Please don’t call me a Saint, I just play one on T.V.

Those who really know me will get a laugh out of this, although my mom will agree completely (hey mom). I have been called a Saint no less than 3 times this week, and been told by a non-Catholic Dr. That he was going to nominate me.

Ok, you can stop laughing now. No really.

I know, right? Do they know me? No of course not, that’s why they’re calling me a Saint. They know my story, that’s it, and I guess from the outside it looks all heroic but from the inside …. Well, think of pure chaos and you might be close.

6 months ago we brought them home (warning, I’m going to shout at my mom for just a second here: OMG MOM WE’VE HAD THEM 6 WHOLE MONTHS EXACTLY TODAY!! /end shouting).

Moving on.

That drive home was the scariest of my life, and spiralled into a weight loss of 40 lbs, a ton of tears, a new understanding of my own ideals and fears, and a whole new level of relationship with my son’s school that I’d never experienced before.

You can’t BUY that shit I tell ya!

My world has turned into this sort of “inside vs outside” deal that I never knew would happen. There are very few on the inside, which causes me sadness, yet is my own fault. One cannot bring home a whack of kids and hope the relationships that had been formed to continue to thrive.

To the outside world, I’m some sort of hero to these kids, that I ‘saved’ them, to use a term my friend Theresa used. They see my family in public, say at church or in the schools and have this sense that we are so different than the average person. Somehow, we are more. I know we stand out a lot, especially that first time we walked into church with 3 extra kids, or I had to explain to the schools the story behind a little man’s outbursts. It’s a given that we added to our family in a stranger way than most, but that certainly doesn’t make us heroes or saints.

I say that because I know for certain that there is an inside, sort of, channel to our lives. Very few are part of this side of our lives. I can tell you it’s not from choice, but mere time of course, which seems to be shrinking every single day.

I started this post days ago and due to time, I hadn’t finished it. And even now as I type, I have my mom texting me about helping her fix her computer and a husband phoning me about a ski helmet sale I need to see at the same time. Then there’s the shots my son is getting today, the one that has a seizures disorder so there’s no worry whatsoever about these shots today at all /end sarcasm. Oh, and a little thing called homeschooling we do here, that should happen too.

I have little time to let people in to find out for themselves that we are not saints nor did we save anyone. I’m sure that will change in the future (the time thing will change, not the saint thing), and I sure hope people stick around for us, as we are nice people, but we’re no saints.

Inspired to write about adoption again

Possibly, or just sad that my poor blog has been left to the sidelines while my life moves forward.

I don’t ever want to pretend as if I know it all about adoption because I have four kids who are. Hell I don’t even know half. But if someone were to ask me today about adoption they would definitely get more than they bargained for.  Here’s what I know so far.

1. I did not go into labour ONCE! This is just a huge bonus compared to how the original two came into this world.

2. Adoption takes a lot more time than pregnancy. Our first go around was a tease. We hardly waited at all. In fact, ours is not an adoption that Social Services likes to talk about because it’d always make them look bad for the next one. It was a short 3 months waiting after a scant 6 months getting on the ‘list’, which, would you look at that, is 9 months. The second go around made up for all that. We waited two and a half years for the next three to be placed with us. It seems strange that it only took 3 months to get an infant, but two and a half years to get three older children. Ah Social Services, I don’t understand thee.

3. It’s a much more difficult way to add to the family. I always joke to people who are in on our story that I just wanted to avoid labour to get to 6 kids, but that’s just in jest as the labour we’ve experienced in the last 4 months was way harder than any I experienced in child-birth. The labour is, of course, not always physical, but emotional and mental stress way beyond what is likely normal. This sort of cancels out #1, but it’s my list, I’ll make it as crazy as I want.

4. If someone wanted to sit down with me to inquire about adopting through Social Services themselves, I would tell them to run, and run fast. If you love to be lied to, avoided, stretched thin, left in the dark, and frustrated beyond reason, please, consider the Social Services route as it may be worth it to you to go through all that to avoid the usual adoption lawyer fees (adoption is free through SS here).

5. Having Birth families in the mix is not always beneficial when adopting through SS, so we couldn’t go into it insisting on open adoption. My daughter wrote how she’d love to show her birth parents our house and all I could think of was locking away the valuables (and I do mean jewelry because they’re unlikely to even think of the children as valuable).

6. Having six kids with a mixture of adoption, birth kids and older group adoption makes for wickedly easy topics of conversation among peer groups. I’m almost never stuck for words to say because people will get to the uncomfortable silence and then almost as if on cue, ask about adoption somehow. Then they will say they know of someone who is adopted too.

7. Sometimes talking about adoption gets too personal as people think it’s their right to know every detail. I will let them know when they’ve gone too far of course, but it gets tiring. This is someone else’s story, someone else’s possibly horrific story, not a gossip column, not a novel, a person’s life (or in my case, 3 persons’ lives). They don’t need to be gawked at or about.

8. There are a few people who are not as okay with adoption as I am and seem to fight accepting such simple things as a child’s change in last name. Thankfully those few people often get knocked back a notch by mightier people than I.

9. With older sibling adoption, you have to accept that you are not the first mom they’ve had in their lives and they truly think you will not be the last if they’ve been through the foster system. ‘Mom’ doesn’t hold the same meaning to them. It will eventually have a similar meaning to the kids who have known ‘mom’ since birth, but only time will make that happen, not force, not therapy, not well-meaning people.

10. Time cannot go fast enough between when the children are placed and when final adoption happens. It is interesting to me how much the newest three react, without even knowing it, to our Social Worker coming in our house for a monthly visit. These meetings have to happen between now and finalization because she has to prove to the courts that she meets with us to make sure it’s all going well. In our first go around, that was supposed to happen too, but it was sporadic, and I welcomed that. This worker is a bit stickier (I’ve had 4 workers in the 2 adoptions) about meetings. It adds stress to an already stressful situation. In the kids’ minds, ‘Social Worker’ = ‘something bad is going to happen’. I will be so relieved when that extra pressure is gone forever.

11. Churches following dogmas and rules will not baptize children who are placed and not legally adopted. My husband, a deacon of the Catholic church, cannot get his children baptized because they feel they are not legally ours so not legally allowed to baptize. This is disheartening to him, and not true either. Pharisees.

12. You can experience ‘firsts’ with many, many things when adopting older kids. It will not be first steps of course, or first words. It’ll run along ‘first time ice fishing’, ‘first time making an egg on your own’, ‘first Christmas with a forever family’. Those experiences are much more precious as not only will they never happen again, we’ve gone through so much more in order to experience them.

13. Children already in the home, who are super stable and have been homeschooled for 5 years, will change before your eyes into the remarkable beings you knew they could be in order to adapt to their new life. Of course they could become vermin, but when they don’t, it just makes you weep with joy.

14. New habits brought with new kids will make you crazy as said ‘stable’ kids will pick them up and knowingly use them to annoy the shit out of you.

15. Little boys blended from different families could show adults a thing or two about bonding. Sure, a kid may not bond to an adult and may fight tooth and nail over control, but my two have become the brothers I always knew they could be. Oh, and their bathroom always stinks, so if you come over, you’ve been warned.

16. If you’ve adopted to grow into a large family, large families will automatically flock to you. Which is a good thing, but different. Oh, and the noise level is beyond what any normal human ear can accommodate.

17. Adopting from the Foster system means you are very likely to be on a first name basis with weekly contact from your child’s teacher, doctor and therapist. Deal with it, as it’s your new life.

18. A lot of people you will run into from here until eternity will regale you with horrific tales of adoption returns and attempted stabbings, etc. You will hear nothing of the sort from Social Services by the way as they don’t want to breach any confidences that they know about (actually, they’ll just not talk in the hopes that you’ll not ask again and have to be told that these things in fact do happen on a fairly regular basis).

19. This has been my hardest road yet, but my feet are strong, my heart is soft and my laughter is therapeutic.

It’s just a list. A small list really as there’s so much more to adoption than this. But I feel like this is the stuff that no one will tell you about. This is the stuff that happens when it isn’t a squishy little infant being placed in a family.

OOo. I forgot one. Last one, I promise. If you didn’t drink before, you will now, I can promise you that.

Family

Our family. Guess which ones are adopted!

 

Community rallies around ginormous family of 8

20121203-085924.jpg

My fireplace after a day of sledding.

I tried to think of a snappy title for what’s been happening in our lives, but I’m just out of practise it seems. Oh, before I go on …..

Gramma, I know you’re hunkering down to heal up, but I messaged you on Facebook and need you to reply. I love you!

Moving on.

This has been one heckuva ride. No, Autocorrect, I said helluva, and I mean to swear like that. Three months have gone by and it’s felt like they’ve always been here. By ‘they’, I mean the new additions to my house. People keep mentioning that we’re either heroic or crazy, but either way, my family has fallen into the ‘huge’ category.

I’m Catholic. Yes, insert the obvious big family jokes in here, it’s all good. In being Catholic by name and being married to a deacon of the church, we belong to a community of people who we see regularly. Quite a few have become closer than casual acquaintances, but most are relegated to the category of ‘nod and say hi as you see them every week’. As every church goes, there’s a core group that’s always there, always doing the things that need to be done, always shovelling the sidewalks and volunteering to pour the coffees for the old guys, always coming forward to be the one to help the shut ins.

And also volunteering their upcoming Saturday afternoon to help a family who recently adopted three kids out of the foster system to have a Merry Christmas by organizing for Santa to come and visit.

Excuse me, I got something in both of my eyes as they seem to be leaking.

I’ve never felt such an outpouring of love. Yes, I’ve become frustrated at the gossip that surrounds our family with us all of a sudden showing up with three strange kids. With that in the back of my mind, I’ve held back from really telling people about what’s going on. I don’t want to be the source of gossip nor can my Alberta roots allow me to be the source of pity and someone’s charity case to make themselves feel better.

That’s what used to think. I kept getting offers of help and items from people I didn’t know and my mind couldn’t wrap around that they weren’t doing it to gain points in some invisible game in the race to heaven. I was highly skeptical that they were doing it out of generosity because it wasn’t anonymously done. Really pessimistic of me since I do know that human nature can be so giving, but I can’t help it, being in the Social Services system I know the harsh reality of what we can do to each other.

This weekend I will likely be bawling my eyes out as I watch a community I have known for 9 years embrace my children as if they were their own. I will weep as I see my new babies attempt to comprehend why the hell Santa is showing up on our front door so early. I will count my blessings, thank my lucky stars and praise Ra for the community that is behind us as we journey forward bumbling our way again raising six kids.

Oh my god, I have six kids.

Stress throttles the appetite

It was either that title or “how the hell do you go from feeding 5 to feeding 8 everyday but have no appetite for food except oranges?”, but that title seemed long and excessive.

One month ago today I took home new babies. One month. I’ve had an entire month of feeding new people and I’m still not used to it.

When people add to their family the average way there’s a period of adjustment, but feeding the extra being is usually much easier. Boob or bottle is the only conundrum in regards to food. There’s years before you really have to start calculating if a recipe will have to be doubled or tripled, and by then you have an idea of their likes and dislikes. Anyone who adopts, typically, has a bit of an adjustment period much like ours, but on a much smaller scale as we are the only nut cases we know of who adopt 3 kids at once.

When you slap 3 extra people into a 5 person household, and none of those three is under the age of 5, nor are they bird-like eaters, it tends to wreak havoc on the family food stuffs. On top of that, throw in the main cook with stress/anxiety ridden lack-of-appetite and you have a problem. My breakfasts have consisted of oranges or nothing, my lunches are other fruit and my suppers are as small a portion as my system can tolerate without throwing up. I’ve lost too much weight in a short amount of time and I’ve taken to tossing full-fat cream in my morning coffee to try and halt the drop (not working yet btw).

I have been scouring online websites for meal ideas, crockpot ideas and big meal portions but what I find is either super unhealthy (I.e. everything canned and super high sodium) or stuff I can’t afford to even think about buying at the moment. I made hamburger soup last night and had to make it in a crock pot and a pot on the stove to have enough for all. That’s the quantities I’m talking about and recipes calling for 5 chicken breasts for 4 people are simply unusable. At the moment I also don’t have the freezer room to do a huge amount of freeze-ahead meals. We’ve been down to 1 small freezer since we moved and its due to time constraints to go find one!

This is one hell of a learning curve.

I’m at a loss. I’ve never had to cook in these quantities before for so long and I’m running into a rut rather quickly. We’ve had burgers, hot dogs, spaghetti & burritos twice, and I don’t want to keep running through the same old stuff. Thank goodness cool weather has come because then I can at least fire up the oven and do lasagna or other ginormous casseroles to fill their gaping holes. What the heck am I going to do when my boys become teenagers? Kick the others out so I can afford the grocery bill? No?

Wanted: cook who will work for nothing but giggles and hugs to feed a family of eight. Mom? You’re hired! ;)

Lessons in how to feel better about a hard decision please?

I’ve been homeschooling six kids for a couple weeks now and I’ve had to come to a very hard decision. I’m wracked with good old guilt at this point because I’ve had to do something for the sake of a few of my children and the sanity of our family.

I’m sending two kids to school.

I know there’s people who would be like, ‘that’s it? That’s the big decision made’, but I cannot stress enough how much I have loved homeschooling kids and being able to bond with the original kids so strongly was a huge factor in us continuing to do so. So when the toxicity levels got so high in our house today I finally relinquished my fantasy that I could break through the walls built through my constant presence. It isn’t a possibility. In fact I think it may have hindered it a bit as cabin fever sets in, even with the opportunity to run outside, it doesn’t seem to be enough. Tomorrow I’m having school meetings with two schools in the area that I am enrolling them into.

I think part of the guilt stems from the fact that I’ve had to single out the two I can’t help anymore. I truly do hope that they will eventually grow to understand that I don’t want them to leave. I have no idea how to even relay that to them either. How do you convince a kid that you’re not sending him to school out of punishment like he’s likely to think, but out of love for the relationship?

The other four have been suffering in their school so much that it wasn’t a long thought out decision to do this, but I can’t help but feel like I’ve failed. What a ridiculous notion though, logically I know I didn’t fail, but I’m not a Vulcan and logic never can convince a heart of anything.

I have to remember to cut myself some slack. We adopted three kids with a history a short three weeks ago. Three weeks isn’t near enough time to gauge anything really but I have to do something for the entire family’s sake. I can no longer allow two children to dominate the entire day whether its out of fear, anger or attachment issues, it still can’t happen.

So school it is. It’s much sooner than I thought would happen strictly due to funding cut off dates for aide, but we’ll have to manage. I know it won’t be an easy transition, but like the ones we’ve been taking so far, it’s just one baby step at a time, day-by-day.

And I am not joining the PTA.

Have I bitten off more than I can chew?

We are on day 3 of homeschooling and I have decided that I am in dire need of finding my mind again, have you seen it?

Imagine adopting 3 kids all at once, 3 kids with a past and a life and behaviours that aren’t always conducive to learning. So, here you go, have 3 kids, plus the original 3, throw in a myriad of severe learning disabilities and you have the last 3 days of my life right there in a nutshell. Or just a nut.

Previously, homeschooling wasn’t easy, we worked at what was needed and got there in a short few days, into a nice, snug, routine’ish sort of deal. And it wasn’t just me, the girls contributed greatly to that framework so that we could work together, even when we adopted our first as a newborn, they helped work it out so we weren’t overwhelmed and still had that love of learning that kept us going.

Today the toxicity levels grew too much and I had to intervene in stuff I’ve never had to before (how’s that for elusive wording? Sheesh this privacy thing is going to be hard :) ). I’ve had tears shed each of the 3 days and it wasn’t even from me. The negativity was so strong that my mind – and my fingers on the Internet – searched out if I’ve chosen the wrong route in this situation and even checked into schools in the area. It’s so hard to know ya know? How do I truly decide if I am the best teacher for all of them or just some of them? I can talk through it rationally and logically with two kids, and they are both open to continue homeschooling whilst sending off a few siblings, who quite possibly need way more than I can give them. In fact I count my blessings every day that those two are who they are as I think they’ve helped me more than they could possibly realize (and I must make sure they absolutely know that too!).

I can spew vomitously onto this page without regret, but I sure can’t screw up a whack of kids with no regret. I know they all like the idea of homeschooling but to actually sit and do something productive is like pulling Lego out of their grips. Super duper difficult.

Will sending a select few to school label them as the outsiders? I think that’s what I fear the most is that the bonds we’ve been forming will be a teeny bit scarred if I send them on. It may even feel like a punishment for them instead of the break I need and the teaching they need.

Perhaps that’s it. I just need a break for a while enough to recuperate into the whiz of a homeschool family that I dreamed of. Or perhaps I could just scratch that dream and make a new one.

Dream a new dream.

Where’s the line?

After having my new kids for a week, I have often asked myself  where do I draw the line in privacy? I’ve been wanting to post pictures, tell the whole story, so basically vomit everything here, but have hesitated knowing that privacy is a seriously important thing in this instance.

When you adopt from the Government, it’s not a tight, squishy, neat little package, but a mess of problems that come along with it, including some that aren’t so pretty. There could be felons in the previous family, and the idea of having information leading to the home of new kids is just down right scary.

I know I’ve written about it before, but that was in regards to our previous adoption. With our first go-round it was a simple task. She couldn’t care for him and gave him up. Simple (well, as simple as adoption is).

This time it isn’t so simple. It’s not a single infant we’re talking about, it’s 3 kids with a past history and a shitton of people in there that obviously couldn’t do something to improve their lives enough that the kids were removed.

SEE? Have I said too much? I don’t even know what I can say on here because it’s not my story. I’m involved, but on the tail end, I am just the beginning of the last chapter of their horrid tale and I want to do all I can to ensure that any previous chapter’s characters have no means of harming them further through a slip up on a blog.

So I’ve decided not to post pictures of them for a while. I won’t do a big introduction post, I will never post their names or any revealing identity. I’m even hesitant to do that on Facebook considering the security on there has become so slack that I do not trust that their birth family couldn’t access them somehow there. I don’t consider them violent, but any person that has lost their children to the system can no longer be considered safe for those children as they grow.

Don’t worry Gramma, I’ll email you pictures soon.

I remember being prodded to write about this very topic through an adoption blog round table type discussion. I still feel the exact same way, however the desire to protect isn’t for their birth-parents in this case. I do not feel they need the anonymity. However, it is still not my story to tell, if my family and friends want to know my kids they will have to meet them and have the balls enough to ask each themselves. If it’s something you wouldn’t ask them because it seems to invasive then it shouldn’t be asked because it probably is. If you still have questions that I find are too overwhelming to the kids, I’d gladly let you know it isn’t your business. If the rest of the world wants to know their story they will have to wait until the kids are old enough to be on the internet and decide for themselves what they feel they can share.

For now, the chaos is here and we are having our ups and downs and are truly thankful that the downs are lessening even a mere week later. We’ll just move on and the categories in my side bar called ‘Adoption’ will likely become a topic of the past for me here because this is our absolute last one. No really, honestly, this is our last.

I think…. ;)

I get to meet my kids in 3 days and all I can think of is ‘will they like me?’

It’s like high school all over again or something, but I now get to pay the bills and handle it if they don’t particularly care for me and my rules. I guess I am the adult right?

My mom posted on her Facebook that she can’t believe I’m living next door. I’m feeling the same thing, but for a different reason.  I think due to the excessive chaos in my house I haven’t quite had a moment to sit down and think about everything that’s about to happen either. I mean it’s been a year. I learned about these babies when they were 6, 9, & 12. When we get them they’ll be 7, 10 and 13. An entire year has passed (don’t get me started on that load of crap) and I finally get to meet them and all I’m concerned about is if they’ll be happy with us.

I guess that’s what matters isn’t it? Really, if we think about moving these kids, it isn’t just if we feel the match is right for us, but if it feels right to them.  What’s really weird in all of this is they don’t know about us until tomorrow’ish. Seriously, throughout all of this, their SW decided she didn’t want to bring us into the equation until it was final. Really. After a year of messing around and buzzing through her red tape she is waiting for us to be final with it? Sheesh.

I’m not sleeping well, even with my new king bed, I’m still not getting the sleep that I should. Last night I was up from midnight to 5 am going through my mind the list I still have to complete. I have curtains to sew for 5 windows, and I have a few odds and ends I have to purchase to finish them up (especially considering how bright the moon has been). Then I have to also find dressers for them and get their rooms set up. When you build a big ass house and slap new kids in it, it’s a bit daunting to have to get all the crap loaded into the rooms too. Oh, and I get to buy a birthday present for a young-at-heart soon-to-be 13 y/o daughter of mine.

Oh shit, I’m going to have 2 teenage girls in my house within a few weeks with 2 more up and coming. There is not near enough showers to accommodate that (we have 3).

Must.step.away.from.computer. Too much to do at all times.

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