The Crab Chronicles

Hectic Day for The Old Moron Mama

I knew it was going to be a bad day when I woke up at 5:30 a.m. and stumbled into the bathroom, and my head felt like it was being pinched in a vise. I choked down 2 Motrin and tried to go back to sleep. I dreamed about hanging out with President Obama, and he had an Asian girlfriend. I try to avoid the political so I’ll leave it up to you to decide if that was a happy dream or a nightmare. I don’t know. I just know it was weird. 

 

I am trying to get Michael and me downstairs, get the garbage put out on the curb, grab my lunch out of the fridge, and Coco comes flying up the stairs and throws herself in the middle of Alesia’s bed. I go in after her. She has burrowed under the covers like I know you can’t see me, just leave already!! I have to grab 10 lbs. of wriggling dog and haul her downstairs, while hollering at Michael to get a move on. The word “hurry” means nothing to him.

 

 I had to get a lot done at the post office this morning before work. I mailed off a box of presents to our friend Miss Jean in Asheville. She is almost 90 and this is her first Christmas without her brother, so we wanted to do something special and we wrapped up a bunch of little gifts for her and sent them. It’s cheaper than all of us going there. I also finally got mailed off the box of presents for the little girl in Kazakhstan I sponsor through Antares Foundation, and in the same box a gift for Mike’s friend Denis. I also mailed off 25 Christmas cards. Now, it’s almost Christmas, right? Busiest time of the mailing year? Guess how many clerks were working behind the counter. One. Yep, one older lady who looked like someone had peed in her cornflakes. She scared me. I wanted to say THESE ARE PRESENTS FOR ORPHANS LADY!! Lighten UP! However, I didn’t want her to jump over the counter and hit me with the display of holiday stamps which I had carelessly knocked over when I was putting everything on the counter. I also didn’t want her to re-route my gifts to the arctic circle...

 

 Then I go to McDonalds and they give me sweet tea that is not sweet. I am southern. I need sweet tea. It’s like an IV for me when I haven’t had enough sleep, and the lemon gives me a little vitamin C boost. So all morning I am forced to drink tea that tastes like it was made in a rusty box.

 

I came home and had to find Michael’s prosthetic, which was under a pile of clothes in his bedroom. I went and checked him out of school and we went to Children’s, for him to be casted for a new prosthetic arm. He has completely outgrown the other arm he got 2 years ago.

 

We left there and came home and got Coco. She has to go to the vet and get her nails cut. Michael is very good with her now that he is bigger. For a long time he was nervous around Coco, but now he has decided he loves her and plays with her and loves on her all the time. It’s so sweet. We don’t mind paying the $ to get her nails trimmed professionally. Her nails are so tiny it makes us all too nervous.

 

We came home and had a few minutes, then Mike had a tennis lesson. It’s bitter cold today, temps in the 30’s and 40’s. I went to get him at 6 so he wouldn’t have to walk home in the cold and he was out there looking casual in shorts. The other children were bundled up a lot more. Right now in Petropavlovsk, it’s 25 below, according to Cindy's blog.

 

Alesia went to bible study with her friend Elena. When she got back I asked what they had talked about. Alesia looked at me like wow, you are so dense, and said “Jesus! We always talk about Jesus! And there was a lot of food.” Have to admire those Presbyterians for serving up the bible with lots of hors d’ouvres…;-)

 

While she was gone, Michael and I worked on a report he has to do for school, an example of expository writing. He chose to write about Will Smith. I am now an expert on all things Will Smith. I was sort of surprised to see he is over 40 now. I pointed out to Mike that Will Smith is only 6 years younger than me. Michael looked aghast. “Dang! He is OLD!”

 

My kids think I am a moron and older than dirt. I can remember thinking the same things about my parents when I was a teenager. The great circle of life…

 

  

Poor old thing.... 

A Very Special Teddy Bear

I will never forget Michael's excitement two years ago when he went to camp for the first time. He had been so scared to go, but then when I went to pick him up, he jumped off the bus and ran to give me a big hug, a huge grin on his face. He had been so thrilled to be around other boys who have a limb difference. For once, he was in a group where he felt "normal" and around boys who could relate to his feelings. Both years he had been to the Adventure Amputee camp, I have seen a surge in his self-confidence when he got back. It's truly a blessing.

All kids with limb differences grow up feeling different. Parenting such a child requires a level of dedication I didn't know I had until I became Michael's mom. I have felt very supported by a wonderful Yahoo group for adoptive parents of kids with limb differences. Most of the kids come from China, but a few, like Mike, are from Eastern Europe.

A mom named Amy posted the story below yesterday, and I was so intrigued with it I asked her permission to post what she had written. It's a lovely story.

Our daughter is missing her right arm and after her first Shriner's visit in March, we went to Build-A-Bear. Our daughter picked out her bear and we went to dinner. While we were at dinner, the Build-A-Bear worker took off the bears right arm and sewed it up perfectly!! We came back and she picked out the outfit and stuffed it like all the other bears!! It was a great afternoon for our daughter and the store worker was great! If we went back again, I think I'd call ahead to make sure someone would do it, BUT she said it wasn't their first request for an 'amputee' bear. It's by far her favorite stuffed animal.
-Amy

 

Holiday Looking Back

It’s been a weird holiday, both enjoyable and a bit tense. The kids kept asking me to socialize with their friends. I said nope, the holiday is about hanging out with family, it’s family time. Bruce has seemed rather tense, too, but not for any reason I can identify. He is very private, unlike me.

 

I decided not to do the model photo shoot, for several reasons. One, it’s a big expense. Two, a friend of mine told me there’s very little work for models in Atlanta now. Three, I measured Alesia and it seems she’s not over 5’5 – she measured at 5’4 ½. Even though she has long legs and arms and doesn’t wear petites, it’s doubtful she’s going to get work at that height, from what I’ve heard and read. She didn’t seem to be upset when I told her. The photographer was nice about it.

 

We spent most of the day yesterday just relaxing. We did go to the movies yesterday afternoon – Ninja Assasin. Really bloody. Cartoonish violence. The lead actor is a young man named “Rain” who is amazing. I like movies like Crouching Tiger, but this was hard to watch, for a number of reasons. I found it really hard to watch scenes of orphans being mistreated.

 

We had a quiet dinner last night, but it was good. We had turkey, dressing, squash casserole, eggplant parmigiana, and cranberry sauce. Bruce fixed the eggplant, which he likes.

 

Today, it was all about decorating. We got the tree up and the inside of the house decorated. Tomorrow, Bruce has promised to help us with the outside decorations.  Mike had fun decorating the tree. He and Alesia put it up with no help or supervision.

 

Y’all remember this post about dealing with limb differences from a short while back? The author, Jim DeWees, was on his way to Disneyworld and stopped here and we had lunch at Fuddruckers. He’s a super nice guy, very interesting. His son is adorable. It’s always fun to meet another adoptive parent I’ve met online, in this case a Yahoo group for adoptive parents of limb-difference kids.

 

Lesleigh came over for dinner tonight, although I could not deal with leftover turkey. I’m not crazy about turkey anyway. We had country-fried steak, bisquits, the rest of the squash casserole, and some avocados, which everyone likes except me. Lesleigh looked good, although her hair looks quite peculiar.

 

Back to real life tomorrow…

More Rants and Raves from the Major Weirdo

As I've said before, many times, I am a Major Weirdo. Proud to be one. I relish my weirdness. I revel in it. I LIVE to embarrass my kids with my weirdness. It's my newest hobby. How dadgum boring would the world be if it weren't for weirdos.

I signed up for Napster so I could buy music, and now I can't think of anything to buy. Suddenly, every song I've ever grooved to on the radio has been wiped clean from my memory, and I stare at the Napster Search button and cannot recall a single good song.

I finally found some songs by Michael Buble. His version of "Cry Me A River," is pretty impressive, but not as impressive as Barbra. That girl gave it some drama, some topspin. Buble is talented, but too young. He won't cry a river, just maybe a thermos-full is all I could envision. Plus, I can't help but get tickled every time I say "boob-lay." It's the inner child in me, the inner adolescent that wants to giggle every time I hear it. It sounds like some naughty toy. Plus, his voice quality is such that he sounds like Barry Manilow's love child, doesn't he?? Has Barry heard Michael Buble??

 
Here he is, the Buble boy... Looks like a young Johnny Cash, sounds like Barry Manilow. Hmmmm...

I was HORRIFIED BEYOND BELIEF to see that some magazine voted JOHNNY DEPP as the Sexiest Man alive. HUH?!?! Were they smoking crack?! He just looks nasty to me, like he hasn't had a bath or shaved or had a haircut in months.. Looks like he needs to be scrubbed down with a wire brush and hosed off before I would let him come near me. If I saw him walking down the street, I'd scoot out of his way. Now, I will admit he cleans up OK. He is also a great actor. He's nearly as old as I am, and yes, us old hags can still be incredibly sexy (cough cough) but Depp as THE SEXIEST man walking?! I think not.

 

I have had my cell phone for 5 years and I do NOT want another. Ever. I want to have a cell phone other people see and snicker at. My kids snicker every time I pull out the little antenna on it. They roll their eyes when I tell them I will NOT text. Ever. I had my first cell phone for so many years, the last person I showed it to thought it was a toy phone. It was HUGE. It had a long cord where I plugged it into the car cigarette lighter. I didn't care. I only replaced after 9/11 because Mom wanted me to have a phone I could throw in my purse AND it would still work without being plugged into the cigarette lighter. Picky picky.   

I am playing Springsteen's classic song Pink Cadillac for the kids. They don't appreciate his genius. Alesia likes to laugh at me when I'm groovin.' She came in, took one look at me and said "You got a WORM in your butt, Mom?!" Laugh kid. Go ahead. One day you'll be groovin' despite your arhuritis and your kids will laugh at you and YOU WON"T CARE - if I raised you right...

 "Riding in the back, oozin' down the street..." Genius. "Honey I just wonder what it feels like in the back of your PINK CADILLAC?!" They don't know what's good. Youth is wasted on the young. "My LOVE is bigger than a Honda. It's bigger than a Subaru... We can park it out in back and have a party in your Pink Cadillac." I love the way he sings PANK CADILLAC..... I grew up mostly in East Tennessee where everyone said pank.

I've had kind of a crappy day, but Bruce cheered me up.

Here's a good video version of it:

 

When he first started singing I was thinking Bruce was looking a little long in the tooth, a bit like Robert DeNiro. By the end of the song you know what? I am htinking HE should've been voted Sexiest Man Alive. Who do I contact about that?!!!

Dealing With Attention to a Limb Difference

I saw a post on one of my Yahoo groups the other day and it affected me greatly, because Michael deals with some degree of self-consciousness about his limb difference every time he goes outside our home. I seldom think about it, but he is reminded of his difference all the time.

The Yahoo group is for adoptive parents of children with limb differences. I asked the post's author, Jim DeWees, for permission to excerpt here what he said, and he kindly agreed. Jim is a single dad, and lost part of his leg to frostbite a few years ago. He has a son with the same limb difference as Michael. So Jim can totally understand how it feels to have to encounter stares and comments about being a person with a limb difference, and he has a great way of dealing with the attention.

"I adopted a son from China a little over 2 years ago. He is missing his right hand at his wrist joint, and has little fingers there on the ball of flesh where his hand should be.

He is turning 8 on Saturday, and it aware of his "difference" and deals with it really well. He went through a period where he really tried to hide it when we were in public, and at times will still do that if he notices kids looking at it, or staring at his little hand.

Many times we have been in places like the Children's Museum, or in a line at Disneyworld, or any public place, and children have asked questions like "What happened to his hand?" or "Where's his hand" or things like that. At first, the natural response would be to snap back at them and make them feel bad or hurt, but that doesn't really fix the situation.

I also have a prosthetic leg, and have had it for about 12 years now (after an accident in 1998), and so I can relate to Cameron's situation and have an advantage here, because I can always divert the kid's attention from Cameron to my own prosthetic leg. My leg isn't cosmetic at all, no skin or cover on it. I make prosthetics for a living and so am basically surrounded by amputees every day, all day, and it is just a "way of life" now. I have many different legs, and the one I wear the most is orange. The next favorite one is yellow, then I also have one with Mickey Mouse on it when we go to Disneyworld or Disneyland. I also have a black running leg, swimming leg, a red one, blue one, etc....

So I ask the curious child, or adult at times, if they have ever seen a prosthetic leg or anyone that wears a leg....and they generally say something like "On TV" or something. Or some will say that there is a kid at school with something, or a cousin has some issue of some sort, and start a small conversation with them.

Also, another BIG help is I will ask the child if they have seen Finding Nemo, and remember how he had his lucky little fin??? Well, this is Cameron's lucky little hand, and that makes him special, but it doesn't slow him down or anything.... .

The children always say, Oh Yeah, I remember, and then will say "Cool, that's really cool". And, then Cameron is like a proud little kid again, and goes away from this thinking that he is really special and that it's all ok.

Nobody ends up with hurt feelings, or feeling like a special moment or time was ruined by someone who was curious, or even rude.

In all honesty, in the past 12 years with me dealing with wearing a prosthesis, and having been all over the world (literally), I have had SO MANY situations where people are curious about my leg, and some will ask, some will just stare....some are polite and decent about it, and others are just not "socially gifted" with knowing what to say or being polite....although I have never come across anyone that has intentionally tried to be rude or insulting.

I have taken the time, many times, to gently educate a curious child about this, and turn it into a positive, teaching moment. And that has really been a great way to help this society get over some of the social hang-ups and issues.

I am NOT saying that what anyone has expressed here are "wrong" or "bad". I can totally understand this. There have been times when I have been kind of cranky or in a rush, or upset by something, and the last thing I needed was some kid making some comment, and then hear the parent say something like, "Don't look at that, or don't talk to him, or don't point", and it is usually the parent that is the one to blame for these situations. They should know better, but they are the ones with the problem..... and so I understand at that point of wanting to make some smart-a.... comment back to them, but I have refrained. The ONLY time I can remember making a comment to anyone was when I was in China, and they called Cameron a "Damaged Child" and asked why I would come all the way to China, and pay so much money for a damaged child.....and so I asked this woman (who was of the upper class of society there, and spoke perfect English) is she thought I was also Damamged and worthless... and she said, Yes, and she wondered how I could provide for myself and a child....

Boy, I came unglued with her, and told her that I live in a house that is bigger than she could ever possibly own in China, and that I make more money in a year than what most people in China make in their lifetime, and that Cameron's future is totally wide open, and there are NO limitations in MY country for him, people won't even care or notice anything about his hand, and the sky is the limit for him in the USA....SO, I was adopting him to get him out of the awful, cruel society of China, and taking him to a wonderful place to live. She was kind of shocked, and taken back by my remarks. I also went on to say that the reason I am adopting him is because he is probably smarter than she is, and also he has a much bigger heart in him that she did, and I can't stand the thought of this child being thrown away as garbage in their country. In fact, he is the LUCKY one on that train, because he was born with an issue, and abandoned, and that is his ticket to get out of that country.

Well, I don't HATE China by any means. And I don't hate their culture or society..... BUT, I do not like most of the attitude of these foreign countries who still have labels and reject anyone that has a difference like this.

But, we need to remember that it wasn't too long ago in the USA when anyone with a difference was basically put in a place out of sight and in an institution. They used to have "Homes for Crippled Children", for any child that needed braces for his/her legs, or who was missing limbs, or had spinabifda, etc. It has been in the last 50 years where the USA has become more tolerant or accepting of people with differences.

OK, enough said I think. But, I encourage you to all take the time to help educate the people that have questions and all. It is going to take another generation for people to understand about prosthetics and missing limbs, and the children today can grow up realizing that using a prosthetic limb doesn't mean that the person is less than equal or anything.

Take the time to use the Nemo comment, and that this is his lucky leg or lucky arm/hand... that usually breaks the ice and makes the conversation and situation turn to a positive situation.

If I got offended or upset everytime someone looked at Cameron or me, and made a comment or asked.....I would be upset most of my life, and EVERY outing we have had would have been a bad experience.. ..

So, I try to make everything more positive.

I really hope this helps and doesn't offend anyone.

Thanks and good luck."

Jim DeWees

[FINAL NOTE: If you are on Facebook, friend me and I will send you an invitation to join the group on there for parents of children with limb differences, if that's your situation too.]

Chicken and Dresses

Again, it's a slow news day in my world. Michael got his prosthetic hand adjusted and now it fits much better. Yay! He's a happy camper. 

I made chicken and rice in the crock pot for dinner. It's very easy. Dump some chicken filets in the crock pot with lots of chicken stock, a diced onion, some butter, a cup or two of white wine, and 1-2 teaspoons of Herbes de Provence, my new favorite spice. Add in the rice an hour before you want to eat. The smell permeating the house is heavenly.

Talk show host Craig Ferguson did this joke yesterday:

"Obama has other speeches planned this week. The next is for Congress. Congress and school children are very different of course . . . one is an unruly bunch of maniacs who pick their noses and read at grade-school level . . . the other is school children."

That reminds me of my favorite lawyer joke. "What's the difference between a catfish and a lawyer?"

One is a scum-swilling bottom feeder. The other is a fish.

Alesia has been asked to her Homecoming Dance at school. She has not gone to any dances before, so I am having to figure out what to do, especially since money is tight these days. When I was in high school, in the Jurassic period, this was a typical prom dress:

Now, things are a bit more, um, risque. I don't want her looking like an extra in a Madonna video...

 

HELP!!!!

Mike to Camp

Michael is becoming such a young man, almost as tall as me, and weighing close to 100 lbs. now. He is still a little boy in so many ways, though, as I was reminded when I dropped him off at camp early this morning.

 

He was really cranky yesterday when we were trying to get him packed. It took all of us – Mother talking to him and helping him with laundry, Alesia helping him pack, me coming in for a last-minute check. He didn’t want to take a towel or shampoo, although I pointed out the necessity of those items. He didn’t want to go to sleep last night. He didn’t like how the sleeping bag was tied, so I re-tied it at 6:02 this morning. He didn’t want any breakfast, and I had to badger him to eat some pilmeni. He got mad because we left at 7 a.m.

 

Finally, when we got to the departure point at Children’s Healthcare, he said “I changed my mind. I don’t want to go.” He repeated that several times. I ignored him.

 

He glared at me when I hugged him and kissed his forehead. I assured him he would have fun.

 

However, last year he was much worse. He was a pill for days before he left. He had no idea what to expect. This year, he knows he will have fun. He just doesn’t like to leave his comfort zone.

 

The Adventure Amputee Camp is WONDERFUL. Kids with limb differences always feel different and often embarrassed. The camp gives them a chance to be around other kids like themselves, and they don’t feel self-conscious. Every kid is missing a limb or part of one. Yet, they get to do whitewater rafting, water skiing, a ropes course, horseback riding, etc. They bond with each other. The staff treats them all just like any kid, and nobody feels "different." It's a terrific thing. All kids can go regardless of ability to pay. They do need donations. Please donate if you can.

 

Alesia has had a totally girly day.

 

I picked up her BFF, Elena, and took the girls to Target to shop. Elena gave her a Target gift card, so she was able to buy several things, including a purse. She has about 25 purses. She rarely takes on anywhere. She also has maybe 2 dozen pairs of shoes. What does she wear all the time? Flip flops. She bought a new pair today.

 

We had lunch at Shorty's Pizza, a locally owned pizza place that has excellent food. Mother didn’t go. She doesn’t care for the food. Alesia likes their thin crust pizza.

 

I took the girls to see Ice Age 2, and I didn’t go. I was impressed by Ice Age I and I could see no value to a sequel. I got so little sleep last night I knew I’d fall asleep in the movie and likely start snoring.

 

I got a lot of reading done today. I am reading the latest book by Mary Kay Andrews, The Fixer Upper . It’s light and entertaining. That’s all I was in the mood for today.

 

I have felt draggy and discombobulated all day. It’s hard to accept the fact that getting only 6 ½ hours of sleep was my regular routine every night for years. Now I crave my 8+ hours, and I feel so much better if I get that sleep. I read somewhere that sleep deprivation is the biggest health issue facing Americans. Of course, I read that dehydration was also the biggest issues, and I drink tons of water. Who knows. I just know I will pay more attention to sleeping better from now on.

 

 

Oh, the Finding Prayer is nothing formal. I just ask God to help me find whatever it is that I’m missing. It always works, but you have to be patient.

 

My Paper Baby

I got up early today and puttered around, stripping the sheets off my bed, drinking my early morning water, and it occurred to me to check Amazon and see if they had my book listed. I didn’t really think it was. I sat down at the computer, and THERE IT WAS! My book baby! Staring at me! I felt like whooping and hollerin’ and doing a Snoopy dance, but I didn’t want to wake the sleeping teens. I’d sooner waken a cottonmouth moccasin with a sharp stick.

Functioning in a normal manner has been a challenge today. My mind is a million miles away. I am only in my body as a guest, not an inhabitant, it feels like. I was on I-285 this morning zipping along and I realized I had been singing along with the car radio for 15 minutes and I couldn’t name a single song I’d been singing. I came back to full consciousness and found myself singing the Eagles song Take It To The Limit, which is a song I really don’t even like. For me, that was the equivalent of waking up naked and hungover, next to a stranger. [Not that I’ve ever done that.]

The last time I felt so discombobulated was when I first learned I was going to Russia for my daughter’s adoption hearing. I was so out of it that day that I forgot to vote in a presidential election. I was fixing to become a first-time mama to a 13 year old who spoke no English, though, so I had my reasons for being preoccupied, OK?!

Today, ironically, I don’t have to travel to the other side of the world to undergo a life-changing experience, but the reason I feel so weird has everything to do with my daughter’s adoption. My book Adopting Alesia is like my baby, my paper baby. [OK, I’m not going to get weird here, don’t worry…]

So, and I don’t want to belabor this, BUY a copy today! Review it on Amazon!

OR, leave me a comment. Why? Because I am having A CONTEST. Yay! Leave me a comment saying any crazy thing that comes into your head, I don’t care what as long as it’s clean, and I will draw names of two commenters and send them a free autographed copy of the book. I ask only that you read it and review it on Amazon for me. [If you can say something nice; if not, don’t say anything at all; that’s what my mama taught me..]  Reviews are not hard to do, and you get my undying gratitude AND a free book. How cool is that?!

Also, for local folks, just a heads up. I am having an Open House on Sunday, June 28, from 4-7, and you are welcome to come by and have a snack, and get your book signed. I will have copies to purchase, then, too.

This was made of the two of us just a couple of weeks after she came home in December 2004, and a more recent shot of her..

 

 

NOW BACK TO REAL LIFE

When I got home yesterday, the kids were in the back yard throwing a tennis ball back and forth. Bruce bought them a softball and a glove, so why they were throwing a tennis ball was a mystery. I went inside and asked Mother, who answered with steam practically coming our of her ears.

“I looked outside and Alesia was throwing that ball at Michael as hard as she could throw it. He was doubled over, trying to catch it! It obviously hurt his hand, and he was catching barehanded! And, Michael was standing with his back to the house! They could’ve broken a window!”

Mother is the child of a major league baseball pitcher. She was, um, irked.

“So I called Alesia over and told her, you can’t throw the ball that hard, it will hurt his hand! And she just said ‘no, I wasn’t throwing it that hard…’ and I TOLD her then, IF HE BREAKS THAT HAND YOU ARE GOING TO BE THE ONE WIPING HIS BEHIND!’

Mother paused for breath. I asked quietly, “OK, and?”

“Well she didn’t miss a beat, she just said Michael, get the tennis ball!”

 One of my favorite qualities about my mother is that she is so quiet and calm and diplomatic. I inherited that from her.

[snicker]

Alesia, aside from having a strong throwing arm, is becoming an excellent cook. She has helped Mother so many times that she is really developing a repertoire of dinners she can cook, and cook well. Last night I started making our version of Shepherd’s Pie, and she stepped in and shooed me out of the kitchen and finished it. It was very tasty, too. The thing I love about Shepherd’s Pie is that it is a one dish meal.

How we make Shepherd’s Pie: take 1 lb. of ground sirloin and brown it. Season it with salt, pepper, garlic powder, onion salt or powder [or you can cook onions and stir them in if you have time], generous shots of soy sauce and red wine or sherry. We don’t like bland beef. In a casserole dish, spoon the beef and then layer the other ingredients. We use next a layer of green peas, then a layer of mashed potatoes, then a layer of cheese. Alesia loves butter and she made extra mashed potatoes [from a box] and added 3 tablespoons of butter! Because she loves butter! [Nobody in my house has high cholesterol, fortunately.]

I had to help Mother get a bath, so when that was done I went to check on things with dinner, and it was done. She had also put new placemats on the table, set the table, and even gotten water for herself and Michael. The only teeny mistake was that she had forgotten to turn off the oven, but Mother fixed that.

Tonight, she helped Mother cook a pork roast.

Michael came home from tennis camp today, and finally took a shower. He had wriggled out of it yesterday and I didn’t realize it until I noticed his hair around bedtime. So he showers, then comes back downstairs in his sweaty, dirty clothes! He said he had no clean clothes. Mother hit the ceiling. Alesia saved Michael’s butt by finding him some clean shorts and a shirt, in his room. He doesn’t know where things are in his own room. Mother says testosterone addles men’s brains. I am starting to agree with her.

Michael and Granny and I had a mediation tonight before bed. Granny agreed to not bark at him like a drill sergeant, which she has done occasionally, and he agreed to do what she tells him. Of course, she only barks when she is irked with him, and her bark is worse than her bite. Michael gets triggered when someone speaks to him very authoritatively – when he was with his birthmom that tone of voice meant he was going to get hit, so when he hears it he freezes up and can’t think. We never hit the kids, of course. However, Mother has agreed to modify her tone sometimes and Mike has to do what he’s asked without excuses.

 

I told Mother if he doesn’t keep his part of the agreement, he is to be sent to his room for the rest of the day. I hope that won’t be necessary, but who knows. He will likely forget and get sent to his room at least once, but so be it. We have to be able to control him now, or he will be out of control soon, and he’s getting bigger and stronger every day.

 

He’s basically a sweet kid, and he and Mother get along well 90% of the time, but there are times, like today, when he stresses her out, and vice versa. So I hope we can compromise and learn to coexist peacefully…

What I Love About Being a Baby Mama

My friend Suzanne Kamata, who edited the excellent new book Call Me Okaasan [read it now!] tagged me to say 5 Things I Love About Being a Mom. You can see her responses  here. I heartily agree with all her responses.

1.      My Kids make me laugh. We have so many funny moments each day, I never have time to write them all day. One day I asked Alesia if she was hungry and said no – she almost always says yes. Michael immediately piped up and said “Wait 15 minutes!”

2.      My kids learn so rapidly, and I love to teach them, particularly about things like history, and literature and art. I love to watch movies with them and talk to them about what we can learn from each film.

3.      My kids help me to keep my perspective on life. I used to obsess over stupid stuff like wearing perfectly coordinated outfits, and fashionable shoes. I actually wrote down every outfit I wore, every day, so I didn’t repeat it too soon. Now I am happy to wear just black pants and not worry about the color of my shirt, or if my shoes coordinate.

4.      My kids amaze me by how well they have adapted to America, and our family. They already know American songs, slang words, fashion, etc. We were watching a movie the other night about people landing on an island and having to adapt to life there, and Alesia said “That was what it was like for me. If I can do it, they can do it.”

5.      I love seeing my children grow and be healthy, mentally as well as physically. When Michael first came home he was afraid of everything. He wouldn’t get in the pool unless I got in with him, and was always in reach. Now he swims like a fish and rides his bike and walks all over the neighborhood. At first, I had to stay with him until he fell asleep at night, with the overhead light on. Now he sleeps in the dark, and we say prayers, I kiss him goodnight, and he’s fine.

I filled out and mailed in the application for Michael to go to the Adventure Amputee Camp again this year. He had such a wonderful time last year. It really did amazing things for his self-confidence, to be able to be around a group of kids who all had limb differences, so for once he didn’t feel odd or embarrassed. If you click here you will see some scenes of camp life. [The group photo of folks in yellow has Mike in it, but he’s hard to spot – bottom row, kind of middle.] Mike got to go white water rafting, horseback riding, do a ropes course, and play tennis, all for the first time. He won the camp tennis tournament and came home bubbling over with excitement about the sport, and within a short time I was able to get him a coach and a place on the neighborhood tennis team. Now tennis is a passion of his. Most of the time, in his tennis matches, his missing hand is hardly noticeable. He can serve with his special prosthetic and his serve is better than some kids who have two hands. So many blessings flowed from that camp experience. I hope and pray he can go again this year, although space is very limited.

PRODUCT RANT

I am seriously debating about getting a new refrigerator. The old one is falling apart. It’s over 15 years old. We like to keep appliances until they are antiques, but it’s in really sad shape. The bottom shelf is broken and you have to be sporting huge rippling muscles to get the vegetable drawer open. The icemaker requires a pickaxe if you want ice, half the time. The last time I contemplated cleaning it out I had to stifle the urge to get a chainsaw and just put it out of our misery. It’s only good at holding up photos, right now.

If you are in the Atlanta area or have an opinion about where to obtain new appliances at a discount, please drop me a comment. If you just have an opinion as to what brand of fridge is the best, let me know that, too.

BABY MAMA

Last night we wanted a movie called Baby Mama, which stars Amy Poehler and Tina Fey. I haven’t watched Saturday Night Live in years, so I have never seen Poehler and Fey. I thought Poehler was much better, much more funny than Fey. It was a cute movie with some funny lines. The basic plot is that a yuppie career woman can’t have a baby and decides to pay a surrogate to have a baby for her. Poehler plays the trashy surrogate. One thing that really bothered me was that when Fey’s character found out she couldn’t get pregnant, she dismissed the idea of adoption saying “That can take up to 5 years!” Uh, hello?! I don’t know where that came from. It was never explained. Realistically, adoption usually takes a year or two, whether you go foreign or domestic, but 5 years is just inaccurate. If you’re willing to take a child of any race, you can sometimes do a domestic adoption in 6 months. I just hate to see adoption treated so negatively. Then again, I know it’s a comedy and not supposed to be realistic…

One of the main characters was played by an actor named Dax Shepard. I had never heard of the guy. However, my cousin Michael and his wife just had a baby and named him Dax. (Baby Dax is sooooo cute! We had such fun looking at photos of him and buying him cute outfits last weekend.)  Michael's Mom is my first cousin. It blows my mind that I have first cousins becoming grandparents!

Steve Martin plays Fey’s new age crazy boss, with a long grey ponytail and a “Whole Foods is nirvana” attitude.  He stole all his scenes. He’s always been one of my favorite actors. [He also looks strangely like George Washington in some scenes...]

 

Fighting a Cold

My flippant comment yesterday about lacking sleep has come back to bite me. I now have a drippy, nasty cold. I don’t feel well. Whenever I go too long on a sleep deficit, I get sick. I’ve been using the fizzy Airborne stuff and it seems to help. It doesn’t cure a cold, but it’s got Vitamin C, and in my personal experience, ingesting lots of vitamin C makes the symptoms of a cold less severe.

The children were out of school today. The teachers had a work day. They are out Monday, too.

I was rather harsh with the kids this morning, barking at them a bit, and then it occurred to me they didn’t know I don’t feel great. I told them I was sorry for being short with them, but being sick makes me grumpy. Mike and I then got in the car and headed to Children’s, for his prosthetic appointment. More about that in a minute.

Last night, Michael was big-time grouchy about taking out the garbage. He argued that since he had helped Alesia unload the dishwasher, he should be able to ignore the garbage. I pointed out that we are a family, and in families everyone helps. Mother told him Alesia helped him with his homework the other day for almost 2 hours. He grumbled, but he finally took out the garbage. Bad attitude boy. Big time.

This morning he was loitering in my room as I was trying to get ready to go, and I told him he needed to make his bed and put away his clean clothes. More attitude. He didn’t move. I finally said “Michael, since you had such a bad attitude last night about taking out the garbage, which is your regular job, you have no Nintendo privileges today. None. And if you don’t straighten up and cooperate with me and Granny today, you may lose privileges for the rest of the weekend!” That got him moving.

Michael has a new hand for his prosthetic. The fingers are immobile, and cupped. So he can serve a tennis ball the regular way. He can also use the other hand. The therapist today showed him how to switch out the hands. He also got a new “glove” – the part of the hand that looks like skin.

Around 2, Alesia called me at work and asked if she could watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer in my room. She had been playing tennis with Michael for 2 hours. I had told him to practice with the new hand, but that was impressive. So I let her watch it. Granny needed a nap.

Mother is on her second round of antibiotics for her leg. It’s better, but far from healed. I put cream on it twice a day. She has an appointment to see a vascular specialist next week. I hope he can help the situation.

Michael did his entire tennis practice tonight with his new sports hand. He said he could serve the ball like everyone else. I so hope he gets a shot at more matches, now. He’s getting better all the time.

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Michael has several “sketchbooks” – really spiral bound books. I need to get him a real sketchbook. He loves to draw. When he can’t sleep I let him stay up a bit and draw, on weekends and holidays. Tonight he was looking through a book and he pointed proudly to a creature with some sort of plumage emerging from its head. I didn’t have on my glasses.

 

“You know who that is?” he asked me.

 

“Um, the little thing from Ice Age that chases the nut?” I guessed.

 

“No, Mom! It’s the guy with the poofy hair!”

 

I wracked my brain. Poofy hair guy. I was drawing a blank.

 

Michael, exasperated: “You know, Elvis! The poofy haired guy!”

 

“Ahhh…. Well, yes, his hair was sort of poofy, but not really like that…”

 

“I want to be like Elvis!” Michael declared.

 

“No, nooooooooooo… Elvis died on the potty. Let’s not go there,” I said, giving him a kiss.

 

“Mo-om!” was the indignant reply.