The Crab Chronicles

Hitting is Not OK

The other day we were eating and Mother asked Alesia how she liked the DVD we watched called True Women. Alesia thought a moment, then said she liked how the men in the story were so caring and sensitive to their wives, and didn’t hit them. I must have looked startled or even horrified because Alesia reads my face and when I tried to get her to clarify what she meant, she got nervous and wouldn’t say more. Sometimes she lets slip little remarks like that and I am reminded that her views are so naïve, and also so off kilter because of her early life.

I think Alesia’s feeling is that a lot of men hit their wives, and that violence is common in male-female relationships. I imagine that in her first 6 years with her birthmom, she probably saw the birthmom hit, possibly even beaten. There were a lot of different men in and out of her birthmom’s life, and they were not all nice men. There was a lot of alcohol abuse. So her first view as a small child was that warped one. One has to deduce, then, that she thinks that’s the way it is everywhere.

Mother told me from the time I was an adolescent, “You never, ever, let a man get away with hitting you – you leave. If they hit you one time, they will do it again, so just get away from them.” Mother repeated this to Alesia. She was almost shaking, she was so vehement in what she said. I kept quiet. Alesia listened intently. I remember the first time I heard it, and how powerful it was to me. Mother went on to say to both kids, it’s never OK for anyone to hit you. Never.

I read recently that children who are physically abused always blame themselves for the violence. They always think it was their fault, that they caused it. I remember that being expressed so powerfully at the end of the movie Good Will Hunting. Both my kids were abused. Michael has talked about his mother hitting him, and some of her boyfriends hit him. His medical record has notes about hematomas on his face due to being hit, when he was less than 5 years old. Alesia’s birthmom spanked her and the bigger girls at the orphanage beat her. The important question that always bothers me is, how do I convince them that the violence they encountered was not their fault? It’s easy to say that, but far more difficult to convince someone that they never deserved to be hit.

I started doing some research, and came across this article, which I found really interesting. The passage I found most disturbing was this, about abuse from a parent or caregiver and how it feels to the child:

If my caregiver loves me, and I love my caregiver, but my caregiver is hitting, punching, or throwing me, it must mean that there is something that I am doing wrong, or, there is something terribly wrong with me at a very basic level. I am bad. In addition, a kind of guilt feeling arises surrounding the child’s inability to protect themselves from the abuse. Out of these emotions, an intense feeling of being different from other children and the need to hide the facts surrounding the negative emotions begins to flow.

I think my kids feel deeply that they are different, possibly even “bad,” at least part of the time. No matter how many times I tell them differently (or Granny, or the therapist) they do not think they are the same as, or as good as, other kids. Alesia is more transparent in her negative feelings, but Michael has them, too. The biggest evidence I see of it is their deep insecurity. They do not want to share Mom, with each other or anyone else. They crave the routine and familiar. They fear change. They have a very hard time making friends. Obviously, most kids feel that way to some extent, but my kids feel it more intensely because of the nightmares they’ve already endured.

We were headed to the beach a couple of years ago, shortly after we got Michael, and there was a flat tire on the car. Both kids told me later it was the most scary thing that they had ever been through. Now, my brother lived nearby, and he came and changed the tire for us and everything was fine. They had no frame of reference for that, however.

I don’t know exactly what to do to help my kids process and overcome the terrible things they’ve endured. I pray a lot. I read everything I can find. I try to tell them every day how much I love them. I take them to therapy. I warn them to never let anyone hit them. That’s all I know to do.

One day I hope I can say to them about their abusive pasts, “It was not your fault,” and they will believe me.

A Rainy Sunday in May

We’ve had a relaxing day, thank goodness.

 

I woke up with a sinus headache, and it didn’t really go away until just before lunch, so we didn’t try to go to church.

 

The kids and I went to Wolf Camera and got prints made from their cameras. I'm glad they are all ready to take the cameras to the beach. Some of the shots that got printed out were good. There are a lot of shots of Coco. Coco is now the most photographed dog in Atlanta, I would bet.

 

It rained all day long, so Michael’s T-2 tennis match got postponed until Thursday. I was actually relieved.

 

We went to lunch at Marlow’s, a local restaurant that has a good buffet. Mother didn't care for it, but I liked the food. My only quarrell was the expensive drinks - we spent about $12 for 4 drinks, which is ridiculous.

 

The rest of the day was pretty quiet. We did some errands. The rain never let up. Great for plants. Lousy for everything else.

 

While Mother napped this afternoon, I made Mike spend some time alone in his room. He hates being alone. I told him he has to get comfortable with that, or it’s really going to cause problems. I know it’s because his birthmom left him alone so much when he was small. So he has to stay in his room sometimes while Granny naps and I am upstairs, but he has plenty of toys and books in there. He was only alone about 45 minutes.

 

We made some photos and they are below. The guy at Wolf Camera fixed my camera. Yay!

This is Mike in front of the bathroom door where I measure him. He is pointing to the first measurement I made, 2 years ago when he came here. Look at the difference!

This was made in front of my main garden. I wanted to photograph the melon patch and the new raised garden, but it was too rainy.

I don't know what they were doing here, but it's funny.

 

 

 

 

Nothing More Than Feelings...

It has been a busy day. I know I say that every Saturday. I know I often end up just reciting facts on these weekend blog posts. I want to try something a bit different tonight.

 

When I started writing Adopting Alesia, my journal of her adoption, I sent out various copies of the manuscript when it was a work in progress and I got back a lot of feedback, some of it useful and some not. One of the best things I got was from Joanne, who has been a friend since we were babies and is practically a family member. She said she enjoyed the story but wanted to know more about how it felt, not just what happened. So I did a complete rewrite and tried to include that information every time I could recall it.

 

Today, lots of feeling moments. I am going to focus on those.

 

Mike was an alternate for his team’s city championship ALTA match this morning, so I got him up early and we headed to the courts. As soon as we opened the door, we saw my neighbor, G [trying to be discreet here] and her husband, T, pushing their new baby in a baby carriage. I told Michael to come over and see the baby. We stood and chatted for a moment.

 

The little baby, W, is so sweet and innocent and tiny. I looked at him and felt sadness, at never having a baby, and at the same time, relief. Babies take so much energy and effort, and they are so helpless. I think I would’ve turned into a total witch if I had had a baby. I don’t do well with little sleep. Short on sleep, maybe just 6 hours, no big deal. Up half the night, and I turn into psycho bee-yotch.

 

Alesia and her friend Elena ate breakfast downstairs with Mother. I frankly didn’t want to be around them. Alesia was in a giddy mood, more bossy than usual, and more controlling. At the same time, I had to remind her to be a good hostess to Elena. “Maybe, just maybe, Elena doesn’t want cold pizza, hon,” I said, as I exited the kitchen.

 

Michael spent the morning with his team, and I didn’t go. Heading to Kroger with Mother and Alesia felt like a throwback to pre-Michael days, and made me a bit uncomfortable. At the same time, he needs to be pushed out of the nest a little, to spend time with other boys particularly.

The team went to Chick Filet after the match. I asked Michael what he ate for lunch. His response? "Ice cream." He didn't eat a sandwich. I fussed at him, greatly annoyed. "I wasn't hungry!" was his only response. "OK, but you need to eat protein and no all that sugar," was my response.

 

We did some beach shopping while at the grocery store, and that felt so familiar. We leave next Saturday for a week in Hilton Head, SC, and a small condo on the beach. My family has gone there for many years. Now that my aunt and uncle have passed, Myrtle Beach feels too painful for Mother just now. Hilton Head is familiar. My parents owned a timeshare there for years. Mother is excited to introduce the kids to the island. I am just looking forward to sitting and reading a book, maybe for as much as 20 minutes at a time, uninterrupted! Woo hoo!

 

I felt like laughing at myself as I methodically unloaded the grocery sacks and built a condo survival kit. We will cook in a lot, and save money. So what might be in our survival kit, enquiring minds want to know?! The Thompson cooking basics: garlic salt, onion powder, Lawrey’s seasoning salt, Soy Sauce, olive oil, Classico sauce, Paces chunky salsa, Mother’s Starbucks coffee, my tea, potholders, coffee filters, Little Debbie oatmeal crème pies to eat in the car.

 

I already have an exhaustive list on my computer, and it will be revised countless times before the car is loaded up next Saturday morning.

 

I took the kids to see the movie X-Men, Origins, this afternoon. I thought it was a good film. However, I sat there and had some bizarre thoughts, like, Hugh Jackman has a really small torso, compared to his long legs. Danny Huston’s voice is sounding just like his father’s voice, even though they don’t look alike. The Canadian Rockies are the setting for a lot of the film – I have always wanted to go there. Well, since I saw a program on Banf on A&E some years ago.

 

Mike played another T-2 singles match this afternoon. The kid was playing on a court in his own backyard. He creamed Mike. Mike only won about 4 games. I felt bad for him. He was hitting really well. He just needs to work on control, and strengthening his backhard.

Aside from getting eaten up by mosquitos and no see-ums, and watching Mike lose, I enjoyed being there. The parents were very nice people and I enjoyed chatting with them. That's one really enjoyable aspect of the T-2 schedule, meeting new people and chatting with them. I used to be very shy, as a kid, but now I enjoy encountering new people.

 

Driving out to the home where the match was felt like a trip back in time, and surreal. The family lives in Conyers, which is a tiny place southeast of Atlanta. Lots of rural acreage and big homes, and horses. One minute you see some shack and feel like you’re on Tobacco Road, the next moment a McMansion pops up. The country vistas reminded me of East Tennessee, where I spent a lot of my growing up years.

 

On the way back, we stopped at what appeared to be a little country store, complete with signs advertising live bait and barbeque. We went in and found fishing poles stacked up just beside the door. Then we looked to the right and there was an Indian man behind the counter. It was just so incongruous. I expected a guy in overalls. The Indian man was very nice, but I said to myself, we aren’t in Kansas any more…

We had a different sort of evening. After dinner, I watched a DVD of the Robin Williams interview on Inside the Actor's Studio. The kids watched a TV movie in my room. I remember watching the Williams interview and laughing really hard. Last night, I recalled the first time I watched it. I was a different person then, pre-kids, and while I loved seeing him free associate ideas and funny cultural references, it felt a little sad. I don't think Williams' life has turned out too well - he had to go into rehab for drinking, his wife is divorcing him in California which is a real bear, and he's had heart surgery. Yikes. I have adopted two kids who will probably never think his standup is funny because they don't know all the cultural references in his work. However, he is a brilliant man and so gifted. I hope he life smoothes out. I know I have achieved a level of contentment I never thought possible the first time I saw that interview, around 2001.

Cheesesteaks Castaways and True Women

I get so tired sometimes of trying to figure out easy and tasty things to make for dinner.

When I lived alone, dinner was easy. A can of soup. A grilled cheese. Sometimes a pint of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. Now, I worry about protein and vegetables and salt.

I was standing in line at the Grill down in the cafeteria on my lunch hour, waiting on my grilled cheese sandwich, and I was entertained watching the short order cooks made several Philly cheesesteak sandwiches. It occurred to me that this is something we should make. I bet the kids would like it. It’s just grilled onions, mushrooms, and thinly sliced beef, then you throw on some cheese and put it on a bun. You could grill the onions and mushrooms and throw them in the fridge, and even slice the meat ahead of time, and then just throw everything in a hot skillet when you’re ready to eat. My only question is, where do you get the meat? I wonder if we can buy that thinly sliced beef somewhere or if we’d need to buy a couple of steaks and thin slice them ourselves…? I am picky about beef. I only like lean beef that’s not tough.

We finished watching the movie Cast Away last night, the one where Tom Hanks is alone on a desert island for four years. I was hoping the film would be a learning experience for the kids. It’s pretty heavy stuff, that movie. To me, it’s all about faith, even though there’s nothing religious in it. He has to have faith to get off the island. I told the kids, at the end, God was watching out for him. I’m not sure if they heard me, or really pondered that. I hope so.

As we were brushing teeth last night Michael said, “He had dark hair at first, then his hair turned blonde.”

“Well, the sun bleached his hair out.”

“I think I want blonde hair!” he said.

“When you leave my house, you can have any color hair you want,” I replied.

Truthfully, he will be at the pool or on the tennis court a lot this summer, and I hope it affects his hair. Last summer his normally brown hair picked up these beautiful reddish gold highlights. It actually looked a lot like my hair, which has a lot of red highlights. Good nutrition affects the hair. I think since he has become more healthy you can really see what beautiful hair he has, although his nose will keep him from ever being a pretty boy – which is good. 

[Personally, I see Tom's look as part wild man of Borneo, part Peter Frampton]

Sometimes I read about studies that are done and I think, these people that spend a lot of time and money researching this stuff are just morons. They’re often as silly as “Kids prefer candy to broccoli” – well duh. Here’s one from CNN saying mother’s influence kids’ social skills by how they talk to them. Really??! I never would’ve guessed that.

My personal history would’ve made those researchers’ heads explode. Both my parents were strict when I was growing up, but my father was more strict on social skills. When we were kids, when we went somewhere in the car, like to a family wedding, about 10 minutes before we got there, Dad would turn the radio off. Then we got The Lecture.

“When we go in there, do not bother anyone. Do not touch anything. If someone says hello, answer them and give them a handshake or a hug. Smile. Find a place to sit down, and sit until we come get you.” We were taught the #1 Rule in all social situations attended as children – do NOT bother anyone.

I went to a family reunion a few years ago, and a distant cousin of mine was letting her two boys race around the building, inside, screaming. She didn’t even try to make them behave. The noise was really getting on my nerves. If I’d ever tried that I would’ve been hauled out and my butt beat. I am not condoning spanking, but for heaven’s sake, Control Your Young! Should not be just a quote from a movie [Night At The Museum] – it should be a credo.

If you want to let your kids run around screaming, that’s your business, but they should never be allowed to bother anyone else.

 

 

Our movie tonight was True Women, a 1997 miniseries. I got the whole thing on one 3 hour DVD from Netflix. I wondered if all 3 kids (including Alesia’s friend Elena) would be able to sit through it, but we took only one potty break. It was mesmerizing. It’s a a true story of pioneer women in Texas from 1845-1880, and you get a lot of history, but told very dramatically. Michael clearly enjoyed it. I hope it made an impression on the girls, as it talks about the importance of women being strong and protecting their homes, and how women had to fight to get the vote. Lots of thoughtful messages, too, about the treatment of African Americans and Native Americans, but not in a preachy way. I highly recommend it.

If you are worried about how to get boys to watch a movie called True Women, Angelina Jolie is in it.

Fashion Controversy

I could not sleep last night. Didn’t even want to get in bed. I was being very bad, reading a book. Finally, it was after midnight and I forced myself to try and sleep. Next thing I know, it felt like 5 minutes later, it’s 6 a.m. Aaaargh….

Alesia decided this morning to make me even more crazy than I already was feeling. She came downstairs in the purple plaid shorts I am quickly starting to despise and she had on a cheap, tight blue tee shirt with the words “Wish You Were Here” on it in hot pink letters. She got that shirt at Walgreens for $3 and I HATE it very, very much. So does Mother. However, the therapist says to not tell her what to wear. So we try to ignore it. SO Alesia has on the evil plaid shorts, hated blue tee, and a sweater which is grayish tan. Looks like a cute homeless person.

“Does this shirt go with these shorts?” she demands, striking a pose.

“No. Get a different shirt. You need a solid color,” I say, trying to sound neutral.

She runs upstairs and returns with a yellow tank top, no sweater. It’s not much of an improvement. She asks how I like it.

“Well, it looks OK. A green, white, or purple shirt would look better,” I respond.

“I don’t HAVE a green shirt that matches the stripe! Look!” she hollers, showing me the tiny stripe on the shorts.

“I know you have a white shirt. Just wear that,” I say, trying to simultaneously cook eggs and pour coffee, and see what Michael is doing.

I don’t recall the rest of the conversation, but suffice to say I tried to remain calm, and Alesia got more and more agitated and upset. Finally I told her to ask Mother. Mother got her calmed down, but she acted like I was Satan incarnate because I wasn’t wild about the yellow tank top and purple striped shorts. Mother was concerned about her bra straps showing, but that was not even on my radar as a concern, since all the girls now think it’s cool to show bra straps. In my youth it was considered trashy. I still think it looks trashy.

I sent this to Mother this morning. “My nerves are shot after that incident this morning. She asked my opinion and when I tried to tell her she started yelling at me. I wasn’t being mean. She kept asking and when I answered she yelled louder. I didn’t get much sleep last night so I was already frazzled. I am going to tell her I will no longer give her any opinion on clothes in the morning, not ever. Her clothes are her problem. I can’t deal with it. I came real close to telling her to get out of my sight this morning. It took all my self-control not to lose my temper.

When I went upstairs last night she was in her room with the light off but I don’t think she was asleep. I think she’s staying up late reading or playing her Gameboy, and that’s why she’s in a really foul humor in the mornings. Nothing I can do about it, however.”

We go along for several days and she’s good and everything is fine, then she turns into the Exorcist Girl.

Michael watched all this, and when there was a lull and I was trying to get my food and eat, he said, “Excuse me, I’m not complaining, but why are my eggs runny?”

“I was distracted this morning. Sorry. If you don’t like your eggs you can eat cereal or waffles.”

“You don’t have to get mad! I wasn’t trying to cause trouble!” he snapped. I wanted to grab Alesia and go “LOOK! You’ve made your normally sweet little brother into a snapping turtle just like you! Happy?!”

All this happened before I had any caffeine in my body. It was particularly cruel.

I think they use this torture technique in the CIA, it’s called the Loud Teenage Girl With An Attitude First Thing in the Morning, and it’s worse than waterboarding

Tonight after work I had to run several errands. I told Alesia that if she and Michael got into arguments in the car, I wouldn’t take them again. As boring as it is to run errands with mom, they’d rather do that and be with me than stay home. That’s yet another way adopted kids are different. Time with Mom trumps everything else.

So Alesia was good right up until the last errands, which was to get a pizza at Papa John’s. She got witchy while we were waiting because I told her Elena couldn’t come over immediately after school tomorrow – we needed a little time to clean up. I don’t think telling Elena to wait a couple of hours before coming to spent the night was particularly cruel, but Alesia acted like I was the Wicked Mom of the West. Thereafter, Sarcastic Giggle Girl came out, and made the rest of the evening periodically unpleasant.

 

When we got home, Mother was very upset. Another dear friend of hers, Bud, is in the hospital. He is 92 years old. However, they have been friends for many years, and he has been very good to her since my dad died. He lives in North Carolina with his sister, who is rather slow mentally [don’t know how else to say it], and they will both likely have to move from their cottage into the nursing home soon. Mother feels responsible for the sister so we may have to go up there one day soon.

The saddest thing about Bud is that he never married and had children. We are not related but we are all he has that remotely resembles “family.”

Mother looked at the children tonight when she told them about Bud and said “Dee, the best thing you ever did was adopt your children.” Boy was she ever right. No matter how much they irritate me sometimes, they are my life. I cannot imagine life being worth anything without them.

Mother then added, “And when the time comes, you are going to take care of your mommy, just like she takes care of me?” I watched both their faces. They nodded without hesitation, eyes wide. Now, I didn’t adopt them just to take care of me in my old age, but thank goodness we have a close family. I don’t worry about them sticking me in some faraway nursing home to die alone.

No, I intend to live long enough to be a burden to my kids. Fantasizing about it makes their teen years tolerable. LOL

Before I forget, Ree has the most wonderful sounding pasta recipe over at Pioneer Woman - I really, really want to make this, sometime soon. Lemony pasta with cheese and sour cream. Can you say YUM!!

Tips on Adopting Older Children [plus] Blondes Have More Fun

I am still working on getting my book, Adopting Alesia, published. I did the corrections to the book and sent them back, and I am just waiting for them to be made, and the next steps to be taken. Hopefully it will be out in the next month or so.

In the meantime, I am trying to get some publicity in place. I did an online interview the other day, and one of the questions made me really think. It was something to the effect of, what advice would I give to parents adopting an older child for the first time? I thought I would address it here, as it’s a topic that’s near and dear to my heart. I am toying with the idea of expanding this and making it into a book. I posted my article for parents adopting older kids on this page.

Alesia told me last night she wants blonde highlights. It was very hard not to laugh. “Sweetie, sit out in the sun for a couple of hours after taking a swim and you will be more blonde. You’re always more blonde in the summer.”

“But I want highlights!”

“I’m not paying for you to dye your hair, and it won’t happen as long as you live under my roof,” I snapped.

She has the most gorgeous hair on the planet and she wants to MESS with it??!! It boggles my mind.

I am so ready for a vacation…

These were made a couple of years ago. Look at that hair!

 

Here she is last summer - note how blonde she is??!

Trying to Cut Down

Alesia took particular care in getting her food last night at dinner, I noticed. We always help our plates from the stove because our kitchen table is really small. I asked her what was up.

“I am trying to cut down,” she answered primly.

“She’s on a diet!” Michael said.

“Alesia, are you trying to lose weight?” I asked, somewhat alarmed, as she’s not fat.

“No, I am just trying to cut down. I am trying not to eat every hour,” she answered. I couldn’t laugh, of course.

“Sweetie, your low blood sugar means you need to eat pretty often. You don’t have to eat every hour, but if you eat 3 meals and 2 or 3 small snacks a day, you’ll be fine,” I reassured her.

I have never told her to eat every hour, but she has done it at school. Her school performance has improved a lot since she started eating more.

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I should have probably waited, but I decided to go ahead and plant my new garden. I went to Home Depot at lunch and bought 3 more tomato plants, a flat of marigolds [they discourage insects], and seed for green beans, corn [Silver Queen! The best], and sunflowers. I’m putting in the tomatoes just so there will be something in there that’s up already. I don’t know how long it will take the seeds to germinate. My kids love sunflower seeds. I also bought 2 bags of expensive potting soil. I will plant each seed with its own potting soil hole, and work in the rest of the soil into the dirt, and that should help. This winter I can put compost out there and really enrich the soil.

When Mike saw me walk in the door with the new supplies he made a face and said "NO! NO MORE! Are you crazy??!!"

Well, yes, we've discussed that before, remember?!

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I came home early tonight to go to a meeting at school about girls’ softball, but Alesia said she really didn’t want to do softball. She agreed to take tennis lessons instead. I am pleased about the tennis, but I wish she would do a team sport. Every kid needs to be on a team at some time in their growing up years. I won’t push her beyond her comfort level, though, not now anyway.

MAKING A DIFFERENCE

Every once in a while I see something that really moves me. My friend at work sent me a clipping about a paralegal who took on the case of a man wrongly accused of a crime, and eventually got him exonerated. It’s going to be a Lifetime TV movie in November. It's rare to see something in the news about a paralegal, even more rare to see something about an unusually brave paralegal. This lady is an ordinary person who saw a terrible injustice and took responsibility to help. Wouldn't the world be a better place if we all did that? 

Two Years and Two Days Ago

This past Saturday was a milestone, and I completely forgot about it. On May 9, 2007, Michael came home from Kazakhstan.

My flight from Almaty to Frankfurt had been fine, even though it was an overnight flight. Once in the Frankfurt airport, however, I had to endure a nightmare, since Germany wouldn’t let me take Michael into baggage claim. I had not checked the luggage all the way through to Atlanta because I was having to fly home on Delta buddy passes. After becoming nearly frantic and not knowing what to do about Michael, I was finally told to take him to the Lufthansa office dealing with older or infirmed airline customers, and a lovely woman in there told me she would watch him while I went and made arrangements for the flight home. It took me about an hour and a half to get the bags, get checked in with Delta, and get back to Michael. The Delta folks hadn’t wanted to issue a boarding pass since he wasn’t with me, even though I explained the dilemma. By the time I got to the gate to board the plane, I was exhausted. The Frankfurt airport is huge and confusing. Michael was a trooper. We got to sit in business class, and Michael slept the whole way home. I couldn’t sleep. I can never sleep on planes.

[This was taken on Mike's last day in Petropavlovsk]

When we got to Atlanta, after getting the baggage, I got a cab home. It was the middle of the day on a Wed. and all my friends were working. Mother doesn’t drive interstates so I wasn’t going to ask her to drive to the airport. I was too tired to navigate the train, so the taxi seemed like the best solution. We got a chatty cab driver, unfortunately. Very sweet, wouldn’t hush talking. Michael and I huddled together in the back seat. Michael was looking out the window at everything like he was on another planet. In a way, he was.

Northern Kazakhstan in early May is still pretty cold, and there was mud everywhere. Highs were in the 50’s. Even in Almaty, which is a lot warmer, there was dust everywhere. Buildings are often old and derelict looking. Most folks in Kazakhstan are either Asian or Russian looking. We land in America and Michael sees black people and Hispanic people for the first time. He sees and interstate highway for the first time. He sees skyscrapers when we pass through downtown. Everything in Atlanta is green and lush, and flowers are blooming everywhere.

I was showing a friend at work a photo of Michael made a few days after he got home [see below]. I had set him and Alesia to work in the vegetable garden. Michael is so tiny and white, and looks completely unlike he does now. She remarked that it was amazing what vitamins and good food could do. I thought about that later. All those things aid in a child’s health, but the most important thing is for a child to feel loved. That’s when a child thrives.

We have had some challenges with Michael, but he is a real joy, most of the time. He suffered so terribly as a small child, it wouldn’t be surprising if he was a really messed up kid, but he isn’t, not at all.

Last night he slept in my room, on the floor, on the Aerobed, since Bruce was sleeping in his room. Before he dropped off to sleep, he said “You know, I really did a lot on dinner tonight. I cooked the bisquits, sliced the veggies, and we both did the steaks.” I told him proud I was of him.

Bruce brought Alesia an army tee shirt recently, and she wore it to sleep in last night. This morning, Mike had no shirt to wear. He had gotten his pants and everything else from his room  last night, but forgot a shirt. It was early and we didn’t want to go in Mike’s room and wake up Bruce, so I asked Alesia if Mike could wear the army shirt to school. She argued for a minute, then agreed. When he picked it up a little while later, he said to me excitedly, “Smell the shirt!” I did. It smelled like Alesia’s perfume. I figured he would refuse to wear it. On the contrary – he was delighted to wear it. The smell was pretty subtle. I just thought it was cute he wanted to have her smell close by all day. They are really getting along well, at the moment.

The new raised garden bed has me daydreaming about vegetables all the time now. I am beside myself with anticipation of planting it. Funny how one’s priorities change as one glides into middle age?!

[This was made last fall]

Mama's Day

We have had a nice Mother's Day.

I went to Kroger early this morning and got that out of the way. I had not been shopping alone in years. It was wonderful, and a little scary at the same time. At one point I had to go to the bathroom, and I couldn't just holler "Watch my purse" and take off, as usual. I parked the buggy by the door and scurried in and was out quickly.

We went to lunch at The Blue Ribbon Grill, a great locally-owned establishment. I took Mother to the Barnes & Noble and she picked out an enormous shopping bag full of books, which should last a few days, the way she reads.

Bruce and the kids worked all day on building us a new vegetable garden, on the side of the house where there is lots of sun. I am tickled beyond measure. I have long wanted another raised garden bed there. It's about 3 feet wide and 12 feet long, and filled with peat moss and manure and soil. I cannot wait to plant it. My 6 cucumber plants are now down to 3. I am so irritated. I think something has been eating them, even though I put out repellant. I may have to plant some more in the new garden.

The children gave me beautiful handmade Mother's Day cards, which they obviously had taken great care to make beautiful and special. Alesia did a very sweet card for her Granny, too. Both my kids have benefited so much by having a grandmother in the home, loving and teaching them. It's somewhat like they have two mothers, although I try not to burden Mother too much. She deserves to rest and relax in her senior years.

There is still a lot of weed pulling to be done in the yard, and I am thinking maybe I just need to hire someone to do it. The kids are not really willing. However, if I pay them, maybe they would be more cooperative.

I have found a little time to work on screenplays, but I still have a ways to go.

All in all, a good day.

LATER NOTE

Alesia and Michael cooked dinner, all by themselves. I had suggested that they could either cook, or we could have peanut butter and jelly. I was that tired. They opted to cook. They wouldn’t let Bruce help. They grilled steaks, cooked bisquits [frozen Pillsbury, which are delicious], made mashed potatoes [boxed], and sliced raw tomatoes and cucumbers. I was so very tired, and I know Bruce was really tired.

 

Lesleigh came over and we had a really pleasant meal.

 

Mike said as he was going to sleep, “Tomorrow is Monday. I can’t believe the weekend went by so fast!”

Here are some shots of my family, mothers and children. Enjoy!

Here is a 1999 photo of me and Bruce and Mother.

Me and Alesia, shortly after she came home.

Me and Mother, a few years ago.

Michael, shortly after he came home.

Babies Are Everywhere

Busy day. Saturdays are always busy.

 

I had an appointment with the eye doctor, just for him to check progress on my contacts. They are working fine. I am so amazed at how quickly my eyes have adapted to the bifocals.

 

Michael and I ran errands this morning, then I took Alesia to therapy. We had a good session.

 

I have decided to go ahead and start the process of letting her learn to drive this summer. I need to do some research, because the law is going to be different for her getting her license than it is for a 16 year old, I think?? I told her, she has to study the book, and go to the driving school. It’s almost impossible to get driver’s ed in school, but I’d rather pay someplace like Taggart’s. I think it will be a maturing experience for her. I will probably have a lot more gray hair by this time next year, but so be it.

 

Bruce came in around 2, and he and the kids spent the afternoon together. He bought the lumber to build me another raised garden bed. I am beyond excited. Michael requested that I grow spinach. I’m also thinking maybe green beans, and onions. I want to grow things I know will actually get eaten. No broccoli.

 

I went to a baby shower for one of my across the street neighbors. It was so nice to be around a bunch of grownups for almost 2 hours. I love my kids, but it was a refreshing change. It was fun to see all the cute baby things, too. My neighbor Jenean had made an adorable cake. I hadn’t seen the neighborhood ladies in a while, including my immediate next door neighbor Luana, who is such a sweetie. She came and gave me a hug. She and her husband are great neighbors.

 

The kids and I went to CVS last night and I bought newborn diapers, baby wipes, q-tips, lotion, and a baby toy. I also took two frozen meals the family can eat after the baby cooks and mommy doesn’t feel up to cooking.

 

Our other next door neighbor is also pregnant. It would be scary if I were not menopausal. J

 

Mike didn’t play today, but his tennis team is playing in the city finals next week! Yay! I hope the team wins!

 

It looked like it was going to rain all day, but no such luck. It we don’t get some rain tomorrow I am going to need to water everything.  The kids are supposed to work in the yard with me, as my Mother’s Day present. There’s a lot to do. We shall see…