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 .....

Ratrace

The first week the kids were back at school was smooth as silk. No homework or projects. After school activities hadn't started yet. Life was calm. But now that they've been back for several weeks the ratrace is back in full swing, hence the infrequency of my posts of late.

Take yesterday for instance.

After spending most of the day at the school helping out at the bookfair, I quick ran a few errands before the kids got home. When the kids walked in the door, one of them told me the busdriver wanted to see me, so I ran out to the bus in my sockfeet. She informed me Daniel got in a fight on the bus. Again. I first apologize and then thank her profusely when she tells me she'll try to keep from having to write this up (maybe he can get out of another suspension????)
Then the homework help commenced. Helping two kids through homework because they don't understand the directions due to English fluency issues. Helping another with homework b/c she doesn't understand the directions period b/c of her learning disability. Making sure the others are all working on theirs as well b/c tomorrow is, after all, Friday, when everything is due and they've been procrastinating.
At the same time, I'm making tacos for dinner, so I'm chopping tomatoes and cooking beef while helping children sound out words and do subtraction.
I drive a dtr to her friend's house who, in turn, will drive her to soccer practice.
I make sure all the kids have stowed their homework in their backpacks. Eat dinner. Cleaning up after dinner I breathe a sigh of relief that the worst is behind us for the evening and everything got accomplished.
Then a child reports she needs a piece of posterboard for a project due tomorrow. I'm so on top of things. I happily tell her where she can find a piece from the recently replenished armada of poster board. My oldest then comes to me to say he needs me to bake cookies to bring into the fiesta they're having in Spanish class tomorrow. Next one of my dtrs comes to me to tell me she needs to bring in to school tomorrow: crackers and cheese, a tennis ball and a leash. Huh? Then another dtr tells me she needs clay to make something for her history class.
I vaguely recall seeing a tub of clay sitting on a pantry shelf (your guess is as good as mine as to why it's in the pantry).
The only cheese in our fridge is about as petrified as the clay we're trying to soften up. Instead of cheese and crackers, will pretzels do?
Luckily my son has gotten pretty handy in the kitchen so he's well under way with the cookies, though he seems to be eating the dough as fast as he's making it. How many do you need to bring in????
As the icing on the cake, James decides to be disrespectful again. When I explain to him what the consequence will be, he sulkily tells me "I don't care" like he always does and stomps up to his room. I know he will not speak to me now for a good two to three days.

But that was yesterday. Today is Friday, wahooooo!!!! No more homework. Though I will still have a teenager who is not talking to me, and a family to pack for as we head out tonight to a soccer tournament for the weekend. First game reporting time, by the way, 7:45 on Saturday morning. Oh well. At least I won't have to cook.
Or find anyone clay or cheese.

Starfish on the Beach

I saw this video link on a friend's blog, and I wanted to share it here.

I find myself at a loss of words when it comes to describing how I feel about the importance of adoption in our world. This video points out that there are 132 million orphans in this world. 132 million. I can think of nothing of greater importance than finding homes for these orphans.
It's important for our world.
It's important for each country to take care of its own children.
It's important for each child to grow up in a family. To feel wanted. To feel provided for. To feel loved.

I used to be very passionate about a lot of causes, and I still support several. But most of them have lost their lustre in my eyes. Whether I'm being asked to provide money so our school can provide an exciting speaker for an upcoming assembly, or to help buy supplies at a local animal shelter, or to save an historic building, it all seems to pale in comparison to the fact that there are children all over the world without homes. Not that the causes I mentioned (and so many more) are not worthwhile. They certainly are. But I just feel like if everyone did something to reduce the number of orphans in this world ...
I don't know, it just, to me, seems like the most important thing.

Everyone is familiar with the story of the thousands of starfish washed up on the beach and the little boy picking them up, one at a time, and throwing them back into the ocean. Someone pointed out to him that he can't possibly save them all, so why should he bother doing anything? And the little boy explained he could make a difference for the one he was returning to the sea at that moment.
There are millions of orphans without homes. Rather than tell yourself you can't help them all, see what you can do to help one .....

http://www.jcics.org/bta%20video.htm