluffy, creamy cheesecake. And with caramelized bananas 'pontop you really can't lose.

Some good luck on Dia de los Muertos

It's not that often I take a photo I am really really proud of, and even less often I take one I can share broadly.

Today I did. Have I mentioned I have a really cool job?

Hope you have good luck today, too.

President Midas

Wanna hear something funny? It's not about my husband's career. It's about his church calling. That's fair game, isn't it?

He has been the elders' quorum president in our ward for a little more than two years now. For the non-Mormons out there, that means he leads the men in the congregation who are basically under 40 - 45 years old.

There are two other wards in our town. The elders' quorum in each is now headed by one of G's former counselors. So it's kind of like he's training the leaders for the other congregations in town. He also did a home teaching workshop in stake leadership training last month that people are still raving to him about.

He is the EQP with the golden touch. He doesn't want to be proud of this, he knows he shouldn't be, but he kind of is.

I am the wife, so I just get to be proud without feeling too guilty about it. Haha. On to other funny stuff about G.



He was going to be Captain Underpants for Halloween, but we didn't get the flesh-colored unitard in time. Actually we didn't get it at all, and I told him if he just went in his altogether no one would believe he was naked. They would think he was wearing a fur coat. So he was Davy Crockett instead -- lucky for him I went to the Alamo, or he wouldn't have had a costume at all. Note the cell phone. He's a very modern kind of Davy Crockett. Also hot. Woo!

But then when we did our brief TOT'ing after the church party, noooooobody was smiling at Davy Crockett. And we started considering, dressing up as a guy who fights Mexicans is maybe not such a hot idea in our part of the country. Let's think on that.

So next year Captain Underpants may just visit the stake Trunk or Treat party.

(If he goes to a stake party mostly naked, will he get out of his calling? The question remains.)