FASD Awareness Day

Yesterday I had a wicked headache. I spent most of the day covering my head with a pillow and snoozing on the couch. I missed posting about FASD Awareness Day which is on the ninth day of the nine month, Sept. 9th.

On this day back in 1999 some families got together to raise their voices and educate people about the dangers in drinking during the 9 months of pregnancy. It also served to educate the public on children who have been afflicted with FASD and how their lives have been changed simply by their birth mother partaking in alcohol during those precious 9 months in utero. NINE MONTHS. Such a short time in the life of that mother has changed my son's life forever. I sometimes sit and mourn the life he could be living. The life that he would have without alcohol pervading his little body in the womb. The life that he could've had without the brain damage that he has due to those drinks. . .

Then I get angry. I get angry at the selfishness of birth mother's who should know better. I get mad at birth mother's who have access to birth control if they are choosing to drink or suffering from alcoholism. I get angry that I have to see the frustration and the struggles he goes through on a minute by minute basis. I get frustrated that his brain doesn't function in the way most people's do. I get livid that she still doesn't understand she has affeected him for life and created a child who can NEVER be fully functional on an independant level.

Then I get motivated. Motivated to educate every woman of child bearing age that you SHOULD NOT drink one drop of alcohol during those precious months. You should not drink if there is any possiblitiy of conceiving. I want to educate them that you can mess up a life in the same way that drunk drivers destroy a family by killing someone on the road. I want to grab them, shake them and make them understand what this child deals with on a daily basis. I want to educate people in restaurants, the grocery and my child's school that FASD is not a "made-up" disorder or a "fabricated" reason for my child's behaviors. I want them to realize that just because a child looks "normal" they still can have brain damage. I want them o stop looking at me like my parenting has caused this behavior. I want to make FASD a part of everyone's vocabulary.

I want to shout from the rooftops, "Fetal Alcohol Syndrome is the ONLY birth defect that can be 100% preventable!" It is up to all of us! Raise your voice, educate someone today! (even though it is a day late) Heck, educate someone everyday!

Labor Day . . . no kidding . . .

Okay, when I posted Saturday morning I had no idea what crazy things would transpire. I was cleaning my heart out while Robert went to the monthly peace gathering on the courthouse green. I got this twinge that I was forgetting something and decided it was simply because I forgot the time for my grandmother's surprise party next weekend. I decided to finally sit down and call my uncle to find out when it was so I could get that naggy feeling off my mind. When I got ahold of him heres how the conversation went . . .

Me: Barry, I lost the paper I wrote grandma's party info on.
Him: Well, you take a left on Fairfield . . . .
Me: I know where it is. What time is it next Saturday.
Him: It's in 20 minutes.
Me: &^#$@!

What came next was similar to that running in circles you do when you wake up late and start trying to get dressed for work even before you fully wake up. I called the cell phone and found it ringing in my purse. I run out of the house with a neighbor taking me downtown to retrieve Robert and tell him to get home NOW. I jump in the shower since I was nasty from sweating and claening. Robert dresses the kids, jumps in the shower himself. I throw on some makeup and we make it to the party in a half hour. We missed the whole "Surprise!" portion, but made it to the party none-the-less. I am so lucky I didn't just brush it off, my family would've killed me, and it was her 80th birthday, . .

I did come home and finished cleaning and moving furniture. Robert was terribly helpful as well. The kids drove me nuts, okay, McCartney drove me nuts. She has to be in the middle of everything I am doing. When I finally sat her on top of the dresser that was waiting in the doorway for it's new home she was able to see everything going on and she was a little better.

Saturday I moved outside and worked in the yard. I moved the gazebo because we are having a tree cut down that grows like a weed and gets tangled in all the wires and the gutters and everything else. I asked the neighbor for help resetting the gazebo and his wife and I ended up taking about 90% of the tree down ourselves. She is fearless and when she gets an idea in her head, there is no stopping her. We are usually a lethal combination when it comes to projects. We didn't have a chainsaw because I had planned to pay to have it removed, so we took it down with a reciprocating saw and a hand saw. Pretty darn amazing! I will never forget the look on Robert's face when he came to the back door and saw the giant part of the tree coming down. He had no idea what we were doing back there, When done, we looked around and saw the GINORMOUS mess in the yard and in the neighbors yard. ACK! We ended up loading it into their truck and taking it to the compost site. That pretty much did me in for the day.

Monday, the neighbor and I decided to chop up the old metal swingset we got Harrison when he was 2 and put up their big wooden one. The reciprocating saw came out yet again. I love destroying things. I did some more work in the backyard, trimmed some trees in the front and surveyed the gigantic pile of trash for the trashmen tomorrow morning. Mission accomplished.

I love being productive.

Spring . . . Fall Cleaning . . .

Today is a good day to purge. No eating disorder here . . . I am in the mood to CLEAN. My goal for the day is to make the garbage men hate me Monday morning. I aim to clean the upstairs, do some moving around of the furniture and some tossing of the unneeded junk. Sometimes it pays to have OCD . . .

For a comedy break . . . check out my boy .

Dust-a-rooni . . .

Yesterday, a co-worker and I stopped by my house to drop something off while we were running some errands. I called ahead and warned Robert that we would be there shortly and have Dustin watch for us out the front window so we could have some help bringing it inside. We pull up and there is Dustin bright eyed and cheery in the front window, the dogs on each side of him.

I nearly cried. Sometimes I look at that boy and my heart swells with love and pride. Even though sometimes I want to "pull his ears off" (as my mother loves to say) I adore that little bugger. Dustin bounded out of the house, said "Hey mom. I had a good day at school." and helped take the boxes inside. My co-worker who has worked with me for more than 10 years said, "Boy, he sure has come a long way!" That sure is true. . . sometimes it's so hard to see when you are living through the daily turmoil of his disability, and the rages, and the impulsivity, and the stealing, and the hoarding, and, and, and . . . .but he truly has come a long way!

I had a phone call from a woman in my support group from church the other day. She is the grandmother of two children that she and her husband have raised since birth. Both boys have organic brain disorders, one is definitely and FAS kid (Fetal Alcohol Syndrome). She is STRUGGLING! Our conversation reminded me that our world, the one with FAS children, is a fickle and ever changing one. It could be "hell and high water" one day and perfect peace the next. Her rough patch is continuing for some time and she is overwhelmed, tired, feeling like a failure and just ready to give up. She knows her child cannot control most of what she deals with, but that realization doesn't always make it easier when you're going through it. I have SOOOOO been there. She is talking about a residential placement being her only option. I feel for her.

The talk we had made me realize all that I am thankful for. I am blessed to have a good report with our doctor and he listens to what we say. He understands Dustin's brain chemistry as much as is possible and truly takes to heart what we say. He is a God-send. I am thankful that I don't have to fight the insurance companies like others do. We are blessed to receive Medi-caid for Dustin automatically since he is an adopted special needs child and from what I read in the blog-o-hood, Indiana's is far superior to most. I am thankful for a husband who truly takes Dustin's best interest to heart. He is patient and kind, loving and thoughtful when it comes to Dustin. For the most part, because his behaviors can tire anyone out, we are human we lose it occasionally, but we do our best.

I say all this knowing that today he could come home from school and have pulled a a stunt that will have grave consciences (again). He could have a rage and take off running down the street and the authorities will have to be called to "retrieve" him (again) . He could attempt to pull the cat's whiskers out with needle-nose pliers (again), or he could get mad and leave the faucet on in the upstairs bathroom and make it rain in the dining room (again). He could. . . . but maybe he won't. . .

That is life with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome.

Two Years Ago . . .

Lots of great posts out there in the blog-o-sphere marking the second anniversary of Katrina and the whammy it struck on New Orleans. Most of it is fraught with outrage over the continuing disaster down there . . .

I can remember the devastation and being glued to the television, watching the horrible footage of trapped people and hungry children, dying for a drink of water. It broke my heart. Hearing story after story of nursing homes, hospitals, and retirement homes full of people who didn't make it out. I watched not understanding why reporters could be there giving everything they had with them to needy people and not understanding why the government couldn't get the trucks full of aid into the areas that needed it most. I can remember the joy of watching the trucks full of soldiers and supplies parade through the city. The relief, knowing that thousands of people would be rescued, fed and given water, was overwhelming. I vividly remember watching that video at work and crying out of pure relief.

The arguments of why it took so long, was it a racial issue, would more help have come from other countries if we had not burned so many bridges with Iraq, didn't matter to me. What mattered was that people and children and animals were suffering. Our government has treated refugees in Iraq and Afghanistan with more aid than our people received in the short days that followed Katrina.

The following is a video my husband created marking this anniversary. Please share it . . .



I have mentioned that we adopted a hurricane dog on several occasions. Here is a picture that we believe is her chained to her home in New Orleans. And then one of Cayenne now. She is my precious baby-dog and we love her with all our hearts!

The new digs . . .

I promised awhile ago that I'd post some pictures of the new daycare later . . . Later has come. The theme is Kids Town and all the room as made to look like store fronts. . . . enjoy!


Outside Joshua's Demolition . . .


The wrecking ball coming thourgh the wall . . .


Noah's Pet Shop, some of the "windows" will be filled aquariums . . . .


Inside the "Surf Shop" . . . .


Outside of Samson's Gym . . . (our playrooms)


Down one finished a hall . . . .

Pretty cool huh?

Trying not to be too positive . . .

How horrible does that sound? My adoptive son with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome has had pretty darn good first week of school. Bear in mind that he is only able to attend 3 hours a day due to issues we had last year. He has his own 1:1 personal aid and works in a separate classroom for the vast majority of the day. He has however had a pretty good week. He has had no "unhappy faces" on his behavior card. Yeah! I take that with a grain of salt, because you never know what can be around the bend for children like these. I am learning how to be proud of today's accomplishments without having expectations for tomorrow. . . That's difficult for me. Good job Dustin! Keep trying your best.

I have had some realizations lately of exactly how far behind Dustin is compared to other children his age. Our neighbor's step son ran away with his pregnant girlfriend last week. He is 13. Dustin will be 13 never February. Dustin is in seventh grade, and here I am talking about receiving unhappy faces on a behavior card. This child is getting girls pregnant. I am grateful for mental illness sometimes. Does that sound callus?

A Day of Firsts . . .

Today the daycare opened in the new location. It was awesome. I also sent my baby boy to kindergarten today. I put my baby on the bus at daycare and got in the car and drove to the school so that I would be there when he arrived. I was terrified that he would cry when he got on the bus, but he did great. He was terribly excited. I was also afraid I would cry, but I held it together. He had a great day. I was a little nervous as his bus was over minutes late. I knew it was the first day of school, and the buses are usually crazy, so I tried to keep busy and ignore the fact that I had no idea where my boy was. He bounded off the bus and was so happy to see me. That was when I cried. I'm sappy I guess.
This was our conversation on the way home:

Me: What did you have for lunch?
Harrison: Pizza. Guess what color it was.
Me: What color?
Harrison: Gray.
Me; Oh! Was it good?
Harrison:Yes, but it was gray.

I spent the remainder of the ride home having to hear McCartney continually saying, "I want gray pizza!"

Mmmm. School lunches . . .

Saved by the flip flops . . .

Remember at the beginning of the summer when I wrote about my love of Old Navy flip-flops? Today I was saved by those flip flops. Hot pink to be exact.

I was working at the new building and the cook needed some help in the kitchen. I came to her aid and was putting some things away and making some decisions about what would work best where. This kitchen was a professional kitchen. It was an empty shell when we took possession and it has taken some imagination to decide how it could be set up. We bought these large and quite expensive stainless 6 foot tables. These tables are in 2 separate areas of the kitchen. Under each set are double electrical outlets on the floor. We decided to run a surge protector up the table leg and use some industrial velcro on the bottom of the table to plug in appliances such as electric griddles. I collected all the stuff and sat down on the tile floor to plug the surge strip in.

I flipped open the outlet cover and stuck the plug in. It nearly knocked me on my butt. Sparks shot up about 15 inches and it began humming and making horrid smoke. I grabbed the other end of the strip and pulled it out, after saying my first round of choice words in the new church. I shouted for the cook as it was still smoking and sparking and told her to call the director, my mother. I forgot that the kitchen is in the other side of the building from us and the guys pulling wire had yet to get a phone down to the kitchen. My asthmatic self ran to another room quite a way away and intercom-ed mom. "I need you in the kitchen right away. I think it could be on fire." Nice . . .

She runs down, hollers at me to grab and extinguisher. No flames at this point, but much smoke and sparking. Flames begin. I say, "Do I shoot it?" She says, "Shoot it, while on the phone with 911." I shoot it. Then and only then do I realize that it is a K extinguisher and I have just shot water into and electrical outlet. And, I am standing in that very water as well as being covered in water as it sprayed back at me. Needless to say I stopped shooting it and backed out of the kitchen. At this point it was only humming and slightly sparking. Even though I could've been electrocuted, it did put out the flames. . .

The firemen came. Cute too. They thought I was nuts for spraying the fire with water. Then they infomr me that it isn't just water, but ot does have some chemical in it and I probably should go remove my shirt. I was on the phone to my husband, he asked if I was barefoot, which I usually am. The only reason I had my flip flops on was that you have to go through an area that is still construction , and Saturday I stepped on something in there that hurt. Thank God I was a hillbilly on Saturday or else I would've probably been barefoot today. My husband pointed out that I was probably saved by having on my beloved flip flops.

Yeah flip flops. Maybe I should tell that story to Old Navy. I can see it now, they could offer to keep me in flip flops for life . . .

On a side note, the kitchen is fine. Our building committee chairman happens to be an electrician. He came over and unhooked the outlet and safely capped the wires. A new outlet will be installed tomorrow. We did find out that had I discharged the correct kind of extinguisher, the kitchen would have to be shut down for 24 hours, have to be cleaned top to bottom, and be checked by the board of health before it was cleared to use. The cook JUST finished washing everything in the kitchen since the move AND we open tomorrow at 6:00 am. Thank heavens I screwed up! Thank heavens for flip flops.

You have no idea . . .

Wow, this week has been crazy, tiring, amazing and I am quite glad it is just about over. I don't think my body has ever felt like it does right now. We successfully moved the entire daycare this weekend. We started moving the big stuff on Friday morning along with all the items that the teachers had already boxed up. There were about 50 church members that showed up to volunteer their time moving the facility. It went more smoothly than I ever could've imagined! The first load consisted of a semi-truck load, and 2 giant Penske rental trucks FULL. They were loaded from 8:30 to about 10:30 and then we went to the new facility. The trucks were unloaded and placed in their new classrooms and storage areas before lunch at 11:45! AMAZING. The coordinator was so organized. All the areas were color coded, the boxes were labeled with a shape code and a color code and the "putting away" went so very easily. He even tagged the halls with crepe paper to show they way to the color coded areas. (Yes, I said HE. A man is organized?! My world is crumbling) Our staff then were able to simply be in their room putting all the stuff away in it's new home. We had planned to be moving from 8am - 8pm both Saturday and Sunday, but the movers were done by Friday evening about 7:30. I was there with a handful of people until midnight. Yesterday was filled with all the little things and I worked 10 hours. Today holds about 8 hours of work as well, but I feel to thankful for all the help and great relief that it is DONE!

You need to understand that the church that was in he building we are now moving into had many issues over the years. The family that founded the church and ran it for many years as pastors were not exactly honest with their congregation and didn't have the highest moral values. The church split for a second time about 3 years ago now and it has been a struggle in the "religious" (I hate that word) community of our city. The family went on to found another church which then gave them the "boot" recently for the same issues that were evident in the other church. I will not sit and bash this family, or the people who chose to follow this pastoral family and finally saw in the end they were being bamboozled, I will however say they smashed people and their hearts. Many of the congregation that struggled after the split, have wandered over to our church. They have healed and moved on, but this move back into the church-home they knew for so long will be difficult for many of them. Many are happy to see it come full circle. For many, wounds will be opened and the healing will have to begin anew. It does help that the building was in pretty great disrepair so it has been almost completely renovated (since we got it in foreclosure this was possible with funding) so these families will see the shell of the building, but will see new insides. What an allegory for what happened there and in their own hearts . . .

I will say that the people of that particular congregation know how to work. They will pitch in for anything! I must say that has been lacking in my current church for many years. People are content to sit in church and be "ministered to" without putting in a helping hand. Ministries such as our outreach for construction help, community projects etc has come from those from that congregation. Volunteers come out of the woodwork for projects and special gatherings at the church, most of whom are from that former congregation. They have a strong volunteer and work value. I think those from our "original" congregation can learn greatly from them. I pride myself on being what my mother calls a "workhorse" and I will jump in a help in anyway I can. That is sorely lacking in some in our church. Going on a mission's trip, or volunteering once a year for a carnival is fine, but what happens day-to-day in helping the needs of our community needs to be one mission of a seeker-friendly church. That pastoral family which lacked in so many other areas, definitely taught their followers that goal.

I give you all that background to tell you that I discovered a wonderful family yesterday. This family used to be on staff at this former church. They have adopted several teenage boys out of the "system." The boys all seem to have special needs. What a WONDERFUL bunch of boys. I have yet to meet their mother and father, but I know that with a bunch of special needs kids, from the system that act like these boys do they must be fabulous. These boys were polite, kind-hearted, nice, helpful boys. Kudos to their parents! What a ministry.

The day is about to get hectic for me. Hopefully all the jobs will get done. Coffee is calling my name . . .

Colorful in more ways than one . . .

I was sitting in the car while Robert filled up the tank today when I heard him start laughing. He had been looking at a newspaper box and had read a funny headline. The paper was talking about one of the animals at Black Pine Animal Park. I have previously posted about Back Pine which is a sanctuary for unwanted pets, retired circus animals and wild animals that have been rescued for another reason. This article was about Peaches, a Moluccan Cockatoo. Apparently one of the construction workers got too close to the Chimpanzee's inclosure. Coby, one of it's residents, took offense and tossed some poo at the worker. The worker let fly with a few choice words, and Peaches began using her learned vocabulary. . . In other words, she let the blankety-blank fly.

The picture at the beginning of this post is Caesar. Caesar is our Timneh African Grey Parrot. Caesar is a smart bird. Research has shown that African Grey's can have the intelligence of a five year old child. Caesar is definitely a fun bird. He asks questions, immitates noises, and will speak in my voice, Robert's voice and his own "voice". He imitates the keys in the door, the dog's barking and the telephone along with many other things. He loves to laugh. He however will do NONE of this on command. Caesar came to us when he was about 2 years old. Before that, the woman who owned him was afraid of him and handled him with elbow length raptor gloves. She was unable to spend much time with him due to her hectic schedule and being a single mom of a teenager. She was upset that he wasn't talking. Two days after he came to live with us he said, "You think that's funny?" while I was laughing at Robert and he hasn't stopped talking since. And he definitely has an attitude.

Being in a home with a teenager he learned a few choice things. He learned when the phone rings, you shout "Phone!" and he learned the "F" word. He loves to say it when he is mad. If I clean his cage, he drops it on me. If the dog's irritate him he says it. I remember one time I was cleaning up poop he had oh-so-lovingly shot of of his cage onto the floor and I was scolding him and he said, "Oh yeah! F--- you!" Oddly enough, he says it really low, almost under his breath, like he knows it is a bad word. Usually I just ignore it.

Below is Boomer, our Blue and Gold Macaw. He is dumb as a box of rocks. He simply repeats things that have been said to him many times, or with great vigor. He shouts at Dustin to "go to time out", he shouts "Dinner!" and "hello". His favorite words are "shut up". We said that many times to him before we had kids. We tried to teach him to say thank you by always saying "Say thank you Boomer" when we gave him a treat. Now he says, "Say thank you Boomer" not just "Thank you" when he is given something. Duh! We should've thought that one through better.

Both birds are tame and allow us to handle them quite well. I even got so tired of paying the vet to trim their nails and beaks that I bought a dremel tool and do it myself. That is pretty amazing. Caesar doesn't much like to be handled since he wasn't early in his life, but he will tolerate it and he isn't mean. They are a real joy! I'm glad we enjoy them because they will be around a long time. They both will live well over 60 years. . . .

I hate humidity . . .

I cannot stand humidity. It has been so humid lately that it feels like my skin can't even breath. I am horribly asthmatic and these are the days the absolute worst. I guess we have very blessed this summer as the weather hasn't really been too bad. But, this last week has truly taken it's toll on me.

This is my last week of pool trips at work. I am looking forward to being able to come home from work without wet towels to wash every night. I always bring an extra one because either one of our staff members or one of the kids forget their towel. It always get used, which means it needs washed. I know it sounds ridiculous, but the pool is so stressful for me because I am ultimately responsible for 15-20 kids that belong to other people. People who pay me to keep their kids alive. It's nerve wrecking, but the kids enjoy it and I like being outside typically. By this time in the summer, I'm done with swimming, going back to work with wet hair, and washing towels. . .

The inspection went well last week. All is full steam ahead to move the daycare in a week and a half. The things that needed to be fixed are fixed and all is well. The license is steadily moving forward. It is crazy to think about moving 15 room daycare that houses 269 children. The church has come to our aid for the most part, and they have a large moving crew to help. Hopefully all will go well.

I registered my baby boy for kindergarten last Friday, including filling out those crappy green cards in triplicate. I paid his lunch fees, set up busing and then we went to Steak 'n Shake. I was sitting in the booth and was reading the school's handbook. I burst out crying. Then I realized how ridiculous I was being and began laughing hysterically. So now I am laughing, shoulders shaking and tears rolling down my face. Nice. I'm certain I looked like a real basket case. But, WOW, my baby boy is going to kindergarten. He is almost as old as Dustin was when he came to live with us.

A small mention . . .

Kelty grand jury began today. We shall see how this all pans out. A certain liberal activist flashed dear Mr. Kelty his "undershirt" the other day. It happened to be a Henry for Mayor shirt. I hear it was quite amusing, I wish I could've seen Matty's face.

It has been reported in the Journal Gazette that Kelty took out a new loan . . .

The Fort Wayne mayoral candidate who has campaigned about the city being too far in debt has taken out another loan of his own.

Republican nominee Matt Kelty and his wife, Tamilia, took out a $46,000 variable-rate line of credit in June, according to documents from the Allen County recorder. About the same time, the Keltys also closed a $16,000 loan with Tower Bank, leaving the candidate with a potential $30,000 net increase in debt.

Perhaps that money will be used to pay this months $26,000 loan payment to Fred Rost. Who knows. . .

Happy . . . to me.

Yesterday was my birthday. It pretty much passed me by as I worked 13 hours at "real work" and then over at the new building trying to get it ready for our first licensing inspection tomorrow. I kept singing . . . "Happy Birthday to me, I'm working overtime, It stinks to be me, But I'll like my next check!" The new building is hot, humid and stinky. We are in a mad rush to get everything completed by tonight, and I'm not sure it will be done. Contractors suck.

Today is my 10th Year Anniversary. Happy Anniversary honey! I had panned a nice surprise dinner at a swanky place in town. Mom was going to watch the kids and I made reservations. Well, no luck. There is far too much work to do and Robert isn't feeling that well, so we are postponing. "Happy Anniversary to me, I'm working overtime . . . "

I am so thankful that I met and married such a wonderful man. I admire his patience toward the children. His love and devotion toward Dustin. His commitment and love for me. I admire his convictions and his heart for peace. I even love the things that irritate me, his penchant getting lost in projects and his constant "It will all work out" speech.

I love you, Robert. You are my rock, a wonderful father, my encourager and the love of my life!

Crazy week . . .

It's been one crazy week. We are trying to get things done for the big move at work. I have been working my tail off, but that's okay because I sure could use the overtime on my paycheck. I am getting really excited about my new office and all the new spaces we will have in the new facility. We are going to have the most fabulous daycare in the city. The certificate of occupancy was granted today, so we can now begin to move things into the space. Our licensing inspection will happen next week, so it is gonna be quite a week as well. We are enrolling kids left and right, and all is well at this point. The weekend of the move will include as much paid overtime as one could possibly want, I am lookng forward to it . . .

The weather is making me crazy! I hate humidity and I can hardly breath due to my asthma. But, I am thankful for the rain. I have loved thunderstorms ever since I was a little girl and I would sit on Grandma's porch and watch the storms. I can remember sitting on her old metal glider and watching the lightning, probably not real safe, but memories nonetheless . . .

Robert is participating in the Blog-a-thon this weekend, so I need to get the kids out of the house this Saturday. I think a trip to It's Playtime or Burger King playground may be in order . . . we shall see.

Foster Care . . .

There are so many things wrong with the foster care system. Some of it is the case workers and more of it seems to be foster parents. My husband and I gave up our license several years ago when a perpetrator was put in our home and he molested a child in my home. This case worker knew this could be a possibility and never told us. I hate the system.

Last night one of our kids came by. He is now 16. He and his sister were put into an aunt's home from ours and I wrote about seeing him in Wal-Mart not too long ago. He looked great, was happy and seemed to be doing nicely. When he showed up on our porch, he didn't look so great. He said he was "going to find a place". He said he and his sister were no longer in the system and he needed a place to live. I asked if he was with his parents and he said no. I don;t understand how he is "out of the system" and I have no idea what in the world he is doing looking for a place to live at 16 with no driver's license and no job. It made me sad. He said he had walked many miles to get over in our area because he knew there was an apartment complex nearby that his uncle told him was inexpensive.

We have been really struggling with Dustin and his eating issues lately. He had always hoarded food, sometimes much more than others, but now he is hoarding dishes and other random things from the kitchen. I think it is partially his PTSD, going without food, or multiple placements, but he also has lower pain tolerance due to FASD and has no sense of feeling "full" so he eats and eats and eats. I struggle with it immensely I think because it was sin in my home to waste food. I know I have to just deal with it and stop trying to reason it out of him, but it is terribly hard. Claudia posted about it today here.

Then, I go about reading some regular reads and find an extremely troubling remark over at Kari's blog. This was the remark . . . "But really, I don't know how you do it. I would have disrupted on both of these kids, long ago. You have my admiration and sympathies." HOW VERY WRONG.

I wrote a rant about DISRUPTION not that long ago. I wrote that "I chose to adopt this child, I knew what it meant for our future and his. Do I have surprises daily? Yes. Do I regret? Never! I know institutionalization may come in the future, I will still be his parent. I will not disrupt the adoption . . .EVER . . .do you hear me?!" And then . . . "I don't feel like a very good parent daily. I don't experience success very often. I get frustrated by behaviors and expectations. I get angry and I lash out when I shouldn't. I struggle constantly, but . . . I would never choose to "return" Dustin. I feel weird even saying that. I envision someone saying, "Well, it is past the 90 day return policy, but you do have your receipt so I will have to give you store credit Do you have to box and the packing materials?" That post was entitled SICKENING and it still turns my stomach when people even remotely discuss this "option". I held my tongue the best I could, which probably wasn't very well. . .

Lakeside Park . . .

Over at our Family Site I posted some pictures of the last 2 days at Lakeside Park. It has been so mild that we have gone to the park 2 nights in a row. Tonight, I took these pictures of the park and I think they are pretty nifty . . .

So hot it'd burn the hair off a pig's back . . .

Wow it's hot today! Yesterday I spent the day at mom's house with my neighbor and her kids. All my nieces and nephews were there as well. Altogether there were 12 kids. Whew! They were really well behaved though. My mom has a hot tub we use as a pool for the kids in the summer and she has a really cool waterslide. This is actually the 3rd incarnation. The first one got holes in it really easily. The second one was small and was a joke. This one is by far the best and I think it will last. The kids sure do love it!

My mom stocks up on popsicles, fudge bars and ice cream sandwiches and fills the kids full of sugar and then sends them home tired and happy. What a great grandma!

Last week I got a serious haircut. I have been growing my hair out for about 2 years and I realized all I do is pull it back and it looks like doo-doo. So, I let my step-sister cut it off. I love it, I don't know what I was thinking . . .

That was then . . . this is now . . .

Fun for years at the Fort Wayne Children's Zoo. . .


August 1972, Sheri rides "Little Poof".


June 2007 McCartney rides "Little Poof".


August 1972, Sheri makes friends with a goat in the "farmyard" of the zoo.


May, 2004 McCartney doesn't know what to think.


June 2007, McCartney brushes a new friend in the "farmyard".


May 2004, McCartney fits in the palm of his hand.


June 2007, McCartney with an old friend!

Ahhhh Memories . . .

A lost friend. . .

Today I found an old friend. The friend? Black Pine Animal Park in Albion, Indiana. I found Black Pine years ago and visited frequently. At the time it was located in the backyard of Karen and Brad Bonar. The animal sanctuary started as Brad and Karen began to take in animals that people thought they could keep as pets. Animals such as mountain lions, bobcats, snow leopards, caracals, and rhesus-macaque monkeys. The park grew as Barnum and Bailey Circus began contacting the Bonar's about taking in retiring circus animals. They adopted the tigers who originally did that stunt with the spinning round cages. They have Mr. Bear and Isaac who are retired black bear performers. They have Johnny a camel who is and retired performers. My favorite is Tarzan and Coby who are adult chimps. They have been in commercials and music videos.

The park has grown over the years of my absence. The tiger population has grown as they recently adopted 3 part Siberian tigers who were rescued from horrid conditions. They have also acquired some leopards, including a black one. There are also losses. Cesar a retired performing tiger, and the father to Cita and Jai, was buried at the former location. Pinky, one of Karen's Cougars, also passed. Recently they also lost Shengi, a female African lion. Today, Nala, still seemed to be in mourning, and the keepers said she is definitely missing her companion. Lucky, a dwarf bull was another favorite from the "old days" who is no longer with us.


The "petting" portion of the park includes many field animals including Emus, Llamas, Rheas, Ostrich, Sicilian donkeys, a mini-dwarf pony named Minnie, Pygmy goats, Welsh mountain sheep, and a pot bellied pig. The Llama's are so very sweet and the donkey's are beautiful. The kids loved feeding them today. If you make the trip to Albion, you can bring your own bread and feed the field animals. Watch out for Ginger, the ostrich, she;s a handful!

The best thing about Black Pine for families is how close you can get to the animals. I can remember about 6 years ago I was teaching Pre-K and I took all 4 classes. It was the summer that Cita and Jai, some tiger cubs, were born and they were very small. Karen let us pet the cubs and allowed the kids to play with them in the field. She used to also get the camels out and we could feed them "cookies". Today, the park is probably a little more stringent with there "no touch" policy than they used to be in Karen's backyard. But it is still well worth the trip. They relocated last December and are still in the process of building permanent outdoor habitats for all the animals. So, pardon their dust. Invest some time and some money at a local sanctuary, you will be amazed how cool it is!

Parenting hard kids is hard . . .

Parenting in general is difficult. I have to say that working in a daycare for 13 years before I had children, I thought I had it all figured out. I couldn't fathom how parents could be constantly running late for work. How could they forget show and share day? How could they forget it was a party day and come in late? Why did they carry the 4 year old down the hall? Etc. I knew that I would be a great parent and have it all figured out when I had my own because I had oh so much experience at daycare. WRONG.

I forget stuff for projects, I would rather carry the kid than drag him. I am always running late. I take back everything I ever said about any parent. Parenting is hard. You're "on" 24/7. I am by no means making light of "normal" parenting, but parenting "hard" kids is much harder. My children are difficult. I know that all kids have their very own issues. But, throw a children who has brain damage due to pre-natal alcohol exposure into the mix and you have a recipe for DIFFICULTY.

My children are better for having Dustin in their lives in many ways. They are much more tolerant of behaviors of their peers and they are probably far more compassionate than they could've been. They are also much more independent due to the many "melt-downs" and extra attention that Dustin requires. They have other issues that go along with that. They are incessantly annoying, probably because they have to fight for attention some of the time. McCartney is terribly strong willed and stubborn. She knows how to push buttons and then works it for all it is worth. She is in some ways more trying than Dustin. I will never know if this is a product of nature or our environment.

Parenting kids such as these is difficult. Not only does it do a toll on you as a person and a parent, but also on your marriage. It is a huge responsibility as a parent to take these issues and make them a part of your daily routine. It makes you grumpy and irritable. It makes you much more likely to snap at your spouse. They are the one person who is your ally in all of this, and the one you take it out on the most. It's unfortunate.

Like any marriage, Robert and I have different ways of dealing with the stress. Neither of us can understand the scope of what our words and actions have on one another. Robert retreats into a project and I keep on advancing. Mars and Venus. I push and push, like the stereotypical woman, and irritate and irritate. He is a true trooper. I can't imagine the stress that he has on him dealing with Dustin 24 hours a day. I have a break when I go to work, he doesn't. I couldn't do what he does. I suppose that is the mark of a truly great relationship, he is weak where I am strong and vice versa. Unfortunately right now I don't feel so strong.

We came to the realization last winter when we were dealing with so much difficulty with Dustin that only one parent can check out at a time. It's tough when there is a constant stressor in the home, especially one you love so dearly. One you wish you could fix and can't. I love my husband with all my heart and thank him for walking this journey with me. . . even with all my faults.

Wedding . . .

I went to a crazy kind of wedding today. McCartney and I hitched a ride up north with my mom and step-dad. The groom was Amish. Apparently they aren't too strict Amish because he has definitely turned "English" and the family hasn't shunned him. I have never seen so many Amish in one place in my life. It was beautiful and a wonderful girl and friend of the family is now a Mrs.

They grow up so fast . . .

Yesterday I got kindergarten shots for Harrison. I can hardly believe that he will go to school in the fall. I never thought he would grow so big so fast. About 4 months ago, when he was still 4, he brought me a book and began reading. I mean reading. For about a year and a half he has been sounding out letters and putting together blends. He knows about silent e and how it makes the vowel long. He can tell you about rhyming words and opposites. He even knows what punctuation is. He has been reading random words for a while, but he brought me book and READ it. I was amazed!

I have had an issue with the daycare moving farther from my home. Due to that fact, our neighborhood school does not transport to the daycare. I finally was able to opt him into a school in that area and we are all set. It has been a huge stressor and now it is all done. I am so thankful that I got him into a school closer to the daycare and transportation will be taken care of. But, the fact remains, my baby boy is going to school. . .

Titanic Fun . . .

Boat loads of fun . . . a yet, a little morbid. . .

Today at the daycare we rented a large Titanic Slide. It was so fun! The kids loved every minute of it. It still is a little creepy to be sliding down the sinking deck of the Titanic though. Kinda disrespectful to those who loss their lives on the ship, but tons of fun!

Here's a pic of McCartney on the slide. . . more to come later.

My mom's new toy . . .

My mom is the best Nanny in the world. Check out what she and PaPa bought for the grandkids. . .


McCartney goes up . . .


Harrison goes for a ride . . .


McCartney's nice form . . .


Dustin says, "Whoa!" . . .

My adventure with the ignorant . . .

We decided to take the kids to the Pizza Hut buffet tonight. Dustin loves it. The little ones can graze all they want. I however, had a run-in with a drunk. . . at least I hope he was.

I'm accompanying Dustin to the buffet and I asked him not to grab a plate. The stacks were all hot and I knew he would immediately drop it on the floor or start hollering. He went to grab a plate anyway and I said, "Dustin, I asked you not to touch those." A man across the buffet says quite loudly, "Damn lady! Let the kid get his own plate. I taught my kid how to do it when he was little. Damn!" I was shocked and responded with, "Sir, my son is special needs." He grumbled and moaned at me the entire time we were getting Dustin's food. As we walked back to our table I was still a little shaken. We sit, I look over and he is sitting on table over and one back.

Dustin was pretty well behaved and the little ones were darn good. It was actually a nice time. Towards the end of the meal, the man tries to get my attention and I pretend not to see him. He stands up, grabs something off the table and comes over to our table. He extends his hand and shakes me hand apologizing for what he said. I told him it was fine and that I understood that Dustin's disability is hidden. He proceeds to throw money at me. I told him he was being ridiculous and he very loudly begged me to take it to show me that he was "Sorry deep down in his heart". The entire time he is getting louder and louder and continued to lean over the table, beating on his chest over his heart. I'm thinking, "Oh mercy! Robert get back here now!" He finally leaves. Not without getting into a little screaming patch with his wife saying, "I can't leave the tip, I just gave that lady my last 4 dollars. Damn woman."

After all this, Dustin is like, "Mom give me my money. It's mine. He gave it to you because I'm special needs!" I could've climbed under the table. I'm totally embarrassed. I want to leave. Robert comes back and has no clue what has just passed. Finally when we leave it says, honey you are leaving money on the table. Usually we just put the tip on the debit card with the bill. Dustin once again starts hollering, "It's mine because I'm special needs." For crying out loud.

Last Friday night the kid across the street was home with some friends. He is about 12 or 13 and lives with his sister and her boyfriend. He starts yelling out the window at us playing in the front yard. He is calling Dustin a "retard". Dustin was instantly upset and began crying which made the kid holler other ugly and hateful things. I lost it. I was so angry. I threatened to haul my "fat ass" as he called it, up those stairs and he could call me names to my face. He stopped. Funny part is, he rides the "short bus" to another school.

I hope this in not an indication of things we will have to deal with as the gap between Dustin's actual age and his developmental age grows farther and farther apart. I know it is, but I hate it for him.

Manic Monday . . .

After a fabulously lazy weekend I had a day off today. I decided to run a few errands since my crazy summer at work begins Thursday when the kids get out of school. A few errands turned into about 7 including a visit to the veterinarian for Max, the toy fox terrier mix. He's a pain. I swear he has little dog complex, similar to short man complex. Today, I think he lost half of his fur due to excessive shedding from being nervous. It looked like it was snowing in the office there was so much fur flying around. I had the doc get the vet tech because I refuse to hold down my own dog. He bit her and they had to muzzle him. Nice. I love feeling like a failure as a pet parent too. Although the best part is that now he is traumatized and he is nice a quiet tonight.

The other big thing I accomplished today was getting a money order cashed. No big deal you say? Well, my bird ate 4 of the routing numbers off the check. I took it to the bank and they said they couldn't cash it. So I took it back to the check cashing place that issued it to my renter. They couldn't cash it and gave me a claim form to fill out. It would take 65 days to get my money AND I had to have the receipt. I don't have the receipt and neither did my renter. I spent 40 minutes on hold with the company and they told me it could take 90 days if I did not have the receipt. Finally I got them to give me the routing number and with a little prodding of the bank, and talking to the "higher-ups" they said they would cash it. That could've been an expensive snack for the parrot. . .

By the way, thanks to AWB, or as I now call him Angry White Gramps. He offered AND delivered a full size basketball hoop to our house this weekend for my son. His son obviously discovered girls and cars as he grew older and abandoned the hoop. It was nice of him to think of us and offer it for Harrison. I knew you had a soft heart somewhere in there. *wink* By the way, my dog ran right over and peed on it, he must read your blog too. LOL

The year end IEP . . .

Individualized Educational Plans, for those of you with "gen-ed" kids, are the plans that the school must follow for children with disabilities. The IEP tells what the disabilities are, strengths and weaknesses, goals and treatment interventions, speech and occupational therapy goals, graduation track etc. Dustin's includes a BIP, behavioral intervention plan, and a FBA, functional behavioral analysis. Each of those need to be reviewed every 20 school days. IEP's need only reviewed every year or when changes need to made to add or remove programs, goals or interventions either at the request of the school or parent. In that case you must call a CCC, case conference committee, and call everyone needed together to make changes. They must prvide you with PS, procedural safegaurds, prior to the meeting. Today we rejected ESY, extended school year, to give Dustin a much needed break for the summer. I met today with Dustin TOR, teacher of record, his PP, paraprofessional, and the area SERT, special education resource teacher. In our case FAS, fetal alcohol syndrome, has become alphabet soup.

As I sat in the CCC today, I realized that I had no idea 6 years ago what I was in for I have learned so much about mental health issues, school policies and regulations and all the crazy abbreviations for everything. I have come along way and so has Dustin.

Today was Dustin's yearly review and for the first time in a long time I wasn't sick to my stomach with the prospect of a new IEP. The modified schedule that we have been on since April 9th has been a tremendous success! He is a totally different child at school. He is the child I told them that he could be. It was wonderful to hear all the positive comments and hear how he has progressed nicely since the schedule change. I thought however, it would only take about an hour and I was there nearly 3 hours. . . in a non-airconditioned, windowless room. Ugh! But everything is set for next year, and things are looking up. His two hours daily will be increased to 3 hours. The state rarely goes for modified schedules at the beginning of the school year, but the CCC thought that we had enough documentation to provide reasons why it should be allowed. He has, after all, been deemed a "danger" to others and the modified day has been so definitely positive I don't think they could deny it. He also has medical reasons as his chlozapine makes him sleep so well and so long that school prior to 10 am would be totally ineffective and difficult anyway.

I also found out today that his fabulous PP, paraprofessional, postponed a trip to Japan to take the job to work with Dustin. She enjoys him and keeps him well in line. I am so thankful for professionals that love what they do and have my child's best interest at heart. I had a tiny bit of an anxiety attack when I learned that another teacher in his 3 teacher group will be his TOR, teacher of record, next year. The teacher of record is responsible for all contact to the family and all paperwork needed for the Special Education Department and the homeroom teacher for the child. She is the primary person I deal with . . . sometimes daily. I panicked because we have been through so much this year, and formed a great relationship. I don't have anything against this other teacher, but I know Dustin would have a difficult time transitioning to her for his homeroom as well. At the end of the meeting the SERT, special education resource teacher, from the main department asked if his current teacher would consider keeping him and being his TOR next year. I followed that with, "Maybe you should've asked her when I left, maybe she is happy to be rid of Dustin and us as well." She said the nicest things, basically saying that we were the kind of parents she loved to work with and that she hoped she had never given us that feeling, and that she knows Dustin has potential. I can rest easily, she will be his TOR next year.

All in all a very positive day! Miracles never cease.

Freimann Family Thursday . . .

We went to the Freimann Family Thursday event last evening in Downtown. It was a fun time in the heat, and a bonus for us, we could walk and not use any gas! The crowds were not crazy and they had some fun things to do for the kids. The band The Yellowhammers were great, the singer sounded like across between Elvis Costello and my hubby. Here are some shots of the sweaty kids . . .


Having fun in the park . . .


Climbing the sculpture . . .


Busy being rotten . . .


Man, it was hot . . .


They actually look like they love each other . . .

Ouchy . . .

I have a wicked headache today. I woke up with it. Good morning, here have a horrible day. I hate that. I have been plagued with migraines since I was about 8 years old. I can remember going through brain scans, CT scans, tonislectomy, allergy testing and opthalmolgist appointments as a young child, trying to get to the bottom of the headaches. I recall having a bottle of Excedrin with my name on it in the principal's desk drawer that I would use almost daily. I would go down to the office, take 2 excedrin and lay in the nurse's office for an hour or so. It typically didn't go away and they would call my mom.

I struggled all through high school and college with headaches trying all different kinds of medications. Back then, the meds either made you terribly "high" or so tired you couldn't function. I hated them. One time I can rememebr trying a new medication from my doctor and "flipping out" at my best friend's house because I felt like my arms were no longer attached to my body. My friend "Toad" sat with me all night while I freaked out. (I never really did any drugs to speak of, so this was not a welcomed experience! They thought this was nice and funny and wanted to try one! LOL)

I lived with migraines. I had about 4-5 a week. Most of them included vomiting. I hated them, but learned to live with them. Three summers ago I returned to a doctor who I had to leave for insurance reasons. She asked about my headaches. I told her they were still bad. She put me on a blood pressure medication, even though my blood pressure is super, and they stopped. I mean stopped. I have only had about 10 migraines in the past 3 years. That is amazing! It has changed my life. In addition, the medication only costs me $2 a month . . . NICE. The only bad part is that now when I get a headache it's horrible because I am not used to them. That would be TODAY.

My children have also been plagued with migraines. When Harrison was about 17 months he began vomiting and saying his head had an "ouchy". Sometimes he said they were a "mommy ouchy" or a "daddy ouchy" this would tell us how severe they were. After talking to our pediatrician about it he sent us to a nerologist. He was on medication for about a year to help stop the headaches. Once I learned what his triggers were; bananas, yogurt, certain cheeses, and heat, we stopped the medication and he isdoing quite well. McCartney also became plagued with headaches about 19 months. She would vomit as well. Thankfully, her triggers are the same as Harrison's.

Oh my gawd . . . .

I just had a supervisor come into the office at work laughing hysterically. She had come around the corner and almost ran into a dad who was picking up his son at the daycare. The son was dawdling and the dad turned around and said in a hushed yet angried voice, "Will you hurry up I have to shit!" When he turned around, there was the supervisor.

Talk about being in the wrond place at the wrong time. That poor dad. He was probably mortified. The funny thing is that it was a pastor's wife who repeated it to me! I am still laughing!

Mothers Day . . .

I am perpetually late. I posted an Easter post late and I seem to remember that I posted a late Father's Day post last year. Today I decided after reading some regular reads that I have it good in the Mother Department.

I have a fabulous mother. She is a strong woman of God and a fabulous role-model for me and my daughter. We have not always seen eye-to-eye, but what mother and daughter combo has. When growing up I was far more like my father than my mother. I was actually probably much much more like my maternal grandmother than anyone else. My grandma was ornery, opinionated and could be abrasive. I have never had much tact and I always speak my mind. My mother and I were close yet, not in the best-friend sort of way. She was my mother, I respected her, and I revered her. I saw her go through tough times and lean on her faith for support. I saw her weather infidelity on my father's part and I didn't understand her forgiveness. I saw her stand by him when the cancer ate away at his body. I saw her stand strong when the Lord finally took him home providing my brother and I with support and encouraging words, yet not be afraid to cry in front of us and with us.

I saw her happiness as she walked down the isle with my step-father. I rejoiced that she had once again found love. She couldn't have found a better man to share the rest of her life with. And I love him as if he was my own father because he treats my brother and I as though we are his own children.

I will never forget the gleam in her eye when my children were born. I have the image of her holding my newborn children in her arms in the hospital burned into my brain. I will always cherish the loving look she gives my children daily as they run into her office to give their Nannie a hug and a kiss. She spoils my children terribly and I love her for it. Our relationship has definitely changed and grown over the years after I had my own children. She has become a much larger part of my life and I respect her now more than I ever have before.

I irritate her and she irritates me. We spend far too much time together. We work together and I end up speaking to her on the phone at least once a night, sometimes more. We share our lives. I feel as though I can share anything with her and she will respect me for what I say and will offer the best advice I could ask for. Do I always listen? Nope. Sometimes I'm right, sometimes she is. I love our relationship. I love my mother with all my heart and I wouldn't have her any other way. She is my best friend and I would love to be just like her as I "grow up".

Eeeewww . . .

I have this aversion that I think I have blogged about before . . . it's to bumpy things. Bumpy things? You ask. Yes, bumpy things. I hate those warty gourds that they sell around Halloween. I hate the little barnacles that collect on the sea walls in Florida. I hate the little bumpy spores on the back of some greenery that comes in a bouquet of flowers. It creeps me out just writing about it. I get all shivery and itchy. It makes my skin crawl. My son has similar issues. When he was a baby he used to gag when he looked at his prune-y hands after being in the bathtub too long. Weird huh?

That being said I also have issues with bugs. They gross me out and give me the same reaction. I don't freak out when I see one. I'm not that crazy person who runs screaming from a spider, but I certainly don't want to look at one. The big pull out drawers at the zoo with the giant bugs . . . .NASTY. I once had a child at the daycare say, "Miss Sheri, there is something in my hair" It was the biggest tick I have ever seen! It had to have been there for days. I threw up. Great teacher huh?

I have been listening to much more country music lately. I have been a little bit of a fan for some time, and then my trip into Kenny-Land last summer with LJ sealed the deal. Much to the dismay of my husband, the kids and I listen to a country station while we are in the car and I have some selected tunes loaded into the I-Pod. I am by no means a connoisseur, but I have my preferences. I heard a Brad Paisley song the other day that gave me the creeps (hence the talk about my aversions) . . . " I'd like to walk you through a field of wildflowers
and I'd like to check you for ticks"

Gross.

Emergency haircut . . . .

It's s nice to have a fabulous beautician in the family. When you call your sister-in-law at 10:15 at night crying because you daughter just chopped her hair off, she meets you at the salon first thing in the morning, on her day off to fix it. And it comes out adorable . . . . that's Nanny n the chair with McCartney. She refused to sit in the chair alone.



The damage . . .


Aunt Kari is AWESOME . . .


My cute little peanut . . .

Anxiety . . .

I have OCD. I self-medicated myself and took 2 pills today. I probably won't make a bit of difference for real, but it helps me cope. Dustin has a med review today and we have been counting down the days. He is exteremely impulsive and been a true pain in the arse lately. I want medication changed, but I fear the unknown.

We usually know when the meds aren't working other than simply behavior issues because he is in what I call "internal turmoil". He can't make up his mind. Here's how it goes :

He will ask for a pop-tart.
We say, "of course. Go make one"
He will scream "I don't want a stupid pop-tart."
We reply, "Okay, you don't have to eat one if you don't want."
He jumps up and down, screaming "BUT I WANT A POP-TART! You are starving me, you want me to die!"

I am certain that the neighbors think we are crazy. They certainly get tired of hearing him holler and curse and throw things. Lately he has been running from the house hollering, "I don't want to live here, you hate me!" I end up running down the street chasing him. Nice. Oddly enough Robert and I have been totally and completely calm throughout these rages lately. We know he is not doing them to be bratty. He has no concept of what is going on in his body. The next minute he can be calm and loving and totally forget all the trauma he just caused in the house and the nieghborhood. It's not easy. It's frustrating and makes me angry.

I've said it before and I will continue to say it . . . His mother was selfish. Drinking during pregnancy has ruined my son's life. I believe she took the life he could've had from him just as if she had aborted him. This is not the life he was meant to live, but I will make sure he is healthy, safe and as happy as I can make him! I love you Dustin!

The Mart of Walls Experience . . .

Typically we have horrid shopping experiences with my three kids. It is a rare day that they are all well-behaved and nothing gets knocked over, broken or blown up wherever we choose to shop. Yesterday was an exception . . .

I decided that after work I would pick up Robert and the kids and head on over to your friendly neighborhood Mart of Walls to do some grocery shopping. I know, I know tell me all about the evils of the large corporate giant. . . all I know is that I am poor and a fairly loyal shopper much to my husband's dismay. Usually it is a struggle even getting them into carts for the journey through the hallowed halls, but I told Harrison he could take his Gameboy in if he rode in the bucket of the cart. (He has an old gameboy advanced with 3 games that was given to us) McCartney was too tired to walk since having her surgery and Dustin was in turn happy that the other 2 were confined. First battle won by the parents.

We huried inside since we had already won a battle, when McCartney saw a large "frozen" blow up advertisement. She wanted one. Typically I won't buy something like that while shopping, but I figured why not since we are pushing fluids and I am certain the frozen treat would feel good on her throat. So I bought one for all the kids and Robert. This allowed them to focus on their drinks and not annoying us at every turn. Second battle won by the parents.

We got through the store without much trauma. Dustin was even fairly well behaved and I didn't spend half a fortune on groceries even considering that I was starving and everyone knows not to shop when hungry! I patted myslef on the back forthinking about the Gameboy and thought I would have to use it everytime we shopped. We paid for the items without the usual screaming at the registers for a treat since they already had one at the beginning, and we loaded the van without incident. Third battle won by the parents.

I chose to sit in the middle seat of the can with McCartney since I wanted this pleasant trip to remain that way and not let Dsutin irritate her all the way home thus bringing the screaming and crying that usually accompanies our car trips. We got about half way home and Harrison says, "I don't feel so well. I think I'm gonna puke" With that warning I grabbed the closest bag I could find and he bagan to wretch into a grocery bag tarnishing my apple juice and tomato juice purchase. Good news? Not very much went elsewhere. Last battle won by Gameboy car sickness.

Oh well, it was pleasant til the end.