First off if you don’t know what I am talking about READ HERE VERY IMPORTANT!!

I got a call from the foster family for the oldest son. Her and her husband always wanted a large family but could not have children. She explained to me from the start that they had hoped that the 13 year old (for his privacy sake I am referring to him as such instead of by name. No disrespect is intended) would be able to be adopted. They were running into issues with the court system because they were hoping because of the felony charge against the mother for child neglect resulting in the death of an infant would automatically make it so he could be adopted. Not the case. BUT last week the boy’s mother decided to give up any parental rights (even though they were revoked and legality was holding everything back) and the remaining 4 were now adoptable.
The foster mother called me. I don’t know why she thought to call me but she did. She shared her heart. She cried her heart out that now she was going to be a mom. I choked back the tears of disbelief. I have known this woman for quite a few years. I know that the desire of her heart was to be a mom. She informed me that they were petitioning for all four children. *gulp 4 children There was a small hiccup. Even though the parental rights have been revoked, the mother is in jail, the father is in jail, and now the state has made these 4 children adoptable the 9 year old does not want to be adopted. She did not know if they should go ahead with the adoption of him or just let him be. I had no words. What a heavy decision to make. One part of me felt that if he felt the love in that home that he may eventually come around. The other part of me knows that handling two little ones under 5 a 9 and 13 year old would be a lot to maintain. Especially if one was holding a torch for his biological mother.
Last night again she called and said that they were going to go ahead and adopt all four. She felt that in the long run that he would eventually come into his own understanding with their love and support.
This has been an emotional journey. I felt guilty for stepping in because I am a mother. I now understand the other side of it though. Biology does not always make you a mother. Biology merely gives you the gift to become a mother. I have felt the burden of tearing a family apart. It was torn apart to be rebuilt with a new beginning. Each one of those boys has a chance to be in a loving and caring home. Good does prevail.
Baby Alex is in God’s hands. The adoption of the remaining 4 will be final next month. And with that knowledge…my Christmas is complete.

Update on the kiddos:

I went to the hospital on Friday. The baby is still in and still recovering from RSV. It was indeed serious and they think he might be in for a few more days at least. All of the other boys have been sent to their placement foster homes. The social worker called me also on Friday to get a run down on what I saw. I guess they were all in just an emergency temporary under 72 hour home until it was determined whether this would be long term or not. It has been officially decided that it will be long term. They were placed with a “permanent” social worker I guess for long term foster care.
My heart still aches. I still wonder if being split apart is better than with what they had at home. I have to rest in the knowledge that it has to be.
Because of these circumstances I have decided to try to write every day two things in my life that I am grateful for. This has certainly taught me a lot.

What I a grateful for: I am grateful of course for my husband and children. I know that on occasion they drive me up a wall BUT they are my life source. They each make me want to be a better person.
I am grateful that I was raised in a loving home. My parents loved me beyond measure. I am sad that it took me until I became a mother to recognize this, but none the less I did see it and feel its presents in my daily life.
I am grateful that I was there Wed. night. I am grateful that I was used in a way that I did not know I had the strength to do.

**DISCLAIMER: I WAS GOING TO WRITE ABOUT THE LAST POST BUT I HAVE DECIDED THAT THIS SUBJECT CAN NOT WAIT.

Last night seemed like any other Wednesday night. I dropped the kids off at AWANA and went to go get a cup of coffee at Starb*cks. As I was sitting there chatting with Mamacita about the lovely dirty geodes she had sent the children I stopped mid sentence and noticed two spaces away a van load of children with no adult supervision. I saw them flinging themselves over seats and then one dared to open the van sliding door. The toddler popped out of the seat and on to the ground. Thankfully the car alarm went off. Suddenly, a small woman came angrily out of the door. She was yelling at the toddler to get back in and screaming at the older child. I sat and watched in horror as she raised her hand and struck him several times in the face. I abruptly told Mamacita that I could not believe what I was seeing. I think my words to her were, “OH NO SHE DIDN’T!! I’VE GOT TO GO!” I can not explain what I was feeling.
As a mother I definitely recognize a mother on the edge. With 5 boys in the car I can only imagine that a little peace was in order. I approached her hoping to diffuse the situation and asked if I could help. She looked at me with her icy blue eyes and started complaining, ranting and cussing that her children were horrible and all she wanted was a little peace and all she needed was a cup of coffee. I asked if she needed a minute away. She told me to mind my own business. Then she stopped and pondered my question. Her exact words after that were, “Let’s see if you’re worth the money I’ll pay you…NOTHING!” and with a sneer she walked back into the Starb**ks. Stunned and somewhat like a deer in the headlights I took a moment to compose myself. I then got into the car where I observe the most adorable 5 little boys.
The oldest was 11. His face was red from his mother’s slaps. He was embarrassed that I witnessed the altercation with his mother. I assured him that it was OK. I was there to help. The 6 month old baby through wheezing coughs yelled for my attention. I took him out of his car seat and saw that he was dressed in a onesie. The weather was below freezing outside. The two year old was a piece of work. He had the same ornery look HB gets on a daily basis. When he realized he had my attention he started clowning around. The 5 year old told me how old he was. He said he was 6. His brothers corrected him. This started a milling and a wrestling match that I quickly put a stop to. I felt a little closed in with 5 boys in a mini van. The energy from that group could have powered Denver! The 9 year old was particular and exact. He has his ducks in row. He was the exacter of the group. Yes, new word…exacter. It is a child that sees things only in black and white. Everything has to have sense and order. As I marveled at this little cluster of children reality struck me. I was a stranger, in the car with 5 children. This woman left me in charge of her 5 children and was sitting in the coffee shop sipping on coffee reading the paper. I immediately had to swallow my anger. How did she know I was not a weirdo. Did she need a break so bad that she relinquished her children to someone that stepped in? How dare she. My heart ached for these children as they told me story after story and bounced from seat to seat. The 6 month old rested in contentment and watched the excitement even though he was wheezing. A few minutes before his mother came back he said, “Thank you for coming and stopping her. She puts me in charge all of the time. I am always responsible for all of these kids.” Then I got angry. Here was this 11 year old boy taking more responsibility than his mother.
While she was inside I used a crayon from the floor. I saw a piece of mail stuffed between the seats. I asked the 11 year old if that was where he lived. He said yes. I copied down her address. I didn’t know what I was going to do with it, but something told me I would need it.
Thirty minutes later a calmer mother on caffeine walked out of the shop. She opened the door. I froze. I got out, put the baby back in the car seat and said goodbye. She cussed at me that I was a do gooder and that she was going to feel no guilt for taking advantage of me.
I explained that if it meant that she was calmer then I didn’t care. She quickly jumped in, yelled at the children to get buckled up and off they went.
As they were leaving I saw her raise her hand to the 11 year old. That was IT! I had had it. I have never ever reported anyone. She had told me to mind my own business. BS. I had had it. I generally take most things with a grain of salt and let it roll off my back. This time all I could think about was the littlest on with hardly any clothing on, the oldest one with his red face. I pulled out the piece of crayoned paper and dialed 911. I felt ridiculous for not calling before.
The dispatcher kept me on the line while the police went to check the scene. She let me go and got my number for the police to call me back for their report. I agreed. I called back Mamacita and with my nerves shot tried to explain the goings on of the night. I apologized for hanging up on her. She of course understood.
While I was talking with her the police called to ask if they could get a statement from me on what I saw. I explained. The officer had mercy on me because I was so upset. He explained that they had the mother in custody and she was being arrested. He was obviously shook up from the experience. He was newer on the force. (that I found out later) I asked about the children. He explained that he could not release any information. I explained the happenings on the night. He felt compelled to tell me that the children were all being taken to the hospital. After about an hour I received another call. The children were all there. The officer had more questions. After begging to know how the kids were he explained what had happened. They approached the scene. She became verbally and then physically abusive to them. They arrested her and took her down. The things that he wanted to know was if I had seen any blood. I asked why. Then thought back and said no. I only saw the 11 year old get yelled at and his face slapped several times. He explained that the 11 year old came rushing out when the mom was arrested. His face was bloodied. The two year old was screaming, the 9 year old was eerily serious, the baby was wheezing, and the 6 year old was terrified. He said that the 11 year old had a broken nose that had just happened. The 9 year old was to himself rocking in a corner. The six year old was covered in bruises and there were apparent burns. The two year old was covered in bruises under his clothing and it was apparent that his left wrist had been broken and never fixed according to the x-rays. The baby had RSV. I stood gaping at the phone and then it started. I couldn’t stop it. I started crying and shaking. I felt a strange amount of guilt that I had waited to call. Someone had to have seen something before me. I felt a overwhelming guilt that the children might get separated. I felt guilt that I had healthy and wonderful children. I felt angry for all the nights I begged God just to give us one child, and then got even angrier when I thought about the five years in prayer for our second child. I can not explain all of the emotions I was feeling.
I do not recall ever thinking about what she might do to me. I don’t remember thinking twice about jumping in her vehicle and watching her children until I was already in the moment. I just know that my heart lead me Wed night. I went to a place I generally never go to, but I needed some mommy time to myself. I myself had been struggling with feeling like a bad mom that day. I felt as if time was flying and I was seeing my children’s childhood fleeting before my eyes. I had had a harsh discussion with HG regarding responsibility. Instead my heart was filled briefly with 5 little boys that I feel were put in my life for a reason.
I am still very emotional about that night. I wonder if the children are ok. I would have kept them much to HH’s dismay. He has always said we would have more children if there were ever children that needed us. They needed us. Oh I hope they are safe and ok. Not knowing is horrible. Yesterday I called the hospital to try to get information. Of course nothing could be released. Today I will be going in person. See if they will deny me then.
I am taking this as a lesson of gratitude. I am grateful that I had the opportunity to be there. I am grateful that she will hopefully get the help she needs. Not that I would want her children returned to her don’t get me wrong. I just hope that this is a wake up call for her. I am grateful that my children are safe, healthy and happy. I a grateful that their mommy could step out of her comfort zone to help another child. I am grateful that I didn’t think and rationalize…..now. But most of all I am grateful that they are receiving help and hopefully on to a better, healthier and loving future.

**WARNING** THIS IS NOT A NORMAL ENTRY FOR ME. I AM MERELY SORTING OUT MY OWN FEELINGS ON THIS MATTER. I NEED A PLACE TO DO IT AND I AM DOING IT HERE.

I have been going through a “trial” per say with a friend. He has sole custody of his son. The mother of his son is seeing her son two days a week through supervised visitation only. It has been a terrible situation.
Three years ago they met on line. There was an instant attraction. They met and fell madly in love. Just weeks after meeting she moved into his home. A few months later he was shocked when a man showed up at his door with three children asking when his wife was coming home. He asked her to move out because of the obvious. It was at that point that she told him she was pregnant. Feeling very trapped he decided to let her stay. They discussed everything from adoption to abortion. He is 36 years old and never been married. Discussing abortion was appalling to him because this was his one chance to be a father. They decided on an abortion because things were not going well between them and he did not want to marry her at that point.
The day of the doctor’s appointment she had the “abortion”. Amazingly enough 3 months later she was still pregnant. The “gentle” abortion had not taken. She was in fact due in October. Trying to work things through she filed for a divorce from her first husband, left her children to start a new life. Her ex husband ran as fast as he could to Canada. According to him and her family (minus her father) she is a psycho case and needed her head examined. She was therapy wise though. This was going to be an uphill battle.
After giving birth to their son they still worked through their problems until their son was 6 months old. They got into a heated argument where my friend called 911 to protect himself from her. He needed help. The first officer on the scene saw her to be emotionally shaken with their baby in tow. When she re-emerged from his home (he was outside with the other officer) she came out with bruising and her suitcases packed. She played it off as he beat her. He was arrested on the spot. She having no place to go stayed in his home until he was released and then she fled. After a week of not being able to locate her she was found 30 miles away being sheltered by church members. Immediately he began proceedings to see his son.
Last year he was awarded sole custody of his son (even with criminal charges pending and his mother dying) with her being able to have supervised visitation only 4 hours a week. It was suggested that she threatened the child advocate. Their son was removed from her in an emergency setting. Later he went on to the criminal case where a jury found him “not guilty” within a matter of minutes claiming that they felt she did in fact self inflict.
She went on to get a new boyfriend and canceled weekend visitation because it interfered with her weekend activities. (this being said in court and not a biased opinion) Also she could not afford to see him. The cost of supervised visits were too great for her. $100 a week. (personally I would have gone into hawk before I canceled anything but I am me and she is who she is)
In the meantime she connected back up with her children. They had been through therapy because of the circumstances of her “abandoning” them. She also went to go get her things out of storage two times out of storage NEVER did stop and see her three children. She was within 15 minutes of them. She never bothered to stop.
Last month she again took him to court to try to get full custody. (there should be a law against taking someone to court 3 times in one year for the same thing) She is not even out of therapy or supervised visits. He has had full custody for almost two years of little guys 21/2 year life. Why would the courts move a child at this point? Last month I went to observe the hearing. The courts decided that it was time for her to move from supervised to monitored and then to unsupervised with a Parenting Coordinator. Of course this sent D (the father) almost to the brink of insanity. See, she has a big problem. She has been diagnosed as antisocial narcissistic. This is very serious. When she could not see her children the times she went to Canada it was because her boyfriend did not want to stop and she had to get back for work. Um…ok. She puts blame on everyone else but herself. She herself is always blameless. Her mother being a therapist warned the courts of this quality as well. HER OWN MOTHER! She also wants to appear as the good guy. This fight is not about the baby. This fight is about her need to be shown in a good light. If it were about the baby she would gather up her other three children, and then fight for her son.
This being said she does not make any attempt except calling her children once or twice a month. Yet she doesn’t miss her visitation. She told her daughter that it was because he was a boy and she was a girl. The truth hurts I guess.
Little guy is in the best day care there is in the city. He is loved and provided for. His father has spent over 100,000 trying to keep his son and tomorrow a decision will be made by someone in the court system that has talked with both parents two times now. He is more than likely going to reverse everything and move forward with 50/50 custody.
Since going through this D has been hammered by the visitation center. (I was privy to those conversations and was shocked at how they treated him) The women at the center are angry because they have gotten to “know” her. Poor her. He has been told that he would pay for her therapy. (now how on God’s green earth is that right?) He drives 40 miles two days a week so she would not be put out and can see her son. He also receives 600 a month for child support of which had to be garnished from her wages because she would not pay until her daddy bailed her out and did a lump sum. This only partially covers the 1,000 a month he pays for day care. He has paid over 100,000 for the 5 court hearings and one criminal trial. He was told to pay her lawyer fees even though she lost in court. Where is the justice for him and his son? I am ticked. Why would the courts intentionally put a child back into a known bad situation? And one is to wonder why people leave our country and take their children? (obviously this won’t be happening but it does make me wonder)
How is that right? Especially at this point. I mean I understand that she has a right to her child really I do. I am an advocate for women. This is bothersome to me. I keep having nightmares of the woman she sent her children into the lake or the one that drowned her children in the bath tub.
I love N. He is a wonderful, intelligent child. He is a joy. I hate to see what this will do to him as time goes on. I hate the thought of him being ruined in any way.
What is in the best interest of N? It you were to look on the surface one would think 50/50 with her as primary. If you know the rest of the story and observe the hatred you know that they will never have a co parenting relationship. There will never be resolution. Yes, N does need to get to know his mother. Yes, N does need a mother figure in his life especially when his loving grandmother recently passed away with breast cancer.
Yet I ask myself again, what is in the best interest of N? I wish I knew. I know that this stressful life he has come to know is not in his best interest. I know that the insanity has got to stop somewhere but when will that be? The answer….never. Not as long as the court system switches judges every single time they go in. (which is about every three months) I understand fighting for your child and I give her credit for that but should not the battle be fought by first taking advantage of the time the court has given a person?
This has never been about N. At least where she is concerned. This has been about revenge. He made her look bad and embarrassed her by having the police come to her church and physically take the baby from her arms. (I can not even imagine that experience) The courts have observed her as a bad mother and she’s out to prove them wrong. She is not to blame for this of course. Her choices are not her choices. They all relate back to her past and how haunted that was.
But the question still remains…what about N?

Years ago my great grandmother lived in Switzerland. She was born and raised there. She lived there with her 4 brothers, mother and father. She had a beautiful home with gorgeous gardens. Her favorite flowers were the lilacs that grew in the front of her yard. They had been there for generations and were as much a family heirloom as their home.
Her favorite brother moved to America. A place of promise. He moved to Ohio. His wife was having her second child when Alvina (my great grandmother) went to help take care of her and the children. It was there at a church meeting she met my great grandfather.
Her parents were shocked that she decided to stay. They begged her to come back for she had a suitor in her home town that was never quite ready to commit but he all of a sudden was motivated. She declined and stayed to marry my great grandfather.
As a wedding gift her parents came over for the wedding. They hand carried slips of the lilac bushes out front. Being that they were her favorite they knew that she would enjoy them in her new and big home that her husband was building.
The first year they had a dug out. Well it was not really a dug out even though they called it that. It was really the basement of a very large home. See my grandfather had great hopes that they would have many workers and their farm would be prosperous. They lived there all winter while they fired bricks for the next story. The next year they added the first floor. Being ever so motivated they fired bricks all winter again to then add another story and an attic the next year. All together the basement had like 10 rooms. The main floor had a kitchen, parlor, farm hand eating area, washroom, bathroom, mudroom…etc. The upstairs had 5 bedrooms and the attic was storage. The place was huge.
The first year at the new place my grandmother started those slips of lilacs in her garden. The second year the blizzard was so intense she thought she would lose the precious little plants that reminded her of her home in Switzerland. She did not. They were as hearty as the woman that planted them there.
Last week my parents went to the farm. It is still standing. The hearty lilacs now decorate the dirt road in front of the home my great grandfather built. My mother decided to take a few slips of the past and pass them on. I now am a proud owner of three tiny slips of a lilac bush that has seen many generations of my family. Hopefully it will see many more.

This morning in his favorite place snuggled between his parents Ben passed away. Who is Ben you may ask? Ben is the 6 year old little boy that lives next door to the Genuine household. He and his sister are best buddies with Genuine Niece and Nephew. From the previous entry you may know that Genuine Niece and Nephew and Hula Girl are at Nana’s house for the week.
My heart breaks for the family. He was such a happy and wonderful child. I can not even imagine how Genuine Niece and Nephew are going to react when they find out their playmate has died. What a horrible thing to have to explain to a 6 and 5 year old. I am so sorry that the Genuines have to have this conversation with them. Life just seems so unfair at times.
You can read all about Ben and his family on Genuine’s blog.

I was watching A Baby Story this morning and was struck by a memory. Actually it was a thought I had with both of our children. It was the overwhelming yet wonderful thought that the last day was it. I would not return to our home the same person. I would be a mother of one…a mother of two. That responsibility and that gift was something that touched the deepest part of me. I know that sounds ridiculous and simplistic but for me…it was wonderful.
My children are gifts. I am thankful that my life has not been the same. They have opened up a piece of my heart I did not know existed. I thank Him every day for that.

I was reading over at This Mom’s Blog a few days ago about her lost love and how that influenced her future. I got to thinking about my past and how my past definitely changed my future. I had to take a complete different path.
In high school I had a steady boyfriend. We went together until the second semester of his freshman year. Needless to say it was not going to work no matter how hard we tried.
While I was working through those feelings I met Scott. Scott was a delight. He was wonderful, bright, handsome, intelligent, quirky with a little bit of bad boy. It was just the right combination for me. We had a flaming romance. Within two months of being together he asked me to marry him and I said “But of course!” I was playing in a band at that time. We just did the local scene. It was a busy life. The night before we were to play at the Paramount he decided to go out and celebrate with some friends. We were a cover band that was actually starting to make it. He was excited. He was the guitarist so of course his big break was on the horizon he just knew it.
Anyone who knows me knows that I don’t have an issue with alcohol with moderation but I have flashbacks of this night when I see someone drunk beyond reason.
He called me to tell me that he was going out. I asked him to be careful and have fun. We said, “I love you” to each other just like any other day. At around midnight he called me to ask me for a ride. He was drunk and quite flirty. I asked him to take a cab or call his parents. Then I offered to call them for him. My car was on the blink. He told me not to worry and then he caught a ride with his friend. That ride ended about 20 minutes after the flirty drunken conversation. He was gone. While driving on the highway his friend had an altercation with a bus. They figured his friend was going about 90 and lost control. They were all killed on impact.
I did not ever feel my heart would recover. I felt lost without him. When I received the call from his mother I physically got sick. I could have saved him from such a death. It was not to be. He was destined to be a shooting energetic passionate spark. He had done more in his 19 years of life than I could have imagined.
One year later I picked up the phone on a whim and called an old friend. His sister answered and gave me the update on his life. He had moved to Florida and was in the military. We started talking and from there it took off. We fell in love long distance without seeing each other very often or for that matter for years. He listened with a loving ear and was always supportive. The person that helped me pick up the pieces of my shattered heart was none other than Hula Hubby. Almost six years after getting back in contact we were married.
I find it interesting that life can take such a turn in just one moment. One choice can alter the rest of your life. There are days like today when I think about Scott and my heart hurts just a little bit. I do not know whether the pain is from the guilt how I could have avoided the inevitable or if it is from a lost love and unfinished business. May be it is because I did not get to say a proper goodbye. I don’t know. All I know is that his death paved a path to Hula Hubby. I can not be sorry about that miracle.

As I sat spellbound I was taken back to my childhood….
I grew up in a house where we did not own a TV. Occasionally (like three times) they would rent a TV. One was for “The Wizard Of Oz” (my sister did not come out of her closet for an hour for fear of the green witch) and the other was for “The Sound Of Music”. So basically I grew up my whole life around reading.
When I was around 9 years old my parents gave me “The Lion The Witch And The Wardrobe”. I was captured inside my thoughts that such a world could exist even if it was the creation of someone’s imagination. I read and reread the whole series. I probably read the series once a year. I enjoyed fantasy books and in the crowd my parents ran in there were not many fantasy books available.
My imagination painted the pictures of these four ordinary children being placed in a huge house where they did not know anyone. I pretended I was Lucy. I was captured by what a fawn might look like and how a beaver might talk. In my mind’s eye I was in awe of what Aslan might look like and how the dark side of the creatures might look.
When the children went into battle my heart would race. The faster it would race the faster I would read. I could feel the anticipation of the army waiting to attack, I could see the White Witch attack and secretly wish her to lose and be thrilled at the victory.
We took Hula Girl (Hula Boy stayed with Sashoo) to see the movie a few weeks ago. All through the movie she had questions. I barely got to see it because I wanted to make sure she was OK with what she saw. We have never taken her to see something like this so this time it was not about me. Yesterday was all about me.
I went alone yesterday to go see it.
At first I felt a little foolish going to see a movie by myself but as the plot thickened I anticipated seeing my childhood imagination come to life. I am not too old to admit that it certainly did. I became less self conscious.
As the ground work was carefully put into place I noticed that it followed quite close to the book. Normally I am not an advocate of books being made into movies but in this case…it was magical.
I felt myself transported back to my childhood, sitting in my room reading my beloved books. I felt the anxious feeling of the children being chased by the wolves. I still cried as Aslan was being shaved and killed. I felt that familiar race of my heart when the horn sounded for the war to begin. I was mystified by how the breath of a lion could bring the frozen army to life. Needless to say there was a standing ovation in the movie theater. It brought me out of my memories and into the present. Rarely does something take me so completely back. Back to a more innocent time where I sat in my room that could be made into anything I could dream. An imagination so active that I would leave this world and enter the painted pages of a book.

**addendum added to thank Mrs. Kendall my 3rd grade teacher for convincing my parents that this series was not evil. Smooches to her. She saw that this series of books were not only for boys but also for girls.

For Christmas Hula Hubby decided that he was going to build Lincoln Logs for our Genuine Nephew. As he was going along the set became bigger and bigger. Along with the set he wrote and is enclosing this note. For some reason it just makes me smile clear down to my toes when I read it!

“My grandfather made Lincoln Logs for all the grandchildren in the family along with 100’s of other children who passed through his life. Every couple years he would add to our set so by the time I was a teenager the set my brother and I had was capable of making some pretty extravagant structures. I always cherished the Lincoln Logs as they were something my grandfather took the time to make. I have many childhood memories of building and playing with them. Since my grandfather has passed away I have taken to making them for the next generation. The first set I made was several years ago for Hula Nephew. This year I am making a set for Genuine Nephew, nieces Findland Niece and Paris Niece along with several other sets for the families that opened up their homes to my family as we spent time in Europe this last year.

Hopefully in the midst of electronic toys and video games the next generation of children will continue to enjoy playing with a simple set of Lincoln Logs that brought me endless hours of enjoyment in my childhood.”

And that folks is number 1,034,988,400 why I love him!