Ooops.

Called the Goodyear a few nights ago to make an appointment to bring my car in for its past-due annual inspection. Asked when I could bring it in. The character on the other end of the line, in a husky yet booming voice, said, "For you? Anytime! Just bring it on in and we'll git 'er dun." Mind you, I hadn't told him who I was, so it was hard to feel flattered over this special treatment.

Nevertheless, I brought my car in the next morning since I had an opening in my calendar. After waiting awhile for the man to finish up his conversation with another customer on the merits of his 4-wheel drive, I handed him my keys and told him I was bringing my car in for inspection. He said, "Weeeeellll. You might be here awhile 'cuz we're pretty full up. Might take a few hours 'fore we can git to it."
"But last night you told me I could bring it in anytime."
"Uh, yeah. Apparently I told that to a lot of people"

Blogger Slacker

Who would have ever thought that I, the Blogging Queen, could go over a month without so much as a nod to my blog?
Who would have ever thought that I could let two holidays pass without so much as a blip?

Who would have ever thought that I could get through the Christmas break with my six darlings home for 12 days with only a handful more grey hairs?

Well, it's all true.

I last posted at Thanksgiving. From the next day forward I was busy what seemed like every second of every day decorating inside and out, baking, shopping on-line and off-line, thinking of gifts for no less than 16 teachers, wrapping scores of presents (well over a hundred at last count), assembling castles and doll houses, attending Christmas parties and presentations, helping children make homemade Christmas presents for classroom gift exchanges - such a charming idea (sorry, is my sarcasm showing?), cooking dozens of Russian bliny for "culture day" for two classrooms, taking the kids out to shop for their "Stockings for Kids" and "Hat and Mitten Tree" at school, sending in fruit trays, creating and sending out our Christmas card and newsletter, getting our tree, taking the kids out to see the holiday lights, visiting with out-of-state friends and family .... and .... pant, pant, gasp. Someone please check my blood pressure.

Anyway, it was all worth it. The kids had a magical Christmas season, and believe it or not, I did too. I love the beauty of Christmas and can't get enough of it. In fact, though it's past New Year's, we still haven't taken down our tree and decorations. James says he wants to leave it all up till his friend Madiyar visits later this month and I just may do that.

Of course my "old kids" loved it like always. But our "new kids" were just beside themselves for weeks. They loved every aspect of it, from opening cards and Advent calendars to hiking through the cold to find our tree and of course opening gifts Christmas morning. As the icing on the cake (literally), we even had a white Christmas this year, with plenty of snow play and ice skating on our pond in the days before the big event.

We kept to our usual Christmas Eve traditions of driving out to see a holiday lights drive-thru display at the Herr's Factory, then home to set up the manger, put out cookies and milk and a loving note from the kids for Santa, and each opening one homemade gift. James and Bella got custom-covered body pillows, Patrick and Julie got homemade "snuggies", Rosie got a beautiful lighted display cabinet made by Fred to display a movie sheet for New Moon, andDanielo got a hand-carved and decorated walking stick for his nature hikes. Mom and Dad each got some beautifully made cards and loving poems. Then off to bed for the kids. It's been their tradition every year that they all sleep in one room on Christmas Eve. Wasn't sure if we'd be able to manage it this year, but somehow all six kids snuggled down for the night in Julie's room, snug as bugs in a rug. Of course, Fred and I (and my visiting sister Mary) were up a bit longer bringing gifts down to set up under the tree, but we were done by about 11:30, so not too shabby.

Still, 5am (our Minimal Acceptable Time) came pretty early as they all ran in to our room and jumped on our bed screaming Merry Christmas. We always make them wait at the top of the steps while we go down and turn on the Christmas lights, start the coffee and ready the video camera. We go s-l-o-w-l-y just to torture them, which is more fun than should be legal.

For the next several hours they emptied their stockings of treasures, ate candy, and took turns opening gifts. Santa brought Julie and Bella i-Pod Nanos, Patrick an i-Pod Touch, Rosie a laptop, James a stereo, and Daniel a castle for his knights. Fred and I supplied them with plenty of clothes, books, video games, movies, Barbies, and whatever else sucked the credit cards out of our wallets to last 'em for a while. The pile under the tree was nothing short of obnoxious. I know I should be ashamed of myself. But you know what? It's once a year. And really, the years between 4 and maybe 14 are the ones you just giddy about, so 10 years out of 80 or 90 I say let 'er rip, do it up big with no holds barred.

Over break we also went to the book store and the mall to let the kids spend some gift cards they received, went ice skating at an indoor rink, had some family friends over (more ice skating on the pond), and went to the movies a couple times. We rang in the new year quietly, seeing Avatar in the evening (phenomenal movie) and then stayed home with one friend over to help us make some noise and drink some sparkling cider.

Now here I sit, on the brink of our lives returning to some sense of normalcy as the kids return to school. We had fun. Lots of fun.

But I'll be glad to see that school bus motoring down the road toward our house tomorrow morning .....

Thanks Giving

We have a book, called Thanks for Thanksgiving, that we take out every year at this time and read to the kids. They then write in the back of it what they're thankful for. A few examples from years past:
Thank you for lollipops. Thanks you for books.
Thank you for God and Santa and Jesus (does that make Santa like the Holy Spirit or something?)
From Bella one year: I am thankful for my life.

This year we have two new handwritings in the book, from James and Julie.
From James: Thanks for candy. Thanks for Mom. Thanks for turkey. Thanks for holideys. Thanks for new Family.
From Julie:
Thanks fore Holl (whole) family and love. Thanks for all hellp. I am soo hape (happy) I am in Amerikeh.

Yeah. I think that about says it all....

Little Red Corvette

Sweeping my porch the other day I heard the rythmic clip-clop of an Amish horse on the move down our country road. I looked up in time to see the flashiest carriage horse I have ever seen these "Plain" people hitch to a buggy. He was a well-bred Standardbred of a brilliant chestnut red. His tail was a banner carried high above his back. His head was held regally in the air. His knees and hocks reached new heights as he trotted past. He was a breath-taking piece of horseflesh though the inhabitants of the carriage were doing their best to appear unimpressed behind the wheels of their Corvette.

I imagined the conversation that must take place in their household when the teenage son wants to take The Red out for a spin.

Son: Pa, can I take The Red out toight?

Pa: No, son. He's not for you.

Son: But Pa, pleeaaasssse. Just for tonight.

Pa: No. He's too much horse for you. You take the old Morgan.

Son: The Morgan?! I'd die of embarassment to be seen out with that old thing. Why can't I take The Red?

Ma: Eli, let Jacob take The Red. You know how he feels about that girl Sarah.

Son: MAAAAAAAAA!

Pa: (with a twinkle in his eye as he looks at Ma) Weeeellllll. Maybe just for tonight. But if I hear from one of the Elders that you were speeding, you'll be washing and oiling harnesses for a solid month, do you hear me young man?

So Much Goin' On ....

When I look at the date of my last entry, I find it hard to believe that it's been nearly a month since I've posted. There have been so many things that have kept me busy, including:
*new round of dentist appointments for all the kids, two at a time
*Bella's birthday
*James beginning therapy
*Rosie's confirmation
*chaperoning field trips
*a minor surgical procedure (don't worry -- nothing serious)
*school meetings regarding my youngest (can you say Problem Child?)
*redecorating Rosie's room including assembling not one but two nightmare pieces of Ikea furniture
*Halloween
*soccer games
*2 1/2 new horses (a mare, her 6 month old colt, and her foal in-utero)

Normally I would have been all over the one year anniversary of Fred and I leaving for Kazakhstan and meeting James and Julie. That's something in slower days I could write volumes on (aren't you glad you've been spared?). That has come and gone without so much as a nod to the event.

If you read and wondered about the above "James beginning therapy", allow me to elaborate. James has RAD.

(brief pause for the collective gasp of the adoption community)

Yes. James has Reactive Attachment Disorder, as well as Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. We're doing this textbook style. We enjoyed a wonderful honeymoon period, followed by some hard-to-understand emotional moments, then moving on to out-and-out rebellion/disrespect, even some limited violent behaviors. Every adoptive parents' worst nightmare, right?

Well I'm glad to inform you that we are all alive and well and pulling through this. We have seen tremendous progress by James and so he continues to impress me in yet one more way. I am trying to resist the pull into a false sense of security since our ride has been bump-free for a couple weeks now, but I know in my heart as well as my head that this will be a long, slow process of two baby steps forward, interspersed with baby to giant steps backwards. That's OK. We're in this for the long haul.

I think they should have parents of all kinds, biological, adoptive, foster, take parenting vows, akin to the wedding vows of marriage. You know, for better or worse, in sickness and in health.

Since many adoptive parents prefer not to talk about RAD, but all of us are afraid of it, I'm going to put a side-bar in this blog to timeline what we're experiencing. I know everyone who deals with RAD will go through something very unique, but maybe this will help someone gain some perspective.

For anyone going through tough times with their kids, RAD or not, one small bit of corny advice before closing:
Don't let the bumps in the road knock you out of your car. Just buckle your seatbelt, watch the road signs, and don't be afraid to pull into the gas station to ask for directions.

Poetic Justice

Yesterday morning I was driving the kids to school. About a mile down the road, Rosie realized she had left an important homework assignment at home. Since I knew we still had plenty of time, I turned the car around and headed home so she could retrieve it. James was complaining all the while that now we were going to be late and how ridiculous it was of her to leave that at home. We asked him, hadn't he ever forgotten anything before? He adamantly relpied that no he had certainly not ever forgotton anything and remained huffy about the whole turning around business. About 15 minutes later we arrived at school and the kids all began gathering their things and unloading from the car, when what does James realize? He had forgotten his backpack! Boy, did he have egg on his face. But he was good-natured about it and took the much-justified ribbing in stride.

Goodbye Flurry ....

Last week I made a tough decision. The decision to put my old mare Flurry down.
Flurry was 30+ years old (best guess), blind in one eye, had a heart murmur, and had an old leg injury which bowed out her left front leg and hobbled her up pretty good. Still, she seemed comfortable enough and got around OK, and my Thoroughbred Jasper was just absolutely smitten with her, so I let her be.
However, last week she came up lame in one of her hind legs. When I picked around, I couldn't find anything obvious, so it seemed most likely just the strain of walking nearly three-legged finally got to be too much for the other legs. Poor old thing could barely hobble around. So I arranged with the vet to come out Monday. Today.

And he did. He came out this morning and we led Flurry into the back yard, at first keeping Jasper in the barn. However, this proved to be too distressing to both of them, so we let Jasper out into the field so they could see each other. She immediately settled down, though Jasper was pacing the fence-line, clearly worried about his wife.
The vet gave her a sedative to calm her a bit, and after a few minutes, put an IV into her neck, and injected the drugs. Within seconds she dropped sideways onto the ground, and breathed her last. Pretty peaceful end for her, and the right thing to do, but that didn't keep me from crying. As I told the vet, just because it's the right thing to do doesn't mean it's easy.

Who I feel most sorry for, though, is not Flurry, not myself, not even the kids. It's Jasper. Though we had only had Flurry for about two years, he just adored her. Once she dropped, he began whinnying and running up and down the fence-line. He couldn't understand why she wasn't getting up. As the vet knelt next to Flurry, checking reflexes and listening for a heartbeat, Jasper was beside himself.

The vet left and I began the wait for the "knacker", the person you call when you need a large dead animal hauled away. A number I don't want, but unfortunately need to have in my rolodex.
I went inside for the wait because, as always, I have things that I need to do. Today is Bella's birthday, and I have gifts to wrap and banners to hang. As I busy myself inside, I can see and hear Jasper out in the pasture. He is screaming his agony as he runs to the fence and peers over at her lying there. His ears are forward, his nostrils flared. He stares at her, then screams, then in a panic gallops off to the opposite fence to look for her elsewhere, not wanting to believe, I guess, that that is really her lying there. But when he doesn't see her anywhere, he gallops back and repeats the whole process. As I consider what he is enduring, my teardrops fall onto the tissue paper of the gift I am wrapping.
As time passes, though, he is beginning to settle down a bit. His panicked gallops have become agitated trots. His head is carried lower than it was. Instead of running to the highest part of the pasture to survey all the fields, he is heading to the corner where the neighboring geldings are gathered, to receive their condolences.
I have just come back in from wrapping up with the lady responsible for hauling Flurry off. You want to think that the knacker is a hunch-backed toothless scruffy looking sort. But her name was Janet and she wore a monogrammed fleece and had a short blond bob. Nice woman. She commiserated with me and shared stories of animals she's lost. Some of the pain is already diminishing. For Jasper, as well. Though he is not quite back to absent-mindedly grazing, he is no longer galloping. No longer trotting. Simply walking back and forth, head held low, looking over the fence and then away again. No one can ever truly understand what an animal feels, thinks, knows. But to those who say animals don't have souls, or can't love, shame on them .....