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We interrupt my RA flare up to make sure BlogHer ads is happy... are the ads still appearing on the main page?

I took the code out of the post template...

I hate feeling this way...

I got a card in the mail Saturday from one of the kids old social workers from our state. It made me feel nauseous. It was just a thinking of you card but...

I was puttering along just fine pulling my house back together when it felt like a ton of bricks had hit me. All my projects scattered throughout the house mid way through... it's a train wreck here. I am rearranging my room, rearranging the kids rooms to move them into separate areas. I'm also still staining and polying my desk and the new kitchen table. The big round one that is supposed to encourage sharing, teamwork, and equality.

The computer/game room is a disaster. I'm pulling Hubbins' computer and desk out of there and moving it into our room and setting up that room as a classroom with computers and everything.

With my RA flare ups, I have to do as much as I can while I can still move because in most cases I lose like three days. Not to mention the fact that mornings are pure sluggish hell for me to be able to get my body to do anything.

I don't plan to start school for my kids until after labor day and end in mid June. They've been working all summer on math and reading and are going to get a break, even if it doesn't coincide with the other schools in the area.

I guess what all this amounts to is I feel fear. I know if they were to come here they would not be happy. They would not like the way I am raising my kids nor would they understand it. They would not like the condition of my home. Even though I am obviously working on things and making changes. Some how, in the past, it seems I was expected to snap my fingers and get things done.

I hate this. I hate it with everything. I am tired of being judged. I hate having to open up my home to the judgement ( Hubbins' also has a caseworker who makes visits.) I want my privacy back and I want to be able to work on my home and feel secure. If I can't feel this in my own home where am I supposed to be able to feel it at?

I KNOW I am probably blowing things out of proportion but a huge part of how my house ended up like this was trying to hide clutter and stacks of paperwork (that I hadn't been able to get to) from the social workers to begin with. My house was pristine when the kids came and as they got comfortable my house began to look, well, like kids lived here. There was constant comments about the clutter, when before there was comments about the neatness and how I did it with 5 kids and taking care of Hubbins.

I'm trying to pull it together. I really am. We've outgrown this house and there is nothing I can do about it but organize and unfortunately with organization, at least as far as I know in my own case, comes what may look like destruction before the end result. Ya know?

If anybody would be a good judge of my home, it would be Hubbins' home health nurses who come out twice a week. I was embarrassed to have them come to my house but as projects are being completed they notice and tell me how well it's going. They also know that I am the only one doing things around here and that I am just one person and they tell me so. One of the nurses did foster care for special needs kids in the past so she knows the drill. Of course, they also see the new projects that take the place of old projects too. I joked with them last time that maybe I would have a project done when they came this coming week.

Do any of you guys feel this way or do you not have this problem?

That Mom...

I know we've circulated posts about what type of Mom we thought we would be growing up. I still have ideas on what type of Mom I might be.

Some of you may be going..."Huh? Aren't you a Mom already?" The short answer...no.

I do all the Mom things but no, I am not a Mom. I am an Aunt. I've always did the Mom things but have been the Aunt. It's all so confusing to me and if it's confusing to me I can't imagine what the kids are thinking. I'm not trying to fill my sister's place, hell, I'm not even sure she had a place.

But I know I am not their Mom and even though on good days the boy likes to call us Mom and Dad, I don't think he or any of the others really think of us that way.

Which brings me to the whole ideas of what type of Mom I might be. I keep thinking if I have bio kids, I am going to do this and I am going to do that. But I worry about what the other kids might think and feel. Will they think that I am favoring our bio kids because they are biologically ours or will they realize or be able to understand that this is the way it is in some families?

I have things that I want for them, keepsakes- scrapbooks and homemade items that I want to make sure they have because if I did have bio kids, they would have those things already.

Many people will probably think I'm wrong, but they don't know the dynamics in my home. I want to start bringing out these things and working on them in front of them and explaining to them what I am doing.

"I am making this blanket for you because if you were born to me, I would have done this for you as a baby."

I don't know if it's wrong, but I want them to know, in case we do have bio children that our children aren't being treated better or like they are special but like they should be treated and all children should be treated.

I also walk the fine line with their disorders because they can't be treated entirely "normal" yet. I don't know if we ever will have that with them. But I know they are going to grow up and most likely have families of their own and I want to model for them what a family should be like, what a Mom should be like.

I know I am failing now. I am so frustrated and confused and unsure of how to approach these issues and how to treat them and I am screwing up. I am approaching this whole situation with too much logic and problem solving and not enough human, if that makes sense?

I'm always trying to fix it and never meeting them on their level of who they really are and not a disorder or not what I need to make sure doesn't happen again.

The other day, I got into it with the oldest over dinner. I'm trying to teach her to cook (something I never learned). I was trying to teach her how to brown ground beef. I left her with exact instructions on what to do while I quickly took care of something for someone (less than 5 minutes) and when I came back she had lowered the temp and done who knows what so she could go back to her room. I called her back out...

I tried to explain to her why what she had done was wrong and what could have happened but she told me "Whatever". To which I set her straight. I believe in nipping that kind of thing in the bud.

She went off to cry and I rationalized to myself that I wasn't there to be her best friend. I only have 5 more years. I've tried to explain that to her. She wants to move out, have kids, etc...

I've tried to explain to her that I am under a tight schedule to teach her what she needs to know. She wants to have kids, how is she going to feed them if she doesn't know how to do the basics? How is she going to be independent if she doesn't learn these things? I tried to explain to her that she needs to have respect and that I am leveling with her because I want her to understand the monumental task that we have ahead of us. I told her it wasn't her fault her mother didn't teach her like she should have but I have my 5 years and I am going to do what I can...

But later, I cried about it. I don't want to hurt her. But I feel like I have to be hard. I have to try and make them understand. I can't let them go on and repeat the cycle. I can't let anymore babies suffer...

Tales from Braville...

Ok, so as if it weren't enough that the 8 and 9 year old started their periods. I had to go bra shopping...for the 8 (Poufy) year old.

At this point, I just didn't have the heart to leave the 10 year old (SS) out. Even though she shows no signs of puberty, I figured what difference would it make if I got her some too? If anything it would probably be good for that one, with her self-esteem and all.

Originally, I was going to take them with me, but while I was already at the store I decided I might as well just get them myself. I am ever so thankful that I did not bring them with me.

I don't know about anyone else, but for me, getting a bra was not a right of passage. I hated it with a passion. I cried. I did not want one. Now that I am older, I understand I really did need one. My first bra was a C cup, no training for me. It took the boys making fun of me on the bus for me to finally put one on, but OH! If only I had also knew the power I could have had back then. I was so naive.

For these girls, it seems like a bra is like an invitation to the big ball by one of the Jonas Brothers or something. Seriously, for those of you who have seen Beavis and Butthead...hehheh hehehhe hehehe. That's the sounds you heard in my house as Poufy and SS tried on their bras.

Yeesh.

I did pretty good for not having them there. I bought them sports bras for starters. I explained to them which way to put them on and sent them on their way. SS's fit her perfectly. She was so proud. I was glad I had thought to include her because it's not very often that I see a genuine smile on her face. I also knew it was important for her to have one before CDQ did. Why it is important is lost on me...

Then came Poufy, Poufy...Poufy...Poufy. I had given her the bra exactly the way she would need to simply pull it over and put it on, I was thinking there wouldn't be an issue. So, when she came out, I was taken aback about the way it was cut and the fit of it. You know how sports bras are wider in the front and a little narrower in the back, I guess for the shoulder blades?

Well.... this one was weird. It was narrow and smashing things and it looked like it might be irregular. I didn't know what to make of it. Why it didn't cross my mind that somehow this child would get mixed up and put the bra on backwards is lost on me. I guess I just assumed since I did all but put it over her head it would be on right. I had her turn around and that's when I realized it was backwards and I broke out laughing. I almost wanted to take a picture, but I thought that would be wrong and besides, I broke my camera.

Once we got that settled and she came back out the bra fit perfectly. Phew!

I still have one more period and one more bra to go and I don't even want to think about what I'll need to know about the boy...

Pressure Sores revisited

I noticed that a lot of people are popping in regarding my post on pressure sores. I just wanted to update about Hubbins' pressure sores. The one on his chest has healed nicely. It is about the size of a quarter now after having been as large as a mango. I am so happy for that. I was afraid it was going to go to the bone. Especially after we tried using silver and found out he is allergic to it and it ate away his skin and tissue.

The second pressure sore that has mostly healed was located on his bottom. It was an existing pressure sore. I don't know when or how because he already had it before I met him and it had healed. This sore heals and then opens. Like a stage 2. It doesn't tunnel. It's flat and basically the skin just breaks open and falls off and then it heals again. We think this is related to his seating system and possibly his bowel program. We will be able to know more after we are able to use the new treatment system for his bowels. I pretty much think that it is the seating system with the bowel program irritating it after the fact.

Lastly, the tunneling sore is still present. It is at 4 cm long and after we started using collagen it became very narrow. The sore for some reason will not heal from the bottom up but likes to try to heal from side to side. I worry about this because of pockets. At this point, the home health nurse thinks there is an infection because of odor. I'm not so sure. I do believe he has a UTI, which is par for the course, so they are treating him with Keflex. The nurse thinks that between the collagen and the antibiotics this sore just might close. I hope she is right. It's been a full year since the sore began. We are ready for it to get the hell out already.

So that's where they stand. I worry because we will have to have a new seating system made and of course, as those of you who have searched this out know...it can be a recipe for disaster. Which would totally suck after healing these sores.

If you are having these problems, I wish for your sores to heal rapidly. I can see the frustration, sadness and at times, anger in my Hubbins and I wish these things didn't exist.

Anxious

anx⋅ious

  [angk-shuhs, ang-] Show IPA

Use anxious in a Sentence

–adjective

1.	full of mental distress or uneasiness because of fear of danger or misfortune; greatly worried; solicitous: Her parents were anxious about her poor health.

2.	earnestly desirous; eager (usually fol. by an infinitive orfor): anxious to please; anxious for our happiness.

3.	attended with or showing solicitude or uneasiness: anxious forebodings. source: dictionary.com

Um...so that's me. Anxious. I've been without a phone since the 12th. I was expecting important calls. Very important calls. Life changing important calls. So important that I check my phone line at this time of night even though no one from whom I am expecting a call will be calling.

Finally, it works.

But now I am super anxious. Tomorrow I need to call these people. There are things that are premature that I want so desperately to blog about but if they fall through... I just don't know if I can take having them in print to taunt me.

Yesterday was not a good day. I spent the entire day in pain barely able to move. It had gotten progressively worse since Monday, but what can I do about it? Then today I get up and nothing. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining but it's aggravating.

I'm still working around the house trying to bring it together. It's slow going. Especially when I have to hobble everywhere.

I have a long day tomorrow, so I'm going to cut this short for now.

The phone works!

WHOO HOO!

That is all.

So then...

I come home... I should mention at this point that I have been working on some projects at home, a new desk for myself (my desk broke, if you can believe that.) , a new kitchen table and new chairs. I am refinishing them all. So I had just bought a new belt sander because my regular sander wasn't cutting it.

Before I can even get the sander out of the box, the power goes out and it stays off until the middle of the night practically. I had the light of my cell phone and internet access on my cell phone to pacify me through the hours. It was hot and icky and it sucked. I was never so happy to have electricity back...and of course I was upset because 4 of the things from my early trip were ice cream sandwiches, two different kinds of popsicles and drumsticks. Of course, right?

So, the next morning, I am all gung ho. I lost a ton of time yesterday and am convinced if I just push it, I will be sporting a new desk and table at the very least.

But before that, I have to go down into the well for the water. No one has reset it. I hate this...spiders, black widows, petrified mice and lizards. *shiver* But it has to be done so we can have water. I prime the well and get on to business.

I get all the table legs sanded, the drawers to the desk and the table top sanded before I decide I need to step inside. I am literally covered in sawdust and sweating like there's no tomorrow. As I sit down, the power goes out again. At this point, I am livid. I call PNM and they tell me they are aware of it in a very snotty way. I ask if it had anything to do with yesterday's outage and they don't know. Thanks for nothing...#$%^.

So we start to play the waiting game, except this time...this time... I quickly jump in the shower before the water runs out and then I head back out to the store (I did not set off the alarms) where I buy (my card works, yay!) several lanterns and a ton of batteries. I am going to be prepared. This time the outage goes until about 10 pm or so.

So, not happy.

To add insult to injury. We were switching our regular phone service to VoIP. It's cheaper and supposedly better. As I type this, I have no phone. Before that, I had no internet access other than my cell phone. Yesterday, a Qwest worker shows up and says there is a repair order. I tell him I didn't know there was one. I let him on the property. When I go out to check, he's in his truck backing out. He stops and tells me he's fixed it and we are good to go. I come back inside and we now have no dial tone.

I kid you not, 10 minutes later UPS shows up with a connection letter telling us we should be able to connect to the internet after 5 pm that very day. This being yesterday (the 13th). It's 5:15. I run the disc and nothin'. I call customer service and they tell me that they have between 5 and midnight to get it set up and basically not to bother them until after midnight if it is still not working.

Guess where I was at midnight. Customer support. Turns out the problem was my disc was no good. I was having trouble hearing the tech on my cell phone so I asked Hubbins if he could talk to the lady for me. I put my cell on speakerphone for him. The lady was talking to him and he was answering her. One thing I've noticed. As the years go on, Hubbins has gotten slower and slower at answering questions...I guess the woman made an assumption.

She was snotty with Hubbins and told him that he needed to stop doing things on the computer and listen to her. She was very condescending.

Hubbins actually said "FU" to her. I was mortified and proud at the same time. I flew across my bed and grabbed the phone. I told her that she was mistaken. He was disabled, a quadriplegic and that means he has no use of his arms or legs. He wasn't even near a computer.

I guess she didn't understand. She didn't apologize or anything. Personally, having been a tech and a supervisor. She would have been fired by me. Honestly, NIC line??? I know most out there aren't going to know what the heck I am talking about...but she said that to me when were talking wireless and the two don't even go together. She was just talking out of her butt.

I hate that about the qwest techs. They act all holier than thou. I have my degrees in this crap and I know it's been a while but pllllease stop with the blowing of the smoke. You have a script, you are tier 1. If you compare it in the tech world to food service, you are barely taking the orders at Mickey D's...they won't even let you touch the food yet...you know?

I never say anything bad to them, I never tell them I have my degrees in this field or anything like that. I let them do their show. But common courtesy and basic respect is definitely in order.

Anyway, we finally got our internet up and other than her giving us the correct password, we had no use for her after that.

Like I said, I have no phone. I mean, I do but I don't. When I call it just rings and I can't seem to make the connection. *sigh*

I wrote the above the day before yesterday or was it yesterday, anyhow...the days are all running together! I finally got some help...from T-mobile. Turns out I am once again the hostage of qwest. They have to release my line so it can be ported over. They have until the 20th to do it.

Not.happy.with.qwest.

T-mobile...excellent service... and of course I am not paid to say any of those things. lol

but the joke wasn't over...

Ok, so I've been a little MIA because and here goes the story...it might seem untrue but I can assure you... it's all true.

Let's see, let's start with my trip to the store...this was after Poufy's new announcement (see previous post). I get to the store, you know...the one with the greeters at the door. I go in and immediately set the alarms off. I'm all like, I just walked in people...

I tell them that it's probably my digital camera because at the point, I think I am still carrying it with me. So, I go on in and run around and get my stuff. Then I go to check out in the garden center. There is no one there and I'm thinking I am a genius. Until I realize the reason why there is no one there. The cashier is beyond slllllow. I'm taking hangers off clothes, ordering items for her. She was doing it on purpose. I am convinced. She would put two things in a bag, gather the bag, walk it around her station and put it in my cart. Repeat times a million. BTW, I bought less than 15 items.

Meanwhile, there is a man with a bike tire and a box of bottled water. He's waiting...10 minutes...15 minutes...at 20 minutes... he puts his stuff down on the counter. This because I decided to use the gift card I've been carrying since last year I think...of course it doesn't work and then she needs a manager.

The manager gets there, he calls for back up because there are now 3 people in line behind me. Back up comes and the bitches people behind the man rush around him and form a line. He looks over and shakes his head. I'm thinking, "uh, hello cashier, how about saying next in line or something?"

Finally, 36 minutes later, I am checked out. I apologize to the guy, I say loudly he should have been served next and I head towards the exit. Hallelujah!

But then I set off the alarm AND it's a different greeter AND I forgot I set it off when I came in. So we go through the stuff in the cart. Finally, I decided to lift my purse and wave it at the sensors. Yep! Bingo!

I explain to the lady that I have my digital camera. So I'm digging through my purse...Oh, wait. I don't have it. The cat did something cute and I took it out. Shoot. I tell her she is more than welcome to go through my purse and I apologize that it's a mess. She says it's fine, she doesn't want to go through my purse. So then I start to take things out one by one and it's my wallet. The one with all my debit cards and credit cards and all that good stuff. I hand it to her and she waves it in front of the sensor and sure enough. I'm telling her I bought that wallet there months ago and she says there is probably still a strip in there. I'm putting stuff back in my purse and the man who was in line behind me passes me and says "wow, I guess you are having a bad day". I'm thinking if only he knew. Meanwhile, before I realize it, the greeter says... I'll fix it for you. I'll just demagnetize it for you and I hear the bleep from the scanner doohickey. I just stare at her and she is so pleased with herself. "There, it's all fixed now" she says, totally pleased with herself.

I take my wallet from her in utter shock, but I can't really do anything about it because she is SOOOO fricken happy. She's solved a problem. I don't say anything to her about demagnetizing my life while she was at it. I just go out to the van, take out my cell and call my Hubbins... "Really, you won't believe what just happened to me..."

To be continued...

Ok, I give, I give...this has to be a bad joke.

Poufy started her period. She is 8.

This can't be right.

Adventures in Babysitting...

So, I know it's been a while since my babysitting post. I haven't posted about that because I've been dealing with the aftermath of bringing a babysitter in.

I know that sounds like it's been bad...but actually it wasn't. If I had thought of it sooner, it would have been practically non-existent.

The babysitter was great. She only had to talk to the boy once. But of course I think we all knew they were going to be perfect right? We had hired the babysitter for 3 hours, thinking an hour before the appointment and an hour after, the appointment was only supposed to last 30 minutes. Hubbins and I had thought we could squeeze dinner in after, but unfortunately the office was backed up and even though our appointment was at 4 pm we weren't seen until 5 pm, which made us late getting back. Luckily she could stay and it was all ok. When we got home all were in good spirits and we had a great dinner. It was a perfect day.

Of course, the next morning CDQ and (by default practically since they are in the same room) Poufy were trying to give us a hard time. Saturday, I just decided to nip it in the bud. I simply yelled to all in the house "Just because you had a babysitter come in doesn't mean you have to act all RAD and think all the rules go out the window. You don't have RAD so you don't have that problem." Poof...it all stopped. This after constantly nagging telling them to cut it out already. Just like that...stopped...I mean like completely. Weird huh? I'm not going to question it, I'm just going to roll with it. In fact, I am fully prepared for the next behavioral issue...whatever it be, I'm going to just announce that Just because A doesn't mean B...because RAD doesn't exist. (Sounds like I am typing this more for myself. lol)

That may end up being this Thursday considering the fact that Hubbins and I are almost sure we will be going to see Harry Potter on Wednesday. Our first official all by ourselves date in over a year...in fact, we had figured out it had been over a year since we had been just us by ourselves sans kids. Crazy huh?

Conversations with a 13 year old...

Tonight Hubbins and I were talking about the show In Living Color. If you've never seen it you can go to youtube and search for it, they are hilarious.

The oldest was finishing in the kitchen and she was wondering what we were talking about so we were telling her some of the skits we remembered.

She thought we were talking about a certain comedian. The things she was saying made me think she was talking about Dave Chapelle. I just found out about him this year one night when I was flipping through the channels...so not cool. This time, I wasn't surprised that she knew about Dave Chapelle...still a little angry considering she was 10 when she moved here and she most certainly hasn't seen him on my TV, yet she knew about him...argh.

Anyhow... I didn't want to say the name so I asked:

"Is he vulgar?"

Her: "No, he's African American."

Me: puzzled look...then I burst into a fit of laughter as I grabbed Hubbins wrist and asked him if he heard what she said.

Hubbins: (without missing a beat) "No, he's not Vulgarian."

By this point, I am nearly rolling on the floor. The oldest is confused...laughing nervously but confused.

Her: "Well! I don't know what vulgar is!"

obviously... LOL!

A few days ago, the oldest came in my room and we were talking about celebrities and crushes. She asked me if I had a crush on John Mayer. I'm a bit embarrassed. I don't know who John Mayer is. I told her that and she looked at me suspiciously. She said he was a singer. I asked her if I had any of his songs (yeah, I don't even know the names of the people I listen to. *blush*) She told me I didn't. So I was really confused. I still don't know where she was going with that but she got an earful from me about stalkers, weirdoes and celebrity crushes.

She asked me if people made fun of Prince like they did with Michael Jackson.

See the oldest is a huge MJ fan. I mean HUGE! I was beside myself when I had to tell her he passed.

When she was younger I took her to the San Diego zoo. When we got to the gorilla exhibit, they were gone due to renovations. She burst into tears. I finally coaxed out of her what the problem was. She fully believed she was going to meet Michael Jackson by the gorillas at the zoo. Since they weren't there, he wasn't there. I did eventually calm her and took pictures of her by the gorilla statues that were there. At the same time I wanted to laugh because it was cute, but I felt so bad for her.

We talked about that day and her reaction. MJ was something that was a constant in her life. She had his cds and could listen to them when ever she needed to. He was always there to pick her up when no one else was. I don't even think she thinks of it this way...but hearing her talk about him. She projected and made him her safety. I know what that's like... when I was little I projected everything on the IBM building downtown, back then it was the tallest building and I could see it from my Grandmother's house where I lived. If I could just be smart enough and good enough to work there...I would make it out.

Anyhow, the reason I know she did this is because out of nowhere she said "It's so weird, I remember you and what you used to look like, at the zoo and that summer you tutored me and just all my life I can remember what you look like. You're always in the back of my head. Sometimes Grandma, not my mom or anything. Just you, clearly... like you were always there."

It took everything for me not to breakdown and cry. For almost a decade I fought and tried to protect them and I felt like I failed them all... especially her. My mind knows that I did everything I could legally do to help her but my heart hurts because I feel like I should have done more. But just knowing that she feels that way and remembers that... I could just cry. She's knows I never gave up. That means everything to me.