Wednesday...you bastard

Lately, I have begun to hate Wednesdays. Two days out from Jon's one day off and two and a half days from our next day off.  On Wednesday everything seems worse...even if it isn't...even if it is...it gets worse. Maybe, it is how much Jon has been working...maybe it has been my anxiety regarding Iris and being tired...all rolled into one. I am so thankful that Jon is working, but I really wanted him to stay home today. Iris was awake most of the night and we took two shifts to be with her when her tummy was hurting. Part of me hoped this would ensure that I would have some adult company today.

Nope.

Oh well, that is part of being an adult.

I keep asking myself the what if question regarding Iris...what if her doctor's are not correct? I realized that I had the lingering fear and it came from remembering Jon's childhood friend Seth who went in for surgery to drain polyps and came out with most of his intestines gone and a diagnosis of colon cancer. He died six months later at age 25.  

Most of the time I am logical. But Wednesday has its own voodoo magic.

I almost censored my blog title because I know my mom is reading this...but really, Lorie...there is no better descriptive word for this Wednesday. haha.

I feel ridiculous complaining. But we all have to once in a while, even if what is going on in my life is so much smaller then in the lives of my friend's and family.

I need a vacation.

We love Osteoid Osteomas!

My stomach is now back down where it should be...out of my throat.

What a relief to hear that Iris has an Osteoid Osteoma. I mean...of course, it would be better if she had nothing...but she does. A benign tumor.

While I had known this was most likely the case...the anxiety was a killer.

What is the next plan? Well, I tried to call the doctor's office after Jon told me the official MRI results...but they closed at 3 pm! We have to get a referral from them to a doctor in Spokane that has more experience with Osteoids in this part of the leg and with larger ones, which Iris has. Unfortunately, they won't be able to do the simple procedure because of the size of the growth and will have to scoop it out and perform a bone graft.
This is where Jon said to me, "Don't google that". Apparently, this is still an outpatient procedure...something that will be scheduled either next week or the week following. Personally, I hope it isn't next week as next week is the last week of preschool for Iris...which she loves.

Big sigh of relief from this mama.

Holding on lightly

Sometimes you are reminded that when you have a lot, you have a lot to lose. Does that make sense? Every so often I have events in my life that rock my boat just a little too much for my liking. These usually end up being reminders of how little control I or we have in this life, and how scary that can be as a parent. This past year I have seen former high school classmates struggle with a variety of losses...two in particular...one losing a spouse unexpectedly and the other being diagnosed with an aggressive cancer. Oddly enough, I had had a conversation with the one about the other's diagnosis which led us to discuss how fragile human life is...then she lost her husband. It has been strange to think back on our conversation and then realize that that fragility visited her house not long after.

Last summer, Sevrin had really bad stomach pains and many, many symptoms of Crohn's disease. I was terrified. I have two cousins with Crohn's disease and know just how hard it has been for them. I Googled WAY too much and was convinced he had this illness. Even the doctor was concerned and a scope was arranged. Thankfully, he didn't have Crohn's...he had reflux. But the "what ifs" killed me.

So tomorrow my little Iris is having an MRI on her left leg to better diagnose what she has going on there. This time I have managed my fears and except for a brief moment yesterday where I felt I would be sick to my stomach have managed a low grade level of anxiety. Her x-rays on Monday showed some sort of abnormality on her femur...the doctor thinks it is an easily treatable benign tumor called an Osteoid Osteoma...and I hope he is right. I made the mistake of poking around on the internet yesterday and found that it also has similar symptoms to Osteosarcoma. This would be the point where I almost lost my lunch. I know that I probably won't hear something tomorrow...since it is Friday. I know that I have worried myself sick in the past and found nothing or been pleased to have a child diagnosed with a lesser illness.

What if?

I recognize that we don't always get to dodge the bullets of life. I know from experience and from seeing my friend's over the past year that bad things DO happen to good people. No, I don't believe it is God's will...I can imagine nothing crueler then telling a person it is God's will that they have cancer or they have lost a spouse or their child has cancer. Nothing worse then the platitude, "God doesn't give us more then we can handle". Because yes, God or life...or whatever is out there...can throw some speed balls.

So while chances are that Iris will have this benign tumor...it brings pause to me. What if she didn't have a benign tumor? People aren't born able to deal with those things. People talk in glowing terms about how well a person is dealing with x, y, z...they aren't doing well...they are just doing, just being.

Last night, I regretted loving so much a little bit.

It is official

Today, being Wednesday, April 13, 2011 I declare myself to officially be taking a vacation day. Not my poor husband of course. I, however, am going to sit around all afternoon...except for when chasing Isla around is necessary...and watch shows on-line. I will also cook pizza from Safeway and not require anyone to do any chores. Including myself.

Signed,

The Mother in Charge

Blah, blah, blah

While dropping Iris off at preschool this morning I had a train of thought that I wanted to write about and now it has completely escaped me. Apparently, I look as grumpy or tired as I feel...an old neighbor walked in and gave me a squeeze...I said, "Oh, Trent needs a hug", he said, "No, you need a hug." haha. Another person asked me if I was okay. I asked if I could go to preschool today. Crafts. Snacks. Books.

I guess I look grumpy. I don't know that I feel grumpy. I just feel tired. Have I said that already? Sometimes being an adult is tiring. I will take this sort of tired which comes from Jon being gone most of the time working rather then the worry of not having enough work that we had about a month ago. Still. Sometimes it is all overwhelming. This is the time of the year when we push the pedal to the medal and have to make our entire year's income during the next 7 or 8 months. Add to that Jon is still working 20 hours a week at the University of Idaho...uff da. That will only last until next month though and start again at the end of August. I am thankful for a husband that works so hard even if that includes digging in the mud and hauling gravel.

I have found myself again thinking of owning our own house again. Yet, I look at our student loans, with payments that equal a monthly mortgage and I feel it will never happen. It isn't that I believe a home is necessary for happiness. I just want that stability. I wish the owners of the house we are renting would just keep renting to us...but I have an inkling that she may in fact want to move back into it herself! This house has a lot  more space then their other house and is a much better location for children. Whatever happens, we can't afford to buy this or any other house at this point. I hate that I am already thinking of when this lease ends in October and hoping that they honor their agreement to allow us to sign another lease. I hate thinking of what if we can't find a rental in the same school zone as we are currently in, I don't want them to switch schools again.

So this post is not very creative, funny or as elevated as the thoughts that ran away from me this morning.

Today is Spring

Finally. Aside from a beautiful day several weeks ago, spring has been alluding the Palouse. Jon had to leave for work at 7:30 this morning so I had the chance to walk Lemon and the kids to school, and then the girls and I walked to Co-op Kids which was meeting at Friendship Square. I had nearly talked myself into skipping our usual Tuesday outing but am glad I didn't. I ran into four or five people I hadn't seen for a while at the Food Co-op, caught up, cooed over cute babies and redeemed my free coffee before beating feet over to Friendship Square. I had a good time chatting with other moms and hearing about what is going on in others lives in my community. This is what I love about Moscow.

There is a community and it is here.

Last night my neighbor across the street Allison brought over some Taco Salad...unfortunately, we had already eaten but Jon devoured it after work. I love knowing the people I live near. I love that she brought something over to us. I still owe her for the paprika I borrowed a while ago, which started a conversation with us wondering what paprika was really doing for my recipe anyway? Paprika...confusing...yet alluring. Is it the color? We don't know. I was a little embarrassed at the mess my house was in...Jon was at work, dinner dishes were piled next to the sink and the kids were spread out doing homework. Have I mentioned they clean businesses professionally for a living? And her house is SPOTLESS?

I am picking the kids up from school early to go to a dentist appointment at 1 pm for the four older kids. Maybe we will go to a park afterwards, since it looks like it will be warm enough.

Iris has an appointment scheduled next Monday with the Orthopedic Surgeon and I am successfully muffling any unspoken fears I have with the knowledge that it is highly unlikely to be the C-word...but still...you know. Being a parent is scary.

An old high school friend of mine, Jessica Webster, has entered the hospital today for what will hopefully be the end of her battle with an aggressive form of cancer that was caught last August. Today she begins heavy, heavy cancer crushing doses of chemotherapy for one last time before she undergoes a bone marrow transplant. All of this will take place for the next three weeks.

I wish I had something more to say...because when I am done blogging I have to go do dishes.

Kona

I actually feel a little dramatic and silly right now although I know logically I am not. About an hour and a half ago I saw this youngish guy walk up my driveway along my Suburban and stand looking into my carport where my bikes are...including my new Kona. I rushed out the door to ask him if I could help him but he had head phones on and either couldn't hear me or pretended not to. I even yelled at him as he walked on the sidewalk in front of my house, "HEY!". No response.

So I spent the next 15 minutes locking up bikes and finally settling on bringing my bike in as well as all of our Razor scooters.

Punk. Your ass is grass.

Then I wondered if I should report him. So I called the unemergency police department number and told the woman what I had seen. She blurted out, "There are a lot of car prowls and burglaries in Moscow". See I know this...I had my crappy bike stolen TWICE. The first time we recovered it was a year later, at the Ren. Fair where it was locked up. The girl riding it had found it in the bushes. I was dumb and thought it was a fluke that someone would steal my uggo bike and it was stolen AGAIN. I have never found it again. Oh crusty Hardrock...you were an awesome $20 purchase from Missoula.

Back to this evening though. I reported it. And then I saw him again! Walking back by...not looking at anything. Just seemingly enjoying the evening and the music. I tried to snap a picture of him with my cell phone but it failed me. Then I remembered to see what he was wearing. And I called back....she told me too! Anyway, now I have an officer that has passed our house twice! haha. I told him I didn't know if  the guy lived back here or not...but obviously they thought it was weird enough to check out.

Still I feel kind of embarrassed. Big deal over nothing?

You can't have my Kona.

Top one percent

http://www.vanityfair.com/society/features/2011/05/top-one-percent-201105?currentPage=all&wpisrc=nl_wonk

Of course my child is Gifted and Talented!

Today was a pretty busy day. Wait. Is there really ever a not "pretty busy day" when you have children? I know of mama's with 17 kids...so it isn't as if I have some corner on being busy. In fact, I am pretty relaxed and generally not overwhelmingly busy. Pleasantly busy. On to today.

Iris reminded me that today was Co-op Kids at the Moscow Food Co-op so I quickly got dressed and ready to go after driving, yes driving, the boys to school. I took Isla in the car seat so Jon could keep working on some design work he needed for a 10 am meeting. We had a good time at the co-op, crafts and most importantly FREE coffee. I was astonished to look at the clock and realize I still had a half an hour until Iris' 10:15 appointment with the foot doctor. Her leg has been bothering her again so we wanted to get her in again to make sure her shoe inserts were still the proper size. So after lingering at the co-op as long as possible, chatting with community members, inviting nearly every person I saw to the Moscow Parent-Toddler Co-op Silent Auction (different from the previously mentioned Co-op Kids) I strapped both girls into the Beast and headed for Dr. Capawana's (Cowabunga's?) office. We got there five minutes early and I signed in. Ten minutes later the receptionist informed me I was there a tad early...30 minutes early...but add in the early arrival for the 10:15 appointment and I was there 45 minutes early. I had confused the doctor appt. for Isla tomorrow which was the 10:15 appt....this was the 10:45 appt. I decided to stay. I mean, where was I going to go that was better then a room with new toys and smiling older ladies making goo goo eyes at my baby? Both girls did wonderfully, of course.

Then we got in late. So we were there probably at least an hour before our appointment. Life goes on. The doctor checked her out, found her insert still fit, but took note that her left leg(the achy one) is actually developing different from the right leg. Her calf is noticeably smaller when he held each leg side by side. He said we should send her to see an Orthopedic Specialist to rule out anything serious. Cue, feeling of dread that momentarily rose in my chest. I talked myself down...chiding myself not to Google, and remembering the phrase, "When you hear hoof beats, don't look for zebras". It actually worked. Realistically, I think she probably has a very tight IT band from riding her scooter again...that and have you seen her father's legs? The man is practically a mutant! haha. Not really...but Jon is pigeon toed (like Iris) and bowlegged. When I went to massage school I practiced checking alignments on him...he literally has one knee cap higher then the other...I think because one leg is more bowed then the other. Mr. Unsymmetrical. He also has incredibly tight Ilio-tibial bands and I remember laughing when he nearly went through the roof when I "stretched" his leg out during a practice massage. I wasn't allowed to do that to the other leg. No thank you ma'am. Kudos to me for not having an aneurysm over the doctor's "ruling anything serious out" statement. I did give her a leg/hip massage tonight and we worked on stretches again.

After lunch Iris and I went to the library to return some books and movies and pick out some newbies. I picked out a Woody Allen movie that I will probably hate but feel that I should like because he is an iconic director. At least I think he is? I suppose if most of us could recognize his slouching, depressed demeanor he would fit that. I am suddenly hoping he is not IN the movie, just directing so that I don't have to watch his bumbling, morose line delivery. Why did I get this movie again?

Sevrin excitedly told me he went to GT math today...gifted and talented. What a wonderful thing for a girl like me, who cried and moaned over my many math failings to have children that like and yes, excel at math. I did take pause though and have in the past at the class title of GT. In some ways this is saying that some children are innately smarter then others...something that I do not believe and indeed impress the opposite upon my children. Even with my own math struggles I never, ever, never, never suggest that I was bad at math. I always explain that I was not given a strong foundation in basic skills and that led to a lot of frustration along the way. I did have a lot of instability growing up...that was hard enough to deal with without adding the times tables. I did gain confidence by passing my college algebra class...yes, I still had to work harder then most...but I was able to do it through shear determination, practice and studying. It bothers me that some children may get the impression that these skills are predetermined. We always encourage our children to challenge themselves even if that means failing. Sevrin does not take failing well...but I keep reminding him that means he is actually learning something. Meanwhile, Josiah wants to know why he isn't in GT math, since he is second best in class. I think some of this may have to do with his previous teacher's attitude with me as he did test into Advanced Math at Russell before we moved to McDonald. I wrote his new teacher and asked how students could be placed into more challenging math classes...without mentioning GT because I don't want her to think I just want my kid to be GIFTED and TALENTED...because aren't there parents out there that do think their children are extra special and deserve that title? Title be damned...I think he would have a lot of fun playing challenging math games and learning new things. Sevrin brought home ALGEBRA tonight...my third grader.

What would be a better title for that? Even Advanced Math sounds more equitable then Gifted and Talented. How affected.

The boys all finished their homework without complaint, Jon helped Iris with her reading lesson before going to work and the kids and I even straightened the house before they had their Tuesday video game time and watched Scooby Doo episodes from the library. We had falafel for dinner and I always forget how much I love it.

One last note...I have been purposely disengaging on the political front because I CANNOT TAKE IT ANYMORE. But I have to say something about Paul Ryan's budget proposal which I know will not pass...but speaks so loudly to me about the direction the Republican party is going. To see him giddily slashing Medicare for the elderly, pretending vouchers for private insurance companies will EVER be enough for ill seniors to pay for their own nursing home and medical needs, and slashing Medicaid funds for low-income individuals...mostly CHILDREN while simultaneously proposing tax cuts of nearly a 1/3 for the wealthy in this country from 35% to 25% has got to be one of the most disgusting, immoral things I have seen a  politician propose in a long time. The cherry on top was saying this wouldn't affect people 55 or older...essentially enticing seniors to vote for them still because it is no skin off their back is disgusting. These people repulse me. To pretend that privatization is the answer to all our problems is ignoring the issue of greed in mankind. Humans are selfish and corporations are the worst. The GOP has hated Medicare and Social Security since their inception...forget that it has kept seniors out of the poorhouse for decades. Screw my generation and reward the rich...EVEN MORE. I can only hope and pray that people stop voting against their own self interest.

Today

Today definitely started off as a Monday but ended up just fine. Jon had planned on going up to Deary to seed a client's yard from last year and wanted to leave at 7 am. Because he is such a nice guy, he gets up with the kids every morning, makes them lunch, feeds them breakfast and then walks them to school. I normally get to roll out of bed around 7:45 and stumble for the french press. I woke up at 6:45 and hopped out of bed with a start. I remembered I couldn't find our cash card (okay his...I just never activate mine...I have no idea why??) to gas up the beastly Suburban which has been flashing the low fuel light at me the last couple of days. I had that OH NO!!! feeling because I was responsible for snack at play co-op today, as well as getting the kids to school on my own and taking Iris to and from preschool. With the rain I NEEDED the car. So we dash around looking for the card and realize I cannot find the car keys. AT ALL. This means I am really in trouble. We retrace my footsteps after coming home from the MPTC board meeting. I am silently cursing under my breath because I am making Jon late...it is now 7:15...now 7:25. On top of this, I had been planning on jumping into the shower to wash my greasy hair. Yeah. That didn't happen.

Where do we find them? On the shelf next to the door where we always put our keys and where both of us have looked and somehow missed them for the past 15 minutes. This stalling made me suspicious that Jon should not go to Deary. I felt, maybe, this was a sign or omen that he should hide in our room for the day. I did not mention said suspicion. With a kiss he was off!

I managed to get the kids off just fine, Jon of course had already made their lunches. Most of my kids are self sufficient and I enjoyed walking with them and the dog to school to drop them off. Halfway to school I felt the top of my knit hat for some reason and felt three points. A small plastic set of doll butterfly wings was on the top of my head under my hat, probably making me look like I had three horns as we walked to school...all the way down Mountain View...where half of Moscow is on an early Monday morning.

We got home, I checked my email and the girls and I hopped into the Beast and made it to preschool on time for the teachers to walk her in so that I didn't have to take Isla out of her car seat. Take every positive you can in life!

 I made it to MPTC at the fairgrounds a little early and began setting up the play equipment and carpets. Pretty soon a nice sized group was there, Heidi announced it was her birthday and had brought some chocolate raspberry cheesecake. A good second breakfast. Everything went well, fun was had and I headed over to get Iris from preschool. She had painted some beautiful paintings for us, including one entitled, "Mom in the Sun", where I am painted all in red under a blazing sun. I think I forgot my sunscreen.

I came home and was surprised to find Jon here. There were still two inches of snow on the ground in Deary. So no seeding. He also, unfortunately, had a speeding ticket and then another violation for when he first couldn't find his insurance. Although he did find it while the officer was there he was told he could call and give them his policy number. So the speeding ticket=$150 and the insurance violation which wasn't really a violation=$129...the officer assured him that would be removed if he called and that if he cites his good driving record he could get the other reduced.

THEN the screen on the laptop I ran over with the Beast really started fritzing out today. Jon called Dell they quoted $187. Hells bells. He said he found something else online for $79...but what I really want to know is can he REALLY change the screen himself? Jon mentioned to me, "Well you know...things come in threes". I told him that would be when our taxes are done and they tell us how much we owe...or our vasectomy fails. haha.

Today reminds me of...yesterday afternoon when I was looking for seeds from last year. Since October I have not been able to find the new make-up I had bought right before we moved. You know I hardly wear any, but March isn't a friendly month for my skin tone and I was feeling pretty blah. I knew, knew, KNEW that if I purchased more make-up that I would find the other new make-up I misplaced from the move. So last week, even though we are pretty tight right now I used all these coupons from Walgreens and bought a mascara, an eye liner, a pink lipstick and an eye shadow. Not going crazy here.

Guess what was in the container with the seeds? Yep. Brand new mascara, eye liner,  and TWO eye shadows. So now I have two mascaras, two eye liners, three eye shadows and a lipstick. Enough make-up to carry me through my 40's for me. I told Jon we need to figure out what to look for besides a job. Quit looking, we will probably find one in the weirdest place. Or wait, maybe we already have. Moscow???

Do Hobbits fart?

 The other night Josiah and I were watching America's Next Top Model...that could be its own discussion....however this post is about what Josiah said when he saw the male hairdresser.

"Is he joy?", he asked. I was a little confused...then it hit me. "You mean gay?". Yes, he meant gay...haha.

Then last night we were watching an animated, Lord of the Rings, Ethan looked at the hobbit, Frodo's, hair and announced it looked like a butt (it did). One second later Josiah thinks out loud, "I wonder if hobbits fart?".

Proof

Proof that I have a lot of words...I am posting twice in one day! The kids finished their chores up this morning and then we went to the rec. center as planned to shoot some hoops. Once they were good and sweaty there we drove over to the science center where we ran into Roz, Gavin and Connor. Lucky for us today was a Nano Technology day...Josiah really geeked out. haha. He loves stuff like that. Sevrin was interested as well and Ethan and Iris took part and played a lot. By the time we got home I was tired! Jon was here and he has made bulgur beef casserole for dinner. It is much colder then yesterday, I think we will watch a movie tonight.

Rain, rain go away

Yesterday was an absolutely beautiful day. Around 65 degrees someone told me! Jon knocked off work early because it is the one day he doesn't work during the evening during the week and we knew the weather would be changing to rain and wind today. We walked downtown through the neighbors, traded movies at the library (in preparation for today) and stopped at the Co-op for some hamburger. We barbequed in the back yard, this house actually has a really nice backyard. It was fun to cook our burgers with wood (not quite sure the flavor we got-but still good!) and listen to the robins chiding each other in the darkening sky. We came in to eat and then I took the older kids back out to throw fuel into the fire. They love doing that. I thought of getting the camera because they were adorable with their faces lit up with firelight. My camera isn't the greatest though and I am not sure it would do justice.

Jon is at work this morning and then because he took of part of yesterday he will work some of this afternoon. So I think I may take the kids to the rec. center and then to the science center. This is our third day off of school in a row at this point it is about keeping them busy. Jon put them to work doing chores this morning. Sevrin cleaned bathrooms, Josiah is doing dishes, Ethan did laundry and is helping Iris straighten books and clean up the family room. Did I add Iris is practically gnashing her teeth over organizing the books?

Just an update on my bio mom. They found she does have some minute cancers on her thyroid, but as they put it nothing she couldn't live until 90 with. So good news for her.

Funny story of the day

On the way to go to the boy's portfolio night Jon loaded them up into the Suburban and then went to get into his truck since he had to go to work tonight, despite a raging migraine.

I did feel a little bump, and then Jon came running over. He had leaned the backpack with our  new laptop up against the running board of the Suburban. Yep. I ran over it. Just the corner though, I guess the screen now has a one by one inch of black.

Dishes, I vanquish thee.

I think it has been three or four weeks since my Facebook fast and I LOVE IT. Seriously. I do feel less stressed and I do feel more engaged with my children. I told someone that when I would see the red message notification I think the happy part of my brain lit up. By simply not going there I skip that step...so I don't really miss it. Ah...Heather, you social butterfly you. Because Lent will end at some point I have been thinking about my long term relationship with Facebook and think I may try to ditch it except for the occasional check for baby pictures and news from family and REAL life friends. That means no scrolling to read what classmate I haven't seen since 1995 is eating for breakfast. How will I survive?!? I think I will manage. Plus, I enjoy that people don't know the mundane things I avoid doing all day. Maybe that makes my life look more exciting...you know, the mystery. It will leave people thinking, "Oh yeah, Heather...she must be doing amazing things!"...even if in reality that means keeping caught up on dishes. Oddly, this past week I have just done them. For some people this is not an issue but for me. I don't know what it is. I know my friend Molly understands. Regardless, I am enjoying not having to talk myself into doing them. I like that I have a window over the sink that looks out onto the street. I can spy on the neighbors across the street. This morning I was amused to see some of their friends had had an old, decorated toilet planted in their yard with a sign reading, "Cancer Stinks!". I don't know if they do this everywhere, but in Moscow if you get this in your yard it means you have to PAY them to remove it. That is how they raise money...black mail. Jon just muttered, "I hope they don't put it in our yard". I should have taken a picture of it before it disappeared.

Last night, I took the kids to the science fair where we wandered the aisles of McDonald Elementary School seeing what the other children had done. The boys did a science project on the effects of water temperature on ocean currents. I made the mistake of telling them they could each do their own next year. Uff da. It was fun to go though. We saw Sevrin's favorite teacher, Mrs. Arlint, there with her husband and two children. We also ran into a lot of other people we know from Moscow. Despite feeling antsy at times about being in Moscow, I love the community for my children. No matter what Boise throws at the school district I know that parents and teachers here will band together to provide an excellent teacher for my children. There is no school tomorrow or Friday and tomorrow afternoon we will go to school to see the boy's portfolios. There will be childcare provided, so we can go with each boy individually to see what they have been working on. Very cool.

Have I mentioned what I did last Friday night? Kris Wallace from the MPTC group invited some of us ladies to a Pure Romance party, aka a chance to get out of the house and have drinks and food uninterrupted. I am not going to explain WHAT we passed around...needless to say, there is a lot of variety in the world...if you know what I mean? haha. No, I am not talking about a joint either. haha...just realized that sounded like that too.

Have I mentioned how well Iris is reading and how easily she seems to understand mathematical concepts?  We aren't going for genius here, but I am okay with normal. I struggled so badly in math that I am pretty aggressive about teaching the children foundational math skills to build on. We are so fortunate that none of our children, yet, seem to have any sort of delays. At this moment, at least two of the boys are immersed in books they have checked out from the library. I love that they love to read.

Josiah is going to the Math Circle tomorrow which is put on by the high school math club as well as a professor from UI. Last time they did some crazy challenge where they had to follow the lines of shapes without lifting their pencils. Or something like that. Tomorrow they will be learning some game, Nin or Nim? I think. Depending on the weather I think we will either go on a bike ride or go to the Palouse Discovery Science Center in Pullman.

On another random note, my aunt sent me an email informing me my bio mom is getting some sort of results tomorrow regarding a tumor she has in her throat...or somewhere around there. We are hoping it is benign. The doctor had called my aunt to see if she could be there when my bio mom gets the news, she doesn't think he realizes she lives in Montana.

Apparently, I had a lot of words to get out tonight. Jon should be home in about 15 minutes from work, so hopefully I won't attack him with a slate of words.

Good night world.

I see beautiful people

Do yourself a favor and after reading this blog choose the next blog choice at the top of this page. I don't know if you have to be signed in but it is amazing to see and read the absolute creativity, beauty and humor of humans. I happened upon the blogs of three or four women...interesting women...that took the time to upload pictures of beautiful things and the people they love. A South African transplant in the American Midwest? A woman over 65 years old pointing out that she is a minority as only 26% of people over her age are on-line? She says she loves her life. All at our fingertips.

I feel funny chronicling my own life and throwing it out there into internet space. Especially when I see the beauty and prose that is swirling around me. Proof that we are all connected to one another...the beauty we seek and share with others.

Rainy Tuesday

Jon has a meeting this afternoon and then has work at the university. They are having a safety meeting to remind wood shop employees of ways to minimize the chances of college students cutting off their fingers with band saws. Yes, this almost happened. I think this is going to make for a long afternoon/slash evening and I am not looking forward to it. I even got to lay down and relax some after a very busy morning. I took the girls to the Moscow Food Co-op for Co-op kids, to the Moscow Parent Toddler Co-op field trip at the Appaloosa Museum and then to the 11 o'clock library story time. I printed up pictures to mail to various family members and picked up some groceries from the Co-op. I am caught up on dishes and laundry...and this gray weather now has me a little funktified.

Yawn.

Maybe I will cook up the soba noodles for dinner early. I am sure there is something else I could clean but I just look at the odds and ends stuff piled on top of the freezer and want to ignore it. Hence, there is a pile of odds and ends stuff on the freezer.

I also need to call my bio mom and wish her a happy birthday but imagine I will have to call 5 different numbers before I find the correct nurse to leave the message with since she can't speak on the phone anyway.

Doing something while doing nothing

Today I received a funny call from my bio mom's nurse in California. "She wants you to bring her pajamas and a small radio with ear phones". "Uh, I don't live there, I live in Idaho", I said, "My mom has items at the room and board facility she lives at."

My life is pretty humdrum but sometimes these weird experiences wiggle into my daily existence. I don't know quite what to make of them...they are almost like weeds that just pop up randomly. I told the nurse I would call back but I didn't. I didn't because I am not sure what I am supposed to do. My mom is either not with it because she just had surgery or she is with it but wants me to do something, anything for her. The problem is...I don't know what to do. She has been offered help so many times. And truth be told, I think 99% of the time she doesn't want help, or rather doesn't want the kind of help that would require her to change her behavior. Then again, I am not sure she has the mental capacity to change her behavior. She is mentally ill after all. If you were to speak with her though, she is very sharp mentally. She is shrewd. She is a survivor. She has to have been in order to reach the almost ripe age of 60. I think reaching 60 after having lived the life she has is a testament to the scrapper inside.

That leaves me scratching my head. If it was as simple as saying, "Mom, you need help...you need medication...you need to be honest." Well then, that would be that. Well. Then I wouldn't have been adopted. She wouldn't have lost me. If losing your child isn't enough to shake you awake, then I don't really think anything can or will.

For her family this leaves us in a strange place. You see a family member often homeless or on the verge of homelessness and of course you want to help them. Of course I don't want to think of my mother as homeless. And I think she knows that. This allows her to pluck on our heart strings. Sometimes I feel guilt...and I know I am not alone in this. I am a kind person. I am a giving person. But I also know I wasn't enough. That doesn't hurt me to say. It is just the truth. If I wasn't enough at age 9, I am not going to be enough at age 33.

My heart is hard against her and I think it is for the best.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

I am tired. We just got done with the boys science fair project. It was fun...but of course in the end Jon and I were the ones hurridly cutting, printing and taping small pieces of paper to cardboard. I will admire the science projects that are more well put together then ours but we had fun.

My aunt and uncle had sent us money for our anniversary and said dinner was on them. So we took the kids to Sangria, where they had never been, and they had so much fun! We paired up and shared meals to keep the costs down. Josiah and I shared clam linguine, Jon and Iris had salmon fettucine and Ethan and Sevrin shared Shrimp Scampi. We had two appetizers and drinks as well. We got the bill and we had .25 cents left of the money they gave us...and that is after tip! Yay us! And thank you Aunt Penny and Uncle Steve for a really fun evening out with our kids. We hadn't taken them out for a long while. We have such wonderful kids, I was so proud to take them out and have them be so well behaved and thrilled to be treated.

Conversation

This morning I got caught up with Lorie and my sister Gayle. My poor kids probably wished I would just get off the phone but it is fun to have family. Earlier this week I spoke with my sister-in-law Lindsey and my cousin Steven...I have to say...it makes me smile that I have people that call me. I love to hear what people are up to and I love to share with them stories about the children and what we are up to. It is good to have people to share your life with. People that understand you.

I find it odd that I can count Gayle (yes I know you are reading this!) as one of them. We have had a handful of conversations on the phone...but each time, it feels as if a few more obstacles come down and I am getting to know her. My sister. How comforting to have someone that has had similar experiences to my own and a similar temperament. We are both survivors and I admire her ability to care selflessly for those around her. Seemingly without complaint. It was oddly comforting to tell her about the situation with my birth mother. While Gayle and I don't share mothers, our mothers have some of the same challenges. We both moved from our mothers at the age of 9, her to her grandparents, me to my aunt.

Isn't life weird?

My bio mom, Marilyn, had to have a tracheotomy inserted yesterday. I called her the day before in order to check and make sure her address was the same so that I could send her birthday present. She was already at the hospital, scared and unsure. I hate these situations. Because I am her daughter. I was going to put a qualifier on that. But there isn't one. I am her daughter...even if not legally. Now she is nearly voiceless. Who will be her advocate? Who will clean her trach? This is a result from the fire last fall that resulted in the death of a man that was in  her trailer. The fire inhalation burns damaged her vocal cords, leaving them immobile and putting her at risk of suffocation if she was to contract a respiratory infection. Speaking to her, hearing the whoops of her breath...is or was...uncomfortable. She made it to her primary physician for a regular check up, only to be sent to the hospital...this was how serious her doctor found the situation. A tiny camera inserted into her airway showed the damage and yesterday they set about rectifying the situation with the knowledge that it may result in a tracheotomy. I called this morning and was told by a kind nurse, yes, what you say is true...she did have a tracheotomy.

My mom wrote to me through the nurse, tell her I am doing okay...and that I love her. Sometimes emotion surprises me. Because of my separation I have a disconnect in my heart regarding her.

I had to and I have to.

This is intentional.

That nurse tells me, "She says, 'I love her' ".  I steadied my voice and laughed. "Yes".

I didn't say it back.

What does that make me?

11 years

11 years. Has it been that long? Tomorrow is our eleventh anniversary...and I find myself asking the same question I did last year? How in the world did I get to marry such a wonderful man? I seem to have fallen into the situation...kind of clumsy...kind of Heatherish. I seem to fall into luck a lot in my life. How a girl from a dysfunctional family ended up in my life...mystery personified. For those that know our story, well, it started out pretty unlikely. A relationship that went from 0 to 60...literally. We had never even held hands when we became engaged. No, that wasn't intentional. In reality, we had fallen in love before we knew what hit us. When faced with the possibility of being apart there was only one option. Get married. Now, my only regret is that we didn't flee to Europe for the backpacking trip we had planned. Instead we tried to please 110 different people, tried to prove we were a match, tried to prove we were godly and that made the actual experience of getting married hell. Yep, I said it. The getting married part was the worst part of the past 11 years. If I was given a do over I would elope...somewhere. Is that terrible? Probably.

I have learned a lot the past 11 years. Some of it about myself...a lot about other people and how to let go of expectations. I have learned this...don't expect much. Invest in the people that love you.

Jon on the other hand has exceeded expectation. As he always has. If you know him, you know what I mean. A more honest, hard working, kind person you won't find. He has taught me a lot about unconditional love and patience.

I have always heard people say marriage is hard work. For us, that hasn't really been the case. Maybe it is because we went into it with eyes wide open. Maybe it is hard work...but we don't see it that way. Mostly though, it has been fortuitous that we think so similarly. So here we are 11 years later.

I made a card for him tonight, borrowed Josiah's pastels, and it was fun to make this love note with four children gathered around giving me suggestions and making observations. Thank you Sevrin for pointing out that my heart ended up looking like an octopus so that I could change it to a love tree.

I hope my children all find the kind of partner that I have.

"She Walked"

Since blogging more consistently I have noticed how much walking plays a part of my life. I mean, I knew this before. Some people eat. Some people smoke pot. Some people watch tv.

I walk.

I think my tombstone should read, "She walked".

Lightening

Friendship. I miss it. I miss having good girlfriends I can walk and talk with. It has been many years since I have had a good friend here...with me...in my life. Of course, I have Jon and he is my best friend...but he can't be everything to me. Who wants to be that? We talk about it, Jon and I...how hard it is to find those people you click with...that don't have to struggle to understand what you mean, it goes both ways.

I'm pretty tired today and was yesterday. I think it is the result of a week at home with all five kids and having the youngest half of them sick. So we were home. Stuck. And it feels like that. I dropped a flier off at the Moscow Parent-Toddler Co-op today for the field trip next Tuesday. Jon had Isla at home while I dropped Iris off at preschool. I stayed for 45 minutes without a child. Heavy on the PARENT co-op today. I needed to speak with other women. Don't we all need that? Why is it so hard to make friends as an adult? And why do I live so far from the friends I have made as an adult.

Emily, I am talking about you. I was overcome with the urge to call you immediately on the way from preschool. But didn't. I don't want to talk to you on the phone. I want to go on a walk with you, go for coffee, listen to you rant and rave...and then get my turn.

Molly, I am talking about you. From the moment I spied you with that bright red triple stroller I knew we were meant to be friends. And I miss you and your wisdom. You have been instrumental in my own life. I have learned so much from you.

Mary, I am talking about you. I remember the exact moment I met you at library story time in Missoula. We were both rabid for friendship. I saw it in you and your hurried, breathless speech. No one tells us how desperate for adult conversation young children will make us.

Shauna, I am talking about you...even though suddenly I am not sure how to spell your name. How fun it was to find another woman that would share her thoughts passionately. I want to go for a walk with you, through the frats, and be shocked by young men hitting on us despite you having a baby strapped to your chest.

Jennifer, I am talking about you. I don't know when it happened. But we became good friends. I am so thankful for your acceptance of me...just as I am.

I have never been the person to have a lot of close friends. I know a lot of people in passing but always long for real connections. They don't come easy. Perhaps the friends we do make wouldn't be as special if it was easy.

All I know is that I long for those people and those relationships. I mourn them at times. Come over. Lets eat together and go on a walk.

They come as gifts.

Lightening.

Odds and ends

The day after Isla's first birthday she took 3,4,5 steps! We all cheered her on, it was pretty fun to see her tip, tip, tip toeing. Then last night she said, "Dank Doo"...oh so cute! She already says mom and dad...I love seeing her personality come out.

This spring break has been pretty uneventful. Iris has had a sore throat and cold for the past four days. So we haven't really done anything fun since Monday when we went on a bike ride. Isla has a cold now and Ethan has the start of it. Super fun.

I went on a long walk yesterday with Lemon and took her to the dog park. It was fun standing around chatting it up with other dog owners. Then I walked home by Tiempo Commons...I swear...some development looks like it has just been thrown up and left there. Pretty atrocious and I kept think WE could do so much better then that.

Last night I saw that Florida is attempting to deregulate landscape architecture and had a mild heart attack. If Florida does it, maybe Idaho will think that is a good idea. I almost wanted to cry as those tests costs us thousands, are difficult and are one of the only ways we can separate ourselves from landscapers starting out. That is what stops everyone else from calling themselves a landscape architect...and looking at Tiempo Commons who could argue that not everyone is qualified to plan development.

Still watching the news out of Japan, Libya...etc., etc.. The world is a crazy place and I am under no notion that it is crazier now then ever. I think it is magnified when you have children though...sometimes I wonder what kind of world my children will have when they grow up. It makes me sad.

Bush planters

Jon and I used to sing this song we made up whenever we saw someone else disappointed or were disappointed ourselves...even over really trivial things.

"Disappointment...", sung like a dirge is really funny actually.

Jon came home from the wood shop tonight and was disappointed that he hadn't even gotten a phone interview...for NORTH DAKOTA. Note: North Dakota had 100 applicants. Apparently he didn't even make the entry level short list as an RLA! I mean, how many RLAs can be entry level. Is being licensed a blessing or a curse...or does it just not matter?

We are off the applying wagon again. It is too hard to be rejected. Over. And Over. And Over again. I wonder. The more years since graduation do they look at you as none entry level anymore? And then what kind of weird no mans land are you in when it has been 3, 4, 5 years since you have graduated but not been hired? I am taking a new tact...at least for Jon's sake. We will get there...it is just going to be a different path. Those doors(relating to a past blog post) are not open for us, and while frustrating it is counterproductive to dwell on it. Damn it. We are going to be the best bush planters you have ever seen! And we are going to make money at it to boot.

Spring Break

Today the kids and I went on a bike ride...with the new bike Lorie bought me for my college graduation nearly two years ago! As life is with children, one thing after another has gotten in the way of this ride. I became pregnant with Isla fairly soon after graduation, Isla was too small, etc. etc. Now she is one. Yesterday was her birthday. Isla, however, is not a huge fan of the bike helmet. I am going to have to figure out if she needs a smaller one or if I can borrow a bike seat that hooks onto the back of my seat. We actually rode on the side of the street, as opposed to the sidewalks, because I want them to learn the correct and safe way to ride. They did really well and I think they felt pretty proud of themselves. We rode out to Mountain View Park, along Paradise Creek, the red wing blackbirds were singing their songs...and it felt like spring.

I told them they could each have 30 minutes of video games, as it IS spring break, and it is a treat to get to play other then Tuesday and Saturday. I think we will catch the bus to go to the library to exchange some movies when Isla Jane wakes up. Jon is working at the wood shop today and tomorrow and then I am sure he will be getting ready for more work to start up...we hope!

I can't believe Isla is one. She is the apple of all of our eyes...she gives all of us so much joy. I can't explain how many times we are all sitting around her, laughing at her silliness. Jon and I secretly enjoy her 10:30 pm wake up time to nurse because we get to see her one last time before we go to bed. Her blond, blond hair is starting to curl at the nape of her neck. It is hard to believe she is our last baby. What a sweet way to end this part of our lives.

Temptation

"When one door closes another door opens; but we so often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door, that we do not see the ones which open for us."
~ Alexander Graham Bell

There is nothing I like better then a good quote. A quote that sums up whatever emotion I am feeling and  explains it so much better. Our pastor today spoke about Jesus in the wilderness and about his temptations...the fact that he could have eaten at that moment and satisfied his hunger. But then that would have been the end of the story and that his destiny in life was to do it right. This led into a discussion on our own temptations and she put a spin on it. The temptation to deny the areas in our lives where we can make a sacrifice and make a difference in another persons life. This idea fits nicely into my goal of being more "present" with my children but also, I am finding with other people in my life. Being away from Facebook has forced me to pick up the phone! I can't just scan the news feeder to find out what is going on in my neighbor's life. I might actually have to call them and ask them. It becomes more personal. The 24/7 connection to each other...may not be much of a connection. 

But aside from another connection to my Lenten "sacrifice"...I am taking another look at my desires. And the temptation to stubbornly cling to what we had pictured our lives as. We recently found ourselves wrestling with the desire for employment...well, employment by someone other than ourselves. A lot of this has to do with fear. I know Jon needs help running the business and I am scared. I am scared I will mess up an order or mess up the books. And the responsibility will lie solely with me! Our only training is on-the-job...with five kids relying on us there just aren't room for mistakes. We are afraid there won't be enough work. We are afraid we will run out of money. There is so much we don't control...and I don't believe that simply working hard is enough. You need some good luck in there! Lately, we find ourselves trying to make our own luck.

Because of my childhood and the lack of even basic resources I crave stability. I WANT a steady paycheck and health insurance. I WANT a home that my children can call their home. And damned if I find myself struggling to pay all our bills despite investing in our educations...despite working hard...despite pressing onward. I like the above quote because it reminds me that while so many of those employment doors have shut we have other doors that ARE open. What do you do when those aren't the doors you want? Or that you dreamed of? Or what you planned for? 

NPR last week had Pastor Eugene Peterson, the author of, The Message, translation of the Bible. What he said struck me as he spoke of a span of six years in his life during his 30s when nothing seemed to work out. He said he was striving...yet no doors opened. I feel like this. I feel we are stunted. It feels like failure. We have to quit looking at those closed doors and look at the ones that are available.

Exhausted.

Many times a day I think about the recession and how it has affected us. I mean to write more about this, and I will. But for now, I am leaving it at this. I think there are millions of people like us. Sad. Bewildered. Wondering. What happened to the American Dream? If we work hard we will succeed? And then...what is success. I heard a couple speak on NPR yesterday about a book they wrote regarding their own recession experience, Made for you and me, I think it is called. I think we need to hear the stories of aborted hopes. Thankfully, for most of us this is no Grapes of Wrath, yet. However, I don't rule out the possibility that the greed of a few could still lead us down that path.

What does the loss of hope look like? Exhaustion. Today is one of the better days this week...I finally feel like "talking" about it. We are pulling out of our self induced depression brought on by applying for employment. Trying to find the balance between drive and being content is hard. At what point do you give up on Plan A. and commit to Plan B.?

Grief

I took the children to the Lenten Service at the church we have been attending. It is one way that I am trying to introduce religious practice into their life...I believe that this practice is even more important then my belief or unbelief in dogma. The world is a sad place. It can be overwhelming.

I have given up Facebook for Lent in order to be more present in my own life. Today is the third day I haven't been on...and I don't miss it in general. I am a social person...so have just upped the effort in my everyday life to come into contact with people. We went to the library last night, church the night before. This keeps me around adults when I have five children and Jon is at work. Despite the fact that I really think I have some of the smartest, sweetest and most well behaved children I still need adult conversation! 

Oddly, the thing I miss most about Facebook is the ability to commiserate with others on the state of sadness that pervades our world. I have written I feel things strongly. Listening to NPR yesterday I almost cried when I heard the commentator speaking on Libya interview a reporter saying he had seen bad things but was seeing things he had never seen happen before. His voice was dull and flat, in an attempt to keep his voice steady. Can you feel that pain? Across the world. Two times yesterday NPR hosts cautioned that if you were listening with small children to tune out. I did. And the radio silence was loud. What the fuck is wrong with people that they can massacre people? And that it goes on over and over and over again. And we go on with our lives. I feel powerless. I want to yell out to the world. LOOK! Because so many of us are also overwhelmed we don't want to hear it. So we don't listen. I don't know what to do about this. Does it matter when we hear of grief? Does it matter to know that in Libya a dictator will massacre thousands and torture them? Does it matter that in the Sudan horrific things happen EVERY DAY. And it doesn't even make the news? That Charlie Sheen makes the news?!!? That in Russia journalists are singled out and assassinated.

This morning I heard about Japan. And felt that lump in my throat. We have friends that are from Japan, Kazunori and Eri, who now live in New York. Looking at the map I can't help but think the epicenter is where they are from...where their families live. I wanted to run to Facebook!(the only place I can get in contact with Kazunori) and write him and say, "We are thinking of you!". But I didn't. I came to blog about grief and sadness. And told Jon to do it for me.

For some moments in life there are no words. -David Seltzer, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory

Writing desperately

Sometimes I feel the need to write...desperately. This is one of those times. And despite having four children awake...that will undoubtedly find that I am the one to solve some sort of issue...I am going to soldier on.

What is this about? Renaming. Identity. Again...I come back to identity. My aunt sent a photo album where she had compiled photos of her mom and dad...her brothers and sister...some, of family members I have never met. I looked through it yesterday, recognizing a lot of the images...but not all. Smiling to myself at the connection to the past.

Until.

I got towards the back of the album and came across a more recent picture of my mother. And I gasped. Can you imagine finding yourself gasping at the image of the woman that bore you? You probably can't. I felt shame. And guilt. I felt pity. I felt grief. I felt tears. I feel tears. I lingered and moved on.

Moving on is what I do best. I seem to have a knack for it...cultivated by the necessities of life.

Later, Iris flipped through the pictures...happy to find a picture of herself. When she paused and looked at me with animated horror I knew where she was. "This is a scary picture", said my four year old daughter. There is no filter there yet. She was reacting. So I had to explain who this person was, "That is my mom...from California...she has lived a tough life." That has become the byline of that photo. The boys have seen some photos of her before, and I think vaguely remember what she looks like. Still, Josiah stopped there as well. Wondering aloud why she looked so different...the comparison is hard to escape when you can see someone at age four...young and new...and then older, after a life filled with loss and homelessness.

As Josiah and I looked through the album he noticed the name. Kenna. He knows her as Marilyn. I have always wondered about this name change...and even smirked a bit to myself. Tonight...it made me sad. I remembered all the names I have gone by. Harman or Harmon...I didn't even know which was the correct spelling. Krienke. Vincelli. Negaard.Then married into the ever enduring Smith name. And in all those names where was I? Who was I? What is a name?

Identity.

A name is everything and nothing. For my mom, a woman with few choices in her life. She chose the name Marilyn. Perhaps I will never know the reason she dislikes her given name, Kenna...maybe it really is because she thinks it sounds masculine. She told me she likes the name Marilyn because it is feminine. Why shouldn't she get this one thing in life? Something beautiful in an otherwise tragic life.

This family. If you could see the faces of these people...smiling. You wouldn't know. So I tell my children the story of these people...and it is a sad one. "This is the uncle I met in California...their mother left him with a family and never told anyone where he was...he found us all a few years ago." and  "This is my mom's mother...my grandmother...she left them"...and hearing Iris pipe up, "You would never do that".

No, I wouldn't.

Responsibility

Women living today have a lot to live up to. I am sure the same could be said about men...but I am not one...and this is my blog. I hit a wall last week. Not intellectually, just physically and emotionally. I have had years of poor sleep...I want to sleep through the night and am tired. This makes me grumpy and makes getting to everything I need to get to seem hopeless.

As my children get older I realize the overwhelming responsibility we bear to lead them safely through to adulthood. I think this makes me tired. When they were little adulthood seemed a lifetime away...but then Josiah turned ten. I realized Josiah has one more year of elementary school left and then will be in middle school. What happened? And more importantly...am I ready for the next part of being a parent.

Some things I have realized that will come up soon are:

1) Puberty...enough said.

2) Education. I don't feel that education was considered important in my birth or adoptive families. Looking at the way some in my family have to live is scary to me and places an extra emphasis in my own mind on the need of my children to be not only well educated...but able to make good choices for themselves. To learn from mistakes and to be able to move on. I have come a long way from the days of reading and dreaming of unschooling...perhaps visiting my mother in California a couple of summers ago opened my eyes to what life can be like. I have started to go with my own gut...George W. style. If an educational style sounds too good to be true...it is. Jon and I have discussed how we want to address their education and ways that we can encourage them to excel. I want them to know that the habits they form now will serve them for many years to come...and most importantly I want them to feel success in order to bolster their own belief in themselves and their own capabilities. I am not sure if I know exactly how to approach this because I am sure there is a fine line between being a bitch of a mother and being encouraging. We know of families where education just seems to be expected...how do we do that? To add to this...how do I encourage my daughters who are still young to trust their own intelligence. Growing up I felt stupid. I wasn't good at the things the smart kids were good at so I spent a lot of time feeling insignificant and unable to accomplish my own goals in life. Jon's belief in me enabled me to go on and receive a college degree. Before that point I attended college because I had a vague idea that this would benefit me...but didn't know if I was smart enough. That self defeating talk stunted me for years.

3) Navigating the World. Jon and I watched a show the other night on huffing aerosol cans...like oven cleaner. I was horrified and thought...what the fuck? I am not sure a more vanilla word could explain how appalled I felt to learn that kids do this! I think I may need to make a list titled, "Stupid things not to do", and at the top of the list write, "Huffing". Realizing the boys are getting older and will be moving towards independence scares me. My birth family is a car wreck of bad decisions, heartbreak and alcoholism. I see mental illness...homelessness...and then I look at my children and wonder if that could be in their future.

So what do we do with this list. We map out the way we teach them...we take this seriously...prayers that know no words.

Don't let anyone tell you being a parent is easy.

Incognito

Talking to a friend yesterday she told me a story that was unbelievable. I will call her Miss Incognito...not really to protect her but to protect her half-sister and others involved in the story. We'll call Miss Incognito's sister...Sarah...yeah that sounds good.

Sarah was diagnosed 5 (???) years ago with a rare form of leukemia. She has been able to extend her life with daily medication...but a bone marrow transplant would be necessary for a cure. Sarah is an interesting woman. She has mental issues and can be quite unstable. Because of her cancer she lost one baby that was born at six months premature and has had other miscarriages.

Sarah decided to find her half siblings on her father's side (Miss Incognito and Sarah share a mother) in order to warn them that they could have this form of genetic leukemia. Sarah's sister...who will be called...Jane...was happy to be told. Unfortunately, three years ago, Jane's mother called Sarah to inform her that Jane had passed away due to this cancer. Sarah visited Jane's mother and saw the urn...Sarah was obviously sad for her sister and obviously scared for herself!

Recently Sarah happened upon her half brother on facebook and lo and behold...Jane had risen from the dead! No wait...scratch that...Jane's family had faked her own death so that Sarah would leave them alone. And on top of that Jane is perfectly healthy with a ten month old baby because their aunt had matching bone marrow that she donated to Jane. Got that? Sarah's family pretended her half-sister died...and are willing to let Sarah die rather then give her the necessary information on who the aunt is that donated her marrow.

Miss Incognito and I are realizing why Sarah has some of the issues she does.

Yes this story is true.

The Public Education Vultures are Circling

After reading about Tom Luna's education reform proposal I had to learn more about it. I have spent time reading about the bill and writing my various representatives including Mr. Luna. I told Mr. Luna that I did not want computers taking the place of living human beings...and he responded and told me that wasn't the case.

But that IS the case. The education department estimates as many as 1000 teachers could lose their jobs to pay for these flashy new computers put in the sweaty hands of ninth graders across the state. Loss of teachers aside, do I want my ninth graders to have free access to the web unsupervised? Uh...no. Does our district or any district have the funds to make repairs and updates to these laptops as well as maintaining a system at each school that can handle the traffic? At the meeting one parent pointed out that they don't even have high speed internet, they have dial-up. What about students in even more rural Idaho that don't have access...and yes, there are many students in that situation. The success rate for student's taking on-line courses at this age is not positive. Yet, Mr. Luna proposes that when my son goes into ninth grade he be handed a personal laptop that he can take home and that will be his after completing four years of high school (ever heard of outdated technology Mr. Luna?).

Mr. Luna also uses some downright deceptive math to show that the average class size will only go up to somewhere around 19 students per teacher. Huh? That is funny...some of my children already have 23-24 students in their classes. Some of the high school AP classes already have upwards of 32 students per teacher. Does he have any idea how long that it already takes those high school English teachers to grade papers? Mr. Luna counted all certified educators which would include PE teachers and speech therapists for examplel and then divided that by the number of students to get that number. He didn't count just the teachers...he also counted people that don't even teach the students to get that number low.

Mr. Luna says that my children be required to take six on-line courses to graduate from high school. I have taken on-line courses at the college level and found them very dry. I am all for options...all students learn differently. But do not try to pretend that a laptop shares any of the passion that teachers feel about their subjects with students. Students need to have the ability to engage in discussion about history and current events. Humans learn from each other...from debate and the introduction of new viewpoints.

These bills will introduce instability within districts as they minimize the ability of professionals...TEACHERS to make a living. I don't know why people expect teachers to change the world yet don't want to pay them. It is ridiculous that he is making it impossible for teachers that teach lower achieving students bonuses or wage increases. Does anyone really believe that the only reason some of these children are struggling is because of their teacher? There is so much more involved in a student's success then their teacher and punishing teachers for teaching children that have poor home lives, learning disabilities or working parents is insane. What other profession can you go to college...get a degree and then have people turn around and call you selfish for wanting to make more then $30,000 a year? My children have had great teacher's in Moscow...and as another woman pointed out we are fortunate to live in this district. Other districts have already closed their schools. Yes, you read that right. CLOSED their schools. Mr. Luna wants to do away with tenure...okay so lets see...increase class size to well over 30 and throw a new teacher in the mix. Because as someone pointed out...Wyoming pays their teachers on average $20,000  more a year...Idaho will become a revolving door for new teachers. I guess they actually think education is worth something there. In 2007 Idaho already ranked at 49th in the amount of money spent on education per pupil. Mr. Luna wants to cut that even more and buy new lap tops in the meantime? Insanity! What could have prompted this desire for new gadgets?

Money.

What I find most infuriating about his proposal is that he received campaign funding from K12 based in Virginia. Advertising from J.A. Albertson has been placed in papers around the state supporting Mr. Luna's reform... Thomas Wilson is chief executive officer and a director of the Kathryn Albertson Foundation and sits on the board of K12...a private corporation that is primed to make a killing if this reform is passed.(http://www.k12.com/about_k12/board_of_directors/) The Albertson name carries some weight around here...the UI business school is named the J.A. Albertson Building. Do people realize that those supporting this reform stand to profit directly from the introduction of on-line courses as graduation requirements?

So in Mr. Luna's viewpoint it would be better to pay teachers less...force out experienced teachers, take away any stability (and you know how many cars and homes sell when you don't know if you will have a job in two years) and send our public education funds out to Virginia instead of paying teachers in our own community.

Keep it local Luna...as a conservative you should get that. This is nothing but an attack on public education by those that think we should all home school our children or send them to charter schools. (both options that should be available)

If you are a parent/educator in Idaho please contact your senator, representatives, and Mr. Luna himself. He actually responded directly to me...but never responded again after I asked him why I should trust him when he clearly is in the pocket of the K12 Corp.

Neurosis 101: The Heather Files Part II

I started off the day feeling great and now feel really negative. A lot of this has to do with my own internal dialogues I have with myself. Again, I wish I could be a quieter person. I wish I didn't wear my feelings on my sleeve. I wish I didn't worry what others think of me. I wish I didn't feel things strongly.

For crying out loud. I am almost 34 years old! Is this normal? Feeling uncomfortable in your own skin? This seems to be a theme in my posts...my discomfort with myself. I almost feel like how I feel is inappropriate. I second guess a lot of what I say when I have conversations with others...and I chastise myself. At the same point I go out of my way to be thoughtful and present ideas in non-confrontational manners...I try. And when I feel like I am being judgmental...ah...the weight of the world.

My hypocrisy

Several weeks ago we had a pretty passionate debate with some friends of ours about appropriate responses to injustice in the world. In this case it involved the mega loads destined for the tar sands of Canada that will soon take place on a scenic byway connecting Idaho with Montana. But really...this conversation could have been about anything. I know that throughout history there have been injustices and tragedies that the typical person had no control over. Living in the information age tends to amplify these feelings of impotency...and leads to general frustration and angst. Within my own state's borders there seems to be serious corruption at top levels of Idaho state government. How else to explain the fact that the mega loads permits were essentially approved with no public input? That politicians admit stealing timber from land dedicated to funding schools and then refusing to pay the amount back? Or that some politicians feel that they don't have to pay taxes? Just the rest of us that pay their salary? That gubernatorial candidates feels free to poach at will? What an odd state. But realistically...what an odd country...what an odd world.

So what is the appropriate response? Ultimately the mega loads are a symptom of a much larger problem in our country. In many ways we are a democracy in name only...because I don't have the money huge corporations like Conoco Phillips have...or Exxon Mobile. My voice isn't as loud. Recent Supreme Court decisions on a national level make this even more of an issue. I feel as if the average citizen is like the tiny community in Horton Hears a Who. How can we be heard if there are no Hortons?

We didn't go protest the mega loads. Not because I don't think it is worthwhile...but because I wasn't sure driving my SUV down was the point I wanted to make. The fact is that our country is built on oil...Idaho receives 9% of its oil from those dastardly tar sands in Canada. What does that make me? How do I inform future development in such a way that I won't need to rely on my vehicle so heavily? Would it be better for me to park my vehicle as a form of protest? What about 0 degree weather and five young children? These questions are never easy and it is something I struggle to work out in my own life.

Neurosis 101: The Heather Files

Today started off pretty slow...Jon let me sleep in. Again. Dylan had spent the night with the boys so after a breakfast of sugary cereal they had fun doing god knows what in the family room...wrestling probably, watching movies and playing on the Wii. I had coerced another couple to come for dinner...haha. I say coerced just because I have made it my mission to be more outwardly friendly this year...as in spending time with new people and putting myself out there.

After finding out for sure they were coming to dinner I spent most of the afternoon wondering how dull of a hostess I would be, whether my children would let us visit and whether they would like dinner. I kept reminding myself that Jon is a really likable guy. Sometimes I am just too weird...too neurotic...and too self absorbed. :P Another friend of ours told me the other day when I apologized for possibly offending her that I was always worried about offending someone. Very astute! I do worry about offending people. I worry about people not liking me and I want to be liked. I hate that about myself. I hate that I want people to like me. I hate that I think I am unlikable and obnoxious...this of course going back to previous blogs where I hated myself for being loud and opinionated. Even though I am. And even though I blogged about accepting those things about myself.

Right now. I don't. Unfortunately, you can't take a vacation from your own neurosis.

Abbreviated

One evening last fall I randomly typed in my birth father's name, Tyson Harman, into the Facebook search box...and poof! There he was. I knew it was him the second I saw him. And I had never seen him before. My first thought was not, "Great!" my first thought was, "Now look what you've done Heather". I had to decide what should be done or what I needed to be done or what I could live with being done. After swearing profusely I remembered my birth mom had told me I had two sisters. I found several women...and wrote them all. I introduced myself as the possible daughter of this man and gave them relevant facts I knew about him.

I was not going to give him a chance to reject me.

Then I waited.

And then I had one. My sister, yes I had a sister! Gayle writing to tell me that if what I wrote her was true then she was my sister! And in fact I had two! And an aunt and new cousins...and still there was him...who I hadn't written yet. I was angry at this man I had never met.

Angry and indifferent.

This particular blog is abbreviated. And in many ways that is the way I feel about him...abbreviated. I have spoken to him once on the phone and he seems very nice. On an intellectual level I would like to meet him. To learn something about him so that I can learn something about myself. To have something more to pass on to my children about their grandfather.

Emotionally I feel nothing.

I think I should meet him. I want to meet my sisters. I want to meet my aunt and cousins. I want to form a connection.

I'll think about these things.

Identity

Growing up I knew exactly what I wanted to be. I wanted to be Cyndi Lauper. I wanted pink hair. I wanted to sing...LOUDLY and I wanted to dance and I wanted to wear Rainbow Brite's clothes and I wanted to be loved...for all of it. I remember living in Southern California...summer days were endless and hot. White heat. The air smelled like oil and dirt and humidity. I played with ants. I played with cockroaches. I spit on people from our second floor apartment. I made prank calls to the operator at the public pay phone...late into the night as my mom spoke with my aunt on the adjacent phone. I was convinced that I was convincing the operator that I was a 50 year old man asking for the time. I was that good. I was going to be an actress. I was going to be loved. I remember running barefoot up the fake green turf carpeting that lined our apartment stairs. The dirt. The grime. The smell of burning carpet when I laid the hair iron on it. The time I washed the cat...in the toilet. The time I followed a little girl home from school and missed the bus...the bus that would take me back down to the poor neighborhood I lived in. The abandoned gas station across the street...with the homeless camped behind it...between the walls of buildings...their drunken caterwauling at night. The lights. The sirens. Riding in the back window of our vehicles...orange street lights flashing by...the night life of Los Angeles. Sucking on butterscotch candies my grandpa gave me. Hiding under my uncle's bed while playing solo GI Joe...discovering nudie mags. What IS this? Watching Annie...I remember feeling sorry for her...sorry that she had no family...sorry that she had to be adopted.

And then I was. Aren't our lives like this? Don't we all have stories like this. Stories that are probably all a little dirtier then we would like to remember. Not quite so airbrushed they exist in the back corners of our mind. Most of the time we can ignore them...but they have made us. We are a product of these experiences. My experiences are gritty. I am gritty. I am emotional. I am compassionate. I am disgusted. I am sad. Who I am lurks beneath the surface and is insecure. I am that 7, 8, 9 year old girl...I am the girl that slept in a car.

I have noticed when I blog that I want to appear a certain way. I take many pictures of happy events. I don't take pictures of myself pinched and silent during dinner. I don't take pictures of my house and the mess. Because I want to appear at least remotely put together. I don't want to show it at all if it can't look better then it normally does. I don't take pictures of myself wasting time online. I don't take pictures of myself feeling smug and self satisfied. I don't take pictures of myself judging.

So I will rectify this. I can be distracted and lazy. I can be a procrastinator. I am not organized. I like bright colors. I like music. I like to dance. I like to walk. I like to laugh. I am that little whirling dervish girl.

Being a mother now lends itself to all sorts of expectations. It is a battle for me to overcome my desire to socialize with the need to keep house. I thought I would dispel any myths that may exist for those that don't know me well on any supermomness. We are our harshest critics and I know so many moms that think the worst of themselves. We don't love ourselves...we want to be like THAT mom...the one that is beautiful, the one that makes time to exercise or knit or do any assortment of things we don't do and frankly don't want to! I want my house to be organized and beautiful! But it isn't.

What is this blog about? Being myself. Allowing myself to be strong in some areas and not others. And appreciating the things I have to offer that are unique to me. The grit.

Isla is our standby paper shredder...very energy efficient.

Breakfast. Check. Coats. Check. Library movies. Check.

Shoe rack that Jon made...not currently being used.

New bike kept out of the rain...glider rocker as stool, probably not the best idea.

Note tiara on dresser and guns in corner...unmade bed, box of things to dispose of.

5000 minutes

Today I recieved a text from my birth mom Marilyn that said this:

Mom went to att to increase minutes five thousand minutes for the weekends good news for us
love mom

We had just discussed her new phone plan and I am happy that she was able to increase her minutes in order to control costs...she has had a problem with going over her minutes in the past. I did laugh...really hard...and so did Jon when I read the part about good news for us. I guess I should set some time aside?

January weekend

I always wait to title my posts until after I have written. Mostly because I never know what will pop out.

This weekend was a three day weekend with the kids...it was pretty tiring after a rainy Friday but we were fortunate to have Katie, Dylan, Eva and Sylvia stop by for an afternoon visit. Jon was pretty busy on Friday meeting with clients and working on a proposal with Harmony Engineering and Design from Driggs, ID. I am pretty proud of him, he has never waited for something to fall in his lap and instead goes for it. Hopefully, they will win the project...fingers crossed.

Saturday Jon worked from 9-1 at the wood shop up on campus...and had enough time to read through and edit most of the proposal since not many students came in. I had the kids help clean up and Josiah watched Isla while I tackled our mountain of dishes. I swear they reproduce. I was listening to NPR while washing dishes and heard a short story by a woman who considered bread making meditative. I agree. And decided that we would be making honey challah for cinnamon rolls for Sunday morning breakfast and for a treat to take to church. But first we walked to the Winters Market and back where this funny exchange occurred:
On the way home we came across a group of 7th or 8th grade boys...a pack of them...riding their bikes towards us. One kid stayed on the sidewalk and jumped off the curb right before he got to us. Ethan said, "He must be showing off", I said, "Maybe" and then he said, "He must not know you are married."

Because we were tired Friday we had told the kids we would do family night on Saturday night. Jon made soup, we mixed up the challah and had a pretty fun afternoon overall.

        Iris mixing it up.

      Sevrin holding the bowl while Josiah tries to mix in the flour.

                               

Ethan's idea of kneading the dough.

Ready for the movie to start.

       Putting the filling in.

                                                     

This morning the kids were very excited for the cinnamon rolls...as can be seen below. We ate cinnamon rolls, made a mess of the house again seemingly dirtying every dish overnight and went to church at 11 am. We took some cinnamon rolls with us...which made the people very happy. After church I took some cinnamon rolls over to the neighbor across the street to pay her back for lending me powder sugar last week! I remember how much my Grandma Negaard baked and how she always had some sort of treat, stale or not, to offer to guests as well as to take places. I think I would like to do that as well...as long as I can avoid weighing 300 pounds.

This afternoon Jon had the boys help  him stack more fire wood and clean up the yard. It was pretty balmy out there...over 45 degrees and blue skies! I took Lemon to the dog park where she enjoyed playing with the other dogs and getting filthy. Not as filthy though as the long haired, pure white dog that came and promptly laid in the mud. Later Jon put Ethan's Christmas present together, his bike, and he took it for it's virgin voyage. I love our flat street and sidewalks...I love that the kids have a safe place to roller skate, skateboard and bike ride right outside our front door. Now I am off to eat the pizza we bought from Safeway...we are tired and tomorrow is the beginning of another week full of play co-op, preschool, school, vaccinations and doctor's appointments.

Waiting for the cinnamon rolls to be done this morning.

                                     

         Lemon waiting for the cinnamon rolls to be done this morning.

                                  
       

I can't imagine a better smell then fresh cinnamon rolls.

The weather was finally nice enough for Ethan to ride his bike.

                            

Iris

Josiah

Isla Jane