Thursday morning, as I walked to the van, the snow crunched under my feet and the moon was bright. I suddenly flashed back to high school, walking to the barn in the winter. I absolutely hated getting up early in the morning, swore at that time that I'd never, ever end up getting up that early and here I am doing it. Despite the fact that I long for my warm bed, waking up slowly and lazily, I love those crisp, cold mornings.
I can't explain it, but there is a calm and peace in the air that is unlike no other time of the day. In my mind, I could hear the whir of the barn fan, and the clunk of the calves' milk bottles after I fed them. Now I hear the fan of the car heater the crunch of snow as I pull out of the driveway.
Some things do change, there are no cows to feed or milk. My dad would probably be surprised to hear that on such mornings, I do think back to those times and can honestly say I miss them. Well, not quite miss them like I want to do them again, but they are good memories.
My mornings now are filled with those few residents who are early risers asking me "Are you my nurse today?" And being disappointed if I'm not. It still surprises me that I mean that much to my residents, because with 24 of them, divided by eight hours, that means they get a total of 20 minutes max of my time, most of which is not face to face. Somehow I have become someone meaningful in their life.
To have those peaceful snowy mornings first, and then be greeted this way is really just the icing on the cake.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Monday, December 08, 2008
Goodbye, Radish
Now that we are foster kid free, and I've sorta cleaned the spare bedroom, added all the junk that spare bedrooms should have, I'm nostaligic and thinking about all the kiddos we've cared for over the years.
Dear Courtney, Coleen, Ashley, Gavin, Nick, Deavon, Derek, Scott, Rich, Dillon, David, Kyle, Verle, Paul, Andrew, and the 1/2 dozen or so respite kiddos....I truly wish you all of life's happiness, and I hope that you are able to find the best in life that God has planned for you. Yes, even the big D.
Seven years ago, we were broke and I was wondering if our home would ever know the pitter patter of little feet. Today, I look around at the scarred furniture, floors, walls, doors, and can say, yes, we've had THE parenting experience. There's the dent in the living room wall from where the Big D used to slam his feet up against doing hand stands. The damaged doors, the grape jelly stains, and the giant holes all tell stories, not unlike the holes I see in my Dad's house.
The ceiling at home bears wounds from where my brother, age 12 or so, said "Hey I bet I can touch my elbow to the ceiling", but his head hit first. Or the ragged carpet that the cats kept scratching at, the burn mark from my tea candles (damn, was I lucky I didn't burn the house down!), and the little dings that kids leave on a house that says it's lived in.
My house now bears those marks. They made me mad at the time, but as I repair them I hope I can say "thank you Lord".
Dear Courtney, Coleen, Ashley, Gavin, Nick, Deavon, Derek, Scott, Rich, Dillon, David, Kyle, Verle, Paul, Andrew, and the 1/2 dozen or so respite kiddos....I truly wish you all of life's happiness, and I hope that you are able to find the best in life that God has planned for you. Yes, even the big D.
Seven years ago, we were broke and I was wondering if our home would ever know the pitter patter of little feet. Today, I look around at the scarred furniture, floors, walls, doors, and can say, yes, we've had THE parenting experience. There's the dent in the living room wall from where the Big D used to slam his feet up against doing hand stands. The damaged doors, the grape jelly stains, and the giant holes all tell stories, not unlike the holes I see in my Dad's house.
The ceiling at home bears wounds from where my brother, age 12 or so, said "Hey I bet I can touch my elbow to the ceiling", but his head hit first. Or the ragged carpet that the cats kept scratching at, the burn mark from my tea candles (damn, was I lucky I didn't burn the house down!), and the little dings that kids leave on a house that says it's lived in.
My house now bears those marks. They made me mad at the time, but as I repair them I hope I can say "thank you Lord".
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Dear Social Worker (revisited)
I decided to do a little research, and here are a few things I've discovered.
"A social worker is a helping professional who is distinguished from other human service professionals by a focus on both the individual and his or her environment."
This implies a working understanding of the actual environment of the people intended to be helped. In this case, you're supposed to be focused on my children, and their environment.
"Social workers comprise a profession that had its beginnings in 1889 when Jane Addams founded Hull House and the American settlement house movement in Chicago's West Side. The ethics and values that informed her work became the basis for the social work profession. They include respect for the dignity of human beings, especially those who are vulnerable, an understanding that people are influenced by their environment, and a desire to work for social change that rectifies gross or unjust differences.
The social work profession is broader than most disciplines with regard to the range and types of problems addressed, the settings in which the work takes place, the levels of practice, interventions used, and populations served. It has been observed that social work is defined in its own place in the larger social environment, continuously evolving to respond to and address a changing world. Although several definitions of social work have been provided throughout its history, common to all definitions is the focus on both the individual and the environment, distinguishing it from other helping professions."
I have seen little evidence of evolution among you, and hate to paint with a broad brush, but the lack of knowledge about the children you serve, the lack of knowledge of the larger social environment you serve, and the lack of response of any kind makes you well, lazy and useless. Are you aware of your complete ineptness? Should I mention the lying on oh, virtually every "update", every piece of paperwork sent to us?
"practice of social work requires knowledge of human development and behavior, of social, economic and cultural institutions, and of the interaction of all these factors."
Again, I fall to see where you have ever attempted to display knowledge of human development or behavior. The eveidence of this I have seen has concentrated on the norms, however you are not dealing with the norms, you are dealing with abnormal behaviors and this requires knowledge and interventions on behalf of those. You just dumped this last radish on us and walked away. Name one thing, just one thing you did to help. Every single thing that was done for him was initiated by us.
"The social work profession promotes social change, problem solving in human relationships and the empowerment and liberation of people to enhance well-being. Utilising theories of human behaviour and social systems, social work intervenes at the points where people interact with their environments. Principles of human rights and social justice are fundamental to social work.
A professional skilled in talking with patients and their family members about emotional and/or physical needs; an excellent resource for support."
At this point, all I can do is laugh. You've failed on all of these accounts. Who do you think you've provided emotional support to? The children? Us? Nope, miserable failiures. Those few times you showed up to my home and asked what I needed and I gave you specifics? Yeah, that's the part where you're supposed to help. Even the smallest evidence of therapeutic communication would have helped. Nope, we got nothing. You didn't even need to use skills, we specifically told you what we needed you to do--we couldn't access those services without you. And you ignored us.
So screw you, piss off.
Dang, that felt good to get off my chest.
"A social worker is a helping professional who is distinguished from other human service professionals by a focus on both the individual and his or her environment."
This implies a working understanding of the actual environment of the people intended to be helped. In this case, you're supposed to be focused on my children, and their environment.
"Social workers comprise a profession that had its beginnings in 1889 when Jane Addams founded Hull House and the American settlement house movement in Chicago's West Side. The ethics and values that informed her work became the basis for the social work profession. They include respect for the dignity of human beings, especially those who are vulnerable, an understanding that people are influenced by their environment, and a desire to work for social change that rectifies gross or unjust differences.
The social work profession is broader than most disciplines with regard to the range and types of problems addressed, the settings in which the work takes place, the levels of practice, interventions used, and populations served. It has been observed that social work is defined in its own place in the larger social environment, continuously evolving to respond to and address a changing world. Although several definitions of social work have been provided throughout its history, common to all definitions is the focus on both the individual and the environment, distinguishing it from other helping professions."
I have seen little evidence of evolution among you, and hate to paint with a broad brush, but the lack of knowledge about the children you serve, the lack of knowledge of the larger social environment you serve, and the lack of response of any kind makes you well, lazy and useless. Are you aware of your complete ineptness? Should I mention the lying on oh, virtually every "update", every piece of paperwork sent to us?
"practice of social work requires knowledge of human development and behavior, of social, economic and cultural institutions, and of the interaction of all these factors."
Again, I fall to see where you have ever attempted to display knowledge of human development or behavior. The eveidence of this I have seen has concentrated on the norms, however you are not dealing with the norms, you are dealing with abnormal behaviors and this requires knowledge and interventions on behalf of those. You just dumped this last radish on us and walked away. Name one thing, just one thing you did to help. Every single thing that was done for him was initiated by us.
"The social work profession promotes social change, problem solving in human relationships and the empowerment and liberation of people to enhance well-being. Utilising theories of human behaviour and social systems, social work intervenes at the points where people interact with their environments. Principles of human rights and social justice are fundamental to social work.
A professional skilled in talking with patients and their family members about emotional and/or physical needs; an excellent resource for support."
At this point, all I can do is laugh. You've failed on all of these accounts. Who do you think you've provided emotional support to? The children? Us? Nope, miserable failiures. Those few times you showed up to my home and asked what I needed and I gave you specifics? Yeah, that's the part where you're supposed to help. Even the smallest evidence of therapeutic communication would have helped. Nope, we got nothing. You didn't even need to use skills, we specifically told you what we needed you to do--we couldn't access those services without you. And you ignored us.
So screw you, piss off.
Dang, that felt good to get off my chest.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Things you never want to hear
-Woah, you're gonna be mad when you see this mess!
-Hey, where are the wire cutters?
-Um, did the police call here today?
-I think the toilet is plugged (after the second flush is heard)
-Any sort of banging that comes out of the garage
-Any random crash followed by "I didn't do it"
-Yips of pain from the dogs, followed by laughter
Guess which THREE of these I heard today!
-Hey, where are the wire cutters?
-Um, did the police call here today?
-I think the toilet is plugged (after the second flush is heard)
-Any sort of banging that comes out of the garage
-Any random crash followed by "I didn't do it"
-Yips of pain from the dogs, followed by laughter
Guess which THREE of these I heard today!
Monday, September 08, 2008
For my Beloved
Happy 10 years of wedded bliss! And happy 15 years together. Can you believe it's been 15 years since we first met? A few things to think about...
-OJ was arrested the summer we met.
-We were still in college
-I lived with Penny and Paulette
-You lived with Jeff, Jeff, Dan and Chris
-Gas was just over a dollar a gallon. I could fill up my car for about $15.
-The World Trade Center had been bombed,
-I really did know that I'd met my soul mate when we first met.
-I didn't 'get' the internet
With you, I've learned to golf, been introduced to Chinese food, Indian food, and a few other yummies that escape me right now. You've helped me stand through the loss of my mother, and my crazy family. Together we've survived the Keenans, Kahlow, 3M, Pace, AND Braun. We held each other through financial difficulties, diabetes, depression, and infertility. Oh yeah, and camping in Canada with your Dad.
Which brings us to the Great Parenting Adventures. We survived poopy diapers, magic marker on the carpets, bio parents that were critical of ever single thing we did, our families who thought we couldn't (or shouldn't) be doing foster care, and the nuclear bomb that was the Big D. El Chupacabra and our dear drug-addicted RADish have worked hard to try and undo our family, but we remain strong. With glass smashed into the carpet, dents kicked into cars, drunk kids, stoned kids, kids smoking on the deck, punching holes in the walls, sneaking out, hanging upside down outside the house, setting off smoke alarms while "cooking", nudie pics of girlfriends (what a fun converstion that was with those parents!), how many dirty magazines confiscated, the stealing, the lying, and the doors kicked off the hinges it's a miracle we've survived.
Not only have we survived all that, but we survived despite the best efforts of social workers! It's also spurred us onto new careers, and I'm excited to start this next chapter together.
Beloved, you're stuck with me for richer (ha!) or poorer, in good times and bad, in sickness and health. You can't get rid of me.
Gas costs are such that a fifty dollar bill pulled out of a wedding card wouldn't have filled the tank, OJ's a free man, and the WTC is gone. The past 15 years have been a crazy ride, and I'm looking forward to the next 15.
You're still the one, my love.
-OJ was arrested the summer we met.
-We were still in college
-I lived with Penny and Paulette
-You lived with Jeff, Jeff, Dan and Chris
-Gas was just over a dollar a gallon. I could fill up my car for about $15.
-The World Trade Center had been bombed,
-I really did know that I'd met my soul mate when we first met.
-I didn't 'get' the internet
With you, I've learned to golf, been introduced to Chinese food, Indian food, and a few other yummies that escape me right now. You've helped me stand through the loss of my mother, and my crazy family. Together we've survived the Keenans, Kahlow, 3M, Pace, AND Braun. We held each other through financial difficulties, diabetes, depression, and infertility. Oh yeah, and camping in Canada with your Dad.
Which brings us to the Great Parenting Adventures. We survived poopy diapers, magic marker on the carpets, bio parents that were critical of ever single thing we did, our families who thought we couldn't (or shouldn't) be doing foster care, and the nuclear bomb that was the Big D. El Chupacabra and our dear drug-addicted RADish have worked hard to try and undo our family, but we remain strong. With glass smashed into the carpet, dents kicked into cars, drunk kids, stoned kids, kids smoking on the deck, punching holes in the walls, sneaking out, hanging upside down outside the house, setting off smoke alarms while "cooking", nudie pics of girlfriends (what a fun converstion that was with those parents!), how many dirty magazines confiscated, the stealing, the lying, and the doors kicked off the hinges it's a miracle we've survived.
Not only have we survived all that, but we survived despite the best efforts of social workers! It's also spurred us onto new careers, and I'm excited to start this next chapter together.
Beloved, you're stuck with me for richer (ha!) or poorer, in good times and bad, in sickness and health. You can't get rid of me.
Gas costs are such that a fifty dollar bill pulled out of a wedding card wouldn't have filled the tank, OJ's a free man, and the WTC is gone. The past 15 years have been a crazy ride, and I'm looking forward to the next 15.
You're still the one, my love.
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Get a life!
This morning I wake up 'early' for me, which is actually late for most, around 9 am. I wake up to find el chupacabra in front of the tv, with a mess in the house, and he's asking me if I want muffins. It's like a little bit of sand in my shoe.
I'm frustrated. I find this child to be so annoying, I debated going back up to my room and staying in bed. It wouldn't be the first time.
I can't change him, I can only survive him at this point. Unlike DS, I don't have any family building memories with him. He's a very effective RADish.
I don't want to be bullied by him into being miserable. I'm watching "The Pursuit of Happyness" and there's a line that says "How did they know to put that line in the declaration of independence, that line about the pursuit of happiness...is it something you can only pursue because you can never catch it?"
Then I'm back to what Beloved says, Happiness is a decision. It's hard when 50% of the family has firmly decided they will not be happy. No, not hard, virtually impossible.
Lord, change my heart.
I'm frustrated. I find this child to be so annoying, I debated going back up to my room and staying in bed. It wouldn't be the first time.
I can't change him, I can only survive him at this point. Unlike DS, I don't have any family building memories with him. He's a very effective RADish.
I don't want to be bullied by him into being miserable. I'm watching "The Pursuit of Happyness" and there's a line that says "How did they know to put that line in the declaration of independence, that line about the pursuit of happiness...is it something you can only pursue because you can never catch it?"
Then I'm back to what Beloved says, Happiness is a decision. It's hard when 50% of the family has firmly decided they will not be happy. No, not hard, virtually impossible.
Lord, change my heart.
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
memories
Lately a lot of old memories have been popping into my mind, at seemingly random times. Tonight I was remembering how when a new child would come into our home, DS would give them the tour of the house. He would tell new kids "no matter what, you can always knock on their bedroom door, it's really okay". That warmed my heart to hear him say that because it meant he knew that too.
With all the turmoil/teen angst this past year, I haven't been doing a lot besides look forward to the day he turns 18. I've realized what a nasty attitude that is, and have been praying "Lord change my heart".
It seems like remembering better times is how my heart is being changed.
I remember him weeding beside me in the garden, proud.
I remember him sitting on beloved's lap in long johns, on Christmas day.
I remember family dinners, with Sting on the stereo.
I remember asking the kids "What are you grateful to God for today?" DS usually replied "recess" or "school's done".
I remember them being pleasant to be around.
I miss that.
With all the turmoil/teen angst this past year, I haven't been doing a lot besides look forward to the day he turns 18. I've realized what a nasty attitude that is, and have been praying "Lord change my heart".
It seems like remembering better times is how my heart is being changed.
I remember him weeding beside me in the garden, proud.
I remember him sitting on beloved's lap in long johns, on Christmas day.
I remember family dinners, with Sting on the stereo.
I remember asking the kids "What are you grateful to God for today?" DS usually replied "recess" or "school's done".
I remember them being pleasant to be around.
I miss that.
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
Denials?!?!
Parent: You smelled like booze last night
RADish: We did not smell like beer
Parent: Well, actually you did
RADish: Did I slur my words? Did I walk funny? NO
Parent: Yes you did
RADish: Prove it! Oh wait, you can't because I wasn't drunk. Give me a piss test
Parent: That wouldn't show anything
RADish: Fine, I'll do a blood test
Parent: Well, you appear sober now--so unless you're still drunk or just had a drink, nothing will be evident.
RADish: That's cuz I wasn't drinking.
They're convinced we really are that stupid. I wonder if I'll be there when the world bites them in the butt. I really hope not.
Sad thing is, we'll continue to play this game with them, and we'll continue to let them get away with it. I don't have the energy to fight them, nor do I have the desire. I'm satisfied to not have animosity towards them.
Sounds like the Radishes have been successful at pushing me away.
RADish: We did not smell like beer
Parent: Well, actually you did
RADish: Did I slur my words? Did I walk funny? NO
Parent: Yes you did
RADish: Prove it! Oh wait, you can't because I wasn't drunk. Give me a piss test
Parent: That wouldn't show anything
RADish: Fine, I'll do a blood test
Parent: Well, you appear sober now--so unless you're still drunk or just had a drink, nothing will be evident.
RADish: That's cuz I wasn't drinking.
They're convinced we really are that stupid. I wonder if I'll be there when the world bites them in the butt. I really hope not.
Sad thing is, we'll continue to play this game with them, and we'll continue to let them get away with it. I don't have the energy to fight them, nor do I have the desire. I'm satisfied to not have animosity towards them.
Sounds like the Radishes have been successful at pushing me away.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Bad news
My dear nephew is now awaiting a bone marrow transplant. Obviously this was not the news we wanted to hear, but our faith in God is intact. Whatever the details of God's plan for Michael are, I cling to the promises in Jeremiah: Jer 29:11 (NIV) "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
The future is unknown to us, but not to God. As much as I want this ache in my heart to go away, as much as I want God to do what I want, I will continue to praise Him and say "your will be done."
But oh how this hurts!
The future is unknown to us, but not to God. As much as I want this ache in my heart to go away, as much as I want God to do what I want, I will continue to praise Him and say "your will be done."
But oh how this hurts!
Monday, July 21, 2008
Now Cancer?
Thursday we received the news that my nephew, age 18, has chronic myelogenous leukemia. From everything I'd read in my nursing texts, the prognosis was fairly poor--three to five years. At 18, three to five didn't sound like nearly enough time. I thought I would be sick at the news, and felt everything from rage to devastation. However, pending the outcome of a few tests that will be back sometime today, he's been given a very good prognosis. Apparently the newest treatment is amazing, and unlike chemotherapy, treats the source of the dysfunction in the gene that lead to this.
Yet again, I feel like there is a before and after. This sense of before and after has happened numerous times before. First with mom being diagnosed with Huntington's disease, second with beloved's diabetes, third with our infertility, and finally when our IVF failed three years ago. Each time there was a feeling of lost innocence, but this was somehow worse. It has to do with the fact that he's only 18, full of promise for the future, getting ready to leave for college.
The uncertainty is horribly unsettling. So far, things look as okay as they can considering the diagnosis of cancer. He's gotten two units of RBCs, has not felt sick at all, and the leukophoresis treatments have proven quite successful in reducing his WBC count.
When our IVF failed three years ago (hmmm...July again?) the feelings of powerlessness were nearly maddening. Going back to school was the way I found power again. Now that my schooling is just about to bear fruit (and I've had a taste working as an LPN), I'm reminded again that this power is simply an illusion--God is in control and always has been. Everything I have is because of His grace. My beloved husband, our home, my brains, our jobs, and our extended family--all gifts and blessings from my Creator.
So as I try and process this, I'm going to try to refocus on God, and I'm trying to remember how much life means, like the Chris Rice song says..."Teach us to count the days...Teach us to make the days count...Lead us in better ways...That somehow our souls forgot"
That's my prayer for now, that and a cure. God says we are to come boldly, well, boldly I'm asking for a cure.
Yet again, I feel like there is a before and after. This sense of before and after has happened numerous times before. First with mom being diagnosed with Huntington's disease, second with beloved's diabetes, third with our infertility, and finally when our IVF failed three years ago. Each time there was a feeling of lost innocence, but this was somehow worse. It has to do with the fact that he's only 18, full of promise for the future, getting ready to leave for college.
The uncertainty is horribly unsettling. So far, things look as okay as they can considering the diagnosis of cancer. He's gotten two units of RBCs, has not felt sick at all, and the leukophoresis treatments have proven quite successful in reducing his WBC count.
When our IVF failed three years ago (hmmm...July again?) the feelings of powerlessness were nearly maddening. Going back to school was the way I found power again. Now that my schooling is just about to bear fruit (and I've had a taste working as an LPN), I'm reminded again that this power is simply an illusion--God is in control and always has been. Everything I have is because of His grace. My beloved husband, our home, my brains, our jobs, and our extended family--all gifts and blessings from my Creator.
So as I try and process this, I'm going to try to refocus on God, and I'm trying to remember how much life means, like the Chris Rice song says..."Teach us to count the days...Teach us to make the days count...Lead us in better ways...That somehow our souls forgot"
That's my prayer for now, that and a cure. God says we are to come boldly, well, boldly I'm asking for a cure.
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