Orthopedist Update

Today was Bub's appt. with the Orthopedist at Children's. He liked it because the receptionist gave him a juice box and he got to watch movies in the waiting room. Also the x-ray machine went up and down "like a ride".

The PA we saw has been working in Children's Orthopedics for 20 years, and like every other professional I've ever met from Children's, he was outstanding. He engaged Bub, and spent time explaining the situation to me.

He said it was very likely that Bub did have Perthes, but he couldn't make the diagnosis for another month or 6 weeks because that is when the bone starts to degenerate. Then they can make a diagnosis based on x-rays. He also said that some people let Perthes take over their life and dominate their family, but that that was useless. Bub is getting the best treatment possible, and no amount of worry will control the situation. We will respond as the situation unfolds.

That's the latest.

Baby Bath and a Soap Box

There is nothing quite so cute as a naked baby. Babies, particularly my baby, have dimples everywhere. Fingers. Toes. Tush. Never again will rolls on the thighs and a Bhudda belly to match be adorable.

I have taken up the habit of plopping baby in the kitchen sink for her bath. It's efficient, and when you've got 4 kids you do what works. She looks so cute, all pugey and splashing. I think to myself everytime I plop her in sink that I really should take a picture. But soapy babies are slippery, so I don't exactly have a hand free to do photography. I doubt I could capture her innocence anyway. And pictures can't capture the delicious smell of baby shampoo on a warm and wiggly little person.

Everytime I change Baby's diaper now she starts to squeal in delight. She knows I will kiss her tummy, and it makes her giggle. She puts her hands out for me to kiss. I always do; she loves it. And I think, "How'd I get to be so lucky." Her chocolate colored eyes look at me with such love. I am her Mommy. And she is mine.

Sometimes when I look at Baby I am surprised that she doesn't look like me. She's got her birthmom's nose and her birthdad's coloring. I know how she came to us. She is our only "paper pregnancy", but sometimes I forget. My heart is knit to hers in the same way that my biological children are bound to me. The bond is the same, the genes are different.

Knowing the situation, and knowing that Baby is technically our foster daughter someone asked, "How does it feel to be taking care of someone else's kid?" Uhhh...how do I answer that one. She's mine; it feels like taking care of my child. Yes, I know she doesn't technically belong to us yet, but every kid deserves to "belong" to someone. God gave her to us to love. We do. End of Story. Kinda dumb question. Adoption builds families. I know that some people fear that they won't love a child brought to them through adoption in the same way that they will love a bio child. That's nuts. Love is love is love.

Homeschooling - a lifestyle and commitment

So a couple of weeks ago I was fed up with homeschooling. I was tired and worn out and sick of fighting my kids. Battle weary, I think it's called. This probably had as much to do with the stresses of life as it did with the actual homeschooling part of my day. Baby's birth dad decided to drop into the picture. Bub wasn't walking and we were just beginning to absorb the diagnosis of Perthes Syndrome. And I was dealing with my own health issues. I just started a medication that made me feel like I had Lupus. I was so sore and tired I could barely move. Life got hard and homeschooling was an expression of the pressure cooker that was my life.

Hubby came home to find me researching what district school would come pick my kids up on a bus. I was ready to send them anywhere, to anyone who would take them. "Whoa, time-out." Hubby said. "We are not going to send our kids to the crummy school down the street just because they have a bus route that goes by our house. Remember, you prayed about this. You felt like homeschooling is what God wanted for our family. "

Sure, bring God into it.

I had prayed about how to educate my kids. A lot. And I felt that I had heard, very clearly, from Him that we should homeschool the kids for this year. Our old pastor used to say, "Never doubt in the darkness what God has clearly shown you in the light." Okay, I'll homeschool.

We had always planned on taking homeschooling year-by-year, child-by-child. We didn't want to commit ourselves to be Homeschooling Lifers. Kids are different. Life changes. We wanted to stay flexible.

Oddly, by doing this we had boxed ourselves in. If I am always considering transitioning my kids into traditional school, I have to have them prepared to transition smoothly. Basically, my curriculum needs to follow the public school's scope and sequence fairly closely.

Didn't I choose homeschooling partly because I felt like I could do a better job of deciding what my kids should learn that a school district? If I homeschool I don't necessarily have to burden myself with public school standards.

My friend Karen gave me this advice, "Consider/pray about whether you should take a year-by-year approach, or if you should take a long range approach." Year-by-year is a sprint training. Lifers are in it for the long haul, marathoners. I was training for both the sprint and the marathon. It's too hard. "The double minded man is unstable in all his ways," the Bible says. And I cannot simultaneously hold two goals in mind. Either I homeschool, or I don't.

There are probably two reasons that I have dragged my feet about committing to a long range approach to homeschooling. The first is this: homeschooling will cost me. If I am a homeschool mom that means that, by default, I am choosing not to do other things. Homeschooling is a lifestyle and a commitment, and there are so many good things about it. But it is a choice that costs. It does have drawbacks. I'll have to work harder for my kids to have friendships. I won't have as much time to volunteer, or go back to work. My house will probably always look "lived in".

The second reason that choosing a long-term path is daunting is that homeschooling is hard. It is hard to juggle educating several kids and managing a home. I want to do all of these things with excellence, and frankly, sometimes I do a pretty mediocre job. Insecurity eats at me. Can I do it? But I guess if I believe that this is what God has given me to do, the good works he has for me, then I've got to believe I have been equip for the challenge. Incidentally, as a kid I always thought I'd have some more glamorous mission in life. How humbling to think that my primary mission is to serve 4 little people and one tall, handsome and balding guy. My mission looks a lot like laundry, and dirty dishes, and runny noses, and shoe tying. Hmm...

I heard bit on the Christian radio station that stuck in my head. It went like this, "You think that sacrifice and commitment are barriers to your happiness, but in reality they are the path to it." Could it be? Has my God called me to the simple, unglamourous task of homeschooling and caring for my family because it is best for me? As I learn to serve I learn contentment and joy. And as I care for the needs of my little children I am forced to grow-up in to the woman I am supposed to be.

Thanksgiving - a few things I'm thankful for

Well actually, if I am to be grammatically correct it is: A few things for which I am thankful. That rule about never ending a sentence with a perposition is a bit outdated. Anyway, I'm thankful, here's why:

-A baby that is sleeping through the night - mostly
-An amazing husband
-fun kids, family
-food, shelter, transportation, insurance, healthcare
-Vitamin Cottage (It'd stink to be gluten-intolerant and not be able to get GF food)
-Amazing Grace and chocolate chip cookies
-Friendship
-Bargain shopping
-Sunshine and the Rocky Mountains
-free babysitting, and the unexpected date we got last night
-A God who loves me
-Turkey sandwiches with cranberry sauce

Hard Up For Blog Material So I'll Steal Gretch's Idea

The idea is that you're supposed to write the first thing that comes to mind.

The president: is named after a landscaping item
Tupperware: is the bane of my existence
Florida: sounds warm
Santa Claus: is dead
Halloween: candy rots childrens' teeth
Alice: in Wonderland
Grammar: comma splice
MySpace: is overtaking the world
Worst fear:losing my kids
Marriage: Rocks
Paris Hilton: needs more fabric in her wardrobe
Pat: Cat, Rat, Sat, Mat etc.
Redheads: I tried that once...didn't look natural on me
Pass the: turkey (its Thanksgiving)
One night stand: stand on what?
Donald Trump: Toupee?
Neverland: Peter
Pixie stixs:EWWWW!
Hooters: plastic surgery
High school: never again
Pajama's:flannel
Woody: Woodpecker
Wet socks: DOUBLE EWWW!
Beach:Boys
Love: my husband

And to add the fun Hubby is going to play along...Wanna bet his answers will be somewhat different than mine.

The president:difficult job
Tupperware: annoying
Florida: Disney World
Santa Claus: make believe
Halloween: God gave kids disposable teeth
Alice: in Wonderland
Grammar: lousy
MySpace: I don't know anything about it - Trashy?
Worst fear: kids not accepting Jesus
Marriage: commitment
Paris Hilton: trashy
Pat:Boone
Redheads:sunburn
Pass the: cervesa
One night stand: waste of time
Donald Trump: bad hair
Neverland: Tinkerbelle
Pixie stixs:childhood
Hooters: who's questions are these?
High school: memory
Pajama's:sexy
Woody: uncle
Wet socks: uncomfortable
Beach:sandy
Love:eternal

Visitation

Foster to Adopt is a rollercoaster.

DNA confirmed the identity of Baby's birth father. And six months into the process we had our first visitation. I was a nervous wreck. I sat is a little room with a squeaky leather couch, pretending to read a Parents Magazine, all the while listening for sounds of Baby crying. Baby was crabby, but not hysterical. All and all it went okay. I got a picture of Baby with her birth dad, which I think will be special to her as she gets older. She's been a mess since we've been home and wants to be held constantly. The social worker said that this is pretty typical. We should expect it.

Birth dad still doesn't know what he wants. He doesn't think he'll be able comply with the treatment plan. He is possibly open to relinquishment counselling. He wants to do visitation. He doesn't think the courts are fair, and feels like a huge injustice has been done.

Up till now Baby's birth parents have been a bit of an abstraction. But now I've got a face. A person; not just a scrap of DNA. What a mixed bag of emotions go with this guy. First, I feel sorry for him. No matter what, it sucks to lose custody of a child. Next, I feel threatened. He still has the potential to take baby away from us, even if it is very unlikely. Lastly, I feel irritated. What kind of parent doesn't show up until his baby is 6 months old. Hello? It's your kid. Do something. Show up. Parent's do that.

Anyway that's where we are at.

One light-hearted anecdote as penance for my depressing blog entries: I got a referral to take Bub to the an orthopedic specialist at Children's for his Perthes Syndrome. Bub overheard me telling my mom on the phone that I had to schedule a visist with the Orthopedist. Unfamiliar with the term, Bub misheard me. "ORTHO - PENIS !", he yelped. "It's working, it's working".

Secret Identity

Hubby sent me an article from Christianity Today about the secret identity of women. Interesting. I'll summarize. Basically, this guy noticed that often when a woman's husband dies she grieves, but then after a time this whole new person emerges. She starts to travel, or begins a new career, or gets a new wardrobe. The guy posed the question, "Is the new person really new or was part of her identity squelched by her husband's domination?"

I have never felt that my husband dominates me, or smothers parts of who I am. If anything he encourages me to do the things I love and will sacrifice to make it happen. Does this mean I don't have a secret identity lurking under the "mommy" disguise? Nope. I think I have several. There is the World Traveler Me, and the Grad School Me, and the Publish a Book Me, and the Artist Me, and the Hip Dresser Me. When I think about all those other possible "Mes" waiting to emerge it makes me a little sad, those parts of me are on hold. For today there are little people who need their oatmeal made, and their shoelaces tied.

I love my kids. I do. No question. But the cost of nurturing is high. I think all moms, maybe particularly stay-at-home moms, struggle with this. How do I be a real person, with real interests and talents when so much of my life is spent caring for the needs of others, making sure they reach their potential? Maybe some people are just natural caretakers, and they feel fullfilled in their role as mother. For me, it is a struggle.

Speaking of little people, they're awake. I need to run. But if you're a mom, and you've struggled with this leave a comment. I'd love to hear how you've dealt with it.

Cute Picture I Can't Post

Imagine that you're seeing a cute picture of four kids dressed in Halloween costumes. The seven year old is a GI-Joe, the 5 year old is Pokahantas (sp?), the 4 year old is a cowboy, the baby is a cow. (We are sincerely hoping that that dressing her as a cow will not cause self-esteem issues later, but my sister dressed her daughter as an elephant, so maybe we can get a discount on group therapy.) Anyway, they're really cute, and I can't post the picture b/c baby isn't technically ours. Kinda annoying, but we knew what we were in for. The thing is baby thinks she's ours. She coos and babbles until she captures my attention and then she giggles, and when her daddy walks in she shoots him a million dollar smile. Some day the courts will catch up with her and we will be a forever family.

One Thing On My To-Do List

I've been struggling with my own inadequacy lately - this is a perpetual problem for me, but it's been especially bad lately. My house is not clean enough. My kids are not progressing in school fast enough and they miss behave (which is clearly a reflection on my parenting). My laundry is not done promptly enough. My waist is not thin enough. And the list goes on, and on. Bottom line: I've been discouraged.

So this morning I got up to find a message from God in my inbox. Really. Well he used a couple of his people in the delivery, but it was pretty clear. Hubby forwarded me a devotional about the feelings of fear, guilt, and frustration parents face. The devotional concluded with Proverbs 14:2 "In the fear of the Lord there is strong confidence, and His children will have refuge. " Hmm...guess its not about me after all. Its about placing my confidence in Him.

Then my dear friend Paula wrote an email about what she'd been learning lately. Here are some snippets:

"It's my job to respond to Him, not to fix myself. Fix your eyes on Him. Set your thoughts, heart and actions on those of the Father. He doesn't want you to dig around in your life and pull out all the junk you find. He will change you as He adjusts your sight and sensitizes your ears to His voice. All you need to do today is seek Him....Believe His power provides everything you need for life and godliness."

Paula wrote that is was nice to only have one thing on her to-do list today - Respond to Jesus. That goes double for me.

Here is the really cool thing: I've been reading in Matthew, and been noticing that angels show up left and right to deliver messages. People have dreams, God speaks, the Holy Spirit prompts. Jesus talks directly to Satan. The line between what goes on in the spiritual realm and what goes on in the physical is non-existent. I've been thinking, "since when did God stop speaking, and communicating directly with His people." He hasn't changed, and I know in other parts of the world he is still doing miracles of the New Testament variety. How did my faith become so sterile and academic. So I prayed for a new kind of faith, well actually the old kind: the kind where God speaks, and I listen, and then I talk and He hears and responds. A relationship. Guess what? God showed up in my inbox. He started the conversation and he said, in plain old English, "You worry about too many things, but only one thing is needed. Come sit at my feet, come be with me. I am worthy of your confidence, and I love you. "