I-Need-Therapy-Thursday: Birthdays Aren't Always a Party

Birthdays come and birthdays go.

Some rock.

Some are ...meh.

I just celebrated my 48th this past weekend, and it was pretty nice. Quiet. Sweet gifts from everyone. Out to dinner. So, you know, no cooking.

It put me in mind, as recent birthdays always do, of my worst birthday EVER.

It took place four years ago, a mere four days after James and Julie arrived home.

Please to read....

I like to think I don't need a big fuss over my birthday. If I get a couple cards, a call or two, if my kids remember to tell me happy birthday, I'm a pretty happy gal. And if I don't have to cook dinner. But my birthday yesterday had to be the worst in my ever-expanding history.



You're probably thinking, how can she complain about her BD when she had the two best gifts anyone could hope for arrive a mere 4 days earlier? Well let me paint you the picture of how my day unfolded .....

Poor Me ...

To start, Fred called me from work the night before to say he had to take an unexpected call night. Since he usually initiates card-making with the kids, they didn't think of it on their own, so I awoke on my BD morning feeling a tad not remembered. No cards from Fred or the kids, and most of the morning getting the kids ready for school went by before Rosie, bless her, realized what day it was. At that point I got lots of sweet hugs and well-wishes and my spirits lifted.

Midnight Sun Has Set

However, later in the morning, things took a serious downturn. I went out to the barn to check on my pony. I had been concerned about him lately. He had been dropping a lot of weight, despite my efforts at preparing a slurry of warm water, equine senior feed, dried beet pulp and corn oil. He was pretty old, and his teeth were in really bad shape, so it was hard for him to get the nutrition in. He also had something else going on, which we couldn't pinpoint, and the bloodwork we had drawn months earlier hadn't shown anything. So when I got out there, I found him down on the ground, and he couldn't get up. I covered him up and went in to call the vet. He arrived about 1/2 hour later and examined him, but couldn't find anything obvious, but he said he saw evidence that his liver was failing him. He said we needed to act pretty quickly, as he was in distress. I had to make a decision whether to start treating him aggressively or put him down. Since I knew he was old (around 30) and I knew that whatever we could "fix" on an emergency basis wouldn't change the fact that his teeth were so bad he couldn't take in enough nutrition, I decided to have him put to sleep. So there I stood in the cold on my birthday morning as the vet shaved Midnight's neck, found the vein, and injected the mixture that would ease him into a peaceful death. The knowledge that you're "doing the right thing" and "easing his suffering" somehow fails to make you feel better as you watch you beloved little pony of 15 years die before your eyes.

From Bad to Worse

But as bad as it was watching him die, it was possibly even worse when it came time to get him on the trailer. I had made a few phone calls and was able to find someone to do the job of trailering him to New Bolton Vet Hospital, where they would do a necropsy. Since the trailer was pretty big, it was determined that the best way to get him on the rig would be to take him through the backyard and up the driveway to get him to the trailer. How do you get a dead pony through the backyard and up the driveway? You put him on a tarp and drag him, that's how. So I'll say it again, on the morning of my birthday, with the help of two other women, I am dragging my pony's body across my driveway and out to the street. Of course James and Julie are there for the whole thing. They didn't have a chance to get to know him, but I think they were sad that I was sad. Sweet Julie gave me lots of hugs throughout the day and James tried to cheer me up in his own way, too. Later I did my best to communicate to them to not tell the kids. I didn't want them telling the kids as they got off the bus, "Po-nee" and then pantomiming his death by rolling their eyes back in their heads and lolling their tongues out. They finally got what I was trying to tell them, to keep it "secret" and let Mama tell.

Running the Hamster Wheel

I finally settled enough to give them a little "schkola" time to work on some English. That helped pass the time for me. Once the kids got home, they all played for while till it was time for our crazy-busy afternoon/evening schedule. I took Rosie and Daniel to CCD, then got home and heated up leftovers ("leftovers, whaaaaaaah!") for the four at home (Fred still wasn't home yet). An hour later, I was ready to leave to pick up Rosie and Daniel. The plan had been, I would take Rosie to our once-a-month Mother-Dtr Book Club at the school, and Daniel would come with and just hang out. Fred would take Patrick to the school for the Geography Bee he was in, and he would have the rest of the crew with him. However, when I told James and Julie I was leaving, that they would go with Papa to the school, Julie was very upset. She didn't throw a tantrum or anything, but she seemed quite traumatized by the idea of me leaving w/o her. So I changed the plans last minute and took James and Julie with me. I picked up Rosie and Daniel, got them some Mickey D's on the way to the school, and got there without further incident. Everyone at book club was delighted by the two new additions to my family and I happily and proudly answered all their questions. Julie seemed a bit overwhelmed but did fine, sitting by me in the circle during the meeting, while James and Daniel played with blocks in the back of the room. When the meeting ended, some of the kids were drawing on the chalkboard and white board while the Moms gathered up their things. Coat in hand, I had told my kids to erase what they had drawn and come along so we could go down the hall to see how Patrick was doing in his geography bee. At that moment, Rosie came screaming across the room, eyes shut tight, saying James had sprayed dry erase board cleaner in her eyes. I dropped everything and ran her to the sink where we started flushing her eyes. I asked someone to grab the bottle and read me what it said to do if it gets in the eyes. Poor Rosie is crying, everyone is fluttering around, we're both soaking wet, and I'm just thinking, Oy.  James keeps telling me in Russian he thought it was "vada".

Enough

SO after flushing her eyes for what seemed like three hours, we finally dried off a bit, gathered our things (again) and went down the hall to the auditorium. I saw Fred and gestured for him to come out so he could assess Rosie's eyes, which he said seemed OK. Julie at this point had simply had ENOUGH and was glued to my side. Rosie chose to stay so she could sit with her Poppy and watch the rest of the Bee, but I took the others and headed for home. Got everyone to brush their teeth and hit their beds, but Julie was not happy about it and kept crying. I consoled her best I could, but kept firm that it was bedtime. Then Bella pops in front of me all bright-eyed reminding me it's her night for "special reading" (each kid gets one-on-one time once a week and it was her night). Exhausted, I just about cried at this point, and told her we wouldn't be able to do it tonight, but I would try to make it up to her. So she hung her head and dragged her feet down the hallway to her room, all sad.

Light at the End of the Tunnel

Fred finally got home about 9:30 and we got the other two kids to bed, then he heated up the last of the leftovers and proceeded to eat dinner (he was pretty much starving at this point). He had a beautiful card for me and a gift card for a spa. Perfect gift or what? Then I got to relive my misery as I recounted the tale of Midnight's passing, as this was the first chance I had to tell him all day.

A Smile at the End of the Day

Finally the day was over and we headed to bed. I found a beautiful posterboard card that Rosie had lovingly made for me after the end of HER long day, and gotten anyone who was still awake to sign. She had also turned down my covers, and put my book, booklight, and reading glasses on the bed for me. So at the end of a long day filled with more downs than ups, I got into my comfy bed feeling exhausted, but also fulfilled and loved. And what more could you really want on your birthday?





Image source: swamp.org



************

Read it.
Like it?
Follow it.
Please?
Thanks.
(Follow my blog by adding yourself as a follower with Google Friends Connect in my sidebar!)


***************************


And I will thank you if you throw me a vote on Top Mommy Blogs. You know the drill by now, don't you? Just click the juggling chick and you've voted. You can vote every day till like, forever.



Thanks!

***************

In case you didn't know it, I'm like the queen of blog-hoppin' lately. It's kind of like square dancing but without the dated outfits, smelly gym, and elderly caller. You can find my full schedule in my sidebar, come join the fun!


****************

Rudeness disclaimer:

I love all your comments,
I read every one!
But I can't hit 'reply',
I've no time for fun.
Please don't judge me,
Please don't hate.
If you have a question that just can't wait,
Send me an email at farmbeachgal@yahoo.com,
And I'll answer right back because I'm, you know, the Mom.

farm Friday Becomes (for today) Father's Day Blog Hop

With Father's Day around the corner, I thought I'd review a few things about my beloved.

And that would be Fred.

I wrote this about him last year when I first started doing the whole Sunday Social thing, so I'm just cutting and pasting it here.

What. I'm busy, OK?







And there he is. The one with the red hair.














Ain't he handsome?

Problem is, besides being handsome, Fred is the strong, silent, private type. As in, he doesn't much care for me broadcasting all his likes and dislikes and quirks and what-not out to my hundreds of thousands of fans.

Did you just snicker? I heard you snicker.

So what can I tell you about my beloved?



cricket, cricket....



Not much. Sigh.

But I can cheat. I can tell you what I like.....


I like...
A man who is tall and broad and strong.
A man who understands hard work and working hard because he has been there and done that.
A man who is not afraid of changing out a toilet or chopping firewood or running the tractor to plow our driveway in sub-zero windchills after a full day's work.
A man who is probably the smartest person I have ever met with an IQ somewhere out there in the stratosphere.
A man with a very ecclectic taste in music and books and movies and food.
A man who seems more at home and at ease with the salt-of-the-earth folk of his childhood than in the well-to-do circles of his career colleagues.
A man who is an old softie when it comes right down to it, who has supported me in taking in all manner of critters to rescue or foster or bring into our family.
A man who has supported me in the pursuit of all my children, no matter how they came to us, no matter whether they were staying with us a week, or a school year, or a lifetime.
A man who has taught our children what it is to work hard, to appreciate the good things in life, to apply yourself, and to always help those in need.



But don't tell him I told you any of that.

I'm linking up today with SixSuitcaseTravel.com for their Father's Day Blog Hop. Come join the fun!

And I'm linking up with yet another blog hop. Deborah Jean's Dandelion House. Come check it out!


















Thanks for stopping by! Come back soon. I'm here every day, rain or shine.
Anne~


*********************


Don't forget, I will love you forever if you throw me a couple votes:

Circle of Moms: click the pink badge, scroll down to my blog, and click the thumbs-up button to vote. You can vote every day till June 20th!





Top Mommy Blogs: You know the drill by now, don't you? Just click the juggling chick and you've voted. You can vote every day till, like forever.

Thanks!

Mirth Monday Becomes (for today) Memorial Monday

Thanks for stopping by. Have a wonderful Memorial Day!
~Anne


**************



Throw me a vote on Top Mommy Blogs? Just one click of this button (below) and you've voted. You can vote every day!



Thank you, thank you, thank you!


Image courtesy: blogs.babble.com

Standard Slippage

When the kids were little, I was several steps ahead of the game when it came to the celebration of their birthdays.

If my preschooler was into dinosaurs? I crafted a cake complete with volcano, trees, and dinosaurs of both the herbiferous and carniverous varieties.

If the child in question was into knights? There was sure to be a castle cake, with candles on the towers, and a functioning portcullis.

As the kids got older, the cakes became simpler affairs, but they still kept to minimal standards. Namely, on time, favorite kind, and correct number of candles.

That is, until the barrage of permission slips, piercing requests, and texting plans got the better of me and I began to fall behind the eight ball.

Case in point:

Julie had a birthday recently.

When the kids were in school,I got the cake made. It was even the requested kind
chocolate on chocolate. Is she my girl or what?

It was on time.

But I kind of forgot about the candles. Never even checked to see if we had any.

I made the cake when the kids were in school, then ran out to pick up Daniel. By the time I got back, Rosie had prettied up the cake with some sprinkles, and added the candles. This is what it looked like:

Rosie found 12 birthday candles in the pantry, plus a number '2' candle. So she arranged the 12 candles, then broke a toothpick in half to make a plus sign, and then added the '2'.

I said to her, "What is all this?"

"Isn't it obvious? 12 + 2 = 14."


And that's how birthday cakes are done once you enter the realm of teenagers.
Or the realm of Moms-too-busy-to-make-sure-we-have-birthday-candles.

I guess they are one and the same realm.






Throw me a vote on Top Mommy Blogs? Just one click of this button (below) and you've voted. You can vote every day!



Thank you, thank you, thank you!

End of an Era

My baby boy did the unthinkable yesterday. He turned 10 yeas old.

HOW COULD HE?!

I now have not one child in my life that's in the single digits. That's just not fair. It makes me feel so darned old.

Sigh.

ANyway, he seemed to have a fun time yesterday. He wanted to go out to Denny's with the family (our kids were born with a silver spatula in their mouths) so we went there for lunch. When we got home we opened gifts from the family and he loved everything:
Patrick gave him a book on pirates
James gave him a wooden gun that shoots rubberbands
Rosie had gotten him a handweight (for building those 10 year old biceps)
Bella chose a rainbow art pad
Julie bought him a wall applique of Halo 3 (from an x-box game for those of you who reside in caves)
and River (cousin visiting with us this week) got him a Nerf Gun the size of our garage.

His Dad and I got him a book and a Playmobil set of a Roman arena complete with gladiators and lions and chariots.

At least I still have one child that is not above wanting honest to God toys for his birthday and not just electronics.

So then he had a couple friends come over and they ran, swam, rode bikes, shot Nerf guns, and played video games. We then had pizza for dinner and moved on to singing Happy Birthday and blowing out candles.

He also got a VERY cool gift from his Aunt Mary. She wrote him a song and he got to watch her perform it on the computer. As he says, it was totally awesome.

I'm glad Daniel had a good birthday.

I'll be OK ... sniff, sniff......really I will......

Julie's Birthday Bash

Julie had her "friend's" birthday party last night. I took Jewels and 4 of her brothers and sisters (Patrick was a bit under the weather) to Boomer's, which is one of those Habitrail-for-kids kinda places. 3 of the 4 friends she invited from school were able to come, and she was a pig in mud tearing around with everyone. Daniel dressed like a Ninja (of course he did) and there was much sneaking and chasing and running amok.
They had a break for pizza and birthday cake and sugar-water (OK, it was fruit punch and lemonade, same thing) and then got right back into the frey.
By the time the party was over they were all soaked with sweat, out of breath, and their eyes were zig-zagging about like they were watching a ping-pong match.
Then I got to load six of these crazed little people into my car and take them home where they continued to run around like escaped mental patients.
But it was worth it. Julie had a birthday party. Probably the first one ever. She had a cake with pink roses on it and "Happy Birthday Julie" sprawled across it and a passle of munchkins shouting Happy Birthday to You Cha-Cha-Cha. She got to open presents which included jewelry, Barbies, Hula-Hoops, and kickballs.

Julie just now stumbled over to me for a hug, having just crawled out of bed. Her hair is a mess and her face is all sleepy and her arms and face are covered in pink heart ink-stamps. Looks like she and I will both need some time to recover from last night .....

Answer: Crackers and Candy and Drink

Question: How are birthdays celebrated at Julie's orphanage?

Yesterday was Miss Julie's birthday; she turned 11 years old, joining my other two girls. She was basking in delight from break of dawn through nightfall, just glowing and grinning and full of herself all the livelong day.

Truth be told, it wasn't much of a birthday, but she didn't seem to notice.
She got soaking dripping wet at Rosie's soccer game (along with Rosie's friend Alyssa), but then got to warm up at Mickey D's with a chicken nugget happy meal that had a Kidz Bop CD as the prize.
She had to sit in the car for nearly 2 hours in order to take Alyssa to our pre-arranged drop-off spot and then back to our house, but she enjoyed giggling with the girls in the backseat and watching a movie on the DVD player.
She got to eat the dinner of her choice, which was spaghetti. Even though Mom hadn't pulled it together to make it a complete meal with salad and Italian bread, she didn't seem to mind.
She got to open presents from her family, and she loved every last blessed thing that her brothers and sisters had bought her:
A jumbo pencil
Happy Birthday sunglasses
Goo
A rubber ball
A pretty blue baseball cap
A self-inflating whoopie cushion (will advances in technology never cease?)
A jewelry kit
Some hair barrettes.

Her Dad and I got her a Nintendo DS and a couple games to go with it and she was just tickled pink. She kept running back and forth to both of us to give us one bear hug after another. She played with it most of the night until we finally cracked the whip about lights out.

After presents we had cake and ice cream, and she looked so full of herself sitting in front of her white frosted cake with little pink hearts and her name spelled out in candles. A bit over-excited, she didn't understand to wait till the birthday song was over before blowing out the candles, and I don't know if she made a wish. I'm kinda guessing her wishes have come true. I know mine have.

While everyone was eating their chocolate cake, I asked Julie to tell us what she usually did for her birthdays in Kazakhstan. She said they have crackers and candy and drink. And if I understood her correctly, they have one of those Barbie heads where you fix the hair and do the make-up, and that is brought out for the girls to play with on special events like birthdays.
The sense I got was, even though today was far from perfect, this was the best birthday of this sweet young girl's life.

Happy Birthday to you, Julie. And many more ......

It Was A Good Day

James had a wonderful birthday yesterday. His first in America, his first with his family. We took him to dinner at Bugaboo Creek. He loved the food and watching the various animals flop and move around up on the walls. He seemed surprised and embarassed when the wait staff all came over clapping and singing a goofy birthday song and attempted to get him to "kiss the moose" (he wouldn't have any part of it).




At home we opened presents and he loved each and every little thing. He really seemed floored when he opened his gift from Fred and me, which was a Zune. He had borrowed Patrick's a lot to listen to music, so he was thrilled to have his own.









After presents we had cake and ice cream, and it was just as I had dreamed. When it came time to make a wish and blow out his candles, he closed his eyes and folded his hands in prayer for a moment.




Happy Birthday, James. We love you. son.

Make a Wish .....

About this time one year ago I wrote the post below. At that time our adoption future was very uncertain. Our dossier was being prepared and we were hoping we would be given the greenlight to travel to Kazakhstan to begin the adoption proceedings, but we really had no sense of certainty about it. We prayed and hoped a lot. We lost a lot of sleep tossing and turning with the angst of it all. We just knew that no matter how slim the chances seemed, we had to at least do our part and keep trying.

Borya celebrated his 13th birthday yesterday (3/11)! I'm hoping and praying that his next birthday will be celebrated in his home, surrounded by his family all singing to him, with a sloppy, homemade cake and flickering candles on the table in front of him.

Now here I sit today, one year later, and my head is reeling with the reality that wishes do come true. Today the little 8 year old boy I met so many years ago turned 14. As I write this, he sits in his school, with his new-found friends wishing him Happy Birthday and clapping him on the back. Tonight after dinner her will sit with a sloppy homemade cake and flickering candles on the table in front of him. He will sit and listen, grinning face glowing in the candlelight, as his sisters and brothers, his mother and father, sing Happy Birthday shouting and out of tune. He will open the gifts we've gotten for him, and I know he will appreciate the little things the kids picked out and bought for him with their money. He will celebrate his birthday this year in his home. With his family. I don't know what he will wish for when he blows out his birthday candles, but I know I'll be sending a prayer of thanks. Thanks for granting this wish.

Chaos Theory

With two tweens, two preteens and six teenagers at our house this weekend, there was never a dull moment (or a quiet one). Here the swat team gets ready for a big mission.


Our friend A grew a new shadow. James followed her around all weekend like a lovesick puppy dog. Can you blame him?


Happy Birthday Patrick! Seems like I turned around and blinked and he was 14. I gotta stop doing that.


These are the 10 kids that kept us on our toes this weekend. A, G, A, James, Patrick, J. Next row Bella, Daniel, Rosie, Julie.


Our six: Daniel, James, Patrick, Bella, Rosie, Julie.