Well, friends, I've finally made it. I am at the very end of my Bachelors degree, finally. And it has been a crazy time of my life. With school, my kids, my hubby kid, trying to sell our house, a cancelled adoption, my internship, service learning, and a client's insane mother with my part time job, it has been an adventure. And now, I'm here. Ryan and I are finally graduating. Whew!
So the question is: what next? Well, I'm looking for a job as a child welfare case worker, but if that fails, I still have my DT (developmental therapy) job, where I can move to PSR (psycho-social rehab) and get paid a pretty decent wage. I still really want to move into foster care/adoptions, so the logical first step is Health and Welfare, but anything will be better than nothing. We've lived so long on just Ryan's income with supplements from our student loans, but I am soooo tired of being poor. And we'll have to start paying back our student loans soon, so we really need to have more money coming in.
Ryan's planning to start Grad school this fall, dumb boy. I'm really not serious about him being dumb-I'm just not ready to start this all over again yet. But he really wants to teach at NNU so he needs his masters and then his doctorate. UGH! As for me, I'm taking ONE year. That's right, Jess. ONE. Dang. And then I'll apply to the MSW at BSU, which will take 9 months to complete. Hurray. I'm just so burnt out that I'm ready to scream. Or cry. Maybe more screaming....
Soooo... let me update on some of the great things that have been going on these past few months. The biggest about my kids is that Miss Ella is walking!!! She started just before 10 months, and then, this past weekend, she turned 11 months and decided that's how she wanted to get around all the time. It's pretty cool-she just decided that she was done crawling and that was that!
And Robby has been learning so much! His favorite new observations are stop lights (and stop signs, but he's been seeing those for a long time). He knows that Red means stop, green means go, and yellow means be careful! And he points them out every chance he gets. Which means that he tells me every time he sees one! LOL. In fact, we were at Idaho Pizza Company the other day, and he could see the lights out the window next to us. So he pointed them out to us all through dinner. Crazy kid! Robby also knows all of his shapes and colors, and he can tell you all the letters of the alphabet and the sounds they make.
My cool kids.... This summer, I'm going to be looking for a full time day care for the kids, or at least 3 days a week, since I think Manda still wants to watch them on Tuesdays and Thursdays. But I really need a sitter or day care that I can depend on to watch them consistently. Of course, that's assuming that I'll be able to find a job.
Our house, for those of you still curious, did not sell. It was, in fact, a dismal failure, and one that Ryan and I are still trying to get over. We've been pretty disappointed. Our house and neighborhood are great, so there's no overwhelming reason to move, but heck, the idea of all that space was sooo nice. And it would have cut a good 15 minutes off of Ryan's commute every day. But it was obviously not meant to be, and I don't have the patience to wait another six months to sell, so....
Anyway, that's a pretty condensed version of our lives these past months, but if I went on, I'd be here another hour, and no one wants to read all that.
So, graduation is finally here, and life is as it should be. Just Ryan and I and our two beautiful kids. Who are chasing each other around the house as we speak. My very dirty house. Like I said, just as life should be!
Friday, May 1, 2009
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
"Remember Me"s
Every once in a while, my kids (Robby especially at this point) will say or do something so cute that I simply have to tell everyone. And then, inevitably, I forget these moments in the rush of school/internship/service learning/work/moving/life, etc. So here's one that's just too funny for words. Well, hopefully not since I AM writing about it!
The other day, Robby was sitting on the potty when I came in to do my hair. I had just gotten dressed, and Robby looks at me very solemnly (unusual for him, I know), and tells me... "Mmmm. No. Not that shirt, Mommy. Another shirt." And shocked, appalled, intensely amused, I replied, "You don't like Mommy's shirt, Robby?" And in the same fashionista voice told me, "No, Mommy. Don't like that shirt. One more shirt. Three more shirts, Mommy, ok?"
I just received apparel advice from my three year old.
The other day, Robby was sitting on the potty when I came in to do my hair. I had just gotten dressed, and Robby looks at me very solemnly (unusual for him, I know), and tells me... "Mmmm. No. Not that shirt, Mommy. Another shirt." And shocked, appalled, intensely amused, I replied, "You don't like Mommy's shirt, Robby?" And in the same fashionista voice told me, "No, Mommy. Don't like that shirt. One more shirt. Three more shirts, Mommy, ok?"
I just received apparel advice from my three year old.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Miscarriage of the mind
I'm sure you're wondering what the hell my title is about, right? And you're thinking "Was Jess pregnant? Did she miscarry? I hope she's ok..." And I am. Ok, that is, not pregnant. Nor was I pregnant in the physical sense of the word. But... I was expecting a child. And that child will no longer come home to me.
Maria, my beautiful Maria. I ache that I will never hold her in my arms, giving her all the love she's never had. It has taken me a while to be able to actually write this post and admit to the decision we have made. We made the choice to allow another family to adopt a child who is, in my heart, my own.
Maria has Fetal Alcohol Syndrome or FAS. The symptoms of which include facial features (But she's beautiful!), her mother's excessive alcohol abuse (maybe not while she was pregnant?!), and her extremely small size (but maybe... she's malnourished?). I've been over the arguments with myself over and over and over. And what it comes down to is this: I trust the doctor's opinion on a medical file similar to ones she sees every single day. Maria has FAS.
So...... ok. What does that mean for my family? Is this a diagnosis I can handle? Possible consequences from the disorder include: Aggression (Well, Robby's tough, right?), Impulse control issues (I have those! And so does Robby! We could handle that right?), Developmental delays (I've worked with those-and I'm a social worker!), Lack of ability to live on her own (well.... she can live with us until she's 25... that's ok...), and unfortunately, eventual trouble with the law (But maybe not if I love her enough and raise her right!!!... No?)
In fact, we'd decided that we could handle all of this and more, but then I talked with adoptive mothers who actually live this every day. And unanimously, they all agreed: I would be failing my other children if I went ahead with this adoption. Children with FAS require round the clock, one on one attention. There is nothing left over for two toddlers that need care as well. Robby and Ella would have so little of me that I would be doing them a huge disservice and trading their needs for Maria's. And that's not fair to any of them.
But God! It breaks my heart to turn her down! This is also my child that I'm saying no to! I can tell you that deciding to adopt her was the same for me as finding out I was pregnant with Robby and Ella. And while I didn't miscarry, in some small way, for me, it's almost worse. Because I had to chose to leave her floundering in an orphanage with too little care and not enough food to go around. And yeah, I can tell myself that there's a list of other parents who want her!, but I still said no to my child. I put the needs of Robby and Ella above Maria's.
And now, I am dealing with the reality of that. This plan, that I have cultivated and perfected and strived for these past 5 years is gone. And yes, adaptability is one of my strengths. But this, Ladies and Gentlemen, is kicking my butt! For 5 years, I have been thinking (obsessing?) about how and when and where, learning every damn thing I could about adoption and birth order and family size. Planning, dreaming, scheming almost. 2 years apart for each child, each of my babies. Maybe their ages wouldn't align that way, but when they came to us would.
And I now have to face the reality that my family is not at the right place for that. And I know all of you are thinking, somewhere deep in your head, "But that doesn't mean you can't adopt at all. Someday it will happen, Jess. Plans change." And some of you, secretly or not so secretly, are glad that we made this decision. That we've turned our backs on our daughter. Because you know and love Robby and Ella and only want the best for them. But that is denying that this child will also be MY CHILD! That I want the best for ALL of my babies. Of course I care about how all of this would effect Robby and Ella. Does anyone really think they care about my children more than I do?
I understand, so very well, the concerns that arise in the situation-it's scary! But hearing that someone is glad of our decision, to me, is hearing that someone is glad that I have lost my child!
Wow. So now I've gone way off topic and ranted (albeit briefly), spewing this bitter hurt that's been building from comments of very well meaning and loving people who care about me. What I really want to talk about is this: I don't know who I am because of this decision.
If I don't have the balls to face whatever an adoption might bring, who the hell am I to advocate for other people doing so? This is how I define myself-I want to find homes for orphans everywhere and improve their conditions to the best of my abilities.
But I'm such a hypocrite! How can I sit there and spout off all my knowledge on attachment and correctable delays and healing a child when I don't practice it myself?! And don't tell me that I can still do it! DUH! But I still made the decision that a child wasn't good enough for my family! WHAT?! Truthfully, I understand that we are not enough for her right now. But tell that to my heart. Tell that to the huge guilt laying on my heart, slaying me for doing this to myself and, does she but know it, to Maria.
Deep breath..................
I'm struggling right now to redefine myself, my family, and my life. Who I am and who I want to be. I'm so close to finishing school, and I have to make some big decisions very soon about my career path (again). So here it is. Please. Pray for me. I screwed up and I am paying for that decision, and I just need to re-prioritize for a while now.
For now, we're planning to do an international adoption when Ella is 5 or so, maybe older. We're going to foster starting about this summer and possibly get pregnant again, who knows. But, I'm reassessing, and it hurts. So please, be kind in your words. I've had a miscarriage of the mind.
Maria, my beautiful Maria. I ache that I will never hold her in my arms, giving her all the love she's never had. It has taken me a while to be able to actually write this post and admit to the decision we have made. We made the choice to allow another family to adopt a child who is, in my heart, my own.
Maria has Fetal Alcohol Syndrome or FAS. The symptoms of which include facial features (But she's beautiful!), her mother's excessive alcohol abuse (maybe not while she was pregnant?!), and her extremely small size (but maybe... she's malnourished?). I've been over the arguments with myself over and over and over. And what it comes down to is this: I trust the doctor's opinion on a medical file similar to ones she sees every single day. Maria has FAS.
So...... ok. What does that mean for my family? Is this a diagnosis I can handle? Possible consequences from the disorder include: Aggression (Well, Robby's tough, right?), Impulse control issues (I have those! And so does Robby! We could handle that right?), Developmental delays (I've worked with those-and I'm a social worker!), Lack of ability to live on her own (well.... she can live with us until she's 25... that's ok...), and unfortunately, eventual trouble with the law (But maybe not if I love her enough and raise her right!!!... No?)
In fact, we'd decided that we could handle all of this and more, but then I talked with adoptive mothers who actually live this every day. And unanimously, they all agreed: I would be failing my other children if I went ahead with this adoption. Children with FAS require round the clock, one on one attention. There is nothing left over for two toddlers that need care as well. Robby and Ella would have so little of me that I would be doing them a huge disservice and trading their needs for Maria's. And that's not fair to any of them.
But God! It breaks my heart to turn her down! This is also my child that I'm saying no to! I can tell you that deciding to adopt her was the same for me as finding out I was pregnant with Robby and Ella. And while I didn't miscarry, in some small way, for me, it's almost worse. Because I had to chose to leave her floundering in an orphanage with too little care and not enough food to go around. And yeah, I can tell myself that there's a list of other parents who want her!, but I still said no to my child. I put the needs of Robby and Ella above Maria's.
And now, I am dealing with the reality of that. This plan, that I have cultivated and perfected and strived for these past 5 years is gone. And yes, adaptability is one of my strengths. But this, Ladies and Gentlemen, is kicking my butt! For 5 years, I have been thinking (obsessing?) about how and when and where, learning every damn thing I could about adoption and birth order and family size. Planning, dreaming, scheming almost. 2 years apart for each child, each of my babies. Maybe their ages wouldn't align that way, but when they came to us would.
And I now have to face the reality that my family is not at the right place for that. And I know all of you are thinking, somewhere deep in your head, "But that doesn't mean you can't adopt at all. Someday it will happen, Jess. Plans change." And some of you, secretly or not so secretly, are glad that we made this decision. That we've turned our backs on our daughter. Because you know and love Robby and Ella and only want the best for them. But that is denying that this child will also be MY CHILD! That I want the best for ALL of my babies. Of course I care about how all of this would effect Robby and Ella. Does anyone really think they care about my children more than I do?
I understand, so very well, the concerns that arise in the situation-it's scary! But hearing that someone is glad of our decision, to me, is hearing that someone is glad that I have lost my child!
Wow. So now I've gone way off topic and ranted (albeit briefly), spewing this bitter hurt that's been building from comments of very well meaning and loving people who care about me. What I really want to talk about is this: I don't know who I am because of this decision.
If I don't have the balls to face whatever an adoption might bring, who the hell am I to advocate for other people doing so? This is how I define myself-I want to find homes for orphans everywhere and improve their conditions to the best of my abilities.
But I'm such a hypocrite! How can I sit there and spout off all my knowledge on attachment and correctable delays and healing a child when I don't practice it myself?! And don't tell me that I can still do it! DUH! But I still made the decision that a child wasn't good enough for my family! WHAT?! Truthfully, I understand that we are not enough for her right now. But tell that to my heart. Tell that to the huge guilt laying on my heart, slaying me for doing this to myself and, does she but know it, to Maria.
Deep breath..................
I'm struggling right now to redefine myself, my family, and my life. Who I am and who I want to be. I'm so close to finishing school, and I have to make some big decisions very soon about my career path (again). So here it is. Please. Pray for me. I screwed up and I am paying for that decision, and I just need to re-prioritize for a while now.
For now, we're planning to do an international adoption when Ella is 5 or so, maybe older. We're going to foster starting about this summer and possibly get pregnant again, who knows. But, I'm reassessing, and it hurts. So please, be kind in your words. I've had a miscarriage of the mind.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
The next step
Ryan and I have decided that we are ready to take the next step: We are beginning the process to bring home our next child, Maria, a beautiful three year old girl from Russia. Believe me when I say that it is with no little trepidation and excitement that we move forward with our (first?) adoption. It's terrifying! Just the same as finding out I was pregnant with Rob. Lots of worry and fear and an exhilarating sense of excitement!
I think about Maria constantly, and I worry about her. What is she doing? Does she have enough to eat? Are the caregivers kind to her? And the other kids? What if she gets sick? Is there anyone to hold her and tell her it will be ok? Will she like us? Will Rob and Ella like her? What if she's scared of our dogs? Our family?
I feel like her mommy already. No matter what happens from here on out, she has a piece of my heart-she's in there.
And of course there are days, like yesterday, when I wonder how things will be with three kids. Robby and I were sick, and fortunately, my sister was able to take Ella while Ryan went to work. And I can't help but think: How will I handle three on days like this? But ya know, I can't wait.
And frankly, I think Maria will have tons of fun with Rob and visa versa. I think it will be so great for them to have a built in playmate. Sure, they'll fight sometimes. Isn't that what being siblings is all about? But I love my and Ryan's sisters dearly. I feel so lucky to have them in my life, silently supporting (and not so silently supporting) my kids as they grow up. And Ella will grow up to have a wonderful big sister too.
So.... here we go. If this is meant to be, we'll come up with the money somehow. And then we'll go get our beautiful Russian baby girl. We'll need lots of prayer and lots of support. Here's to adoption!
I think about Maria constantly, and I worry about her. What is she doing? Does she have enough to eat? Are the caregivers kind to her? And the other kids? What if she gets sick? Is there anyone to hold her and tell her it will be ok? Will she like us? Will Rob and Ella like her? What if she's scared of our dogs? Our family?
I feel like her mommy already. No matter what happens from here on out, she has a piece of my heart-she's in there.
And of course there are days, like yesterday, when I wonder how things will be with three kids. Robby and I were sick, and fortunately, my sister was able to take Ella while Ryan went to work. And I can't help but think: How will I handle three on days like this? But ya know, I can't wait.
And frankly, I think Maria will have tons of fun with Rob and visa versa. I think it will be so great for them to have a built in playmate. Sure, they'll fight sometimes. Isn't that what being siblings is all about? But I love my and Ryan's sisters dearly. I feel so lucky to have them in my life, silently supporting (and not so silently supporting) my kids as they grow up. And Ella will grow up to have a wonderful big sister too.
So.... here we go. If this is meant to be, we'll come up with the money somehow. And then we'll go get our beautiful Russian baby girl. We'll need lots of prayer and lots of support. Here's to adoption!
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