All Ears

Schmoozer got a hearing aid last week. It's a loaner, and older, analog style hearing aid, that is set at a moderate volume, just to get him started.

It is a Godsend. He looks at me when I talk to him. Seriously, do you know how exciting that is? This is just the appetizer, I cannot wait to get the main course!

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This weekend was Rockstar's graduation open house. We had a lovely day, and she made quite the killing on money in cards.

So today, I tell her to get some stamps while she's out.

Rockstar: Hmmm, where do I buy stamps?

Me: Ummmm, the post office?

Rockstar: Where is there a post office?

Me: Ummmm, there's one in every town babe, and even one in that tiny burg around the corner, I bet you can find one if you try.

Rockstar: Really?

....and this is the girl who regularly informs us that she could move out any time she wants. Would she be able to find the grocery store when she's hungry? Maybe they can attach one to the mall for her. ;)

My Child's Story

OK, I found this blog carnival at In The Life of a Child, and decided to join in. However, I have 3 kids with Spec Needs, So I will write a brief overview of each, rather than a comprehensive post on one.

Bert (aka Alex) was my second child, but he introduced me to the world of Special Needs. After an emergency C-section because somehow he no longer found my womb compatible with life, Bert came into this world gentle as a lamb. His first cry was when he was 3 weeks old, I'll never forget it. Beaner stepped on his hand while he was basking in a sunny spot in the living room. I was thrilled, he cried! Bert was born with a little bonus in the 21st chromosome. Most people associate this condition, called Down syndrome, with mental retardation and the obvious facial differences that those especially blessed kiddos carry. I, instead associate this with an incredible ability to live in, and enjoy the present moment, a delight in this world, and an especially large heart.

When Bert was <2, the Chief left to check on his sister, who was in heroin withdrawal, and came home with our Rockstar (Chels). She was 13-1/2, but the size of a rather small 10 year old. She had long, scraggly hair, was pale and drawn, with haunted eyes. At the time I had no idea that she would become my daughter, but through time and experiences, she is. Her mother passes away nearly 3 years ago, leaving me to parent an orphaned teenager. Rockstar has since been diagnosed with PTSD, bipolar, and RAD. There were times in parenting her that I had resigned myself to believe that she may never be a productive citizen, that if helping her find Jesus was all I did for her, that would be enough. I am thrilled to say that by the power of the Holy Spirit, she has found Jesus, and much more. She is living abudantly, and though she doesn't always make great choices, she is learning and growing, and has blessed our family beyond measure.

The last child to enter our family is Schmoozer (Ben). In early 2006 we submitted our information to Robin Steele of the Adoption Awareness program, hoping to adopt a second child with Down syndrome. Within 3 weeks we got a call, matching us to Schmoozer's natural parents. After waiting 3-1/2 months for research and decisions to be made, and for paperwork to clear, we brought Schmoozer home from the District of Columbia. Within days, we realized 2 things: 1. that he didn't poop right at all and 2. that he didn't hear right at all. As time has gone by, we found that not only does Schmoozer have DS, but is also moderately to moderately severely hearing impaired, he has Hirschsprung's disease, he has hypothyroidism, and to top it off, he has Cyclical Vomitting Syndrome. Talk about getting more than you bargained for! Schmoozer has filled, not only our hands, but also our hearts, to capacity. Through 8 hospital admissions and more tests and proceedures that I care to remember, his delightful presence has blessed us by his will to live, his spirit, and his ability to learn, despite all the odds against him.

It has been a delight and pleasure to parent these amazing kids. I have learned so much about myself, my priorities, about my Lord and Savior, and about living in the moment from these kids. Though they have brought with them struggles beyond measure, they have blessed us far more abundantly than that!

May I add, last but not least, my Beaner (Hannah). She was my first child, but now she's not my oldest. She is totally typical, bright, precocious, gentle and sweet. She never asked for such a house full of crazy sibs, but she wouldn't change them. She is, by virtue of being the only typical child in a house of 4 kids, also a child with special needs. Of all of my amazing kids, she amazes me the most. What a blessing she is!

See No Evil, Hear No Evil

Drive your mom crazy.

If you haven't guessed, Schmoozer's vision is "extremely farsighted" putting him
"very high on the Opthalmologist's radar". No wonder the kid is busy, he gets
little input from 2 of his main senses. If you want more info on farsightedness
in kiddos, read this.

Since Beaner had nothing better to do, she decided to bring selective listening
to a high art. Hey, it works for Schmoozer, right? Well, after months of
frustration, we got her hearing tested, and she failed in the high frequencies.
Off we go to the ENT. I hear his retirement portfolio is looking great these
days!

Did I mention the ENT? Bert gets new tubes on Tuesday, and they are checking
his sinuses for obstruction (at my insistence), while he's under without
optimism of finding anything fixable .

Speaking of fixable. We have a Rockstar whose vision is nearly perfect, but has
mild nearsightedness (per the optometrist, glasses are strictly optional). With
the persistence of a teenage girl with a new accessory in sight, she insisted
that it really is troublesome, and she NEEDS glasses. She will be charged the
full cost if they are not worn nearly continuously for about 6 months.


The Chief and I can still hear and see as well as ever, thank God. Whatever happened
to the axiom that duct tape can fix anything?

It's Been a Week

The vicious icky bugs hit our house, like 3 different kinds, all in a week. First is the week long stomach ache bug, then the pukey/poopy bug, then the achy chest cold sore throat bug. Bert was the only poor soul who got all 3. Since he is still in diapers, he was quarantined to his room during the pukey/poopies, and with hand sanitizer at the bedroom door, we managed to keep that one down to one person. Everyone shared the tummy ache bug, but the Rockstar gets the award for overplaying that one during a routine physical and getting a trip to the local hospital for an ultrasound to rule out appendicitis (she's fine, a drama queen, but fine). Last but not least is the chest cold with the sore throat and achies, which Bert and I have taken the brunt of, but don't touch that dial, the chest cold is still alive and kickin' and could easily jump to anyone else in the house in a heartbeat!

Schmoozer had his BAER, and the results were 10 decibels worse than his BAER from 7 months of age. This is perplexing as supposedly conductive hearing loss should improve with age. Alas, this is where we are. On to get hearing aids.

Bert's appointment was cancelled and rescheduled for next week, but somehow I have stopped puzzling over that one, probably because I spent 3 days sleeping off a virus.

Beaner's 9th birthday came on the heels of the pukey/poopies, and while mom was in full blown chest cold with major aches and sore throat. We managed to pull off quite a day for her, though it nearly killed me. We had to cancel her slumber party to reschedule for a later date....to be determined. Grammy stepped in to save the day, and swooped in to rescue Beaner as the healthiest person in a house full of vicious icky bugs, and brought her up to Grammy's for a weekend of fun. Thank God for good Grammy's

My dear husband must get mention here for taking his 2 days off, during great steel head fishing time, and babying me and running the house. He selflessly took care of business, great and small, and kept things running smoothly while I slept on the couch. He's priceless!!!

~Edited to add: I did find out that if a child has a sinus infection, and that same child barfs stomach acid out his nose, that the stomach acid will actually kill off the nasties causing the sinus infection, thereby curing the sinus infection, not that I plan to use that method again any time soon, but it isn't worse than 20 days of penicillin~

Gerbils and Colleges and Bras, OH MY!

Yesterday was a big day here in the Smugglerschmoo house. After much discussion, we believe that Rockstar is totally on board with starting college by taking a year at Community College! Rockstar and I went to look at the campus, and she was excited and a bit relieved to be going there. She found a yoga/pilates class she wants to take for PE, and was surprised at the variety of offerings she could delve into. We are signed up for spring orientation!

On Saturday, Beaner announced that her BFF had a bra, a real one, like the kind I wear. WHOOOO DOGGIE. After confirming this information, and confirming that Beaner was dying to have her own bra, I stopped at Target and picked up two little teensy tiny bras for $6.99. She wanted a "real" bra, so I ensured that the have clasps. She slept in the one with the hearts on it.

Last but not least, my hard shelled, soft hearted husband who was dead set against the purchase of a hamster, came home with a gerbil. He made the mistake of informing his partner, Starfish, that Beaner wanted a hamster. You see, Starfish's wife works at the animal shelter, and is an animal freak. Coincidentally, she had a very sweet natured little black gerbil that was hand-friendly right there that we could have, for FREE! In fact, Starfish's animal loving wife, Peta, had even had a guinea pig before, and still had a cage and some feed that we could have. Alas, Ivan the black gerbil has joined our family, and Beaner was last seen soaring past Jupiter in delight.

I'm Never Gonna Get Tagged or Awarded Again!

At the rate I'm going in responding to the fun meme, and the award that I have recently been tagged for, well, who would blame anyone for passing me by in the future.

I assure Many Blessings and In the Life of a Child that I will attend to the fun you've bestowed upon me very soon. Thanks for thinking of me girls!

I am a bit concerned here that there are significant spiritual issues at hand concerning my attitude and frustration with the Rockstar. Please uplift her and me both and ask for spiritual protection specifically. I don't like the anxiety, fear and distress that is ever present lately, and in my gut I know there is evil at work in my psyche. It feels awful, just awful.

Thanks.

You Can't Have One Without The OTHER

OK, so the Chief and I decided to include Beaner on our 2 night getaway. We decided to do this because we are going to a waterpark resort, primarily. The secondary reasons are that Beaner needs a break too, she needs total attention of just mommy and daddy, and because she is our only typical child.

It all made perfect sense.....until we told the Rockstar. She is still really struggling in school, and we are going during the week for good rates, she is at least 1/3 of our stress (sometimes more), and she usually doesn't want to go places with us anyway. Really I'm not sure she would even want to go, she just doesn't want to be left uninvited. I don't blame her.

What we came up with is a spa day for just her and me during graduation week. Facial, manicure, pedicure, and some serious girl time. I think we're all set. Phew!

A New Spring in My Step

I knew that having my typical daughter, first son with DS, then adding a teenager and a second son with DS would not be an easy lifestyle. I knew that when my husband took a job that had him living outside of our home for 10 months, that I would be spread even thinner. Then when Schmoozer started having medical issue after issue, and Bert's behavior would not get any better, and Rockstar just kept having trouble, I started going down hill. I got tired, very tired, then exhausted, then depressed.

I am familiar with situational vs. clinical depression, and I knew that I had a severe situational depression, but never got treated. After all, how do I find time to take care of me?

Finally, with Schmoozer mostly under control and just hearing aids left in a long line of ailments, with Bert settling in and just awaiting the results of the sleep study and whatever intervention that necessitates, and with Rockstar settling in and getting ready for college, I have a wee bit of time to indulge myself. I am finally getting treated for a neck issue that I've had for years, and feel so much better. I am seeing easier days coming, and man does it feel good. My burden is lightening little by little, and it finally feels manageable.

The corner turned when I found out that we will most likely have zero out of pocket expense for Schmoozer's hearing aids. (Picture me with a giddy mom face here).

....and did I mention that the Chief and I are getting away for a night. To a resort with an indoor waterpark. :-)

I'm putting it Together

2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2+2

For the first time in a long time, I am hoping that things are all adding up, that we are getting somewhere, and that there is a break in my reasonably near future. Schmoozer's getting hearing aids. That is the last of the significant medical stuff we've had going on with him. We've been able to manage his Cyclical Vomiting better since we know what it is and have meds to deal with it. I can hardly believe it's been 2-1/2 months since he's been admitted to the hospital! He was admitted 8 times last year, for at least one night, and up to 10 nights.

We have Bert's sleeps study done, we have Speech lined up (waiting for the therapist to get approval from our insurance to start), he's doing well in his new school. So once we get the sleep study results and whatever treatment is required (possible surgery?), we should be sailing pretty smooth with him too.

Beaner is hanging in, but needing extra lovin'. Rockstar has an enormous Grad Party to prepare for, but that's cake.

I think I see light at the end of the tunnel, and I think I like it. What would a semi-normal family life be like?

Shooting Rockstar

~This post includes some feelings that are difficult for me to admit to myself even, let alone to post for others to read. Yet I feel it will be very therapeutic for me to examine my thoughts thoroughly enough to post them here, so here goes.~

Some of you have been reading here since day one, and know how I got my teenager, others don't, so here's the Reader's Digest Condensed Version:

In the fall of 2003, we got a phone call that my SIL, the Cheese, had police at her house, and was being taken to jail. Phil, my FIL, called the Chief and asked him to come manage the situation, which he did. We took the Rockstar and her little sister home with us that day, and they stayed for about 2 weeks. At that point in things, CPS was notified of their home situation, and came on the scene in a very weak and pathetic display of impotence.

Upon her release from jail, the Cheese promptly dispatched her husband to our house to get the kids, against the wishes of CPS. They returned home, and stayed until January of the next year. At that time, the Cheese was nearly at death's door from the tolls of her addictions, and once again we took her kids home, and the Rockstar has been here ever since, but with her little sis having a different dad, little sis went back to her daddy after just several more days here.

At that point, CPS filed with the court, we were ordered to get our Foster License, which we did, and the proceedings began. After about 15 months, the Rockstar was ready to go home, even though we were nearly certain the Cheese was using again. Alas, that never happened, on June 14, 2005, the Cheese succombed to a heroin overdose, and the Rockstar settled in here to stay.

At that point both the Rockstar and I knew our relationship needed to change. She had resisted connecting with me, since she felt like that was betraying her mom, but that had changed, and my role needed to too.

I started off with a bang, I was nurturing, gentle, open and warm, but as Rockstar's feelings waxed and waned, I wondered if I was overstepping, and backed off a bit, only to "play mom" in fits and starts when the need was apparent.

Meanwhile, she was determined not to need me. She didn't want to lose someone she needed again, so once again, she kept her distance. Reading the cues, I backed off again until the next time she allowed herself to become vulnerable enough to want or need me. This is how it has gone since then.

This past few months, I had made a real effort, despite the stiff arm I sometimes got in return, despite the intermittent rejections, I just kept plugging. I was finally making real forward progress, and was so proud of myself. It's not easy to bond with a teen on that level. The cute antics, sweet hugs and kisses of childhood are long gone and have been replaced by moodiness and attitude, and the silliness that does come along often is more obnoxious than cute. But it was working, we were getting there, slowly, but getting there.

Then exams came. When the failing grades came home she was defensive, like a porcupine backed into a cave. She was not letting us near her without all her quills at full staff. I tried in my gentle way to help figure out what she needed to do differently in order to pass next time, and was shot down, so on cue the Chief popped in.

I will not pretend he was gentle, but he was on topic, and never unkind. She went off. She attacked him, and threw slurs about me, not knowing that I was near enough to hear every word.

Now, weeks later, I am not sure how to recollect and go there again. There is such a distance, such strain, but I don't know how to put myself out there again. To risk the rejection I knew would be there, was one thing, but this is a whole different level of resistance, emotions I never knew were there. I know what she said was in anger, but I also know that there's more than a morsel of true feeling there, and that it's likely what has been behind the resistance all along.

I know she will not take the first step, and I don't know how. My energy is drained. Bert is up most nights at least 2x, and often many more. Schmoozer has the ongoing hearing problems that I have come to realize need tackled, and that will be no small task. I have Beaner, who gets too little of my left over energy in the first place, and I just can't find anything left to regroup my emotions and get back on track with the Rockstar, which alone would be a monumental emotional effort.

There is so much of me that says she is nearly 18, off to college, and to just let it go, to just maintain for now, and try again to build a relationship once she is out of my house, not so omnipresent. I just don't know, maybe that's the right thing anyway, but maybe she needs me to, wants me to push some more. I just don't know.


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On another note, she has finally agreed to psychiatric treatment again, though resistantly. It seems that her mental illness is more far-reaching than I had realized. I hope and pray that with proper treatment, this will become easier, maybe she will be more willing, more able to connect back with me, maybe.

She is hesitant about treatment. I wonder if she just doesn't know who she is without the mental illness, and feels vulnerable to think of having that removed from her personality. Just a thought.

EEB-

What on earth is that supposed to mean?

Of the 3 exams that have been graded for the Rockstar so far, that is the grade list.

The sad thing is that she studied for hours, she really tried. She's halfway through her Senior year, she is taking really challenging classes for the first time ever, and that is the sum total. I am so sad for her. What on earth can we do?

A Miserable Christmas and Dysfunctional New Year

Rockstar has always celebrated Christmas with her grandparents, Phil and Millie (the Chief's mom and dad).

Phil and Millie are alcoholics. Millie is a child of abuse who has never recovered, and Phil is your textbook enabler. For a brief period after Rockstar's mom died, they rallied and tried to get it together, but now, alas, they have fallen off the wagon and are back to their old tricks.

Rockstar's Christmas was filled with too much wine and beer, tears over silliness and arguments. I feel so sad for her. It has always been this way, but this if the first time she's really seen her grandparents for the broken people they are.

But I am so proud. She is healthy enough to see the dysfunction, call a spade a spade, and to know that she can still love them, and she can set limits. I am so proud of my Rockstar. What a huge step for a child of an addict, a child of dysfunction. She is becoming healthier, becoming whole, seeing the break and not caring to contribute to it or live with it. God love her, she's a survivor. Bless her sweet heart, I'm so proud of her!

Rockin' a Rockstar

Yesterday I saw a note to herself that Rockstar had posted in her room. It said, "Your mommy is always watching over you." then, "Your mommy is proud of you."

Last night I had a dream about Rockstar's mom. We were searching for her mom together.

Rockstar needs me to be more of a mommy to her. I feel a very strong sense of calling to this, I'm being told.

Sometimes I feel like a teacher taking over someone else's curriculum 3/4 the way through the school year. I've tried blending it with my own, tired using mainly hers, tried so much.

My Rockstar needs me to be a mommy. I've been her parent, and done a good job, but every girl needs a mommy. I don't feel up to the task.

I know that when I am at a loss the the Holy Spirit will show abundant grace, I know because I am at a loss SO STINKIN' MUCH! ;-) Please pray for and with me that the abundant grace of the Spirit will be abundantly present in our home as I grow to love and parent Rockstar on a new and deeper level.

Blessings to you and Merry Christmas.

Ready or Not, Here it COMES

I know I've hashed this over here before, but why, oh WHY do pre-adoptive parents get so wound up in what type of child they would accept?

Checklists and questions and what if's. Drug or alcohol use by mom, physical impairment, developmental disability, race, color, creed or gender.

I understand the reasoning behind the agency's asking, but I still despise it. It further promotes an industrial feeling to adoption, and maybe I'm overstepping (but hey, it's my blog), but I really think that people may just be rejecting a chance to really see Jesus.

Since I have said it until my toenails fell of from lack of oxygenation, let me give you another example. My favorite local station is 91.3 WCSG. While listening last week, a key member of our local Down syndrome association sponsored a day, dedicated to her daughter Ruth, who turned 9 that day, and has Down syndrome. I do not have access to the exact words of the dedication, but she speaks of the lessons Ruthie has taught her, of the person that Ruthie has helped her develop into. In closing, she states, "God rescued me through you, Ruth Noel"

I cannot say it better. I was a Christian, a decent ethical person, and in desperate need of rescuing. God rescued me. Starting with Bert, then Rockstar, then Schmoozer.

Had God given me a checklist to fill out at the beginning of my pregnancy with Bert of conditions, which I could accept or decline, would I have put Down syndrome on my list? I don't rightly know, but I suspect I wouldn't have. 6 years ago, I would have told you, hands down, no way do I have the tools to parent a child like Bert. No friggin' way.

Had it been up to my own good intentions, would I ever have adopted a teenager? I know for sure, NO WAY! Not a chance, don't even think about it. I wouldn't have needed a checklist, it would have been a flat "no". Had I known that Rockstar would become ours forever, that she would grow to consider me her mom, that reconciliation would never happen, that I was in this for good, I'm not sure I would have taken her home in those early days, I'm not sure I wouldn't have pushed for her to go with her grandma, dad, or someone else. I would never have believed that I could parent her, not just house her.

I did fill our a checklist for Schmoozer. It was really pretty wide open, by then I trusted God, but would I have jumped in to try to adopt so quickly had I known just what a medical mess would follow? Would I have been so brave as to take my youngest son with full disclosure of all we have been through in this first year and a half with him?

Many people with a house full of healthy kids routinely tell me that God wouldn't give me more than I could handle. It's a cute, pat phrase, especially when you're not living it. God has given me more than I ever wanted to handle, he's given me far more than I ever wanted. He's rescued me, a thousand times over. Each and every struggle I broach with my amazing brood of kiddos brings me closer to Him. Each new voyage is to a place that my Lord and Savior has planned for me.

It is not out of spite that I get frustrated with those who say "no". I would have too. I feel sad for them. I know that God can and will and does work in each life differently, and can and will and does work in those lives too. But I just cannot help but believe that I had more blessings laid upon me than the average, simply because I did not have the chance to say "no" to them. My God has become so big, so real, so amazing to me, simply by virtue of the children in my home.

My God does not fit into any box, nor would I want him too.

Strange but True

It is strange to me, it really is. It's strange how important sex is to men. After having my procedure done, I was ordered not to place ANYTHING into my vagina for 2 weeks.

The Chief nearly passed out when reading that portion of the instruction sheet.

At the end of 2 weeks, I can say this, my husband is a much more pleasant, much happier, helpfuller, and more kind, gentle, and tender man when he's getting it than when he isn't.

For me, 2 weeks without...eh, no big deal, for him, devastation. I think it's just how men are wired. By looking at the Chief, one can easily see that he is a highly testosterone charged man, but even I did not fully understand the extent to which this affected his sex drive, and how much this release affected him as a person.

After finally making it through the 2 weeks, he is singing, happy and pleasant this morning. I guess that will teach me.

Bert has a loose tooth. I am SOOOOOOOO not ready for him to loose teeth. I'm a bit disappointed that he won't understand the tooth fairy thing. In our house we prefer to avoid clouding Christmas and Easter with bunnies and men in red suits, we "play pretend" about these things, but never actually teach the kids to believe. So when it comes to the tooth fairy, mom has a hayday. Silly, I know, but I'm sad that he's loosing teeth before he's ready for the tooth fairy.

Now for me. I'm perturbed at myself. Seems one of my spinal nerves is pinched. Like, in my neck. I don't know exactly how or when it happened, I've had pain in my neck and shoulder for time immemorial, I always thought it was just my scoliosis. But with the tingling in my back and right hand, it was time to bring it up at my annual neurology appointment. I see her for migraines, and this was supposed to be a check up for that. She ordered a test called Electromyogram with Nerve Conduction Studies. That means she stuck needles into my muscles to see how much electrical charge they produce at rest and while flexed, and also shot electricity into the nerves to determine if they are conducting appropriately. No, it's not as bad as it sounds. From this she determined that I have nerve impingement at the level of my 8th cervical vertabra, which is most likely caused either by disk herniation or arthritis. An MRI will show if I need physical therapy or surgery, but I will certainly need one or the other as this is getting more and more uncomfortable daily.

Rockstar gave blood last night. The world almost ended. Last I checked it's still turning, but it's still in jeopardy. When the Rockstar doesn't feel well, the whole turn of the planet is in jeopardy, or so it seems. She has her pathetic face on and the voice to go with it. I highly doubt she will challenge herself to the noble calling of blood donation again soon.

More Butts Than an Endoscopy Ward

That's what I got when I confronted Rockstar about her ever sinking grades.

Zeros here and there, E's on tests, she has seen a grade drop in every single class from the first marking period.

Now here's the problem. She's a Senior. Not all that mature, very NOT disciplined or responsible. So what's a mom to do? Next year she wants to go to Hope College or Central Michigan University. She whined about how hard school is, uh....you have no clue what you're in for next year, honey. She whined about bad teachers, uh.....you have to learn to do your best for your future despite whether your teacher or boss if for or against you. It's the same every year, but this year a bit worse.

So what's a mom to do? Do I let her fall on her face and possibly end up failing a class? Do I hold her accountable since she is still a youth in my home? What do you do in this situation knowing that in the end it's really up to her?

UGH, give me little boys with Down syndrome any day over a teenage girl!

Teenage Girls

I wouldn't wish one on my worst enemy. Seriously.

I can deal with Cyclical Vomiting Syndrome, Down syndrome, Hirschsprung's Disease, Sensory Processing Disorder, ADHD (that's what Bert's autistic symptoms turned out to be), ANYTHING, but the teenage girl.....Lord help me!

Crazy Mixed up Stuff

Schmoozer: His diagnosis looks like either childhood migraines or Cyclical Vomiting Syndrome. We are going to try treating the mirgraines proactively to determine if that helps. Here's hoping!

Bert: Started new school yesterday, and did awesome. This is truly the place for him, and I am so thankful he gets to attend this school. The developmental psych believes that rather than a true autism, he may have autistic symptoms secondary to Sensory Processing Disorder, ADHD, and of course the Cognitive Impairment he has with his Down syndrome. He wants to treat the above, and see how it goes. Here's hopin'.

Beaner: The rockinest kid around. She is such a spunky, wonderful soul, her heart is so beautiful. What an amazingly blessed mommy I am! She has fantastic grades, a heart for Christ, and a love of life. WOW!

Rockstar: Every once in awhile it just hits me square in the face just how crappy it is being her. She's got brothers in her dad's house, sisters in her mom's former husband's house (who is now remarried, so her sisters have step sibs and she has a step mom of sorts). She's got us here to parent her, but when you start at age 13-1/2 how do you really feel like you belong in a family. She's got a gazillion grandparents from all of these parents, and her original only set of grandparents who did nearly 40% of the job of raising her till the age of 13. UGH. What that kid hasn't been through....

The Chief: Is probably getting a pink slip today. Our stupid state cannot settle simple budget issues like raising the price of a deer tag from the very low cost of $15, or a turkey tag to more than $4, so instead they are laying off Conservation Officers to fix the budget. That sucks, it just really sucks. We got past one scare, and here we are face to face with another.

Me: I'm just mom.

Now Serving

Welcome to The Smugglerschmoos.

Today we are serving a fine selection of viral infections.

To start, we have the Bert Special, our first, and still most famous. That selection comes with thick, yellow boogers, a cruddy cough, and ear infection with drainage. On the side we have a fine selection of Delsym cough medicine and Ibuprofen. We recently added Amoxicillan to this one for Otitis Media and Sinusitis. This is by far our finest and most complete offering.

The LeeJo is the Chef's Special. Not only do you have a runny nose and cough, but a sore throat and throbbing sinuses are complimentary. We are pleased to have a lovely appetizer of a random selection of kid snot smeared in a lovely plating technique. Of course there are frequent night-time awakenings added to this lovely mix. The recommended beverage selection with the LeeJo is Alka Seltzer Plus Cold, and plenty of water and tea.

The Schmoozer also offers a wide variety of ailments. He specializes in the face-covered-in-snot-sneeze, the low grade temp, and of course, his personal favorite, vomiting. The Schmoozer comes with Tylenol, Pedialyte, and frequent bathing.

The Rockstar is a stomach-ache and tears salad. Light and fruity, with a dramatic flair. Served up with a lovely Ginger tea and warmed rice pack, the Rockstar is the perfect side for any heavy virus.

The Beaner is a scrumptious blend of light sniffles, head ache, sore throat and stomach-ache. A fantastic lay on the couch all day seasoning is added, and Tylenol as needed with plenty of lemon water sets this plate off nicely.

The Chief is similar to the Beaner, but with far more whine added. The Chief also adds his own nutty flair of broken-fourth-toe-on-left-foot, that is certain to make anyone howl and roll around on the floor. The Chief comes with ice, Alka Seltzer Plus Cold, Tea, and did I mention whine?

All of today's specials include Ibuprofen, boatloads of nasty laundry, and lots of warm comfy blankeys. Watching Scooby Doo with the family is optional.

Adoption Dichotomy

I have 2 adopted kids, Rockstar (actually a guardianship, her father still has parental rights) and Schmoozer. There is this awful dichotomy in my feelings about each of their birth families, that for the life of me, I just can't get my head around. I have thought of posting these thoughts dozens of times before, but my keyboard just wouldn't comply. Now there are three separate posts on the Bethany Boards that have brought my thoughts indelibly to this point, and I feel as if they are uncontainable.

The first post was about an aunt who had very brief custody of a nephew, who now lives with his mommy. The second was from a mom of a 16 year old girl who is pregnant, the third about relations with a birthfather, but the convo turned to TPR and the "proper" triad position of a birthparent.

So first, I started thinking of Rockstar announcing a pregnancy. At this point I don't believe she is sexually active, but I'm not foolish enough to believe that it couldn't have already happened, or happen very soon. Anywho, Rockstar tried to talk her friend into adoption when she was preggers. Rockstar sometimes wonders what her life would be like had she been adopted. I don't blame her. Her childhood stunk by every measure of the word. She didn't know her dad until she was 11, her mom pawned her off on grandma every weekend in order to go party, and brought her to parties and bars in the meantime. She had a string of at least 6 men who she called "dad", each of whom took turns verbally physically, and even sexually abusing her. Her mom was always an alcoholic, but the last 4-5 years delved into deeper and deeper addiction until she no longer even looked like she was trying to parent.

Then there are Schmoozer's parents. Great citizens. The Writer is a SAHM, the Prosecuter is gainfully employed. They are conscientious, gentle, warm people, who chose to make an adoption plan for a child that they had every right to parent, and arguably could have done a "better" job than the Chief and I, and no doubt could have provided more materially.

So where do I go with this. My SIL was a shitty mom. The worst of the worst. Even Rockstar's "good" memories of her mom are of ditching a school field trip with a group of girls to head up to Wal Mart, and of being the hit of the bar as a dart throwing 2 year old. At best she was irresponsibly fun, at worst she was neglectful, abusive and overtly harmful to her child. Schmoozer's parents are stellar individuals, fantastic parents.

Yes, if Rockstar were preggers, I doubt she would choose to parent. If she became a parent right now, I'd bet big money that she'd struggle for a few years, rally, and be a Rockstar of a mom--I think. There is the possibility that she wouldn't cut it, it's hard to say.

Yes, Scmoozer's parents could have parented him, but they believed the job too taxing for them, and wanted for him to have parents who were passionate and excited to raise their son with Down syndrome.

Where does this all mesh in my brain? It doesn't. Schmoozer's parents were responsible enough to know their limitations, but could have parented. My SIL appeared able to parent, but blew it, and who knows about Rockstar, hopefully we won't find out. I guess I just wish this all made sense.


***edited to add***

I guess what I'm getting at is this:

Was it better for Rockstar to endure a tragic childhood and maintain her biological connections to the Chief and his parents, and of course me, or would it have been better to have severed those ties at birth and save a child from enduring trauma that has resulted in PTSD?

Was it better that Schmoozer's parents made an adoption plan, and place him with us because we have a better support system and contingency and guardianship plans, or would it really be best to have maintained that biological connection, and kept him with a family that could certainly have parented, even if finding it remarkably challenging?

Are there any good answers?