KC is reading!

Yup, I have an emerging reader. He has been reading the titles to the Kipper cartoons that he watches on Sprout for a few months now. I sort of discounted that. Though there are no visual cue to the titles, he has a phenomenal memory and might be able to figure out which episode is playing from the "theme" of the show that night.

But, I was wrong. He really is reading. Last week we were at the post office. I helped him read the sign "please wait for the next available clerk" He amused himself with it greatly and has since, been able to read "please wait here" and "please wait for the next available teller". All variations on a theme but showing that he was looking at words as opposed to rote memorization.

Last night he read a book Hoot Hiss and Howl out loud to Kirsty and I. It is a library book and not a book we ever read before. There are definately pictoral cues that helped on some pages, but not on all.

Today he went to put a CD on for his sister. He noticed from the title of the CD that it wasn't the one she had asked for and asked her if it was OK to listen to "bells" instead of "triangles." OK this is just way cool. He hasn't been 5 more than a couple of months. I am stoked!

Rob is almost a teen

Rob's birthday is June 2nd. That means in a few short days, he will be (gulp) a teenager. Right now this nearly teen thing is sitting awkwardly with him. There is a part of him that most decidedly does not want to give up "kid" stuff and another part of him that is increasingly interested in more teen type pursuits. I find it odd that the same child who likes to watch Dragon Tales with the toddlers, is laughing appreciatively over the fumbling romantic advances in the Harry Potter book we are reading together. (The Half Blood Prince) I've noted Rob's increased interest in the opposite sex and thus I was fairly shocked when I asked what he wanted to do for his birthday. He wanted a family party with a Star Wars theme! LOL OK so, you got it!

Tonight after work I took Chet, Lissa and KC out to buy his gifts from them and decorations and other party "essentials." Chet got him a digital camera to replace the one he lost at camp last summer. Hopefully this one will have a happier fate! KC wanted to get him a baseball style cap with the Patriots logo on it, got that, and Lissa was noncommital. At 2 she is more into sweeping the shelves clear of merchandise, so she settled for Nike socks. Sounds lame but the thing is, Rob is very label conscious. I am not. I am about the best bang for the buck. Which means no name tube sox unless it is a gift. Then, he can get his beloved Nikes. He will be thrilled. We got little Star Wars action figures to decorate the top of the cake. We went to iparty and got star wars streamers and plates and napkins. KC was afraid of one of the scenes on the large plates and said he hoped we wouldn't get that one because he would be too scared to come to the party! Opted for a totally different plate and I know Rob will find that story so funny that it won't matter. KC was dancing around the store with such enthusiasm that everyone there thought we were getting things for HIS party. People asked me when his birthday was and how old he was going to be. I explained he had all ready had his day, he was pumped for his big brother. I love that. I hope my kids are always ready to celebrate with and for each other. That is the best kind of gift.

No Visitors!

Well we have gone from a visit with Kirsty's sister happening this weekend and my mom crashing it (laughing) to no one coming. Mom wisely decided she needed to stay in her state. I sort of get that she may be feeling the need for some "her" time as the care of her husband is very emotionally demanding and taxing. But every time she has been here, something has gone awry at the nursing home---and this was before the more recent terminal diagnosis. I know this is her birthday weekend, but there will be many more times for us to get together with her. He even arranged for her to get flowers today which made me all sniffly when she told me. My mom is in many ways a high maintenance woman. Not financially, but I think mostly emotionally. I am not sure anyone has ever met the standards of what she needs emotionally. But the fact that he thought to have flowers ordered for her in the last months or weeks of his life, touched me deeply.

Kirsty's sister has a bad throat infection so she has rescheduled for June 13th. The kids were very bummed as they were thrilled to have "aunty" time ahead of them. At least it won't be long till we can see each other.

There is lots to do this weekend anyway. Sunday is our wrap up Sunday for the childrens program at church. As one of the new chairs of the Religious Education committee there are a few more responsibilities upon me than just showing up with all my kids! I had thank you notes to write, tomorrow I have gifts to purchase for people who have gone above and beyond for the program, and I need to bake something to bring to the picnic which happens afterwards. I found a new recipe for brownies. It incorporates raspberry preserves and white chocolate chips which sounds like it would be a nice combo. It would be something of a leap of faith to make it though as anything I make with chocolate i can not taste. I am allergic to chocolate and will be miserable for hours if I try to eat any. However I make what people assure me is a wicked good devils food cake so I am thinking I might just try this. I have this thing about trying new recipes. I get really bored doing the same old thing. So though I have a kabillion tried and true recipes, an event happens and I have to research and find something new to do. Plus the kids could help me make it and that is usually fun as well.

Then there is the food shopping and other sundry errands that need to happen of a Saturday. And it is supposed to be sunny at last after 4 days ---- 4 very loooooong days---of rain so I have to get some outside time in for the kids. It'll be fun. Somehow we will get it all done and it will be good.

The List!

Keeping our old victorian house in good repair is a constant work in progress. As our family has grown, my expectations of good repair have also had to readjust. But some things just need doing, larger sized family or no. So this past weekend, one evening I made an inventory of all jobs large and small that we could try to work on over the summer. I think the two largest repairs are putting on a new back storm door (which we did once many years ago so we should clearly be able to accomplish again) and replacing the ceiling tiles in our kitchen. Our present ones are for some reason bowing ominiously. They have been for a few years. They are not getting worse but they are certainly decidedly unattractive and not the most cheerful of conversation starters when someone comes over. There was not a leak so I don't know why they are bowing. My guess is improper installation. In my organized virgo way, I have been researching how to install said tiles. You are supposed to staple them to furring strips. My guess is that part way through the installer decided he didn't need to staple every one and over time, they have begun to loosen from one another.

This will be a big job. Our kitchen is about 15 x 15. Kirsty is not enthusiastic about this but I am spinning it that we will have this cool new skill under our belts. She might be better about the idea now. The day I initially told her she was in recovery from replacing 7 boards on our deck! Timing is not always my strong suit. LOL My boss recently told me I will have an extra day off as a reward for a project well done. I am going to posit to her that we have a long weekend this summer devoted to the ceiling. That gives me time to freeze up some meals as one yucky thing I remember about this job was our lack of ability to use the kitchen as a cooking area. She will remind me about the demands of our vegetable garden, our camping trips, and the other 20 or so things on the "list" from H*ll that I created. But I will prevail. I hope. and if we get the ceiling up, I will post a celebratory pic of its new found glory!

Keep me from Eating!!!

OK I have never considered that I had food issues. Not as in eating too much anyhow. Maybe as in obcessively worrying about my weight when I was a dancer, but not to the point where I was anorexic, or bulimic. I just was always very careful. And all my adult life I have sort of just stayed the same weight, plus or minus about 5 pounds. But folks that could change. I think my "diet tool" has been the fact that we usually have had work at night. You can't fold paper or count combs (our piece work business) and eat. Just flat out can't do it because obviously crumbs in the product or greasy finger marks are a no no, even in the low paying world of piece work. Plus piece work isn't really all that low paying if you are fast. Therefore your fingers need to keep doing what they are supposed to be doing.

But we haven't had work consistantly in about 5 weeks. A couple rush orders here and there, but nothing consistant. We may have an order coming in tomorrow. Goddess I hope so. Because I am going to be like 25 pounds heavier in a month or so if this keeps up! LOL

I am the only one in the family awake in the evenings. I don't watch TV if I don't have piece work, I prefer to read. And when I read, I like to nibble. A lot. OK I like to eat like I haven't seen food in days. . . And I read a lot if I am not working. I used to read 7 books a week in my pre-kid, pre-home schooling mom-pre home biz life. I would curl up every evening and read for about 3 hours. I so don't have that amount of time consistantly anymore. But can you imagine what 3 hours of eating does even inconsistantly?

If there are not tortilla chips in the house I eat saltines. I adore saltines. I can mow through an entire sleeve of saltine crackers. Kirsty says I eat them like a buzz saw. She is probably right! Last night I ate 1/2 of a giant (and I do mean family sized) bag of baby carrots. For crying out loud, Peter Rabbit doesn't eat that many carrots! Today at work someone gave me an awesome salsa and guacamole dip. It was too spicy for her and she thought I might like it. Actually I think she secretly wanted to see my eyes bug out of my head and smoke come out my ears when she gave me the sample. She looked the teensiest bit disappointed when I ate it, loved it and offered to take it off her hands if she really didn't want it. But I accidently left it in the fridge at work which is a good thing for my waistline. Tonite, with crackers, it would have been an orgy. If I have it here at the house when we have work, I would be more likely to use it as the basis of an actual meal which would be much healthier.

Sigh. I am off to brush my teeth. I won't want to eat if I brush my teeth. Well, I will want to, but I will know that i am too lazy to brush my teeth twice in a relatively short period of time.

Co-Sleeping

I really meant to write about all the stuff we did today, but what i find myself thinking about is co-sleeping. Co-sleeping wasn't anything we planned on. In fact, I in my overly anal Virgo way researched the best sleeping options for babies born with addictions. I read about how hospitals in England and Australia use this nifty thing called an Amby which sort of bounces gently up and down as they move. It is sort of a hammocky thing but I could see how it was safe and enfolding and would be great for a preemie as the literature said. We bought one and brought it with us to Chicago for KC. It was great as far as a sleeping place for him, and we used it every night there and began using it at home when we returned.

However his milk allergy was not properly nor promptly diagnosed. We repeatedly brought our concern to our Dr but he thought the projectile vomiting and wheezing were a GERD thing that he would grow out of. Wrong. One night he almost choked to death, aspirating his own vomit. Because the nifty Amby held him snugly in the hammock he could not turn himself to even semi-clear the airway. We did of course, leaping out of bed like maniacs, hearts pounding for hours afterward. It was the first night he slept in bed with us. Back to doing research I also found that there was pretty compelling evidence that the risk of SIDS in preemies was reduced by co-sleeping. They tended to match their breathing patterns to the parent they slept with. There was less chance of "forgetting" to breathe, which sounds weird but apparently that is one theory on what happens.

By the time the milk allergy thing was resolved he was a fixture in bed and we all slept so well that we didn't bother doing anything to encourage his sleep elsewhere. He slept through the night so easily, and if he was ill or hungry, it was a cinch to care for him. People looked askance at us but we were okay with that. We love to camp and it was easy to camp with KC. We had a cool air mattress and put him between us. He stayed warm and cozy and loved camping.

A year passed. Two years. KC had zero interest in sleeping on his own. He slept like a puppy does, all sprawled in and around and over his "pack." Our house is very cold in the winter and that compounded the problem. My little heat seeking missile wanted to snuggle on freezing nights and who could blame him. People were really looking askance at us now and I kept trying to make their worries not be my worries. And he really was and still is, such a good sleeper that I felt there was much that was positive to be said for co-sleeping. So much so that when Lissa came, I didn't think twice about co-sleeping with her as well. However Miss Elisabeth had other ideas. She liked her space, likes no noise when she is resting and basically the princess let her loyal subjects know that they were not welcome to sleep with her except on special and rare occasions!

So here we are. KC is 5. And suddenly, he is interested in his own bed. Not his own room, mind you. (laughing) But his own bed. Not every night, but quite a few of them. Sometimes he cries in his sleep and winds up crawling up from the bottom of the bed where his toddler bed is, to our "big bed" and finishing the night with us. But last night he slept ALL NIGHT in his own bed, waking in the morning proud of his accomplishment. He will hasten to assure you if you ask that "it is not as easy as it looks" to sleep in your own bed. So I think that like so many other things in raising kids, they all have their own blooming cycle.

Sunday, Memorial Day weekend

This is the first long weekend I have had in a while. I adore them. I tend to play hard and work hard. The weekend thus far is successfully combining both aspects pretty well. I have finished cleaning the windows, blinds and woodwork in my mom's bedroom (we use it as a spare bedroom now but it has always been "her" room) I have hung new curtains in there and warned her about that change via phone. She seemed okay with it on the phone. When she sees them, who knows. Not that they are ugly; but they are different and increasingly change is hard for her. But her old curtains were more than 20 years old and looked every blessed year of it. Ugly would be too kind a word for them. LOL I now have only 2 more rooms downstairs and then I can start the upstairs windows. Those are a bit easier. There are fewer of them and the windows are slightly (emphasis on slightly) easier to manipulate.

There has been time to play in the yard with the kids. Time to plant at the cemetary. Time to take the kids to the park and time to worship together at church. I surprised myself by being rather (for me) overly emotional during the service. It was in some respects what one might call "typical Memorial Day". The focus was primarily on the loss of the lives of service men and women. The minister this Sunday is a veteren herself. Her reading to launch the service was from a collection of letters written by young enlisted men and women who did not make it home. The first two letters were from the Vietnam war, the second two from the Iraq war. Aside from the ages of the writers (all were 19) there were striking similarities in the way they viewed their war experiences. But I couldn't stop crying as she read the letters. Brimming with that confidence that they would survive. Filled with dreams for futures they never had, the words struck a deep chord in me. Part of it may be because I remember feeling immortal at 19. I am waaaaaaaay beyond 19 now and life is more fragile and cherished to me as an older adult, as a parent, than it ever was in the days of my early adulthood.

Part of it is also because several young people at the complex where I work are signing up and enlisting. Where only a year or so ago, the military was having a hard time meeting its recruitment quotas, the economy has changed that all up. They can be choosier again (previously slight blemishes in education or some run ins with the law were not likely to disqualify; now it might) The kids I know who have enlisted have done so because of the economy. They can't afford college and aren't gifted enough scholastically or athletically to be winning any scholarships. One wants to be a mechanic and hopes that his time in the military will be spent working on their heavy equipment. It likely will, in Iraq or Afganistan and the thought of it makes me shudder. I don't want to have one of those letters be his someday. But he knows that if he doesn't enlist, his only opportunities are really minimum wage, service type jobs. He has seen how this has worked in his family and wants more. Who can blame him? I just wish there was a less risky way to strive for that 'something better.'

After she read the four letters, our minister announced we would now sing our second hymn. The hymn was "Spirit Of Life". Totally appropriate, but I couldn't sing a note, even though I know the song so well a hymnal is superfluous. When I cry, I can't sing. Period. So I just stood there, rocking Lissa, wiping tears. Quietly, Lissa sang the last line of the hymn herself. I was stunned. I know I sing this particular song to her fairly frequently, but there was something so special about her deciding just then to show that she knew the words. "Roots hold me close, wings set me free, Spirit of Life, come to me, come to me."

I love this picture of Elisabeth! A friend at church snapped it when both she and I were unawares. She looks uncharacteristically pensive.

This face is the look that Lissa bestowed on a child at the park tonight! We were up there messing around and Lissa started playing with a little 3 year old girl. Although there were differences in language development because they are a year apart, Lissa was actually exactly the same height as the girl she was playing with. And she was also able to do all the things her little friend was doing. However one such activity looked like it should be called "let's have a trip to ER" so I said to Lissa "please be careful honey; we don't want any owies." The little friend looks over at Lissa and says "only big girls can do this." Lissa laughs and announces she is a big girl. Her friend tells her she isn't. Lissa repeats her assertion with more vigor. Little friend says no she is a baby. Lissa then says "me no baby" and stomps off to the slide where she stood and gave the above glare to the little girl. We call this her basilisk look! It cracked me up though. She is so sure she is a big kid all ready. BTW this picture was from January, but the look, the look was totally what she did tonight!

A visit from Mom?

OK don't get me wrong. I love my mother dearly. But at the best of times, she is um, high maintenance. Now, with her husband failing, and with some health issues of her own, that has racheted up. Added to that, she has that "older person" idea of what a home should look like. And my home is the family home as in the family homestead with all the history that entails and the unspoken weight of carrying things on there in an acceptable manner. Trust me when I tell you my house rarely looks in an acceptable manner! I can't keep grass growing in the back yard. It does not survive dogs and children. (I have had it sodded twice!) My house is cluttered often (maybe that should say always?) and not ever as neat or clean as I know my mom would deem proper. We do not live in filth and squalor but we are not ads for June Cleaver's house either. 4 kids and a dog and a cat run through my house daily. We work and play and it has always been more important to me that we do things together than that we look perfect.

Unless my mom is coming to visit. We really did up Mothers Day for my mom this year. We always do something, but this year we knew she needed a bit of an emotional lift so we did a bit more. Mom wrote to me about a week or so ago and said "don't worry about doing anything for my birthday. You did so much for Mothers Day." Her birthday is the 29th of this month. I knew there was no way on earth I was really not supposed to do anything, so I sort of ignored that.

Then last night she wrote and said that she had decided she would like to come visit the 30th. Come in that day stay overnight and leave sometime on Sunday the 31st. Ummmmm, this is doing nothing for her birthday? I of course said she was always welcome. And she is. And I look at my house and now I think maybe I am spending Memorial Day weekend doing some serious Mom prep! I also have our vegetable garden to plant and we had planned to maybe hike one day as well. Kirsty works Saturday till 8 p.m. Hmmmmm. . . stress? What is stress?

Picture of Rob's coming of age ceremony

A friend at church sent us this picture of us with Robbie right before we gave him the candle to light on the altar. Doesn't he look so grown up and handsome? When did he take a step toward becoming a young man? Why do all my children "do" my hair for me when we are sitting anywhere in public so that I look like I style myself in a wind tunnel? Hmmm, burning questions!

Robbie's Coming of Age Pt 2

Because I can't figure out how to add to a draft post I had to break this into installments! Probably just as well anyway. I knew the wkend was busy, but when I started writing it I wondered at how it all sort of fell together. Because there was so much. We live far enough from our church that it takes planning to get our tribe there early in the morning. Also KC can't eat the minute he gets up (unlike the rest of the kids who must see food heading their way within nanoseconds of rising) so we always have to factor in time to stop at Dunkin Donuts and get his bagel. We got to church and found that we had been assigned seats in the front pew directly behind the piano. Um, this was not exactly a primo location for keeping Lissa occupied for the service. She is used to being in the second or third pew where I can let her down on the floor between the pews and she colors or lies quietly etc. Also there were 3 families of coming of agers stuffed in the pews so it was crowded feeling as well. Ugh. However Rob got to sit next to the girl he is sort of interested in and that was nice. It was funny to watch them sort of nudge each other off and on during the service. Robbie's god parents came and I was so happy and grateful. Wendy had been out of state and came back specifically for the service and her husband Greg had committments at their church later in the day but made time to be there for his god son. It truly felt like we encircled Rob with love and hope on that day.

During the service there was a time when each family went up with their youth and handed a candle to them. The youth lit the candle and placed it on the altar and then left the parents to sit up on the dias. Also their mentor helped with the candle lighting. It was beautiful; far more beautiful than I am able to express in words. Rob looked so grown up sitting there. There was no deer in the head lights look. He seemed calm and confident and at ease. Despite the crowding, Elisabeth did well during the service, right up until the soprano soloist stood in front of us and hit a really high note. Then she screamed and put both fingers in her ears! (sigh) I love the song too. She was singing "Defying Gravity" from the musical Wicked and I adore that song. I guess Lissa doesn't share my joy in it though!

We didn't stay for fellowship afterwards. The hall was very crowded which is hard for Chet and also the volume of noise bothers KC as well. So we made our farewells and went home. Rob announced that he needed new sneakers and wanted them just like his g. friends. I told him I didn't know what kind she had. He sort of did the eye roll thing and said I had been sitting right next to her and didn't I notice? LOL First off, I wasn't sitting next to her, HE was, but secondly I was way not watching sneakers! But off we went to Sears to get him sneakers. KC had outgrown his too and i had been putting it off so I got his at the same time. Rob knew exactly which kind of sneakers his friend has so it was a quick choice. I love that. I am so not a dithery shopper. I am all about go in, buy it and get the heck home. I don't like to wander in stores, poke or meander hte mall. Uh uh, no way. KC found light up sneaks so he was thrilled.

We got home and about an hour later I had to take Rob back to church for the wrap up party. He had a blast. I had told him we could only stay till 4 (parents worked the kitchen etc) but a friend agreed to bring him home when it ended at 6:30 so he got the whole experience. I really really had to leave by 4 as we also had 5000 pieces of piece work to complete over the weekend and K was home alone with all the other kids.

Rob's mentor found me at the party and told me how much he has enjoyed getting to know our son. He has been asked to mentor 8 times and always said no until Robbie. I didn't know that and felt really honored. He had some great insights into Rob and how he has matured during this process. He could also see that Rob is a deep thinker and though he is not a talker, the core of him is strong and growing in positive ways.

And best of all, Robbie didn't have to leave at 4 after all as a friend offered to bring him back home so that I could come home and do the things I needed to attend to with/for the rest of the gang.

Robbie comes of age

A busy weekend here. They are all busy pretty much but if you were grading which are really super duper over the top busy--well this would probably win one of those gold statues. This was the culmination of 2 years of work for our son. A journey of both self discovery and of group building, of a friendship with a wonderful man in our church, and a time to learn to express himself a bit more fully.

It started with a trip to our church on Friday late afternoon. I had to leave work early. Our church is about 30 minutes away. While there are church's of this same denomination in closer proximity to our home, there are none that offer the congregational diversity of this church. Not to mention the fact that it is a wonderful cool group of people; so we are more than willing to travel. Before the kids would set off on their initiation weekend we had a ceremony to send them off. Parents and children each held one end of a ribbon and recited a litany to one another. Then the ribbon was cut, symbolically sending our child forth to their weekend of self discovery. Major sniff attack there, but it was beautiful. Also it was easy for me to hold Lissa, cuddle KC and hold a ribbon, leaving K to cut the cord so to speak.

Saturday was filled with errand running, car cleaning, playing with the little kids and then making food that I could leave ready to cook the minute we walked through the door from picking up Robbie. K was working and could not leave early so I would attend the reunification ceremony myself with the kids. But reunifying at 4:30 p.m. meant a service till 5ish and not home till after 5:30. This is also known as the witching hour in our house. The time when wee ones lose their self composure and turn into trolls that have been masquerading as children. Still, KC and Lissa helped me make the pizzas and frost the chocolate cake and roll out the sugar cookies. I knew Rob would be starved, he is a bottomless pit. He adores chocolate cake and home made pizza so it was a good supper. The cookies were mostly for KC who despises chocolate but would still want a dessert. At 4 p.m. we set off for church. We arrived right on time. Rob was grinning, looking decidedly bleary eyed, so I could tell sleep had not been a prime focus for the weekend. Then came the reunion ceremony. Did you know it is possible to tie a knot in two ribbons while holding a 2 year old and cuddling a 5 year old? LOL The good thing about it was that Rob had to help with the knotting and to me, that symbolized what this whole weekend was about. A shift, however subtle in our roles with each other. It was cool. Came home and refereed the witching hour till the pizza finished cooking. If i had known we would actually finish on time, I could have set my stove to cook while we were gone. A very cool feature of this stove. But often such things run late and I didn't want the pizza to burn or dry out or get gross in any way shape or form.

After supper it was time to find our clothes for church the next day. We would have to return to church for 8:30 to rehearse his part in the honoring ceremony that would be the central part of the Sunday service.

Child Services and Child Safety

OK so a few days back I blogged about crappy work things and whined about having to evict a tenant? If I knew how to do those nifty linky things that tech savvy people do on their blogs there would be one here! But I don't, sadly enough and i don't reference back posts often enough that learning is a priority for me. . . but I am rambling.

I kicked out a tenant who needed it. Who deserved it, and who had multiple chances to preserve their tenancy. But I worried at the time about her young child. Said child is right around the age of some of my kids and is cute as a button.

Yesterday child services called me about the now former tenant. I explained in detail, exruciating detail every problem we had. Why? Not because I wanted to screw the former tenant, but because child services had let it spill intentionally or otherwise, that the batterer was sitting there with former tenant and together they were looking for child services to provide housing solutions for them both. I have rarely been so precise in my concerns to an agency. I have rarely had so much hard data to provide but I had reports up the wazoo because we so tried to work with this tenant.

It is not nice to hope that protective services would take a child from a birth parent but I confess that I was hoping that this was going to be done on at least a temporary basis. There was no permanent housing now and the batterer was present and active in the household. Probably due to stupid laws I know nothing about, this didn't happen.

Front page of today's paper in our city was the arrest of batterer and former tenant. He beat her up in a hotel room while she was holding her child. Former tenant was substance impaired. Child is now, at last, in protective services. The batterers "extensive violent history was cited in the newspaper article. But it took a violent act on that little child to have removal take place. I am glad she is safe now though. I hope mom gets help. I hope they can be a family again; but most of all, I want that little child to stay safe.

Robbie's Poem

At Robbie's coming of age retreat last weekend, part of their time was spent writing a poem. It was done in a cool way--at least it is cool if you are 12, a boy and think writing poetry is weird! This would be Rob, incidently! They had a starting phrase like "I am" and had to come up with a word or phrase. Their mentor helped them organize all of their answers into stanzas and voila! A finished piece of poetry that gave interesting flashes into their personalities. At 12, Rob is one of the youngest of the coming of age class. He turns 13 this June but that is actually after the coming of age experience concludes. Thus in some ways, what he has taken away from this experience is not perhaps the deep philosophical type of thing that he might if he was 3 or 4 years older. Frankly, I don't care. I can see how this has helped him to grow and mature. (though when you read the poem you may marvel at the fact that I see maturity!) But there is growth and questioning happening and this is so good. Rob gave me permission to place his poem on my blog and I am honored to be able to do so. For me it totally typlifies that crazy mix of "little kid" and early teen. A mix of silly thoughts and serious concerns, dreams of the future, and just plain hungry boy child thinking of that bottomless pit he calls a stomach. (italics are Robbie's words, the regular print are the starter text the kids were given)

I am Robbie
I am friendly and happy
I wonder about science and fire
I hear siberian tigers roaring and dogs barking
I see light sabers and Johnny Depp
I want more pizza.
I am Robbie.

I am Robbie
I pretend I am a football player for the Patriots
I touch Blake, my dog
I worry about Maui, my cat
I cry when the Patriots lose
I can count on Chet, my brother
I am Robbie.

I am Robbie
I believe dinosaurs are still living
I don't know what would happen without the sun
I am guided by my conscience
I wonder where it is located
I believe in non-violence
I am Robbie.

I am Robbie
I understand why scientific research is needed--
I say it's obvious, to understand our world
I dream about morphing into animals
I try to ignore questions I can not answer
I wish I could help endangered animals
I am Robbie

I am Robbie
I am growing up.
I used to play with a toy military airplane and a toy dinosaur
I loved my cat
Now I can't wait until I can drive a car
I hope to be president of the United States someday
I am Robbie.

Windows into our children's souls are sometimes a lot like fun house mirrors to me. For me, my son's parent for 7 years now, this was one of the clearer visions into the child he is, the man he hopes to be (and geez I hope he learns that dinosaurs really are extinct!) LOL

Of texting and common sense

There was recently a horrible crash of two subway trains in the big city. The trains that crashed were on the line that we travelled to my corporate company outing. It wasn't failed brakes, or a light that turned green when it should have been read. No, instead the operator of the train that rear ended the train in front of it didn't see the train. He was texting his girl friend.

Yup. Texting. As in looking at a screen instead of the train tracks. I can't fathom this. I know I love to read blogs, to keep in contact via the net with friends near and far. To email my mother instead of writing letters or running up my phone bill. But if I owned a cell phone (which I don't) I would not use it when I was driving. I won't even EAT when I am driving for crying out loud. Part of this may be that the majority of my driving is in a car that is standard, but it also just makes sense to me to concentrate on the road and the other idiots--I mean, drivers on the roads. So if I can figure this out in my little car, how can the driver of a big subway train not get it?

Adoption and Mothers Day

There have been a lot of thoughtful posts written about the impact of "mothers day" on kids in adoptive or foster families. We are lucky that our kids totally get into celebrating Mothers Day. Kirsty is convinced it is because I celebrate everything and there may be a nugget of truth there! Every holiday is a big deal in our house. Not as in expensive but big as in fun. As in festive. As in joyful. Because I love those things. And because I think one of the biggest gifts I can give my kids is the ability to just have fun. I don't think Robbie had too many times that were just fun before he came to us. Chet has always had a hard time making friends due to his autism, so it was important to me that fun and celebratory events happen at our home. There he could be Chet, leave when he needed to, and no one was upset. The little kids just love it. KC is totally like me, just loving every celebration and event in life. He has a treasure box where he keeps momentos of things. His string from his St. Pats day celebration, his "birthday boy" pin, his shamrock pin, his mardi gras beads. etc. He looks at them so often and retells the story of what we did then. So in a way, Mothers Day while its focus is on Kirsty, it is also on us as a family. Working together with me at 6 in the morning making special muffins and fruit salad. Painting egg cartons that became a bouquet of the most adorable tulips imaginable. These were a team effort with KC painting, Rob cutting and Lissa carrying the finished product. We hand make our gifts and the kids love crafts. Chet picks violets for the breakfast tray and carries it upstairs. KC follows behind with a tray of gifts. Rob carries the steaming mug of tea and Lissa the aforementioned hand made tulips. It was a procession worthy of note! LOL They all had such fun making it a special day for her. I am grateful for that.

Later I was at church with the kids. K stayed home as we had our piece work to pack and she could do this in a peaceful manner without the bedlam of our children there! (laughing) There were many things about the service that struck me. One was that the focus was on memories. How they are so much more important than anything we can actually own. I know that I would fear a diagnosis of alzheimers more than almost anything else. My memories are my greatest treasure and my greatest joy.

I also know that memories are not always a great joy and that this sad reality is part of what makes the day so hard for some of our kids. But I also wonder if some of the issues of the day are also a fear of losing memories? I know that Robbie still looks at the very first scrapbook I ever made for him. (he has been my child long enough now to have amassed 3 such creations!) I got every picture I could from his social worker. Pictures of foster families, birth family members, siblings, whatever I could glean. I wrote the little that I knew and then eventually moved it into the story of our first meeting and his homecoming. The picture I took of Rob with his brother D when he visited last September has been on our fridge since that date. I can't give him his birth family, but I can keep their faces at least alive in his memory.

The other thing that struck me was the openness with which people shared their stories at what our church calls "joys and sorrows." A young man who is very active in our church stood up. I have known that he was adopted and he and I have talked about the pros and cons of adoption. A year ago I think he was against the idea. This year, I don't think so. He spoke more warmly of his adoptive family and also how he knew essentially nothing about his birth family. He knows the state he was born in, how many siblings he has somewhere, he knows mom was very young when she birthed him and that due to "issues" the state stepped in and the children were placed with adoption. That is the sum total of his knowledge. But he could and did light a candle for her today.

A child who is a member of our church is a foster child. His biological father just died tragically this past weekend.

A mom stood up and shared a more traditional mothers day joy--a book her husband and her daughter made together somehow. It was an amazing book and apparently there are internet resources for making your own book.

My point is the sharings ran the gamut. My kids were sitting there and heard it all. I think the plus is that not only could we support those who shared, but it also made it clear that there are very different families out there. That there is loss and sadness with the joy. And that this was a same place and a safe community for exploring those feelings if they had them, and when they were ready to do so.

Fiona Called

I have not heard from Rob's sister Fiona in ages. At least not by phone. I have had a couple of notes or pictures in response to my weekly cards or brief letters. But she called today. I think it is likely significant that it was Mothers Day weekend that she made the call. We didn't talk about Mothers Day, but it sort of hung there a bit between us. She sounded heavily medicated and said she had been having trouble with peers and they were thinking of moving her to a place with more freedom. Yup like that is a plan. The poor girl decompensates in such a major way every time that they do this. I know a big part of why they keep trying is financial and it makes me cuckoo. But despite the difficulty understanding her (which I kept blaming on a bad phone connection) it was a good call. She didn't want to talk to the kids, just me. She also wanted a gift card to WalMart for summer clothes. I know she gets a clothing allowance but I also know that she knows that this is something parents do. Thus I think the connection between Mothers Day weekend and her call. I told her I would send out a gift card. I'm sure it won't be the hundreds of dollars she may be dreaming that it is, but it will show her in a way she equates, that I do what "mothers" do. They provide, they keep safe. They love. They keep writing banal letters because they are desparately afraid of losing the thread of connection. I am so glad she called.

Rainbows

We have a pretty basic point and shoot digital camera. But I am not sure even with a fancy schmancy SLR type that we could have gotten a better shot. Rainbows are by their nature, such transient gifts!

We had a storm the other night and this rainbow was the gift at sunset. I'd never seen a sunset rainbow before. Actually this was a double rainbow but the double part really isn't visible in any of the shots Kirsty took. Robbie was still up and got to see it with us. KC had fallen asleep and only got to hear about it and see the shots that we took the next day.

I love rainbows. Maybe because they are so very short lived, I don't really know but they seem so magical to me.

Tonight was a magical night at the park too. We go virtually every night that the weather is even remotely pleasant. Today it was better than remotely nice. It was gorgeous. Warm but with a nice breeze.

Who we meet at the park varies a bit from one night to another. There are a few regulars but not always. Tonight it was a lot of new kids and it was fun. A year ago, KC would not have been happy to have new kids to play with but he is so much more outgoing now. And Elisabeth was charging around with a group of kids as well.

It varies too how chatty and friendly the parents are on any given night. My problem is that I can't not strike up a conversation with people. Kirsty is more able to pretend that she is just there in her bubble, but I have to chatter with folks. Sometimes this is a lot of fun and I meet people who are genuinely neat to spend time with. Sometimes it isn't but I am willing to risk it. Tonight was a fun night.

There was a really nice black mom there with her 3 y/o son. He was playing with Elisabeth. The mom was very pregnant and is going to have a little girl in about a month. We talked about the way raising boys and girls is so different, and how intellectually it doesn't seem like it should be, yet it so profoundly is. She liked Elisabeth's name; it was a contender as a middle name for the baby she is carrying. We talked about hair. Her son had the sweetest two strand twists and his hair was long, too. She admired Lissa's hair (whew! inside I was so doing the happy dance!) and we marveled that at 2 she was almost as tall as her 3 y/o.

There was another mom there with 3 children, 2 girls and a little boy. We laughed because her gender breakdown was the opposite of the little crew that I bring to the park. They had their dog with them, an aging but friendly small black pooch--or a woof as Lissa calls all dogs. We enjoyed talking about the way our heads keep swivelling working to keep all 3 of our kids in sight. We laughed, watching KC go charging by playing some imaginary game with her kids. We all laughed when the silly dog climbed the steps up to the slide and then stood there at the top, utterly bemused on what he was supposed to do now that he was there.

My city is not typically all that Norman Rockwellesque. I don't think pretty much anyplace truly is, but tonight came pretty close. I know it was just a respite, coming at a very good time, after a very emotionally challenging week, but it was wonderful!

Maine and gay marriage

Gay marriage is now possible in the state of Maine. I don't live in Maine but we do spend a lot of time there. My mom lives in Maine and though we are "from away" as Mainers say of folks who were not born and bred there, the state has a lot of appeal to my wife and I. It is one of those places where it is possible to find mountains to scale, as well as beautiful beaches. This combines both our passions and my wife has for many years dreamed of the two of us retiring to this lovely state. Though I personally would prefer a warmer clime, I could hack a retirement in Maine. I wouldn't have to sally forth at the crack of dawn to a job and therefore the colder times of winter would be less daunting to me. And I do love to snowshoe, and I love woodstoves. The idea of a log cabin where I had a woodstove to read beside again, sounds quite blissful. A place where I could be as off grid as possible is the ideal. And of course all of this is after I complete my personal retirement dream of hiking the Appalachian Trail from end to end. That is for the first 4 months of my retirement in case y'all are interested. Starts in Springer Mtn GA and ends in Maine on Mt Kathadin. Kirsty has serious foot and ankle problems and can't likely hike the whole thing but may do parts. At this point it is a far from solitary prospect as the kids all want to do it with me! She can meet us at way stations and resupply us and in her spare time, look for our retirement real estate!

But one of the things that has put Kirsty off on really hoping for her Maine retirement has been the fact that if we stay where we are, or go to one of several other states, we are legally married. This is not a status that we want to give up. I don't have to worry any longer about being able to make sure that her wishes are followed in the event of catastrophic illness. I like the fact that she is on my health insurance. I always had the family plan anyway to cover the kids, but she had to work and have "single person" coverage until 2004. I enjoy being able to say that she is my wife and to publicly honor the commitment that we have shared since 1978. Through hell or high water we have been together, been true to one another and honored the vows that we made personally that May.

My mom was sure that the bill would not pass. She is not really the family optimist. I am. I think that some day our marriage will not be unusual and will not be a subject of debate. Gradually I think people are seeing that our relationship and our committment does not threaten heterosexual marriages. And some day, it may not matter where we want to live at all. We will be viewed by society as married anywhere.

Broken Vessels

This has been a sucky week at work. Lots of weird computer issues that serve to graphically indicate that not only am I not uber techno in my abilities, but neither are many MANY people. Including the people who want the data that we are sending. Sigh. At least I communicate when I don't get something. Others don't. Sigh again.

But I digress. Other than serving to probably contribute to early blindness, all the hours spent on the computer are fairly moot. Sort of job security. The other sucky part has been with regard to tenants.

This week I had to evict a mother and child. I hate that. The child is adorable (as all kids are IMHO) and helpless. Mom is likely a substance user who finances her addictions with her body. The issues began to impact other residents and unfortunately as a a landlord, despite numerous efforts, there was no choice left to us. But I know that last night there was a child with no home, and a child with a very unstable situation with regard to the parent.

Yesterday morning I got a call a bit before 9 about a former tenant. She was on the property and was attempting to break into one of the units. The unit in question is rented by someone who was in relationship with her. Former tenant is known to police, who warned me after they asked that I come down that "if things went bad she was known to be extremely physical." I am guessing this was police code for after I served the paper of no trespass to step back. I wasn't particularly worried for my safety. There were two cops and I have 12 years of martial arts training. Former tenant was many sheets to the wind despite the early hour of the day and my guess is I would not have had trouble keeping myself safe. She didn't try to assault me and I kept the conversation firm but kind of compassionate sounding. She was taken into custody to sleep off the booze and hopefully will not return. Again, this was someone who when they lived here seemed to be fulfilling a promise of making a better life. So not. Is definately in a worse place than she was when she first came here years ago. And she is now a mother who does not have custody of her children.

I blogged discreetly months ago about a court case which involved trying to help someone regain custody of her children. Despite all the evidence seeming to indicate that she had really pulled her life together, the ruling ultimately went against my tenant. I had not seen her since that court appearance and saw her for the first time yesterday. The devastation is easy to read on her face. She is clearly holding on by literally fingernails and I worry for her emotional well being. It is clear that she is very depressed and I don't know who to call or even if I am crossing boundaries if I did call someone. There are other issues there that are not bloggable and in fairness to the courts it may be that it took too long for her to become stable for it to be reasonable to reunite the family. I do understand and support (obviously ) the ties that the children and the foster adoptive families made over a considerable period of time. It is possible that the decision was in the child's best interest. It sure wasn't in my tenant's best interest.

Probably the only item of interest is that in all of these situations do not involve people of color. I find that intriguing. It is not because of a lack of diversity in our community. In fact there are more people of color here than anglo. I'm not really going anywhere specific with this. It is just sad situations and collectively they make me sad too.

Of Helicopters and Helping

"Helicopter parents" seem to be the buzz word in our area lately. They are meant to conjure up a group of anxious moms or dads zooming around their kiddos making sure they don't fail. No one wants to be a helicopter parent. No one wants to be accused of failing to let their children learn from the much vaunted natural consequences.

Well, maybe except me. Not that I am a helicopter parent. I really don't perceive that I am. But different kids have different needs and different abilities to learn from and with experiences. KC seems more able to connect the dots and see cause and effect than either Chet or Rob. With Chet's autism, behaviors and appropriate responses are more rote and memorized. He doesn't have social acumen. His abilities to develop are seriously limited and if I intentionally allowed him to put himself in the negative situations, the consequences would likely be that he would not be allowed to participate in areas that have meaning and joy in his life. It is hard to have those venues for him and I am not willing to jeopardize those experiences as I know he feels isolated enough by his differences. And yes, I honestly tried natural consequences. He was banned from the local library for starters. For an avid reader, it was heartbreaking. I understand the reason; but his ability to learn from it was just not there. His take is they don't understand him and they are mean and someone should "wake them up."

Rob's lack of abilities to learn from consequences I think stem in part from his early years in foster care. A plethora of traumatic experiences led him to feel that bad things would just continue to happen to him. I don't think that he believes that so much now. But when faced with a more challenging situation his first inclination is to do a half baked effort. I think it is so that he can say to himself that "he could have done better if he had wanted to try harder." Initially I let him do the half baked jobs, figuring that he would want to improve. Didn't work. I stepped back for a loooooong time and it just didn't work.

So I changed my perspective. I decided it is my job to coach a bit and make him want to try harder . Rob's in a coming of age program and our church. There have been a variety of activities to help the kids explore their values, clarify their spirituality etc. They have had a lot of group building stuff and some fun activities, but also some big ideas to think about.

I have also learned that thinking abstractly doesn't come easily to Rob. Not that he can't--unlike Chet, for instance. But it is just hard. And when left in the hard place he falls into his familiar pattern. First he freezes, can't see a solution, then he goes for half baked. So for instance, when the kids had a mask making activity this fall, he and I did some brain storming. We went to a craft store together (well all the kids and I, which made for enough breaks in the conversation that there was no way Rob could get stressed!) By the end of the trip not only did I have the beginnings of Excedrin Headache #99 but he had managed to decide what things were inside himself that others didn't see from his outer self and find tools to show them on his mask.

Ironically Kirsty thought I was helping too much, but because I am pigheaded (LOL) and because I truly had a gut feeling that I was getting this right, I used the same tactic for each of the other activities that had abstract thinking stuff involved. I haven't seen the results but I have had other adults tell me how well Rob was able to articulate his visions, how focussed he was and best of all, how proud he was of his efforts. I noticed that he was glowing when I would catch up with him at fellowship after service. It was neat.

Also of interest to me was the fact that 2 or 3 of the parents in the class have cornered me and essentially expressed their regret that they hadn't offered more help on occasion to their kids. I said it wasn't really help; we just brainstormed together and I gave him access to craft supplies that could help articulate his visions. He doesn't really like to draw and why limit himself to drawing when he doesn't feel good about it? One mom told me how much her son hates his finished mask and how she wished she had done more to help him slow down. It wasn't that his ideas were bad. But he didn't plan them out and what he tried to do essentially wrecked the mask. When you are the only one with a wrecked mask, it hurts. Her son doesn't have issues of trauma and adoption, but he does have LD issues. My guess is he has enough instances when things feel wrecked. There also have to be enough times in our kids childhoods that they feel good about what they do, what they create and what they share of themselves.

The most recent project was a thank you gift from each child to their mentor. They had to paint and decorate a flower pot with things that are symbolic of their time together. There was a parent meeting from 6:30 to 8 on a week night to discuss the upcoming finale of the year's experience. The suggestion was to bring your child and have them make their pot while you were at the meeting. I know that by 6:30 p.m. the meds that help Rob focus are so not present. He is a fidgety little bug in the evening, unable to concentrate, unable to link thoughts all that effectively. I knew whatever he created would not be representative of how much he has really enjoyed his mentor. I emailed the coordinater and said he couldn't be there and why and he did the pot at home. 5 other kids did the project at home also, so he wasn't alone in this. But 2 of the kids who did it that night had a tough time concentrating and complained to their parents that it just didn't come out the way they wanted it to.

Bottom line, I think I'll keep on keeping on--coaching as unobstrusively as I can to help Rob learn that he has boundless potential and the courage to explore it.

Planning Mothers Day

We have two celebration days in our house--Mothers Day which honors Kirsty and Ooma's Day for me. Otherwise neither of us could really relax and have the day be about us and the kids would be going 6 directions at once and getting stressed.

The kids and I have started planning Mothers Day. KC and I painted egg cartons on Sunday afternoon. They will become a vase of tulips. Really. I promise! I am not sure what to have Robbie work on and I better think quickly. He will be at a high ropes challenge for his coming of age program all Saturday so he won't have the day to work on things as he usually does. Typically he plants out a garden for her but this year, I might have him buy the plants with me on Friday and we can put them in our wagon with a big bow and an explanation of future planting. Chet has all ready made his card and I think Lissa will make a paperweight. The kids also want to get her some jewelry.

We also cook her a special breakfast. This year the tentative menu is fruit salad, orange marmalade buns, yogurt and tea. The cooking is all from scratch and Robbie's home school work for math on Wednesday will be to halve the recipe for me. It is supposed to make 7 pans of rolls and although they look divine even for our family that would be a LOT of rolls! LOL

We also are pressing some violets that are going to be glued onto either a placemat or a card--depends on where their creativity takes them. I love that they get excited about doing things for her, and I love that we have a time to do that and a way to show her how important she is to all of us.

Star Struck!

When we were at the craft store the other day to get supplies for Robbie's project, Lissa spied some star beads. She wanted them for her hair and it seemed like a good idea to me too! Actually when we got it home, only 1/2 of the beads were large holed enough to use for hair. We gave the narrow holed ones to Chet to make jewelry with. She is very proud of this new do. However I have noticed that the beads tend to break the elastics that hold the bottom ones on. Another time I think I would need to use a pony bead at the bottom and put the shaped beads on top.

And they're OFF!

OK I have my perennial problem figuring out how to load pictures. i would love to do it and be able to write near the picture. I would love to have them in the order on the blog that I think I am putting them on in, but alas. Technology and I have a very tenuous truce most of the time. Kirsty says I will probably master this when I learn how to turn on our television. She is most likely right. We had a blast today. The morning was very busy. We had to go to the post office to mail May baskets up to my mom, to the bank and then to a nearby town to a math and literacy fair. A friend of mine who is a teacher in a preschool program for disadvantaged youth was going to be there and invited us to come. There was so much to do and the kids had a blast. Well maybe not Rob, but he was good about it. They planted seeds, used home made playdough to make the shapes of letters, did some math games, listened to music, had a snack, made a musical instrument and entered a raffle for free! Truly, it was all good. I saw former residents of the apt complex that I work at and got to catch up with them a bit. From there we went and did our grocery shopping and went to the nearby Big Lots for some new curtains, welcome gifts for my niece's new baby boy and headphones for my eldest. Then we went to the craft store for supplies Robbie needed. He has to decorate a flower pot as a thank you gift to the fellow who has been his coming of age mentor at church this past year. The pot has to be decorated in such a way that it reflects something of their interests either separate or mutual, and what Rob got from the experience. Rob has a hard time translating thoughts like that into a symbol so it took a bit of time but we eventually came away with some good things to work with. From there it was the weekly trek to the library and then home. We have a good system for unloading the car, letting out the dog, and putting groceries away while I get lunch started. Lunch tends to be pretty big as they have been out all morning. (today it was egg and cheese lavash rollups with baby carrots, and cupcakes for dessert.) OK that is not gigantic but it is a hot, cooked meal which is what I think I was trying to say.

While Lissa napped the two middle boys helped me decorate the hats. We purchased the bodies of the hats at the craft store while we were searching for Robbie's things. Also some artificial flowers to make them true "Derby" hats. We never had time to make lemonade pie though. Had to settle for making lemonade and ordering pizza. I tend to pack a lot into a day but to somehow think that the 24 hours in the day are all free to me to use! Um, reality check, not so!!

Kirsty got home in time for the race. No one we chose won but it was a fun race to watch. And better yet, no horse was injured as in 2 previous years there have been sad and soboring racing injuries.

When you look at the hat pictures, what cracks me up is that Robbie was initially very pre-teen 'blase' about the whole thing. But once he had the shell of his hat, he went to town decorating it. Kirsty was at work so I made her hat for her. You can see Lissa and Chet in the next shot. Chet appropriately has a pink kitty hat. He adores the color pink and this was zany enough for him to buy into a family fun time. KC and I are in a shot together. You can see how over the top excited the whole day had gotten him.

So that was Derby day in our little corner of the world. Far away from Churchill Downs but very enjoyable none the less.

Derby Day is nearly here!

Anyone who has subjected themselves to my blog for any period of time knows that I am all about celebrating. I have never needed those funky calendars that give you the dates of festivals from other cultures and countries. I can pretty much fill all the dates on my own! LOL

Saturday is the running of the Kentucky Derby, the first horse race of the famous Triple Crown. I am not a gambler. None of my fascination with the Derby has anything to do with handicapping the race. It is all about the horses. I have loved horses every since I can remember. I loved riding; there are pictures of me riding the first time when I was only 2 1/2 or something. They had to hold me on the horse but the family story is that I totally refused the pony and would only sit on the big white horse. If it wasn't for the fact that my mom has a nearly preternatural terror of horses, I would think she was an indulgent parent who made up the story. I tend to believe it though, because she spent most of her time trying to convince me not to ride.

Thankfully, I was blessed with indulgent grandparents who paid for lessons. And with a horse farm within a hefty bike ride of the cottage where we lived each summer. I would bike up to there and sit on the fence watching. Just watching. And at days end, any unexercised horse could be ridden by yours truly. For free. It was bliss.

I lived breathed, drew and dreamed horses. I decided that I was going to be the first female jockey and that not only that, I would win the Kentucky Derby. (See if you bear with me long enough there tends to be a point most times) It might have worked, except that I suddenly around age 10 or 11 shot up and became tall. Ever look at jockeys? They are wee things. And sparrows weigh more than most jockeys.

Suddenly I was no longer just under 5 ft. I was 5 ft 6 and my dream was dead. Kaput. Gonzo. Mom probably did the dance of joy. I was petty enough to point out that it pretty much guaranteed I was not going to be a prima ballerina for a big ballet company. (I come from a family of dancers and this was the dream my mother and aunt cherished for me). Ballerinas tend to be wee sparrows too! I told them I could still breed horses, maybe train horses, work in stables. . . but the truth was, I really REALLY wanted to be a jockey and that was now a fading possibility.

But despite watching my dream fade, I never lost my love of watching the Triple Crown races. A joy that thankfully my children share with me. I am not sure whether it is the contagious enthusiasm of their Ooma screaming and shrieking when the race is on, or my re-telling the stories of the Triple Crown winners I have seen, but we all love it. We even (gasp) eat in the living room on Derby night. Trust me, I don't do eating in the living room as a general rule. And almost never in front of the TV. But Derby night is different. I don't know what we will eat while we pretend we are sitting at the posh race. I am thinking raspberry iced tea and lemonade with mint sprigs. Or I was thinking that till I heard about lemonade pie which sounds pretty darn neat too! When we do errands tomorrow i am going to see if I can find some silly hats at the second hand store and we can decorate them and look like those posh southern belles. . . I am not sure what the boys will decorate theirs with but no doubt their unique creativity could turn it into something hysterical. Whatever we do, it will be fun.