Exile on Mom Street

The post with no title because everything I tried seemed trite

2010-02-02T07:36:00.001-05:00

This post is because of Andrea. Because she asked me why I haven't been blogging, and I realized that it's because I didn't want to talk about this. But I'm doing it anyway.

When I become aware of my spirit, I know that I'm in trouble.

When my life is moving forward, and my brain is functioning the way it ought, I am very seldom aware of my own human spirit. My life is too full, my experiences too rich for there to be that awareness. But when I start to consciously think of my spirit it is because I am feeling it, constantly, and because it doesn't feel right. It becomes dark and weighty and it no longer properly fits the confines of my body. I start to notice it in the tightness of my shoulders. In the grim set of my mouth. In the nagging headaches and the terrible exhaustion. In the squeeze of my ribcage when I try to get one, just one, deep, filling, cleansing breath into my lungs. And can't.

Then one day I wake up, and I don't want to do anything but cry.

I started on a regimen of antidepressants and therapy after my third miscarriage in 2005. Confronting my infertility was difficult beyond imagining, unless you've been there too. But the drugs helped. The therapist helped. Adopting Grasshopper helped most of all.

In January 2007, I made the decision to give up my dubious chances at a biological child and underwent a hysterectomy. It was a very freeing decision for me, the removal of that uterus I'd come to hate so fiercely, and one that allowed me to feel strong enough to go off the drugs, and (with her blessing) to stop seeing the counselor. I didn't regret it. I still don't.

I made it through my various other hells between then and now, and I handled them on my own. But lately I am discovering that my hands are too full for me to continue doing so.

The adoption of our second child is still moving forward, albeit slowly. There have been more setbacks on that topic than I care to integrate into a post that is ostensibly about my mental health, so I'll save it for another time. Suffice to say that it has been far from easy.

There have been major crises in JR's business, and in his family. One of our very best friends went into an emotional free-fall a few weeks ago and I did all that I could (it wasn't much. Not nearly as much as I'd have liked) to help and support them. The anniversary of B's suicide is approaching. I'm preparing to sue someone for the first time in my life (nothing like a lawsuit to make a girl feel like a real, red-blooded American!) and I have been deeply disappointed by people who had the power to disappoint me. Finally, someone very important to me, and even more important to my husband, has cancer.

This list is by no means comprehensive, nor is it indicative of how many wonderful and positive things I have in my life.

When you are in the grips of depression, the good things are all muffled and muted, like a TV in the apartment next door, by that heavy darkness that seems to spread from the inside out. The things that add weight to the darkness? Those you perceive in stark relief.

I have an appointment on Wednesday to see my doctor about a prescription, and hopefully a referral. I'm exercising again and taking vitamin D. I'm doing one of the things that I hate most in the world and asking for help (if you know me IRL, you know how true this is) before I reach the point of letting the dishes and the cat hair and the laundry pile up and my hair go unwashed for 6 days at a time because, "who cares, I'm worthless?"

This time I recognize the path that I'm on and although this isn't where I want to be, and I wish that I'd caught it sooner, I know that I can to find my way back to the road I actually want to travel.

More Conversations with Grasshopper (You Can't Make This Stuff Up)

2010-02-01T05:33:00.001-05:00

JR and I were talking at the dinner table the other night while Grasshopper mowed through a cheese quesodilla and grapes. JR glanced over to find that our son had managed to join the Clean Plate Club in under 4 minutes. They had the following conversation:

"Wow! Where did your dinner go, Grasshopper?"

"It in my tummy!"

"Aww, but I wanted to have some quesodilla and grapes! Now what am I going to do?"

"I dunno, but you can't have mine! Mine is in my tummy, and my tummy is attached to me."

*

*
"And not wif tape!"

Hoping that all of your holiday wishes come true.

2009-12-25T10:32:00.002-05:00

Love,

Natasha, JR and Grasshopper

Is it even possible...

2009-12-18T09:26:00.004-05:00

...to have a Perfect Christmas?

I don't think that it is.

I mean it can be perfect for SOME members of the family, but I just don't see how it can be perfect for everyone. I've tried to make it such (bear with me, I realize that the Big Day isn't even here yet, really, I do) but I'm wondering if it's not a lost cause.

Because Grasshopper, well Grasshopper is having the time.of.his.life. The Advent Train has been a huge hit, and he greets me each morning with, "It time to open anover door on a Advent Twain, Mommy!" He has loved every single thing that we've done, from the small holiday crafts to the huge extravaganza of Christmas lights and most recently The Nutcracker Ballet, "There were RATS and dey was huwge! And da Rat King, him got DEAD!"

And I have loved making these memories with him each and every day.

It has put me more deeply in touch with why the Christmas season is so special to me because I see the roots of that growing in my own child. I imagine him making gingerbread waffles with his own kid 30 years from now and my heart feels like it's liable to burst.

But the exhaustion. Oh my word, the exhaustion.

I don't know how to make things perfect for my boy, easy for my over-worked husband and festive for my friends and other family members without burning myself completely out.

I haven't worked out in weeks. I haven't headed downstairs with a clear head in the morning in ages. I barely sleep. I'm waking up in the middle of the night ticking off lists of cards that still need addressing, teacher gifts that still need buying and ingredient lists for cookies that still need baking.

I haven't logged into Blogger or Google Reader in WEEKS. I have no idea what's happening in all of your lives(unless we're Facebook friends, which if we're not, why aren't we?), and it sucks. I WANT to know how you and your families are fairing. I hate feeling so out of my little bloggy loop. I haven't been on Twitter in 2 months and I wonder who will still care about what I might have to say when I find the time to log on again.

I love this season. I'm having a great time making Grasshopper's one and only Christmas as a three-and-a-half-year-old as memorable for him (and for JR and I) as possible.

I just haven't figured out how to do it and still find time for myself. Maybe THAT'S the true Miracle of Christmas.

All Aboard the Advent Train

2009-12-01T13:30:00.008-05:00

My name is Natasha and I am a sucker for family traditions. (Hi, Natasha!)

I didn't grow up with very many set-in-stone traditions, but the ones that we did have are still sacred to me. I am trying to fit as many of those and as many new ones into Grasshopper's childhood as possible because, to me, tradition is the foundation that family is built upon.

To that end, I bought this advent calendar. It's not heirloom quality (heirloom quality is soooo not in the budget, this year) but it's just right for sparking imagination, and that's what I really wanted. That and a way to (hopefully) explain that, "No. Today is not Christmas. No, tomorrow is not Christmas. Why? Because it's not until December 25 and today is only December 1 and if I have to answer this question anymore this morning I will take down the Christmas tree and put it back in the attic until Christmas Eve so help me!" Ahem.

Also, I wanted a way to make the holiday season more about creating memories together than about the accumulation of more stuff (I'm looking at you, Toys-R-Us catalog). So I started brainstorming ideas for seasonal fun that we could have every single day between now and Christmas and printing those on little strips of paper that I tucked inside the calendar. Some were obvious like attending The Monkey Boy's family open house on the 12th, or seeing a special children's performance of The Nutcracker Ballet on the 17th. This morning we planted paperwhites in a pretty silver pot, and tomorrow JR and I will crank up some Brian Setzer Orchestra holiday music and have a dance party with Grasshopper after dinner.

I've scheduled in viewings of The Polar Express and A Charlie Brown Christmas. I'm hoping that we can make a trip to Callaway Gardens for their Fantasy in Lights and at least one Sunday morning will be spent making gingerbread waffles. Grasshopper is going to take some of his own money with him to the Dollar Store to choose a present or two for Daddy, and we're going to wrap them together. He's going to help me choose some items for Toys for Tots donation, and he is also going to go with me to donate foodstuffs to the local food bank.

I hope that the process of opening those little calendar doors each morning will lead to the opening of some much bigger thought-processes about what Christmas really means, and why the season is so magical.

At a minimum, I'll get to rock around the Christmas tree with two of the handsomest boys I know.
**********************************************

What about you? What are you most looking forward to this season? I've still got a few cubbyholes left to fill and I would love to add your ideas to the mix!

Still More Conversations With Grasshopper (You Can't Make This Stuff Up)

2009-11-25T15:25:00.003-05:00

Today, Grasshopper gave me more evidence of his ever-shrinking britches:

"Grasshopper, why don't you help me clean up these toys so that we can vacuum the den? Unci* and Granddaddy will be here tomorrow for Thanksgiving and we want everything to be nice and clean for them."

"Unci and Granddaddy are coming today!"

"No, Grasshopper. TOMORROW. The plan is for Unci and Grandaddy to be here tomorrow."

"Well, dat not my plan. I planning for dem to be here today! Humph!"

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I hope that your family brings you many laughs during the holidays and everyday.

*Unci means grandmother in the Lakota language

More Conversations With Grasshopper (You Can't Make This Stuff Up)

2009-11-24T15:34:00.004-05:00

My child is getting too big for his britches.

And I don't mean in the "I might start making him walk around with a brick on his head if he doesn't stop this infernal GROWING" way. I mean in the "He may not make it to his fourth birthday if he keeps up with that smart mouth" way.

A week or so ago, Grasshopper and I were both sick. We'd had the same cold for about 10 days and mine was segueing nicely into a sinus infection while his infection chose to take up residence in his ears. I had a contractor on my roof and a tissue semi-permanently attached to my nose. I needed to take us to the doctor.

So I got us appointments on the same morning at my primary care doc's office and his pediatrician's office which is right around the corner(can you say miraculous, boys and girls?).

I left the contractor on the roof and hauled us out to spend money on co-pays that were frustratingly unnecessary since I had already (correctly) diagnosed us and we just needed some damn antibiotics, PLEASE! But no, we needed to be exposed to MORE germs in over-crowded waiting rooms to have a nurse practitioner spend no more than 45 seconds examining each of us and then prescribing antibiotics. Woo health care industry!

The visits took a couple of hours and by the time we got home it was lunch time and Grasshopper wanted pizza. I threw a frozen pie in the pre-heated oven, set the timer, turned on a DVD for Grasshopper and tried to focus on what my contractor was telling me about my roof and the cheap a-holes who owned it before me while my sinuses pounded out a distracting rhythm.

The timer beeped and I opened the oven door to a very odd-looking pizza: melted cheese but absolutely no "rise" or browning to the "rising-crust." In fact, the edges were flopping down in between the bars of the rack (I bake our pizzas directly on the rack to get crispier crust). It didn't take too long for me to determine that the bottom heating element on my oven was not actually heating.

My hands were getting shaky from lack of food, and I was waiting until we had something in our stomachs before giving us our first doses of antibiotic. Plus the contractor needed to go to Home Depot (which always takes 2 hours even though it's 3 miles away) because WHY should a job that he told me would take "a couple of hours" actually only take that long?

So I loaded a protesting Grasshopper in the car and headed for the nearest drive-thru, thinking that this would make his day AND get food in our tummies fastest. Mommy win!

Or not.

"But I want pizza Mommy! Why us going to McDonald's?"

"Because the oven is broken sweetheart. I tried to make us a pizza, but the oven isn't working right now."

Grasshopper kicks the back of the passenger seat huffily and catches my eye in the rearview.

"Um, I think that the oven at Mellow Mushroom is not broken." He informs me with oh so much contempt for my problem-solving skills.

Serenity now, serenity now, serenity now, seren...

...and to think that this time last year I was telling myself, "NaBloPoMo in November 2009!"

2009-11-20T14:45:00.018-05:00

So. Things have been a mite busy on Mom Street, which I'm sure you knew thanks to my relative silence.

I've been a really crappy blogger. But! (And it's a very big But indeed. No, not butt. Although that's also very big indeed.)

But! I have been a very good mom/friend/MOMS Club officer/adopting mother. Since I last posted a real, honest-to-goodness post with, like, words and stuff, there has been this:

And this:

And also some of these:

Yes, I have hosted or co-hosted two Halloween parties and a baby shower. I am hosting an intimate Thanksgiving dinner next week.

I have chaired meetings, made holiday crafts for the preschool's Secret Santa shop, solicited donations for the preschool's silent auction and met with an adoption attorney.

I have been fingerprinted. Twice. I have been criminal background-checked. I have been to north and south Florida visiting grandparents both well and unwell. I have been vaccinated against H1N1. I have had a sinus infection. I have had a leaky roof repaired. I've called the FBI 7 times. I have drunk lots and lots of coffee.

Most importantly, I completed our homestudy.

The social worker signed off on it today, pending the receipt of our FBI fingerprints. The fingerprints are supposed to be released on Monday or Tuesday, so by Thanksgiving Day I'll be jumping out of my skin every time the phone rings Is it D? Do we have a baby? Be-still my heart!

Feel for my husband, y'all. It ain't gonna be pretty.

But for now, the merry-go-round that has been my life for the past few weeks (or is it months?) has stopped and I hope to have a little time to find a groove here on Mom Street again before I take my seat on the adoption roller coaster.

In the meantime, I changed my ringtone to Tom Petty's "Runnin' Down a Dream." It seemed like the right thing to do.

Happy Halloween!

2009-10-31T15:20:00.001-04:00

From my very own Wild Thing.

Is Freud in the house?

2009-10-21T07:43:00.013-04:00

So. I haven't blogged about the adoption in a while. Mostly because there wasn't a whole lot of progress to report. (I also forgot basic punctuation and grammar rules, apparently).

JR has been so overwhelmingly busy, and traveling so much for work that it has been virtually impossible to coordinate efforts like going for physicals and drug screens (which we've done), heading out to be fingerprinted and criminal background-checked (which we haven't done), and most importantly to immediate progress, finishing our self-studies. The self-study portion of a homestudy is where you essentially write your autobiography and then answer a bunch of invasive questions about yourself, your relationships and your parenting in the present and future. It is Not Fun. Mine has been done for weeks, but JR has been having a difficult time not only with writing it, but finding the time for it. When something so important hinges on your words, you want to get them just right and that's hard to do late at night after a long day of dealing with vendors and employees and business partners and travel. He finally finished it up over the weekend, and I promptly emailed it to the social worker so that we could arrange our second visit with her.

I'm trying to set up this second visit this week, because next week JR heads out on another trip and my heart just really can't take another multi-week delay. We'll see. I have to keep reminding myself that although she is our only social worker, we are by no means her only clients. Sigh.

I was filling out the requisite financial forms before bed last night (never a good idea) and proceeded to sleep fitfully, even getting up at midnight to see if the social worker had responded to my emails requesting an appointment time this week. She hadn't.

Just before the alarm (also known as my child) started going off this morning, I was trapped in a troubling dream:

JR and I had gotten The Phone Call. A birthmother had chosen us to parent her newborn daughter and we needed to get to her right away. The baby was in an Inuit village on a tiny island off the coast of Alaska and the only way to reach it because of the ice flows was by plane. We were waiting in an airplane terminal (not unlike the one in Wings) and a man who lived on the island and was going to be on our flight walked up and asked why were were traveling there. We told him that we were going to meet our new daughter and then bring her home.

He walked away with tears in his eyes and pulled out his cell phone. He made a call and I heard him say, "It's today. They're taking her today." Somehow I knew that he was talking to the birthfather.

The next thing I knew we were on a tiny plane that could accommodate 6 passengers, and all of the seats were full. No one would meet my eyes. We took off over very rough ice cloaked seas and our tiny aircraft was being buffeted by strong winds and I was trying not to vomit. Fog swirled in and I could no longer see. The turbulence got worse and worse and it felt like we were hurtling towards something horrible when a small voice called, "Daddy? Mommy? Good morning Mommy!"

Yeah. Anyone care to take a guess as to what all of that was about?

More Conversations with Grasshopper (You Can't Make This Stuff Up)

2009-10-16T18:34:00.008-04:00

"Ben took my patient." Grasshopper announced shortly after clambering out the car after school on Friday.

"Ben took your patient?"

Solemn nod.

"I'm not sure that I understand. What is a patient?"

"It when you get mad 'cause you don't wanta wait anymore!"

"Oh! You mean PATIENCE! Ben took your patience?"

"Yes! I wanted to pway wif da blue car an I asked him if it could be my turn next and him said "yes!" but him not GIVE IT TO ME!

Foot stomp. Pouty lip.

"I'm sorry honey. That's tough, huh?"

Stifling laughter.

"Yeah. Him took my patient and I didn't have it no more."

Long-suffering sigh.

Conversaions with Grasshopper: the Deep Thoughts Series

2009-10-16T05:07:00.000-04:00

I had one of the most important conversations of my life yesterday.

On a busy thoroughfare. In the rain. At 5:00 pm.

Because why should anything be unnecessarily easy?

Yesterday Grasshopper and I went over to Good Attorney's house for a play date with her son, Little Z. Good Attorney is 7 months pregnant and looks every minute of it.(I hope she doesn't kill me for saying that. I'm hosting her baby shower in a couple of weeks and that could get awkward.)

On the way home from their house, Grasshopper had some questions about the baby in Good Attorney's tummy.

"Why does her got a baby in her tummy? Did her eat it?"

"No! No, honey. Good Attorney did not eat a baby. Babies grow in their mommy's tummy until they..."

"Come out!"

"That's right, sweetheart, until they are born."

"Like I was in your tummy before I was born."

Oh, God. Oh God, oh God, oh God. I did not expect to be doing this in rush hour traffic, on Ponce de Leon Ave. in the rain!

Please don't let me screw this up. Please.

I'm so not ready for a pop quiz.

I haven't had enough rehearsal time.

Please.

"Well. No. You didn't grow in my tummy Grasshopper."

"Yes I did. Before I got born."

"No, honey. You didn't grow in my tummy."

"I grew in your heart!"

Huh? I know that "grew in my heart, not in my tummy" is a cliched adoption saying, but it's not one that I've ever parroted. I appreciate the sentiment behind it, but JR and I always thought that it would be confusing to children, especially young children. So we've never said it.

"Well, I've loved you since even before you were born, so you've been IN my heart for a long time, but you didn't grow there. You grew in another lady's tummy. She is your Birthmother."

"Why her is my Birthmother? Why I not grow in your tummy?"

Because the universe isn't always fair.

Because this is how we were meant to be.

Because I could never have created anyone as perfect as you.

"Because my tummy doesn't work right for growing babies. So your Birthmother grew you for me, and after you were all ready to come out..."

"I got bornded!"

"Yes. You were born and then your daddy and I adopted you and I became your Forever Mommy, and he became your Forever Daddy. We love you so much."

"Little Z has a Birthmother, too?"

Why the extra-credit question son? Did you really have to do this?

My palms are sweating so much I can hardly turn the wheel.

I can't even see your face!

Was this really necessary?

"Yes. Everyone has a Birthmother. For some people, their Birthmother and their Forever Mother are the same person. Like my mother is my Birthmother, because I grew in her tummy, and also she is my Forever Mommy."

"And my Grandmommy!"

"Yes, exactly!"

*silence*

"Why da winsheild wipers go swish, Mommy?"

I don't know baby. I'm just glad that I can tell you, "I don't know." and let the tears roll right on down my face.

I'm so glad that you're watching the wipers and can't see me.

I've practiced for this day since before I ever laid eyes on you.

Since those first nights after we decided to adopt.

Laying there in the darkness I would imagine this conversation with some faceless child (a girl, by the way) and picture us sitting on the beach, or in her bed at night enjoying snuggles before we tucked her in.

She was always at least 4 and a half.

I never once pictured having this conversation with a 3 year old.

But then, I never pictured you.

You are everything that a Forever Mother (or a Birthmother) could hope for.

I love you, baby boy.

I really hope I didn't screw this up.

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

2009-10-14T08:19:00.003-04:00

Don't you hate those days where you get yourself all dressed to go cut the grass, and the lawnmower won't start and then your cell phone won't pick up a signal?

Yeah. Me too.

Friday FAIL

2009-10-09T13:12:00.008-04:00

Friday is rightly regarded by most people as one of the finest days of the week. It marks the end of the work week and segues us nicely into the weekend. It's arrival is heralded by cries of "Thank God!" and simply "TGIF!"

Today, however, has not lived up to expectations.

I woke up groggier than usual this morning because JR had a nagging cough last night that repeatedly startled me awake just as I was drifting off to sleep. "Cough, cough, cough" followed by precisely the right amount of silence to have me snuggling back under the covers and floating away to dreamland only to be jolted back to full consciousness by "cough, cough, cough." Oh, the joys of marriage.

Upon waking I was comforted by the realization that Friday was finally here and that although I had a lot on my schedule today, I would be doing it sans Grasshopper. He attends preschool on Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings this year, and it's been lovely. Particularly since his school provides the option of Chik-fil-a lunches on Friday meaning that I don't have to figure out what to pack for lunch that day or worry about how I'm going to keep his milk cold since I seem hell-bent on forgetting to put his wee chill-pack back in the freezer after he brings it home.

I allowed myself extra time to read blogs and sip my coffee after my shower since, you know, I didn't have to pack his lunch or anything. And as so often happens I got sucked in. Before I knew what hit me the little clock on the corner of the screen said 8:10 and not only was I not dressed or fed, neither was Grasshopper. I can skip breakfast. A three year old cannot.

So I proceeded to race around screeching at the poor kid to "Hurry, hurry!" and "Find your shoes! We're laaaate!" (always so effective when dealing with toddlers) I threw on clothes, and put some on him. I located the missing sneaker (under the entertainment center) and threw some Cinnamon Puffins cereal into a baggie for him to eat in the car. I even remembered to comb my (wet) hair.

We raced out the door and I was quickly confronted with having the wrong car keys because my car is at the dealership and I'm driving JR's Saab while he tools around in the loaner vehicle. Crap. Crappity crap CRAP! I made Grasshopper sit on the front step while I rushed back into the house praying that JR had actually hung his keys on the set of hooks in the kitchen that we use for key-wrangling. He had. Hallelujah!

We finally got underway about 5 minutes behind schedule. Which isn't too bad because traffic is often lighter on Friday mornings. Oh Friday, how I love thee.

On the drive to school I mentally rehearsed my schedule: Drop Grasshopper off and head to Sam's Club. Then go home to put away refrigerated foodstuffs and organize the paperwork I need to fax to the homestudy agency. Head to Target to return a shirt and buy a gift for a friend's daughter who is turning one. Go to the chiropractor for an adjustment and then drive up to JR's office to have him sign some of the forms and make a copy of his driver's license. Then use his fax machine to send it all to the homestudy agency and maybe squeeze in lunch with him before racing back to school to pick Grasshopper up for his three day weekend (yes, our school thinks Columbus Day is an ACTUAL holiday). Alot to manage, but doable, definitely doable.

Until, that is, I pulled into the school parking lot and saw....no one. That's right. Not one car in the lot, not one light on in the building, nothing. It was Not Good.

"Where my buddies?" Grasshopper asks.

"Um. Well, I think that they must be at home Sweetheart. I don't think you have school today."

"But it a School Day Mommy. It Chik-fil-a Day. I want to go to schoooooool!"

"Well, I don't think that's gonna happen today Grasshopper. I'm sorry."

"Wahhhhhh!"

I turn into a parking space and call JR at work and ask him to pull up the school calendar on the website for me. He does. It runs through September 14. Helpful, very helpful. He asks if I want him to call the school, but I tell him that there's no point, that school should have started by now and that obviously that's not happening today. He listens to me rant. He listens to Grasshopper scream about schoooool. And then he LAUGHS and congratulates himself on working outside the home. The man enjoys living dangerously.

So we headed back home. And I proceeded to check nearly nothing off of my to-do list while Grasshopper dogged my heels asking WHY he didn't have school today. Why Mommy? Why? Why? Why?

And I couldn't tell him.

Do you want to know why I couldn't tell him? Of course you do! This story is riveting!

Because when I switched the September school calendar on the fridge for the October one that was sent home on the 2nd (which was, incidentally, a FRIDAY) I apparently threw away October and stuck September back up. Oh yes, yes I did.

So Friday, I am officially putting you On Notice. Next week you had better live up to expectations or I am going to have to demand a do-over. And margaritas. It's really the least you can do.

Dissonance

2009-10-06T13:37:00.007-04:00

Grasshopper is three. Grasshopper is very, very, VERY three.

Three, as it turns out, is a really challenging age. (All stages of child-development are challenging in different ways, I get it. This happens to be the one I'm wrestling with at the moment.)

This is the first time that I'm really confronting the natural dissonance in parenting that quite frankly sucks. I want to raise a smart, independent, free-thinking person who questions authority wisely, makes goals for himself and sets about achieving them with determination and focus.

I just don't want him to do that until he's in college.

Right now, I want a child who does what I say (the FIRST time) who asks me what would be the correct action to take when faced with a decision and who can be easily distracted from activities such as UNSCREWING THE BABY GATE FROM THE WALL.*

I know that the qualities he is exhibiting now, even the 'tude that my friends Kelly and Angela witnessed this morning (and agreed was impressive for a child his age) will serve him well later in life. I know that I am laying the groundwork for this boy to someday be a man that I imagine I will both like and respect. One who doesn't have to call his mommy every time he needs to make a choice and who doesn't believe everything he's told.

I'm just really not ready for him to be there now.

*Grasshopper's room is downstairs. There is nothing he needs upstairs. Therefore we have (had) a gate at the bottom of the stairs.

Yes, I am kinda proud of him for figuring it out.

No, that doesn't make it any less annoying that he can get into my room now.

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

2009-09-30T11:59:00.007-04:00

Sorry for the poor quality on the first two shots. Grasshopper was so absorbed that he didn't know JR was even there and so JR didn't want to use the flash.

"Are your cars riding the bus to school?"

"Mommy. Dat is NOT a school bus. Dat is a car carrier. Dem is going to the New Car Store."

*Insert sigh and eye roll here*

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

2009-09-23T13:01:00.011-04:00

In all of the hubbub of the start of school, meeting television and book characters and floods of near-Biblical proportions, I forgot to mention that Grasshopper has crossed another "first" off of his life-list: First Trip to the Dentist.

He did great. He was nervous at first, but the staff did a fabulous job of putting him at ease and by the time he got ready for x-rays, he was having an adventure. Since it's a pediatric practice, they know what they're doing with little ones. Also, the dentist provided a card for the front of the refrigerator with his home phone number on it in case we ever have an after-hours dental emergency. How amazing is that?

I can report that there were no cavities, and my son prefers the Banana Split fluoride foam to the Strawberry Shortcake variety. Oh, and a new Lightning McQueen toothbrush makes even sitting still for x-rays worthwhile.

This is totally not even an *almost* Wordless Wednesday post. Oh well.

Anyone have a spare ark?

2009-09-21T10:08:00.028-04:00

Warning: photo-heavy post ahead

We have been having a record-breaking monsoon season in Atlanta this month.I have had a hard time finding accurate information on the web as to how much rain we've gotten over the month [edited: over 15 inches this week according to a new weather.com update], but I do know for sure that on Saturday between Midnight and 1:00 pm a measuring station recorded over 5 inches of rainfall. And it's been raining non-stop for days and days people.

We see heavy rain and flooding from time to time when a hurricane or tropical storm moves through, but this is different. This is sustained rainfall for no apparent "reason" and with no end in sight.

I have lived in Atlanta for over 14 years. I have lived in my current house for over 6 years. I have never seen anything like this.

As I drove through my neighborhood this morning with my camera, I saw a husband and wife wading through crotch-deep water clutching their dog and a few possessions tightly to their chests. I almost asked if I could take their picture, but I did not want to intrude on their obvious grief.

Our house is on high ground. We are lucky. Many are not.

All of these photos were taken in my neighborhood, many from the front steps of my house. As always, you may click to "embiggen".

This shot is from my front porch. People are stupid. Two people have DIED in Atlanta after having their cars overcome by the water..

This is my across the street neighbor, Lady Di, attempting to keep the flood waters out with a sheet of plywood and grim determination. It wasn't enough.

The end of my driveway. The water was over the top of my galoshes.

My mailbox and WAKE from a passing vehicle.

The bike/nature path that we frequently utilize. The bridge is typically about 6-7 feet above a creek bed that is more often than not DRY.

My neighbors.

Oh. My poor neighbors.

Now I just have to figure out what I can do to help.

3 Going On 13

2009-09-17T06:58:00.000-04:00

These are verbatim (well, best as I can remember) conversations that I have had with Grasshopper in the past week.

Driving home from preschool on Friday

Me: "How was school today Buddy? Did you have lots of fun? What did you do today?"

Grasshopper: "I don't wanna tell you."

Crosses arms over his chest.

Me: "Okaaaay. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

We drive in silence for a couple of miles.

Me: "Did you have Spanish today?"

Grasshopper: "No."

Me: "Huh. I read on your sheet that you had Spanish today."

Silence.

Me: "Well, what did you have for snack?"

Grasshopper: "I don't wemember."

Me: "Did you play on the playground?"

Grasshopper: "I don't wemember."

Me: "Who did you sit next to at lunch?"

Grasshopper: Silence.

Me: "Who did you sit next to at lunch Sweetheart?"

Grasshopper: "You JUST asked me that, Mommy. I don't wemember!"

Sticks out his bottom lip and glares at me in the rear view mirror.

Me: "Why are you being rude?"

Grasshopper: "Because."

Me: "Because why?"

Grasshopper: "Because I don't hafta tell you!"

***********************************************

Driving to preschool on Monday morning

Me: "Are you excited to go to school today Bud?"

Grasshopper: "Yes. I want the teacher to walk me in. You stay in the car."

***********************************************

What's next? Dropping him off around the corner so that his friends won't see me? Being told that I can't volunteer for the PRESCHOOL Halloween party because I'm so embarrassing? Buying his jeans too big so that his Sesame Street undies can hang out of the top?

September 11th, 2009

2009-09-11T10:32:00.005-04:00

This morning, as I drove Grasshopper to his second day of preschool for the year, I listened to NPR with one ear, and my three year old's prattling with the other.

NPR was talking about the September 11th attacks. The three year old was talking about play-doh.

I was listening more closely to the three year old than the radio when I suddenly heard a voice I wasn't familiar with reaching through my speakers. A voice that drew me in. A voice that touched a place, deep inside of me, that I don't often allow myself to recognize. A place that didn't exist until I became a mother.

I urge you to listen to this clip, it's only a few minutes long, and so, so worth your time.

As I sat in my car at a red light and wept, I watched my beautiful, fearless little boy in the rear view mirror and wondered what it would take to allow me to sleep at night if I ever lost him.

And when I dropped him off at school, I made sure that the last thing I said to him was, "I love you."

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

2009-09-09T15:10:00.005-04:00

Something about the first day of school made me want to break out the old-fashioned photo effects. So I did.

Skippyjon Grasshopper

2009-09-08T08:27:00.014-04:00

Do your kids (and, lets be honest, YOU) love Skippyjon Jones?

Ours is definitely a Skippyjon-adoring family. That tiny tornado of trouble is a character that every person we know (regardless of age) loves to read about. And this weekend, we got to meet Skippyjon Jones and his "Mama" author and illustrator of the Skippyjon series, Judy Schachner.

We are lucky enough to live in a terrific town that hosts an annual Book Festival and this year, Judy Schachner came to speak. She also hosted a charity brunch for her smallest fans at a local Mexican joint. I was the FIFTH person to purchase tickets to this brunch as I knew it would sell-out fast and I was not going to miss this incredible opportunity for Grasshopper to meet one of his favorite book characters, the ONLY author he knows by name, and get a copy of the newest Skippyjon Jones book, Lost in Spice before it was released.

Judy Schachner was so very, very gracious and charming and she spent a long time at our table chatting with Grasshopper and drawing a wonderful illustration in his copy of the new book. I took one look at it and told JR, "Go buy another copy because Grasshopper is NOT playing with this one. Ever." And he did.

Grasshopper was really in awe of having the author sitting RIGHT THERE with him. Most of the Skippyjon books come with a CD of Ms Schachner reading her book and that is our favorite way to hear the stories, so he knows her voice quite well. When he brings me a stack of Skippyjon books (usually with Skippyjon Jones and the Big Bones on the top) I always give him the option of having me read them or having Judy Schachner read them, and he always chooses "Mrs Judy read it!" I'm not insulted in the least because she does such an amazing job.

For those that don't know, Skippyjon Jones is a Siamese kitten who, because "my ears are too big for my head, and my head is too big for my bed!" thinks he is actually a Chihuahua. There was a person at the brunch dressed as Skippyjon, and he was HUGE! I was a little concerned that Grasshopper might be scared, but he just said, "Mommy, his ears are too big for his head!"

We had an amazing time, and I have to tell you, I'm not being compensated in any way for this post. I bought our ticket, I made my husband take the pictures, and I even paid for a second copy of Skippyjon Jones Lost in Spice which is a SERIOUSLY adorable Skippyjon story taking place in outer space. I am just a big fan of this author/illustrator, her character, and living in a community that makes events like this possible.

If Skippyjon isn't already on your list of favorites, ask Santa to bring you some for Christmas. You will NOT be disappointed.*

*I don't recommend library copies because they seldom have the CDs intact, and they are wonderful.

Not A Good Day

2009-09-03T13:32:00.012-04:00

Today is Not A Good Day.

I woke up with an emotional hangover as result of being slapped yesterday, and from going back and reading the posts I wrote immediately following B's death when I searched them out to link to.

I suppose that I should have reiterated in that post that JR and B had been estranged for a couple of years preceding his death, and I'm guessing that's why Maggie chose to "punish" me by excluding my name from the list of mourners. Sad.

Then, after JR left for work, and I was struggling to shake the cobwebs from my head and move on about my day, there was a terrific crash from the backyard. I went outside and this is what I saw:

I sat in the wet grass and cried.

There were chairs. There were chairs RIGHT THERE, but it didn't even occur to me to go and sit in one of them. I stood in my backyard in the place where I screeched to a shocked halt, laughing like an absolute lunatic until I sat down and I cried.

Not about the umbrella, or not JUST about the umbrella. About the umbrella, about B, about how long it is taking us to make any progress on the adoption, about the bill I got in the mail yesterday from a county that thinks that $428 is a reasonable amount to charge for a tag on a Nissan Altima, about our pediatrician's office changing their policy regarding immunization forms without actually, you know, NOTIFYING anyone, about how my parents are coming to stay with us tomorrow, and my in-laws are coming on Saturday so that we can all have brunch under THAT umbrella, at THAT table because the backyard is the only room in my house that can accommodate 7 people and about how Grasshopper is peeing in his pants again, now a week before school (for which he must be potty-trained) starts, and...yeah. About nothing and everything and just how utterly overwhelmed I feel.

Today is Not A Good Day.

Slapped

2009-09-02T14:50:00.014-04:00

Yesterday when I checked the mail, I was excited to find the Alumni newsletter from the college I attended and later worked for. It only comes out twice a year, and contained therein are little snippets of information about people whom I might once have known well, or only known by name.

"Ansley Sutter married her middle school sweetheart in Florida and now resides in New Hampshire where she teaches 12th grade English."

"Alexis Greenwald gave birth to her second son, Samuel, on April 11 and she and her husband John and big brother Paul are enjoying the new addition to their family."

I'm sure that you all know the drill. It's a small college, so when it comes to information about the classes clustered around my own, and those that I helped to recruit, I know almost everyone. The news is generally happy, although it still comes as a shock when an alum that I recruited out of high school has finished law school, gotten married and had a baby. That right there means I am OLD.

But today, contained within those school-color saturated pages, was a slap in the face.

Long-time readers will surely remember the suicide of my husband's nephew, my peer, B. We were close, for a time, and there is a story that I have neglected to share on this blog until now:

When JR and I went on our second, or possibly third, date it happened to be Halloween. We were just going out for Thai food and possibly a movie, but on the way to dinner he explained to me that his nephew B always hosted a Halloween party at his place and that he needed to put in an appearance. "We don't have to stay long, I know that you won't know anyone there," he told me, "But my nephew is one of my best friends and I need to at least stop in."

Lucky for him I'm a social enough gal and I said, "Sure. No problem."

Imagine our surprise when after B opened his door (dressed in a purple pimp-suit complete with a feathered hat) and ushered us inside, a Catholic school girl squealed, "Natasha?" and flew across the room at me.

It was a friend of mine from college, Maggie*, who turned out to be B's long-time roommate. Needless to say we spent quite a bit more than a few minutes at the party, and I had a lot of fun discovering the ways in which my life and JR's had overlapped without our being aware of it.

We went on to spend a good bit of time with both B and Maggie during our courtship, and they were thrilled when JR and I got engaged, and they both attended our wedding reception (we eloped, so no ceremony).

Yesterday afternoon, as I scanned the Alumni newsletter Maggie's name jumped out at me, and my heart stopped when I read the following, "Maggie is sad to announce the death of her long-time roommate B in February. He was a friend to many [alumni of our school] and is sorely missed. His memorial was attended by: Mary Smith, Susan Perkins, Patricia Neals, Joy Lowe, Maggie Negel."

I was not listed.

I was shocked. I was heartbroken.

And now I'm mad.

This was not a simple oversight. It's not a matter of her somehow missing the fact that I was there. I was. I was front and center with THE FAMILY. I was in the effing receiving line at the door. She gave me a g-damn tissue when I had soaked all of my own.

Yet I WAS NOT LISTED.

I'm not sure what she was trying to prove, by excluding my name, by excluding the fact that I was B's AUNT by marriage. But I do know that I am terribly hurt by it.

I also know that B deserves better than that. He deserves to have everyone know the names of every single person who loved him and misses him every single day.

I was shocked. I was heartbroken.

And now I'm mad.

*names have, of course, been changed to protect the guilty.

This is pretty much how it is on Mom Street

2009-09-02T11:20:00.005-04:00

Susan Wagner posted this on her delightful blog Friday Playdate and I just had to bring it over here to share with you all. This is my life until next Wednesday at 9:00 am. Which is ONE WEEK. One extra-long week from today.

I'm not sure I'm going to make it...

Edited to add: I realized after posting it that this is my 150th post. That's gotta be symbolic, right?

Save Me From Boy Humor

2009-08-28T14:26:00.007-04:00

I was in the kitchen this morning, prepping shrimp for tonight's dinner by getting the peeling and de-veining (one of my least-favorite kitchen tasks, by the way) over with.

Grasshopper was in the den being babysat by Handy Manny (have you ever noticed that the character on Handy Manny with the bad comb-over is named Mr. Lopart? or rather LOW PART!?! I only realized this after watching approximately 57,000 episodes. I am slow. And easily entertained, apparently.) and suddenly announced that he needed to go potty.

"Mommy I need to go potty!"

"Well, then go, Sweetie! You don't need me for that."

"Yes, I do!"

"No Grasshopper. You don't. You're a big boy, and you can go potty on your own. I'm busy right now."

He runs for the bathroom and a few seconds later is calling for me again. I contemplate feigning deafness, but ultimately decide that perhaps he has had some aiming issues or maybe needs a body part wiped (ahem) and give up on the shrimp so that I can investigate.

"Hang on, I'll be right there!"

"Hurry up Mommy!"

I head for the bathroom while he continues to urge me to hurry.

"Okay, dude. I'm here, what do you need?"

"You almost missed it Mommy!"

"Missed WHAT Grasshopper? I'm trying the get things done this morning and..."

"The Pee Party!"

"The what?"

"The Pee Party!"

"Grasshopper, what in the world is a pee party?"

"It like a Tea Party!"

"A PEE PARTY IS LIKE A TEA PARTY?????????"

"Yes! But different. It's funnier than a Tea Party!"

"...."

"Mommy? Where you going Mommy? I still having a Pee Party. Mommmmmmyyyy!"

Riding the Dinosaur Train

2009-08-24T13:45:00.013-04:00

This weekend, Grasshopper, JR and I got to ride the Dinosaur Train at the Georgia Public Broadcasting studios in Midtown Atlanta.

We were invited because of this little blog, which is cooler than I can say. I've been pitched all sorts of things for review or mention here, and I've turned them all down (or merely ignored them) because that's not what I'm here for. I'm here to record snippets of my life and my family that would otherwise be forgotten, and to hopefully connect with other people experiencing similar things. Not to try out laundry detergent and then try to get y'all to buy it. [I have no problem with bloggers who do that (provided they Blog with Integrity, with or without the button) but it's just not why I'm in the blogosphere.]

But this opportunity, this was one that I could not pass up. You see PBS kids is going to be debuting a brand new television series for preschoolers on September 7 called Jim Henson's Dinosaur Train, and we were invited to be among the first people to watch the first 2 episodes, and meet Buddy the dinosaur, the star of the series.

As anyone who has read this blog for any length of time knows, Grasshopper is a HUGE fan of dinosaurs, and I knew that this would be right up his alley. Combine that with my mommy-guilt over canceling our trip to Disney World (not that he even knew we were going) so that we can capitalize on our awesome adoption opportunity, and I jumped all over this invitation.

We had a fantastic time previewing the shows, ESPECIALLY once we found out that Buddy is adopted. He even said to another dinosaur child inquiring about his origins, "My Mom and Dad adopted me."

I'm not sure that Grasshopper caught that part of the story during his first viewing as he was so enthralled with everything going on and the knowledge that he would soon Meet.A.Dinosaur! But I know it will register once the series is on each morning, and JR and I are thrilled to have a young hero for our son who is proud of his status as a Chosen Child.

The characters are great, the music is infectious, and it had my three year old telling me, "Mommy, I have a hypothesis!" after just two episodes. I cannot wait to set my DVR for this awesome program since it will air primarily while Grasshopper is at school. There were kids in the audience from age 1 to about 6 and they all seemed to really enjoy the show and be learning a lot about dinosaurs, about science and about what it means to be part of a family.

Here are some of our photos from our fabulous day:

Watching the first episode

Tackling Buddy

Showing Buddy his favorite "Seratops"

Checking out Buddy's teeth, "Them not scary!"

Riding the "train" with Daddy

Trying to sit still for face painting

Thank you to GPB for all of the great children's programming and for inviting us to this fabulous event. We can't wait to ride the Dinosaur Train again.

Marketing FAIL

2009-08-20T08:59:00.005-04:00

I dragged myself and Grasshopper to the grocery store yesterday, in spite of feeling like I might just be at death's door (okay, not really, but colds still SUCK) and as I wandered the produce department, Grasshopper suddenly yelped, "Dinosaur, Mommy! DINOSAUR!!!!!"

I looked around, expecting to see a dinosaur balloon or perhaps another child wearing a dino t-shirt, but saw nothing. Then, I realized that he was pointing at a display of fruit. On closer inspection, they were Dinosaur Egg pluots and each one had a teensy tiny sticker with a green brontosaurus on it.

"These are called Dinosaur Egg Pluots, buddy. Would you like some?"

"Yes! Them like apples."

"Well, they're red and they are fruit, but they're more like plums than apples. You like plums!"

"Yes! I want dem."

"Okay, we'll get a couple."

I begin sorting through the pile of fruit to find some that are ripe, but not too ripe, and with no obvious bruises.

Grasshopper is prattling on, and I'm listening with half an ear, until...

"Mommy! Give dem to me! I need to sit on dem!"

"Grasshopper, why in the world are you going to sit on our fruit?"

"So dey will hatch Mommy! I gonna hatch my dinosaur eggs!"

I am trying so very hard not to laugh in his earnest little face.

"Oh, well, see these just LOOK like dinosaur eggs, Sweetheart. They don't have baby dinosaurs in them, just fruit."

Grasshopper's bottom lip sticks out farther than I think I've ever seen and he announces, "Dat. Not. FAIR."

And he's absolutely right.

My life according to Tom Petty

2009-08-19T06:21:00.000-04:00

Maggie over at Sitting On the Mood Swing at the Playground did this meme yesterday using her all-time musical hero Bruce Springsteen.

For me, Tom Petty is the master and I had no problem finding song names in his arsenal to answer these questions. It was a lot of fun, and I hope some of you choose to participate too!

Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions.

Pick your Artist: Tom Petty

Are you a man or a woman: American Girl

Describe yourself: Too Good to be True

How do you feel: Alright for Now

Describe where you currently live: Southern Accents

If you could go anywhere, where would you go? Into the Great Wide Open

Your favorite form of transportation: Free Fallin'

Your best friend? is Learning to Fly

You and your best friends are: Sometimes the Losers (which is okay because we have the most fun!)

What's the weather like: Something in the Air (specifically, rain.)

Favorite time of day: Waiting for the Night

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called: A Face in the Crowd

What is life to you? Life and Love is a Long Road

Your fear: Wake Up Time

What is the best advice you have to give: Time to Move On

Thought for the Day: You Don't Know How it Feels

How I would like to die: A Woman in Love

My soul's present condition: A Higher Place

My motto: I Won't Back Down

Viral

2009-08-18T08:51:00.006-04:00

I had every intention of blogging while JR was away last week. In fact, I was off to a really good start when all of a sudden, disaster struck: our desktop came down with a virus. A bad one.

I could only log on for about 5 minutes at a time before the whole computer would freeze and have to be unplugged from the wall, and then plugged back in and booted up, and unplugged and then plugged back in, and booted up, at LEAST 3 times before I could log on again. And so I would, in a panicky frenzy, zoom through the inboxes of all of my email accounts looking for anything that seemed IMPORTANT and then trying to read those before the whole thing froze up on me again.

I couldn't run any of our anti-malware, and I was a bit too exhausted from JR being gone to attempt a more serious war against the virus. Eventually, JR made it home with the laptop on Saturday night, and we used it to help us repair the desktop model over the past two days.

I am just beginning to catch up on all of the blogs I missed in the past 6 days, and it feels like I must have been offline for 6 WEEKS. Stop being so produtive y'all. Seriously.

And now, a new virus has swept in: I woke up this morning with a raging sore throat, runny nose and a hacking cough even though I felt totally fine yesterday. And Grasshopper is coughing his head off in the other room as I type this, so that does.not.bode.well. Also, it's AUGUST, so what the hell, universe?

I feel especially bad as we had a playdate with a Twitter/blog friend Angela and her girls yesterday and almost certainly infected them THE FIRST TIME WE MET. That's going to leave a lasting impression, but not the one I'd hoped for. Oy.

So now it's off to round up some Sudafed for me and some puzzles and play-doh for Grasshopper, and maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to catch up on my reading later. Or, you know, take a nap. Achoo!

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

2009-08-12T14:34:00.009-04:00

I got a mysterious package in the mail today. Whatever could be inside?

Oh my! It's Grasshopper! What a "S'prise Mommy!"

Do you think that caveboys played with boxes made of like, turtle shells and animal hides? Because there just doesn't seem to be a toy better than The Box.

HeadSpace

2009-08-11T08:03:00.007-04:00

I was looking back over the past few weeks on the calendar, and thinking about how neglected my poor little blog has been. And I realized something: how often I post is inversely proportional to how much time my husband can spend at home and AVAILABLE. When JR is gone (as he is, AGAIN this week) or when he is home, but spending large quantities of that time on his phone or laptop, blogging doesn't even cross my mind.

It's not just a lack of time or energy to sit down and write. It's that I don't even THINK about writing. It used to be that, as I moved through my day, I would get little snippets of ideas and think to myself, "That might be fun to explore on the blog." Or Grasshopper would do or say something so hilarious, so sweet, or so infuriatingly naughty that immediately I'd say, "That is soooo getting blogged!"

Now, if I'm really lucky, that little something funny will get "micro-blogged" on Twitter, but usually, I barely even register it. I'm missing out on some good stuff, people, and I don't like it.

Now that rarely laying eyes on my husband has become the "new normal" I need to find a way of adjusting my thoughts out of what I've come to think of as Survival Mode (just get through the next ten minutes, the next hour, the next meal, the next day, the next week) and into a place where there is room in my own head for ME.

I guess I'll let you know how that goes.

Summer is here and the living is....monotonous

2009-08-07T08:06:00.005-04:00

Helloooooo?

*knock, knock, knock*

Is this thing on? Testing, testing, 1,2,3.

Oh, right, hi!

I've been MIA again, haven't I?

I really wish that I had a good excuse for this sort of behavior, but I don't. My life lately just hasn't seemed worth blogging about. I feel as if Grasshopper and I are caught in the movie Groundhog Day and nothing ever changes.

I mean some things do. My 3 year old is suddenly going on 13 what with eye rolling and attitude becoming part of his vocabulary. For example yesterday morning I asked him if he would like a waffle and the response I got was, "I just TOLD Daddy I no want breakfast, I BUSY!" complete with frustrated exhalations and eye rolling, and him turning his back on me to finish completing construction of his new parking lot.

Oh, I guess that's something else new, my child who loves books, who made my Mommy heart swell with pride every time he asked for me to read "just one more" now uses books exclusively for building things. Things for his cars to drive on, drive through and park on, to be specific. Sigh. Do not try to get him to read one with you, or you'll be subjected to the eye rolling again.

I guess summer has just been sucking the life out of me (or at least the creative parts) this year. Summer has long been my least-favorite season, and every year it seems to get worse. Here in Atlanta JR likes to joke that you get "mugged" the minute you step outside, which I initially thought was a reference to the swarms of mosquitoes but as it turns out is his way of making a pun with the term "muggy." Ahem.

In other news, there's a recession on! Have any of y'all heard about this? Yeah.

Well, shortly after we got our amazing news about having an Angel to sponsor our adoption, we got the news that things were Not Good with JR's business. My husband is one of 4 partners in said business, and not the one who handles the financials, so he knew that sales were down, but he didn't really know how far down.

As it turns out, they needed to lay some people off, and take on more work amongst the four of them to compensate. Yeah. So now JR is working at the jobs of like 3 people as well as being an owner. Grasshopper and I don't see nearly as much of him as we would like.

The good news is that these moves have stabilized things, and made the company leaner and meaner and they should be in an excellent position once the tide of the recession turns. Which, can we all just have a moment of silence to focus our collective energy that way?

*breathe in, breathe out, repeat*

Thanks.

So we are still moving forward on the adoption, but s l o w l y. Mostly because JR has no time for writing up his self-study or taking off work to go and get fingerprinted. Hell, he's out of town more often than not, these days.

So Grasshopper and I are trying to fill our days by playing with friends, and creating massive traffic jams complete with convoluted stories of which car hit which car and which one is merely broken down, and which one ran out of gas, and which one has a flat tire, and also scrubbing and resealing the kitchen grout. Oh wait, that last one was just me. Grasshopper declared it, "too much work."

So that's my life, in a nutshell. How have all of you been? How do you survive these long summer days? I'd love to hear your tactics.

More Conversations with Grasshopper (You Can't Make This Stuff Up)

2009-07-24T13:42:00.007-04:00

JR had to go on a long business trip this week, so I decided to throw Grasshopper in the car and drive 5 hours south my parents house and spread the waking-up-at-6:00-in-the-morning love.

The trouble with living in north Georgia, and having family in north Florida, is that you have to travel through central and south Georgia to get there.

With a three year old who has mastered the fine art of staying awake in the car so that he can ask questions (often the same question) approximately every 2.3 seconds without even pausing for breath. Patience, I haz it.

So, south Georgia: not too scenic, but full of an-mals which makes it's lack of attractive scenery forgivable, "Look Mommy, cows! Moooooo Mooooo Mooooo!" "Look Mommy, horses! Neeeeigh Neeeeigh Neieeiiigh!" "Look Mommy goats! Maaaaaa Maaaaaa Maaaaa!" etc, etc, etc.

Yesterday, as we finally approached my parent's city, signs of civilization started springing up and I figured that we were done with barnyard animals until our return trip.

Instead, I got this:

Grasshopper: "Mommy! Mommy! I saw an an-mal!"

Me: "Did you? What kind of animal was it? I didn't see one..."

Grasshopper: "It was a reindeer! A wittle one!"

Me: "You saw a little REINDEER?!?!"

Grasshopper: "Yes! It was a baby. And it was talkin!"

Me: "What was the baby reindeer saying?"

Swiveling around to look for signs that my child has somehow come down with a raging fever causing hallucinations involving reindeer in Florida.

Grasshopper looking at me like I am the stupidest person he has ever had the misfortune to spend 5 hours in the car with:

"Goo-goo, gah-gah. It a BABY Mommy."

Uncharacteristically Silent

2009-07-20T06:36:00.000-04:00

Those of you who follow me on Twitter probably already heard about this one, but it's been bothering me for a few days, so I thought I'd open it to the group.

At Grasshopper's swim lesson last week, I was chatting with the grandmother of another 3 year old boy in the class, who happens to be a fifth grade teacher. During the course of the conversation, I mentioned that we were working towards another adoption. Our conversation then went something like this:

Her: "Oh! Grasshopper is adopted?"

Me: "Yes."

Her: "How old was he when you got him?"

Me: "20 days old."

Her:"Wow! That's almost like you're his mother!"

Me: "??????????"

I said NOTHING. I just sat there gulping air like a fish while she prattled on about how lucky Grasshopper is to have a terrific and loving family. I was horrified, but had NO IDEA how to respond to such blatant ignorance. She was obviously happy for us, but my GAWD, how can anyone say such a thing?

I have felt guilty for my silence ever since.

This woman teaches children at a really formative point in their lives. I get sick to my stomach thinking about her saying something like that to an adopted child under her tutelage. Someone who, at 11 years old, would take her seriously, and be unable to recognize her ignorance for what it is.

That session of swim lessons is over, and I don't know if I'll ever see this woman again, but it's been weighing on my mind. What should I have said, Dear Internets? What is the correct response to someone who obviously means well, but is so blindsidingly (yes, I think I just invented that word) STUPID?

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

2009-07-15T06:59:00.000-04:00

Grasshopper's first swim lessons.

No, I didn't know that his instructor would be incredibly patient, kind and...charming when I chose the program. Really. Stop looking at me like that!

Besides, the karma at that pool owed me.

Sleepless in Atlanta

2009-07-14T07:57:00.004-04:00

I am discovering that being back in the adoption ring means that I have much less time for things like, well, this blog. And hair appointments. And trips to the library. And laundry, oh god the laundry. Grasshopper informed me this morning, "Mommy I gonna run out of underwears!" So maybe the laundry ought to be addressed today before the pile swallows one of my cats whole.

I'm waking up in the middle of the night, mid-stream through answering questions about how I have coped with loss in my life (answer: not well.) And why I think that we're prepared to parent a child of African-American ancestry. Apparently even when I'm sleeping, I'm stringing words together, trying to form a chain of sufficient length and strength to reach out and bring my baby home.

There are also things that are utterly unbloggable happening in my life because, you know, the good stuff always has to be balanced out with the bad.

I don't know when I'll be able to resurrect my normal blog schedule, but I sincerely hope that all of you will hang in there with me. I have a feeling that this is going to be a pretty wild ride.

Painful Process/ Priceless Result

2009-07-10T13:40:00.013-04:00

I have to start this post by thanking everyone who left your congratulations on my last post. It's a very humbling thing to realize that people across the blogosphere are crying happy tears for you and your family.

A few of you have sent emails asking for more details about how we came to find ourselves in this miraculous position, and how long it is likely to be before we are a family of four. I will do a more thorough FAQ post soon, but today I will introduce you all to the homestudy process, which I expect to take us a couple of months.

This morning two lovely (really, they were great, Grasshopper and I loved them) social workers knocked on our door and were greeted by Grasshopper demanding to know, "Why you no bring my baby today?" (I had told him that they were coming because they were going to help us find his baby. He seems to think that our timeline is a little long.)

They are, I know, going to be reading my blog and I'm having a bit of a hard time with that **waves weakly to A&E**. There is nothing that I have published here (or anywhere else) that I do not stand behind 100%. But this is my sacred space, and I have always written here without a particular audience in mind. It is my diary, and my tagline is quite accurate: this is the intersection of Mommy and me.

It's a strange feeling when your online world and the real world begin to intersect. When people whose job it is to evaluate every part of your life have access to the archives where you have bared your soul. A homestudy is, by it's nature, an incredibly invasive thing. I have done it before, and have no hesitation about doing it again. As I have always maintained Adoption = Painful Process/ Priceless result. The homestudy exists for a very good reason and I remain ELATED to even be in the position of needing one again.

But as my friend Good Attorney said, when someone is picking your life apart and judging you and your family (even when it is with the best interests of an utterly innocent child at heart), when they are the gatekeeper standing between you and what you desperately desire, it's hard not to view them as being on the other team. Not an enemy, not at all, but not necessarily wearing your colors either.

For those of you not familiar with the domestic adoption homestudy requirements, here's most of what we face:

1. Criminal Record check with the FBI and GBI
2. Child Abuse Registry Check
3. Sexual Offender Registry Check
4. Department of Correction Screenings
5. Parolee Database Screenings
6. Documentation from local law enforcement of all 911 calls for all addresses we have lived in GA for the preceding 5 years
7. Verification of medical insurance and copies of medical insurance cards
8. Medical Report Form 36 which requires our doctor to disclose any health problems (from obesity to hepatitis to poor ambulation), and all medications we take, a TB skin test and complete drug screening
9. Child Safety Agreement
10. Financial Statement with copy of mortgage
11. Most current tax return
12. Employer Verification Letter with salary and dates of employment
13. Copy of Drivers License and auto insurance cards for all drivers in the home
14. Birth certificates for all family members
15. Marriage certificate
16. Divorce Decrees from any previous marriages
17. Recent pictures of all family members and a photo of our home
18. Current pet vaccinations
19. References from 1 family member and 2 non-related persons

We must also complete extensive essay questions about our motivation for adopting, and since we are open to the adoption of an African-American child, questions like the following (which, to be fair, comes from the adoption agency not the homestudy agency):

Families vary in economic, regional, racial, cultural and educational backgrounds. Are you aware of any significant differences between African-American and Caucasian lifestyles? Please discuss these in relation to customs, history, struggles and accomplishments between the two groups.

JR and I will be interviewed separately and as a couple. We will be scrutinized from every angle imaginable and when it is all over, when the government is satisfied that we will be good and loving parents, we will find our baby.

I can't wait to begin.

An Adoption Day Miracle

2009-07-07T20:38:00.008-04:00

JR and I have wanted, for as long as there has been a JR and I, to parent two children. When we were engaged, we planned to accommodate my desire to experience pregnancy and child birth, and our mutual desire to adopt a child by doing both. One child born of my body, one child born of our hearts.

It became clear after a time spent in unexplained miscarriage hell that both of our children were going to be born of our hearts, and that was more than okay with us. We just wanted to be parents. Within a few short months, with the addition of Grasshopper to our household, we were.

Then, we went through adoption hell trying to add members of Grasshopper's birthfamily to our family.

After those two "failed adoptions" the money to adopt was gone. We have the means to raise another child, but not the means to bring another child home.

And so we planned. And we worked. And we asked for your help.

And then, although I haven't talked about it here, we gave up. I am crying now typing those words, because I'm ashamed to admit it to all of you who have supported us with your money, your time, and your kind words, but the truth is, we gave up.

I checked out books from the library about Parenting Your Only Child, and My One and Only: A Parent's Guide. My eyes welled up every time I tried to sing "You Are my Sunshine" to Grasshopper (a song I have sung to him since the day we met) because I would stumble over, "My only sunshine."

I went so far as to email a very wise and generous blogger named Rita about her decision to parent just one child in an effort to embrace our family of three. The thing that stuck out for me in her incredible response was when she said that she looked around one day and realized that her whole family was already in place. I PRAYED with everything in me to have that sort of an epiphany, but none came.

Instead, an angel came to us via the internet and answered the larger prayer, the prayer that we had stopped praying. She offered to complete our family.

I have no words for how I felt when she contacted me, on Adoption Day, to say that if we would complete our homestudy, and pay for our travel expenses and legal fees, (our hard work and your generosity are allowing us to do that), then she would finance our adoption of an infant here in the US.

Before the week was out, I had spent over an hour on the phone with a very special adoption agency, who said that they understood the place of fear and loss that we were coming from regarding domestic adoption and assured us that they would honor our request to only be "introduced" to birthmothers who had already given birth to, and signed over, their child. Who assured us that our angel was very, very real and that they had the documents and substantiation of funds in place. That we would never receive a bill from them.

I have been trying to write this post ever since. My tears and my awe have kept getting in the way.

But now I've spent the day filling out forms and the evening organizing my laundry room because a social worker will be here, in my house, on Friday to make sure that we have a safe environment and to begin to determine our fitness as parents. It's real, y'all.

It's really, really real.

We still have a lot of ground to cover, before we're able to dive into the deep end of the adoption pool once more, but I'm standing on that first step. My toes are wet, and I know now that angels are real, and mine won't let me drown.

Do Not Try This At Home

2009-07-02T08:16:00.003-04:00

Y'all.

If you ever find yourself awake at 5:00 in the morning because your back is hurting and you think to yourself, "My child will be awake in about an hour. I should take some Advil now so that it has time to work before I go on duty."

For the love of Pete, PUT YOUR GLASSES ON FIRST!

Otherwise you will take two Tylenol PMs at 5:00 in the morning and three hours later find yourself laying on the floor having cars driven all over you because that is the closest to "playing" you can get.

Ask me how I know this. Go on, ask me.

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

2009-07-01T07:54:00.003-04:00

Happy 60th Birthday Granddaddy! We love you "Big Much!"

Grasshopper is wearing my mother's Minnie Mouse Santa ears. Do my parents know how to party or what?

Adoption Day

2009-06-28T10:25:00.005-04:00

Dear Grasshopper,

You have just reached the age where super heroes fascinate you. You imagine yourself with magical powers, soaring through the air while your cape streams behind you on your way to vanquish the bad guys.

What you don't realize is that you already are a super hero. You have extraordinary powers, little one.

On this day 3 years ago, you made me a mother. On this day three years ago, you made my husband a father. Three years ago today, you and your magic powers transformed us from a couple burdened by infertility and heartache into a FAMILY.

There is no greater power in the world than the power of love, and you have that power in spades.

We hit the jackpot the day we found each other, Darling Boy. I will be forever grateful to you and your super powers for vanquishing our bad guys and making our dreams come true.

Your Mommy always and forever,

Natasha

Make a Smilebox slideshow

More Conversations with Grasshopper (You Can't Make This Stuff Up)

2009-06-25T07:14:00.000-04:00

JR: "Hey buddy, where did all of your fish sticks go?"

Grasshopper: "Dem in my tummy!"

Me: "All of them?"

Grasshopper: "Yep!"

JR: "Is there a party in your tummy?"

Grasshopper: "Yes! A Tummy Party!"

Me: "Well, what about your strawberries? They want to go to the party too!"

Grasshopper: "Whoopsie!"

[Begins cramming strawberry chunks into his mouth. Chews. Goes back for more until they're gone too.]

Grasshopper: "Now da strawberries are at my Tummy Party!"

JR: "I bet they're having fun!"

Grasshopper: "They are going to have cupcakes and a pinata at the Tummy Party!"

Me: "Oh, really?"

[Struggles not to laugh.]

Grasshopper: "And da Monkey Boy* is there!"

Me: "The Monkey Boy is in your tummy?"

Grasshopper: "Yep! I eat him!"

JR: "You ate The Monkey Boy?"

[Grins widely and nods his head enthusiastically while patting his tummy.]

Me: "That is so silly!"

Grasshopper: "No Mommy, dat's NAUGHTY!"

* The Monkey Boy is Grasshopper's best bud.

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday 3rd Birthday Edition

2009-06-23T18:25:00.018-04:00

Grasshopper and The Monkey Boy had a fabulous beach party for their birthday. We had enough partiers that I made 60-something cupcakes and only had a dozen left at the end of the day!

Here are some images of the day in no particular order since I'm running behind.

Enjoy!

In which I answer the siren song of The Mouse

2009-06-23T09:39:00.002-04:00

I cannot believe that I'm saying this, but...we're going to Disney World!

Early this fall, just in time for my birthday.

JR and I hemmed and hawed about spending the money (what with trying to afford another adoption and the state of the economy and all that) but the bottom line is this: we HAVE to go to Orlando.

My father's parents reside in an assisted living facility there, and we have real doubts as to how much longer my grandmother will be with us, and how much longer my grandfather (who has Alzheimer's) will recognize us. Therefore, a trip to Orlando must be made, and if we're going to make the trip, we might as well do it right!

Also, I have some guilt (a shocking thing in a mother, right?) about the opportunities for Grasshopper that we have turned down because we are saving for a sibling. I couldn't stand the idea of not giving him this treat solely because we want another child.

So, a journey to The Mouse it is.

We have made our reservations at a Disney Resort, contacted my godparents and JR's sister who also live in Orlando so that we can see them during our stay and are now mapping out our itinerary.

That's where all of you come in, Dear Internets!

Please give me your tips and tricks for navigating the Land of the Mouse and making this vacation as fun and memorable as possible for every member of our family. We are Disney novices (JR and I have been, of course, but it has been years and we never had a three year old to manage) and therefore can use all of the advice you have to offer.

Thanks!

Oops, my bad...

2009-06-21T13:20:00.005-04:00

So. Um, Hi! [waves weakly]

I totally up and disappeared, didn't I?

Sorry about that.

I meant to write a post about how my parents are the best grandparents EVER because they let us drop Grasshopper off with them for almost a week while JR and I had our first ever post-parenthood vacation (okay, it was really a staycation) together.

But then I didn't.

Because my husband is the best husband EVER. And he puts up with my blogging, and my Tweeting, and my commenting and just generally seeing only the back of my head while I stand at the kitchen counter and play with the laptop. Almost every day.

So when we had the opportunity to connect as a couple (so corny, right?) and to really focus on each other, I took it. I turned the laptop off and *mostly* stayed away from it all week.

So if you've been wondering, "What happened to Natasha? Why hasn't she been leaving me truly insightful and witty comments?" [that's totally how you think of me, right?]

Here's your answer: I was giving them to my husband. And when I'm getting a full night's sleep and not being constantly distracted by the wants and whims of a small boy, it turns out that I really can be truly insightful and witty. Who knew? [Well, I guess the pre-parenthood me and the pre-parenthood JR did, but we haven't seen those people in a really.long.time.]

JR and I had a fantastic time just talking to each other this week. About stuff! And things! Stuff and things that do not relate to small boys in any way! It was marvelous. I live with a really interesting guy, y'all (when I remember to get to know him). We also ate at a bunch of restaurants that do NOT have kids menus, shopped at the Farmer's Market and grilled out, hiked along the Chattahoochee river, and hung out with some childless friends. It was great.

Grasshopper had numerous adventures with his grandparents, and when we finally got home with him late on Friday afternoon he announced that, "I like Unci & Granddaddy's house better."

I took that to mean that he had a lot of fun. And didn't have quite as many rules to follow. Ahem.

But now he is back, and I have been really staggered by how happy I am to have him here at home. While he was gone and I was busy being reminded of exactly why I married JR 6.5 years ago (hint: he is awesome), I missed him. But not that much.

Now that he is home I can't keep my hands off of him. I am picking that boy up just to hold him against me and feel him breathe like I would when he was a baby. I give him kisses until he squirms away laughing, "Stop it! Mommy!" I'm sneaking into his room just to watch him sleep, something I haven't done in months.

My love for him grew more visceral and palpable during his absence, which I hadn't really anticipated. But which I find myself very grateful for. I expected to find that original spark that drew JR and I together 8 years ago (and I'm so pleased that I did) but I didn't expect to fall in love with my child again too.

That was a really special bonus.

Flashback Friday: Every Woman's Worst Nightmare

2009-06-12T08:16:00.004-04:00

I've been participating in Flashback Friday for a few weeks now, and I had something different planned for today, but since Pasha made a fool out of me yesterday...I am bringing back her most embarrassing moment. Bwahahhaha!

Every Woman's Worst Nightmare Originally published on January 13, 2009

I'm sure we've all been there:

You've had the same hairstyle for a while (let's be real, you've had the same hairstyle for years) and you're thinking, "You know, I could go for a change. I should do something new, something sassy, something unexpected with my hair." Maybe it's the change of seasons. Maybe it's the end of a relationship. Maybe you're just sick of your ponytail. Whatever.

And so you scour magazines looking for photos of women with the hair you want. In an effort to remain practical you actually look for women with the same type of hair that you have. For example, with my natural waves, I'm never gonna have Keri Russell's adorable curls or Lucy Lawless's positively reflective straight hair. So I realize that I've gotta work with what I've got. You take these photos to your stylist brimming with hope and exuberance.

But what if you haven't been taking care of your hair? What if you've gone the route of "less is more" when it comes to your personal grooming?

What if your stylist says to you, "Face the facts, girl. It's all gotta come off!"

Well, then you might look my cat, Pasha. And then you might just be a teensy, weensy bit sorry that you refused to have your hair brushed.

Just sayin'.

They're out to get me

2009-06-10T10:31:00.004-04:00

Grasshopper has just recently entered the portion of three-year-old imaginative play which includes things that are scary. There may be a bad wolf lurking in his closet or a mean dinosaur under his bed. There might be a tiny, microscopic buggy stalking him at any moment. The possibilities are endless.

This morning, I was in the kitchen unloading the dishwasher when he raced in, eyes bright, cheeks flushed and announced breathlessly, "Mama, there something in my drawer!"

"Well, I'm busy right now buddy, why don't you tell it to go away?"

"No Mama, you have to come help me! Pleeeeaase, Mama?"

"Okaaaay!"

I sighed as I made my way to Grasshopper's bedroom, expecting to open whichever drawer it is that he has decided contains something scary, show him that there isn't anything there, and then tell him why I have to return to the kitchen instead of playing trains, which I imagine is his true reason for luring me to his room.

"It in my train drawer." He says, pointing to the left-most drawer under his train table, confirming my suspicion that my real reason for being in his room has nothing to do with scary critters and everything to do with wanting a train playmate.

I squat on the floor and slide open the left-most drawer. Which feels heavier than usual. When I get it open about 8 inches a creature leaps out of the drawer towards my face.

I scream like a banshee, falling backwards onto Percy, the much-beloved green Thomas engine and bruising my backside thoroughly. I crab-walk backwards in a panic until I realize that the creature is my damn Persian cat, Pasha.

She sits and begins licking her paw in a most-relaxed manner and Grasshopper collapses on the floor in a fit of hysterical laughter.

"It just Pashy, Mama!" He chortles, "It just Pashy!"

Yep. My boy and my cat. They're out to get me.

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday: Guest Photographer Edition

2009-06-10T06:04:00.001-04:00

Grasshopper got his very own digital camera for his birthday. Here are some of his photos which I've titled The Inadvertent Self-Portrait Series. I think he's ready for art school...

Three

2009-06-07T07:01:00.001-04:00

Dear Grasshopper,

You are three years old today, and I can scarcely believe what a big boy you've become this year. You have learned to ride a tricycle (which you have since outgrown), to use the potty, to sleep in a big boy bed and cut your own food with a knife.

You have started school and learned a lot about what it means to be a friend, to share and to care about others. Your curiosity knows no bounds, and books have become almost a passion for you, which pleases me to no end. Books will be there for you the whole of your life, even a long time from now, when your Daddy and I aren't around, you'll have books to lean on. To take you to faraway lands, and to connect you to others.

You have learned to push my buttons, ho boy have you learned to push my buttons. You've also learned how to make me laugh every.single.time that you tell your father, "I not your boy! I mommy's boy!" and then you add, "Today!" so that he can hold out hope that tomorrow you'll decide to be his boy. But you never do.

You can recite your ABCs almost perfectly, and finally stopped saying, "T,U,V, double X, Y and Z." Which made me secretly sad. You have been known to count upwards of twenty, but never when I want you to show off. That's when you decide to only count to 2.

You are sweet and affectionate, unafraid to ask for a hug whenever you need one. Even at 3:00 in the morning. You have wonderful manners, and say "please" and "thank-you" to almost everyone, almost every time. You compliment my cooking, even when it's just a "buddy-jelly" sandwich. You even say, "Tank you Mommy for making dinner!" each night, and berate your father if he doesn't do the same. I honestly have no idea where you got that idea, but it makes me feel loved and appreciated, something a Mommy often doesn't feel.

I am so proud of you Grasshopper. You are the best boy a Mommy could ask for. I can't wait to see all of the things you learn, and all of the changes you'll make in this 4th year of your life. I love you.

Your Mommy Always and Forever,

Natasha

In which I tried to sign my kid up for swim lessons but ended up cleaning my brains off the entrance to the public pool...

2009-06-03T12:34:00.005-04:00

So. It's a very busy week on Mom Street. (Am I saying that, like, every other week or is it just me?) Grasshopper is turning 3 THIS SUNDAY and we're getting ready for his birthday bash. Also, there's been this:

For the past 6 weeks or so, I checked all over town for swim lessons for my boy that both fit our schedule and our (small) budget. Ultimately my mother found a listing on the county Aquatics website saying that there would be swim lessons available for only $40 at a pool close to us. Yay! The only issue is that it said that sign-ups would be held on June 3rd, at the pool, between 10:00-2:00. That was the only time listed for signing up your child. I thought, "Wow, space must fill up fast since they only give 4 hours for everyone to sign up for swim lessons for the entire summer! I better get there early."

So JR stayed at home to work (it helped that his car is in the shop. Again.) so that I could go queue up early and make sure that Grasshopper got a spot in the second session of the summer since that fit our schedule best.

I got to the pool at about 9:05. Huh, no one present. Okay, well then I'll just run over to CVS and drop off my prescription so that I can pick it up later on. That shouldn't take too long.

Off I run to CVS, where I hand my script (for a sleep aid) to the pharmacist and he enters it into the system, and tells me that my insurance won't pay for it. "Seriously?" I ask. "Seriously." he responds. "It'll be $187 dollars per month without insurance." Ummm, "No!" He says that he'll contact my doc and see if she can prescribe something else. Which bites because I got a free sample of this medication and it has worked beautifully for me. But the sucktitude of insurance is going to have to wait for its very own post.

I headed back to the pool. Still no one around. Hmm, good thing I brought a book! So I sit and wait until 10:10, and still NO ONE shows up. I wandered up to the entrance and poked around, but there were no people, and no signs telling me when to expect any people. So I call JR and ask him to look at the website for me and make sure that I have my information right. He confirms that it says exactly what I thought that it said. He offers to call the county Aquatics department for me, and I take him up on it and head for the Dollar Store since I have a pinata that needs filling, and tables that need plastic covers and cupcakes that need plates to sit on on Sunday.

When I get out of the car in the parking lot of the Dollar Store, my phone rings. JR says, "I finally got ahold of someone who is currently at the pool and says that she can register you for the swim lessons. You better head back over there."

Very well. I get back in my car and head over to the pool. When I get there I can see that there are, in fact, 2 people in the entrance area. I head in and announce that I'm there to register my son for swim lessons.

"Oh," they tell me, "you can't do that until 12:00. That's when the woman with the register gets here."

"But, the website says 10:00-2:00!" I say.

"Yeah, they really need to update that more often. Causes all kinds of problems."

"Yes, because this right here, is a problem! Can I please just put my name on a list or something since I'm here now and I want to make sure that he gets a slot and I don't know if I can be back here exactly at 12:00?"

"Oh, don't worry about it, there's plenty of slots."

"So you can't do anything for me?"

"No, not right now. We don't open at this pool until 12:00."

At this point I was developing an eyebrow tick and decided to just head back to the Dollar Store and see if I couldn't get at least SOMETHING crossed off my list this morning since my prescription and the swim lessons both appeared to be out of my reach.

On the way there, I called JR. "I went back to the pool, but was told that I can't sign Grassshopper up until 12:00." I related.

"WHAT?!?! But they just told me that they could handle the registration!"

"Well, apparently between when you hung up the phone and when I got there one of them actually engaged their brain enough to realize that without any paperwork or a cash register, which apparently doesn't arrive until noon, they couldn't help me."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Are you sure it's worth it?"

"Well, since I don't want my kid to drown, yes, yes it is."

"Valid point. Have fun at the Dollar Store!"

So, the Dollar Store mission actually did get accomplished. I went home for a little while, fixed Grasshopper an early lunch and then went back to the pool.

When I got there there was obviously a lifeguard meeting in progress since there were a large number of scantily clad teenagers sitting around complimenting each others' toe nail polish. The two who had been there this morning pretended not to recognize me.

"Hello, I'm here to register my son for swim lessons." I announced.

A woman in an Aquatics Department polo shirt heaved herself out of her folding chair with a classic public-servant-being-asked-to-do-her-job sigh and walked over to ask if I intended to pay with cash or a check. I told her that I would be paying cash. She asked what level I was signing my kid up for and since the website didn't mention levels, I guessed and said, "Beginner? He's 3."

"Okay, she said, "let me make sure that I have space in that class."

Wait, what?!?! If sign-ups didn't begin until 12:00 today, and I'm here at 12:00 how can there even be a possibility of there not being space? I took a deep breath and asked that very question.

She handed me a flyer and said, "Sign-ups started on May 23. See, look right here."

"But I did not have a flyer." I told her, doing my best to keep my voice from turning shrill. "I had the WEBSITE and it said June 3rd."

"Well, I brought my laptop so that I can show people that the website says exactly what this here flyer says. You were looking at the wrong website."

"It was the County Department of Aquatics website. How can that be the wrong website?"

"Well, see you really should have gone to the specific pool website."

Then she proceeded to explain how one gets to the pool website from the Aquatics Dept website but I couldn't really hear her over the extremely loud string of curse words in my head.

"Look," I finally said, "Do you or do you not have space for my son?"

She leafed through the registration forms of those parents who had come in since May 23 and announced that yes, she did have space.

"Wonderful. Can I also sign him up for a subsequent session so that he can progress throughout the summer?"

"Oh no, you can only sign up for one session at a time, the session that's about to start. Right now you can sign up for session one, and once that's over, you can sign up for session two."

"Wait, you're telling me that I can only sign up for session one now?"

"That's right. If you want to sign up for session two you'll need to come back (at this point she consults her wall calendar) on about the 25th. That's when we'll start sign-ups for session 2."

And then my head exploded. The end.

Flashback Friday: Muh Baybee

2009-05-29T08:11:00.009-04:00

I've been participating in Flashback Friday for a few weeks now, but today I'm doing it a little differently...I didn't start this blog until Grasshopper was 2, so I've never posted any of his baby pictures. Well, today I'm feeling a little nostalgic what with his 3rd birthday coming up in less than 10 days. So for today's Flashback I present to you: Grasshopper, in the beginning.

The first two photos are from our days in the hotel in the small Midwestern city, waiting to take our new baby home (he is about 3 weeks old). The last two are shortly after our arrival in Atlanta at about 4/5 weeks old.

Horror-ified

2009-05-27T18:52:00.004-04:00

I have a nasty sinus infection, and my child has the beginnings of bronchitis. So sleep is at a real premium at our house. I thought about saving this post for when I wasn't hopped-up on Sudafed and could actually give reasonable voice to my outrage.

I cannot. I will simply trust that all of you who read my words, all of you who have a favorable perspective on adoption, all of you who at least attempt to fathom what it must feel like to be an older child with no family...will be horrified by what you will see if you go here:

http://orphan-movie.warnerbros.com/

Shame on you, Warner Bros. Shame on you.

I don't feel adequate to the task of taking you to task just now. I want to point out how incredibly painful a film premise like this is for all adoptees and orphans in the world. I want to point out how if there were almost any other minority group being singled out in this manner, this film could never have been produced. I want to spew insightful venom at you and I am just. not. well. enough. I want to rail against this atrocity of a movie that may just prevent some children from FINDING FAMILIES, but I can't.

I'm going to trust all of you to do it for me.

Flashback Friday: The Green-Eyed Monster

2009-05-22T07:24:00.003-04:00

I'm participating in Flashback Friday again and I think it's an outstanding concept! Here is how Scary Mommy lays it out:

You know those posts that you wrote way back when only your mother was reading? The ones you wish actual people had read? That’s what Flashback Fridays are for. Don’t have any? How about that old story or photo that you could never find a reason to post? Don’t be shy!

The Green-Eyed Monster [originally published October 29, 2008]

Ladies and gentlemen, I am a jealous woman.

I desire a second child for my family with a ferocity that sometimes scares even me. When I see new babies, or women who are pregnant, or even empty infant car seat boxes by the side of the road, my chest aches, the tears prick behind my eyes & I wonder, "why them, why not me?"

If it is someone that I know well, and like, who has what I want it's somewhat easier. If it's someone that I don't like or respect as much, look out 'cause the green-eyed monster is going to be spewing venom in my head. Things like, "Oh my GAWD she is letting the not-even-14-month-old drink Coke, what kind of mother does that? Why does she get three beautiful children?" or "She watches COPS every night with the two year old for family time, why does she get another kid and not ME?"

And then I like a myself a lot less.

This is not the kind of person that I want to be, or the kind of mother that I want Grasshopper to have. He deserves better. So do I. But I don't know how to stop. I have been here before, in this place where my desire to be a mother has outweighed almost every other thought in my head and I had hoped not to ever be here again, or at least not so soon after adopting Grasshopper. But here I sit.

Infertility is BITCH people, make no mistake about it. She attacks quite a number of women, not just me, but I seem to be the only one I care about (which is another strike against me if you're keeping track). I don't feel like I even have the right to feel this awful when I do, in fact have a child. When I am, in fact a mother already. Somehow though, it isn't enough. I feel myself becoming distant from those people around me whose own procreative joy is becoming a toxic substance and I can hardly breathe when they are near. People who I KNOW have every right to their blessings, perhaps even more right than I have, but I can't be happy for them. Not today anyway.

Perhaps tomorrow will be better. Perhaps tomorrow I will get some good news of my own, like an offer on our house (which will hopefully provide us with the money necessary to adopt again), or a resolution to the on-going battle with the adoption attorney who stole our money and broke our hearts twice-over in our quest for a second child. Perhaps tomorrow the green-eyed monster will take the day off and I'll be happy in my own head again.

I sure hope so. Because Grasshopper deserves better. And so do I.

*******

Note from the author: We decided to take our house off of the market. We love where we live. But we still don't have the necessary funds to pursue our adoption. Click the "Be A Piece of the Puzzle" badge on the sidebar to learn more about us and how you can help. Thanks!

Breaking Up is Hard to Do

2009-05-21T08:06:00.004-04:00

I found myself lying in bed last night, wide awake at 2:00 am, pondering my need to have the following, completely cliched conversation:

"I really need some space. You're wonderful, the best guy a girl could ask for. Seriously! I love you very much. But I'm feeling smothered."

"You need to spend some time with your buddies, not just me. We all need space."

"When we go out together, I wish you would mingle more instead of clinging to my hand. It didn't used to be like this. You used to be the life of the party!"

"It's not you, it's me."

"I love physical affection as much as the next girl, but stopping what I'm doing to cuddle or hug 27,000 times a day is a bit much."

"What? No, there's no one else. REALLY! I love you more than I've ever loved anyone."

"Maybe we should just take a little break from each other. You know, find our individual identities again. I'll be back, I promise. I could never leave you."

"Truly, the problem is mine."

Yeah, I really need to have this conversation.

With my son.

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

2009-05-20T07:16:00.005-04:00

On Saturday mornings I usually make a "special" breakfast and then after we eat it, we move all of the chairs out of the dining room so that the table can be wiped down thoroughly before I vacuum.

As you can see, I had a lot of help this past Saturday.

Trying

2009-05-18T07:41:00.004-04:00

It's been a long couple of weeks for my family since our yardsale, and I'm having a tough time really defining WHY. Or rather isolating the primary reasons WHY, because there are myriad to choose from:

I mean, the yardsale was a huge schedule-iterruptus what with all of the preparation, and then having my parents in town to help, and then the event itself, followed by all of the clean up etc. There was also the emotional HIGH of making more money than we thought we possibly could, followed by the emotional low of realizing how much more we still need and confronting the fact that JR is rapidly approaching 44 (6 months & counting) which is the age limit in The Land Far Away for adopting an infant. Our agency doesn't think that it will be a problem since I am 31 and am the primary parent, but still. It would be a whole lot nicer to get our dossier turned in before JR's age could possibly make a difference. Sigh.

Then we all got colds. In MAY. And Grasshopper upgraded his with a double ear infection, because that's how he rolls, yo.

We had Grasshopper's last day of school this past week, and I was so miserable with my cold that I wasn't up to making lemon squares and attending the end of the year picnic. My little guy was so disappointed, but I could tell by looking at the faces of the other parents when I picked him up that they wouldn't have eaten anything made by my sniffling self anyway. But *gah* the end of school. How is that even possible? And he doesn't go back until September.

We're planning Grasshopper's third birthday party, which will be a joint affair with The Monkey Boy, since they are twins as well as best buddies. My kid is almost exactly 2 hours older than his BFF (if you factor in time-zones) and will be rubbing that fact in soon, I imagine.

Planning his party is lots of fun, especially since we're co-hosting with TMB's mommies and therefore don't have to do it all ourselves! Unfortunately, I am not ready for my baby to be three. I mean, I know that there's no stopping it. I know how grown-up he is becoming every day and how proud of him I am for it. But I also always thought that I would have another baby to love and snuggle and hold by the time my first baby was a gangly-limbed BOY. A boy who seldom slows down for hugs and kisses, these days.

Right now it just seems like each single day is taking an eternity to pass, and yet time as a whole is rushing along so fast that my hair is streaming out behind me as I try to stand my ground. To remain in the present. And to find some joy in each day.

Flashback Friday: word games

2009-05-15T06:49:00.005-04:00

Today is my second day participating in Flashback Friday and I think it's an outstanding concept! Here is how Scary Mommy lays it out:

You know those posts that you wrote way back when only your mother was reading? The ones you wish actual people had read? That’s what Flashback Fridays are for. Don’t have any? How about that old story or photo that you could never find a reason to post? Don’t be shy!

Word Games [originally published October 12, 2008]

I remember when Grasshopper was a tiny blob of a baby, he would look at me with his gorgeous "old soul" eyes and I would think to myself, "I can't wait until he starts talking so I'll know all of the deep things he is thinking about."

Fast forward 2.25 years & I am coming to terms with the fact that I still, as a result of Grasshopper's failure to grasp the finer points of enunciation, have no idea what is going on in his head 95% of the time. The other 5% I'm realizing usually relates directly to "chews" (trains for the uninitiated in Grasshopper Speak) "caws" (cars) and dye-sores (dinosaurs). Not deep thoughts in my book, but maybe in the unintelligible ramblings lie the musings on the id of toddlerhood and the why of running in circles.

When my child speaks his father and I are hard-pressed to understand him, and anyone else stands little to no chance. I am going to provide here a Rosetta Stone of Grasshopper Speak. I will do my best with phonetics, but truly, if you are in doubt of how to pronounce something, just choose whichever pronunciation sounds LEAST like the original word or phrase and you'll be in good shape.

Eye Loddie: Ice water

Eye Loddie: I'm ready!

Eye Loddie: Are you ready?

Bud Lite: Bottled Water (if JR had actually taught him to say this, he'd be really proud)

NeeNee: Raisin

Bunny: Barney (everyone's least-favorite dye-sore)

Bunny: Bunny rabbit WHOO HOO (sounds like what it is!) Boo Hoo (seldom used that way!)

Bunny: Banana

Lodden: Backyardigans (I kid you not)

Li Peedie: Little People

Tee: Aunt Kerry

Shawn: Phone

Gi-bee-bees: Grapes

Fee: Fish

Puddy: Pumpkin

Caddy: Cracker

This is just a small sampling of the myriad noises that issue forth from my child's mouth that I must attempt to categorize into something actionable lest I be faced with becoming that mom again.

I have decided that Grasshopper Speak and my attempts at interpreting it are a sort of twisted word game. I figure that stay at home motherhood has cost me a few vocabulary words and also, perhaps my mental muscle doesn't get flexed as much as it once did, so figuring out Grasshopper's needs/requests in the time allotted (the time allotted varies, but as a 2 year old is in charge of the clock, it's never very long) is sort of like my own New York Times Crossword Puzzle! But TIMED! Thirty-nine or so times a day! Sometimes in the morning BEFORE coffee! Sometimes in the middle of the night! Sometimes when I'm on the phone with the insurance company! You get the idea.

So my brain is indeed getting a mighty workout. I have even won a few rounds of this game as evidenced by the Rosetta Stone provided above. I am still waiting for my Grand Prize though; those wonderfully deep thoughts buried somewhere in my little guy's head. I still believe they're in there.

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

2009-05-13T08:02:00.005-04:00

A recent (unseasonably cool) outing to the petting zoo. Can I get an "Awwww?"

It's Finally Here!

2009-05-12T11:32:00.003-04:00

Well, if you didn't notice immediately, Be a Piece of the Puzzle has now gone live! I have been working on it for a week now and I owe a huge THANK YOU to my IT dept (Blogging Mama Andrea) for helping this complete non-techie figure out how to make it happen.

There's even code over there in the sidebar so that if you would like to add the badge to your blog or use it when you write a post about us (hint, hint) it is there for the taking.

Those of you who encouraged me to take this leap, thank you. Please try it out and let me know if it works. I am dying to find out if I managed to do all of this right!

Again, thank you. I feel closer to finding our daughter already.

Happy Mother's Day

2009-05-10T09:53:00.005-04:00

I want to wish a special and beautiful day to every mother.

To those of you whose children are grown and perhaps far from home, those of you who will consider the day a success if you get to pee by yourself, and those who perhaps never knew your child but are mothers in your heart nonetheless.

I salute each of you and hope that your day is full of whatever makes you happiest.

Today, this makes me happiest:

My first ever child-crafted Mother's Day gift. It's laminated y'all.

Love to all the moms,

Natasha

Flashback Friday: that mom

2009-05-08T07:16:00.005-04:00

Today is my first day participating in Flashback Friday and I think it's an outstanding concept! Here is how Scary Mommy lays it out:

You know those posts that you wrote way back when only your mother was reading? The ones you wish actual people had read? That’s what Flashback Fridays are for. Don’t have any? How about that old story or photo that you could never find a reason to post? Don’t be shy!

So I present to you, my first post EVER. I made the decision not to read it before posting lest I feel that need to edit or write something else instead...

Friday, October 10, 2008

that mom

Today I was that mom in the grocery store.

You know the one: the one who just wants to accomplish her shopping trip & get home in one piece. You will all recognize her: hair in a ponytail, clutching her crumpled list & desperately brandishing toy cars like weapons, "Here Grasshopper, don't you want to play with this little car?" waves frantically in toddler's face "Wouldn't that be so much more fun than trying to convince all of these nice people that your Mommy totally sucks?"

Alas, when it's your turn to be that mom, there is little you can do to stop it. Even when you realize that you should just hang on for the ride, you keep trying to forestall the inevitable. You try everything that you can think of to appease the wailing banshee taking over your child's body, all while trying to determine which is the better value on shredded cheese, the generic store brand or the name brand with the coupon.

I tried everything and I am here to tell you that the toddler did NOT want to play with his little car. He did NOT want to play with the free balloon fetched for him from the floral department. And he MOST CERTAINLY DID NOT want to stop screaming. Apparently what he DID want to do was hurl the contents of the cart like a miniature shot-putter.

Wham! goes the shaker of smoked paprika, oh thank GOD this aisle is deserted! Splat goes the package of neufchatel cheese! Thud goes a bag of key limes! Watches in horror as toddler contorts self and reaches for GLASS jar of marinara sauce.

I cut my losses and ran.

I tucked my proverbial tail between my legs and slunk out the front door of that store as well as any woman carrying a screaming two (but looks like he's four) year old can slink. I left the cart full of groceries (and probably a toy car or three) in the international foods aisle with neufchatel cheese and key limes on the floor. I don't know where the paprika ended up.

I always thought that when my turn came to be that mom I would be prepared. I was certain that I would remain calm and collected in the face of attempted toddler tyranny. I would do as the experts say and ignore the writhing, screaming child and continue doing what I came to the store to do. Failing that, I would carry the child to the car for a time-out until he could collect himself and we could reenter the store to cheers from admiring parents and non-parents everywhere.

This obviously is not what happened.

I hope that with each turn in the role of that mom I will gain insight, wisdom and confidence commiserate with the decibel level being achieved by my child. I hope that I will parent in the real world the way I do in my head. I hope that Grasshopper and I will both be better people for it.

In the meantime though, do they offer shot-put lessons for 2 year olds? I think I've got a natural!

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

2009-05-06T07:52:00.009-04:00

I took a day last week and said, "Forget about the yard sale for today. It's a gorgeous day, the strawberries are ripe and it's time to show your son where food comes from."

So we met Good Attorney and her son Little Z for some very old-fashioned fun.

The next move

2009-05-05T11:27:00.008-04:00

I am starting to get my house back to normal after the craziness that was our last two weeks. There were things for the yard sale in every room of my house, I kid you not. Poor Grasshopper still has an infant carseat (his, originally) in his bedroom because it hasn't made it's way back to the attic. Why did it leave the attic? Because JR knows that I was never really crazy about it and thought that we might sell it in the yard sale. I vetoed that idea because we'll be adopting an older infant this time around, not a newborn, and so we won't need to use it for very long. I may not love it, but I don't want to replace it for 3 months of use either! So there it sits in Grasshopper's room waiting for one of us to prioritize its return to the attic. Based on how sore I am after my workout today, I don't think it's going anywhere soon. Sorry kid!

JR and I are thrilled that we made as much money as we did on Saturday, but at the same time it's a little frustrating to know that $1500.00 is really a drop in the bucket compared to the total amount needed. My friend Julie at LLOL (Literally Laughing Out Loud) left the following comment on my last post, and it occurred to me that other readers might be wondering the same things.

Oh, Natasha - that's WONDERFUL. I feel like such a heel - I am behind in blogs and didn't know you were having the sale. I'm so happy for you - both that you're raising the money and that you're faith in your fellow human beings has been restored. Do you have other fundraising ideas? How can we help? How much have you raised altogether and how much do you need to raise?

So in answer to your questions Julie (and fellow faithful visitors to Mom Street) we have saved/raised a total of just over $7,000 to date. We need $20,000.

I am choosing to look at this as "Hey, we're over a third of the way there!" instead of, "Good grief, we still need $13,000 and I don't know where it's going to come from" because that way lies MADNESS.

We have cut a lot of "extras" from our lives (as have most Americans these days) in order to put more into our dedicated adoption savings account. We are still contributing to JR's 401K, sending Grasshopper to preschool, and putting money in savings for our family. It won't be a problem for us to support our second child once we bring her (I'm going to go ahead and admit that I really want a girl this time) home, but coming up with 20K in cash isn't easy for most families, I imagine. The US government provides a very generous tax credit of around $12,000 for adoption, but you don't get that until well after your adoption is complete!

That leads me to what you might be able to do to help. The idea of asking for charity is really tough for JR and I to swallow. However, I have come up with what I think is a pretty creative way to allow people to help us financially and be recognized for their contribution. What I need right now is feedback from you guys, my readers and friends, as to whether this is something you would like to see me try or if asking for money on my blog is utterly obnoxious and will cause you to remove Mom Street from your Reader forever. I love this blog. I love the friendships I've made, the outlet it provides and the record of Grasshopper's childhood it's creating. I don't want to alienate anyone.

So, here's the idea: I'm calling it "Be a Piece of the Puzzle." The idea is to find a puzzle for our new child's room that is in some way reflective of The Land Far Away or just the world in general that is around 100 pieces. I will put a Paypal donation button on the blog and encourage people to purchase puzzle pieces for $10 each. Then I will write the name of the contributor on their piece(s) and when the puzzle is complete I'll frame it and hang it in her room. That way she will be able to see the names of all of the people who helped us bring her home.

What do you think?

Once I subtract the money for the puzzle itself and the frame, we'll still make close to $1000.00 towards the adoption and give those people who may want to help an opportunity to do so.

But how will it be received? I don't know. This post is my way of testing the water, so please share your response to the idea with me. And be honest!!!

**Edited to add: Those of you who read here regularly know which country we're adopting from. Due to some privacy concerns, I am no longer referring to that country by name. I am calling it The Land Far Away (TLFA). I would appreciate it if you follow suit in your comments. If you mention the country by name I will not be able to publish your comment, and we all know how hard that is for a blogger! Don't make me do it! Thanks for understanding.**

So much more than money

2009-05-03T10:54:00.014-04:00

Our Adoption Fund Raising Yard Sale took place yesterday. It was a lot of work, and a very long day. It was so completely worth it.

We have raised over $1500 and climbing!

I am in shock. I never imagined that we could raise that much money in one Saturday. And we wouldn't have without the generosity of our friends, our family, other bloggers and complete strangers.

In the weeks leading up to our sale Blogging Mama Andrea (who is a terrific blogger and an American living in Germany) asked for my address so that she could send me a brand new Hotsling to include in our sale. Kristen Chase of Motherhood Uncensored made arrangements to drive across the city with 3 kids on a Saturday morning so that she could bring me some fabulous donations and also (very generously) shop our sale. Last week I went to Athens to have lunch with the extraordinary Mir Kamin of Woulda Coulda Shoulda and picked up some great donations that she and her lovely children had put together for me. Then I had a fabulous time meeting Merrily from Life is but a Dream for coffee and telling my adoption story to her so that she could share it with others in our community. Talented and altruistic bloggers, every one of them, and women that I'm now privileged to call my friends.

When I sent an email out on Wednesday evening to almost everyone in my contact list, I asked them to forward it to anyone that they thought might be interested. In response, my friend Maria sent our email to at least 100 people with this introduction:

Folks,

I never forward emails, but this one is for a good cause. After a heartbreaking attempt at an adoption in which the mom changed her mind (you can read about it in their blog: http://exileonmomstreet.blogspot.com/2009/01/interview-meme-from-jim.html), this family is trying to muster enough funds through a Yard Sale to be able to adopt a baby in The Land Far Away. Please see below for the Yard Sale info.
Thanks,
Maria

Other friends passed it on to their friends, posted it on message boards, printed it and tacked it to the bulletin board at their child's preschool. In short, went above and beyond what I had even expected.

The next morning, I got this email:

Natasha,
I got your blog from a friend of a friend. We brought our baby girl back from The Land Far Away last June and it was and has been an unimaginable blessing. I would love to donate some things to your yardsale and if you would like to talk about adoption I am happy to meet with you. We (Atlantan's) have an amazing Land Far Away support group. I have made so mnay friends and feel wonderful that my daughter will grow up knowing many other kids from The Land Far Away. Also The Land Far Away society here in Atlanta is very supportive of these adoptions. Let me know if you would like me to bring some stuff by and good luck and please feel free to contact me if you have any questions.

MK

The following day, I posted an ad about the sale and our cause on Craigslist. I got this response:

I just saw your post because I am looking for a small desk and saw that you are having it for your adoption. My husband and I just completed a domestic infant adoption and our son was born Nov. 26th. I just wanted to send you a quick email to let you know how happy I am for you even though I don't know you and CONGRATS!!!! Adoption is such a long journey and I'm glad yours dream is coming true! I wish you all the best and I hope you raise LOTS of funds for such an EXPENSIVE journey! Take Care!

KW

I began to hope that we would reach my goal (that I hadn't really even had the courage to voice) of over $1000.00 raised. If so many people were reaching out before the sale even began then maybe we weren't naive in thinking that without price tags people would give more to us than some items were worth simply because our cause was just.

We were up well before the sun on Saturday morning and JR, my father, and I set to work setting up for the sale and emptying boxes. My mother and Grasshopper ran amuck, as was appropriate. By 8:30 am we had people waiting, but everyone was very respectful of our "No Early Birds" signs. Our wonderful friends Anne and Lynn arrived just about the time we "opened the doors" and we were off and running! I don't think any of us had a bite to eat or a sip to drink for almost 4 hours! We most certainly didn't sit down.

People really embraced our family and our desire for another child in a way that I hadn't even dared to hope. Sure, there were a few people who gave me a dollar for an item that I'd hoped to get $20 for, but they were FAR outnumbered by the people who gave me $10 for something I thought was worth about $5. Some simply pressed a $50 or a $20 0r even a $5 bill into my hand and wished us good luck on our quest. A couple who moved to Atlanta from The Land Far Away just 3 years ago embraced us with a warmth that still moves me to tears and shared their own infertility heartbreak with us.

At the end of the day, we were all utterly exhausted, completely sore, and incredibly elated at the same time. Even before we counted the money, even though we got rained on at the end, we knew it that had been a great day. When we reached $1500 without having sold a few of our larger and more expensive items (those are going on Craigslist and I may already have buyer for one of them) I started to cry.

Every dollar that goes into our adoption fund brings us one step closer to our baby, and we covered a lot of ground yesterday, but that wasn't what brought on my tears. It was the realization that my faith in the human race had been restored to me in just one day.

After everything that we've been through in the past 2 years (and even the past 2 weeks) my trust in people had been shaken to a degree that I wasn't really aware of. But as I responded to hugs and money from strangers, my heart got fuller and fuller. When we realized just how much we had been given, my heart overflowed. My relief in knowing that I had been right for most of my life and that people are inherently good and kind and decent left me with nothing to do but cry.

We still may not make it all of the way to $20,000, but I've already gotten so much more than money.

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

2009-04-29T08:02:00.006-04:00

Best Buds

Closure

2009-04-28T14:49:00.004-04:00

As I alluded to in my last post, JR and I spent a lot of time over the past few days analyzing the situation we unexpectedly found ourselves in. We were confronting old ghosts, and old dreams and it was rough going. He never wavered in his stance that these people were not people that we could trust and that we ought not to have any dealings with them whatsoever.

For me, it was not nearly so cut and dry. Yes, we have suffered greatly at the hands of these women. No, I do not want to do so again. In fact, I'm not sure that I could survive it.

But there is Grasshopper to consider. There is always Grasshopper to consider. He is the greatest joy of my life. He is a marvelous little boy who I hope to guide into becoming a marvelous man. And when he is a man, I will need to tell him everything that I know about his birthfamily, and I will have to look him in the eye and explain our decisions to him. I want to know that we did everything we could. I want to know that we have not let him down. Saying "No" to this sibling without knowing the circumstances was just not something I could do.

So we compromised. I called my friend Good Attorney who helped us out when Evil Attorney unexpectedly faxed bills for many thousands of dollars to JR's office on New Years Eve for an adoption that had "failed" 7 months prior. With a note requesting that we please post-date our check for the previous year.

I told Good Attorney that I couldn't just turn my back on this situation and that I wanted to call Evil Attorney but was scared to do so. She suggested that I allow her to make the phone call for me and I nearly wept with gratitude. If merely seeing the area code on my phone had caused me to shake, cry and nearly vomit, I can only imagine what actually speaking to the woman would have done to me.

So yesterday afternoon Good Attorney finally got through to Evil Attorney. Evil Attorney expressed outrage at "the way JR had spoken to her" on Friday and was looking for an apology. None was forthcoming. (In speaking to my husband he showed me the bloody spot on his tongue where he bit it so hard during their conversation. I believe that he never said anything inappropriate, and even if he did, WTF lady? Did you honestly expect him to be blowing sunshine and rainbows up your...?) She also suggested that I was sneaking behind my husband's back in having Good Attorney contact her.

Good Attorney assured her that JR had full knowledge of this conversation and asked a number of pointed questions and discovered many things about the situation that I find unbloggable because I need to protect the privacy of my child. Suffice to say, it was enough to convince me that the child she is carrying is not meant for our family. It would be impossible for us to proceed with this adoption for myriad reasons, not just because of our painful past.

For me, a weight has been lifted. I am so relieved to know that I can indeed hold my head high when I tell my son why we didn't accept his birthmother's offer of the potential for a biological sibling for him this time. I am hopeful that Allison will indeed follow through and place this child with a loving family. There are so many of them out there, waiting and hoping and praying that a birthmother might choose them. I hope that they will get to experience the wonder and joy that raising Grasshopper is giving us.

Now that we know where she is again, I will resume sending photos and updates of our child to her. Not just because I hope that seeing the life that he has will inspire her to place this child and any subsequent children with loving families, but because it is the right thing to do.

For JR, and for many of my friends, the slate was wiped clean when Allison chose to lie and cheat and steal from us, and we no longer owe her anything. For me, that's not true. I will never stop owing her for giving Grasshopper life and for allowing him to spend that life with us. Almost 3 years ago I made a promise to her that she would always know how he is doing, how he is growing, and how loved he is.

Unlike her, I honor my commitments and I will continue to honor this one.

Out of Nowhere

2009-04-26T09:06:00.008-04:00

So. On Friday morning, I posted about how crazed I was feeling in preparation for our Adoption Fundraising Yard Sale. Part of the reason that I'm feeling so stressed about it is that I want it to be perfect. I want to make sure that I do everything right so that we can maximize the profits and thereby get us closer to finding our second child. I don't want to leave a stone unturned and regret it later.

Late on Friday morning, while Grasshopper and I were at the park, my cell phone became possessed. Every time it was opened, it immediately started dialing "4444434444#34433" on and on until you closed it. This happened if I was attempting an outgoing call, or trying to receive an incoming call. I turned it on and off, took the battery out to no avail. Since we don't have a home line, I was essentially cut off from phone conversation once we returned home.

I'm going to interrupt my story now to say that if you haven't read this post, you need to or the rest of my tale won't make an ounce of sense. It's long, I know, but it really is necessary. You only need to read the first question and answer. Oh, and you might want a tissue handy...

Yeah, lots of laughs, right?

Well, on Friday afternoon my possessed cell phone rang. I had just put Grasshopper down for his nap, and I considered not even looking to see who it was since I couldn't answer, but I decided to check since I can always email, IM or Tweet with the right people. The area code for the number dialing in was that of the small Midwestern city that has featured prominently in my life over the past few years.

I stared at that number and I started to shake. Then I started to cry. Then got sick to my stomach.

The scenarios were racing through my head at an alarming speed: Was Grasshopper's birthmother dead? Had one of the girls we had tried to adopt been removed from the mother's care? (it's happened to these "mothers" plenty of times before) Was the attorney calling to hassle us for more money, even though she cashed our check marked "Paid In Full For All Services Rendered" and therefore had no right to more of our money? Was it Vivian calling me directly for some reason?

I didn't know, and I had no immediate way to find out.

After a few minutes I calmed down enough to send this email to JR, "I just missed a call from (small Midwestern city) and I'm shaking and sick."

20 minutes later, he sent this response, "I am ill too. It was Evil Attorney and I spoke with her."

THAT WAS ALL HE SAID. (Remind me to strangle my husband later, okay?)

My response, "And?????"

His reply 15 minutes later, "Allison is pregnant again. They asked us to agree to adopt the baby."

My response, "Please come home. Please. I'm breaking."

17 minutes later, "Getting in the car now. I love you."

He got home, and we spent the next little while just clinging to each other as old wounds covered with layers of scar tissue were torn open again. Metaphorically speaking, we bled. I wept, and JR raged. I wondered about Allison, now pregnant with her 6th child, and how she was going to cope. JR wondered about Evil Attorney and her absolute gall in contacting us again. And both of us, both of us, were in awe of the stupid, stupid, stupid parts of ourselves that wanted to call Evil Attorney back and tell her that we would give them every penny we have if Allison would only give us another child.

We won't do that, of course. JR told Evil Attorney that there was no way that we were going to trust Allison again, and then told her a series of lies about how dire our financial situation is in the hope that if she believed that there was no money to be made here, that she would finally leave our family in peace. Unfortunately, he didn't ask me how I wanted to proceed before doing what he felt he had to do to protect our family.

I wish that I could call Evil Attorney and tell her that it's not as bad as all that, and that we would be trilled to adopt Allison's child given the right set of circumstances: That Allison support herself during this pregnancy like she did during her pregnancy with Grasshopper. That she have the baby, and sign the baby over, before we are expected to travel there. That she expect an extremely minimal monetary hand out from us, because the money just isn't there.

If she truly wants to place this child here with her other child, then it shouldn't be too hard to agree to that. If she just wants someone to pay her bills for the next 6 months or however long she has left in her pregnancy (JR can't remember what Evil Attorney told him regarding a due date) well, then she won't agree.

But JR is dead set against inviting any of these people's drama back into our lives under any circumstances, and I can obviously see his point. I just have a very hard time slamming shut a door like this one.

This Blogger will Self-Destruct in 3... 2 ...

2009-04-24T06:48:00.001-04:00

The big Adoption Fundraising Yard Sale upon which I have pinned many of my hopes and dreams...it's in a week. A WEEK people. And I am not ready.

I still have boxes of my own stuff to sort through, appointments to go get other people's stuff, a permit to arrange for from the City, volunteers to line up (where are all of you people who said you would help? Hello? Hello? Is this thing on?), posters to be made (insert expletive here because I am NOT a crafty chick), an advertising email to be created, a donation box to be made, tables to be picked up from a friend, prices to be researched on some of the "larger" items that have been donated already, cash to be pulled from the bank so that I can make change, and probably fifty gazillion other things that I can't think about right now on account of I am FREAKING OUT.

I also have to take Grasshopper to the store to choose a new bicycle because that child is essentially potty trained, and he deserves it. Unfortunately this will mean spending every waking moment at the park until he either tires of the new bike (bwahahaha I am so funny) or exhausts himself and falls asleep on the darn thing.

So I guess my point here, (yes there is one, stop looking at me!) is that I may not be around much this week. Or I may be here daily documenting my self-destruction, you never know. Okay, I guess I didn't really have a point afterall. Nevermind.

More Conversations with Grasshopper (You Can't Make This Stuff Up)

2009-04-23T07:29:00.002-04:00

On a recent evening, Grasshopper, JR and I were playing in the backyard together. Grasshopper is just starting to get into role-playing sorts of pretending...

Grasshopper to me: "You Daddy, I Mommy!"

Me: "You want me to pretend to be Daddy and you'll pretend to be Mommy?"

Enthusiastic nod.

JR: "If you're Mommy, and Mommy is Daddy, then who am I?"

Grasshopper: "You a girl!"

Takes in the aghast look on JR's face and the grin on Mommy's.

Grasshopper: "You a Big Boy girl!"

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

2009-04-22T08:24:00.004-04:00

One of our favorite playgrounds in Atlanta is at the private airport, right next to the runway.

I've titled this one "Longing."

Potty Training V. 3.0 Introducing.....My BIG KID!

2009-04-20T09:05:00.007-04:00

Wow.

At the risk of utterly jinxing myself...My kid is about 90% potty trained! I am so incredibly proud of him. It has been a lot of work, a lot of stickers, and a lot of bribes (who wants a cookie?) but we are nearly there.

For the past two days Grasshopper has worn underwear all day and in those 2 days he had ONE accident. An accident so small that had he not copped to it, JR and I would have missed it completely. He has been wearing a pull-up for nap time and keeping it dry sometimes, but not enough for me to switch to underwear just yet. At night he still definitely needs a pull-up, and that's just fine with me.

Yesterday we drove down to the in-laws house an hour and a half away. We put him in a pull-up for the drive, but when we got to Grandma and Grandpa's, it was DRY! Then he peed on their potty (a huge milestone as I have been unable to get him to pee on a potty not belonging to us or his school, previously) and then he kept his underwear dry for the entire visit.

We are still running to the potty every few minutes at his insistence (especially if he isn't getting enough attention. He quickly figured out that announcing "I need go potty!" is a great way to get people to notice him.) and often we're in the bathroom just long enough to pull his pants and underwear down and set him on the potty before he announces, "I empty!" But I will take that any day over dirty underwear and diapers! The novelty has to wear off sometime, right?

Pooping on the potty is still full of drama "I no like it!" he wails pitifully, "I no want go potty!" But he has been doing it, when we insist, and I hope that with a little more practice he'll stop making himself constipated by avoiding it until it cannot be avoided anymore. Ahem.

So that's where we stand on potty training Day 10. I think I'd better go research bicycles. This kid has earned his!

Helping Mommy "throw away" the diapers. Bye-Bye Diapers!

100!!!

2009-04-16T11:11:00.000-04:00

This is my 100th post. I need to write that again.

This is my 100th post.

Huh. Still hard to believe, but I won't bore you by continuing to belabor the point. I'll bore you with something else!

Like, 100 things about me. Because lots of other bloggers have done it, and I'm just a big follower. Hey, that should be thing 100!

100. I'm a big follower.
99. I'm an only child.
98. I have been legally blind (without my glasses) for well over a decade.
97. I first got glasses in the 2nd grade.
96. I still hate wearing glasses.
95. I can't wear contacts because my eyes are too dry.
94. This is in spite of the fact that I cry at the drop of a hat. Go figure.
93. I attended a women's college.
92. I have a degree in Political Science.
91. I have never used my degree in political science.
90. I have, however, used my Diamonds and Diamond Grading certification from the GIA.
89. I LOVE sparkly things.
88. Especially if they're set in platinum.
87. Or made by an actual artisan.
86. I have 3 cats.
85. 3 is too many, but thinning the herd seems a trifle harsh.
84. The pure-blood Persian (a rescue, as they all are) is the most tolerant of small children.
83. She is not, however, tolerant of humor or poor quality nibbles.
82. Her name is Pasha but we call her Pushy. Because she is.
81. Grasshopper calls her "Pussy" and I think it's hil-ar-ious.
80. Because I love Are you Being Served.
79. I studied Ancient Greek Philosophy and Art History in Greece as a college sophomore. Yeah, that's come in handy.
78. I have a tattoo.
77. You'll never in a million years guess what it is.
76. It hurt, but the rush when it was over was incredible. I can see how people get addicted.
75. My middle name is Sarene.
74. My parents were hippies.
73. Autumn is hands-down my favorite season.
72. If I have to choose between mountains or beach, I'll choose mountains.
71. I'd rather not have to choose.
70. I am arachnophobic.
69. I consider it justified since I got bit by a brown recluse at summer camp.
68. I also broke my wrist at summer camp.
67. And two fingers.
66. I can't believe I want to send my kid to summer camp.
65. Three weeks sans kiddo? Oh yeah, now I remember why summer camp is still a great idea.
64. I plan to send him to the same summer camp I went to.
63. I was fascinated with all things Native American long before I had a Native American child.
62. This is harder than I thought it would be.
61. I fantasize about attending culinary school to become a pastry chef.
60. I don't actually want to work as a pastry chef. Baking is like therapy for me and doing it for a living would spoil that.
59. I am almost 12 years younger than my husband.
58. My second marriage, his first.
57. My favorite musical artist who I dream of seeing live (but given his age and infrequent live performances this may remain solidly in the dream category) is JJ Cale.
56. I used to love going to the movies but now I hate it. It's too expensive and people are jerks.
55. I can never have too many shoes or handbags. I used to buy stilettos. Now, if you can't run around the park in 'em, I don't bother.
54. I can't stand ignorant people.
53. I am a backseat driver.
52. I can get blisters on my feet just riding in the car.
51. This is despite 14 years of ballet which ought to have toughened them up a bit more!
50. I cannot believe you're still reading this.
49. I love plastic cheese. You know, the stuff that gets drizzled on "nachos" at the ballpark? Love the stuff.
48. I *love* names. The meanings behind them, the familial connections, the silly definitions in baby name books, all of it.
47. If I could, I would have a ton of kids just so I could name them.
46. My favorite drink is Woodford Reserve Bourbon with just a little splash of ginger ale. Heaven.
45. When I was 16 I spent 3 weeks backpacking in Mexico.
44. I've tried really hard to learn Spanish at various times and never been successful.
43. I adore college football.
42. I used to be afraid of needles, like chase me around the room and hold me down at the doctor's office afraid. I'm not any more.
41. I was diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder in college after being involved in several severe car accidents in a 6 month span.
40. I wasn't the driver for most of these accidents.
39. I have VERY difficult time coping with change that I haven't planned for. I am not a go with the flow kind of gal.
38. I am allergic to dogs.
37. I am more of a disciplinarian than I thought I would be, pre-motherhood.
36. I swore that I would bake all of my child's birthday cakes and I have yet to bake a single one.
35. I can bake a cake that tastes great, but I can't get it to look like what I see in my head.
34. I love the concept of gardening, and I'm gung-ho every spring, but when it's time to actually sweat and get eaten by bugs, I retreat indoors.
33. I have never learned to drive a stick-shift vehicle.
32. I HATE potty training.
31. I have a thing for older men. There isn't a single man under age 40 on my Personal Top 5 list.
30. I love Disney movies. The animated ones, not that High School Musical crap.
29. My favorite one used to be Peter Pan, until I had a Native American child. The depiction of them in that movie is AWFUL.
28. My husband proposed to me while I was having a temper tantrum. He had to tell me, "Sit down, I am trying to propose to you!"
27. I figure this means that he knew what he was getting himself into.
26. I never thought that I would have a son. Always figured I'd be a girl mom.
25. I've said it other places, but it bears repeating: I want to be Ina Garten when I grow up.
24. I hate Los Angeles. I have been in several foreign countries where I felt more comfortable.
23. I am a fourth generation Florida native.
22. I am getting really sick of talking about me.
21. I'm sure that you're getting really sick of reading about me!
20. I would hate being famous.
19. 3 of my 4 grandparents are still living.
18. Tulips are my favorite flower.
17. I believe that respect must be earned. I do not believe that ANYONE gets pass on this.
16. I despise Caillou.
15. I love super spicy food. Thai, Mexican, Indian, doesn't matter as long as it's full of flavor and HOT!
14. I don't have nearly as many close girlfriends in my life as I would like.
13. I still think my Daddy is one of the smartest people I know.
12. I am so glad that I married someone who shares my (warped) sense of humor.
11. I am fascinated to see if Grasshopper inherits it. Ah, Nature vs. Nurture.
10. I am extremely hard to please.
9. I don't hold anyone to a higher standard than I hold myself.
8. I wish that rather than being eco-conscious (which I am) that I was more eco-active.
7. I am wearing a smaller pant size than I was in January.
6. I regularly dress my kid better than myself.
5. I would much rather receive a nicely wrapped present than a gift bag.
4. I do use gift bags, but only if the gift is impossible to wrap otherwise.
3. I despise laundry. It's never, ever done. Unless you have naked day and do it all then.
2. I like my sedan but miss driving an SUV.
1. I appreciate each and every reader I have, and especially all of you who take the time to comment. Thanks for reading!!!

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

2009-04-15T07:40:00.002-04:00

Grasshopper, Baby Sister and The Monkey Boy. Easter Sunday.

At least one of 'em is happy about sitting for a picture...

Potty Training V. 2.1 HELP!

2009-04-14T09:43:00.003-04:00

Crap.

We were doing so well yesterday morning, and then Grasshopper got up from his nap. And wouldn't go on the potty. He said, "I sick. I can't go." followed by "I no like potty."

I attempted to stay positive through 4 accidents and multiple trips to the potty with no pee or poop being deposited. I told him what a big kid he is. I counted all of the gazillion stickers on his potty chart and reminded him that all of those represented a time when he peed or pooped on the potty. He can do this!

Only, he isn't.

This morning, same thing. We spent forever and a day in the bathroom with me reading books and him saying, "I no can try anymore. I sick."

For the record, the child is not sick. He has no symptoms of anything, and is on antibiotics for his ear infection, so I KNOW that isn't going on. He just doesn't want to do this any more because it's hard.

I felt like I had to put him in a pull-up for school this morning because there are 10 children in his class and it isn't fair to them or to Grasshopper's teachers for them to deal with the number of accidents he seems prepared to have in his quest for not going on the potty anymore. Other than that, I'm only putting him in pull-ups for nap and bed.

Is this a mistake? I don't know. I'm at a complete loss as to what to do. He seems so down about the whole thing, even though he was making such excellent progress. It is causing JR and I a lot of frustration which we are trying to hide, but which I'm sure comes through anyway.

So please, Dear Internets, help a sister out. What do I do with this child who yesterday went HOURS with just one little accident and today wants nothing to do with the potty? With the kid who begs to watch "Potty Power" again and again and then won't sit on his own potty. Who keeps asking for the bike that my parents promised him for when he is accident-free, but won't do what is necessary to get it.

I am at my wit's end, and I really don't want to screw this up.

Potty Training V. 2.0

2009-04-13T14:10:00.003-04:00

Wow. I have an almost-potty-trained little boy on my hands y'all! This time around, things have been going much better than they did with V. 1.0.

Grasshopper has been making noises about wanting to wear underwear and go on the potty for a few weeks, and when I judged that he really meant it this time [or was faking me out really well this time], JR and I started reading up on potty training again.

We knew that we would have to take a somewhat different approach than we did last time, because every family member found the One Day Potty Party approach absolutely exhausting and overwhelming. The best decision that we made,BY FAR, was to start after Grasshopper's nap on Day 1, which happened to be Friday. Obviously, I wanted to start this process on a weekend so that I would have JR home to help, and so that Grasshopper would have the maximum number of days in a row at home to gain confidence and experience before I sent him off to try out his new skills at school. The most important part though, was the fact that Day 1 was really actually a half day. None of us got so exhausted, and we were able to end the day on a high note, and with Grasshopper still feeling really good about saying "bye-bye" to diapers.

That first day, JR and I were amazed at how much Grasshopper had retained from our previous try. The first time we had him sit on the potty, he peed! The second time he pooped! He only had 3 accidents that day, and 5 successes. We were all really proud and excited, and his Potty Chart was becoming covered with stickers. The best part of the day was when Grasshopper told me, "I proud of yourself for go on the potty!"

After Grasshopper was in bed (wearing a pull-up) my parents arrived for the weekend. My mom turned 60 (!) on Saturday, so they came to visit since what she really wanted for her birthday was to see her grandson. Grasshopper was thrilled to see them when he got up, and as I had expected, having more cheerleaders for the potty-training was helpful. That day was kind of a blur for me, and I spent a ton of it in the kitchen cooking a birthday feast for my mom, so I need to give lots of credit to JR for keeping the potty ball rolling. I do recall that there were a LOT of accidents, and that I was questioning my sanity for a bit.

On Easter Sunday, we started the day out strong with only a couple of accidents in the morning. We had Grasshopper's best friend, The Monkey Boy and his family over for brunch, so from about 10:00 until after nap time, we had Grasshopper in a pull-up. A pull-up that stayed remarkably dry. I got pretty worried when just before nap time he started telling me that he was done with the potty and wanted to be a diaper-wearing baby instead of a big kid. That's the point where we lost him last time we tried potty training, and I did NOT want the potty train to derail again.

JR and I stayed really positive and told him that he was doing great (pointing to his sticker-covered potty chart as evidence) and reminded him that The Monkey Boy's 9 month-old sister (who had just been crawling around the backyard), is a baby, not him! Showing him the empty diaper drawer and reminding him that we all told the diapers bye-bye also proved helpful.

Ultimately, I think that he was just worn out from the day, and resented having to stop playing with The Monkey Boy (who still wears diapers) to go sit on the potty. After his nap he did really well again, but we were getting concerned because he hadn't pooped since Friday evening, and he's typically more regular than that. Pee in the potty wasn't too hard to achieve, but poop was proving elusive.

This morning marks Day 4, and I am amazed by the progress we've made. Grasshopper not only pooped on the potty, but he only had ONE accident this morning! I am so proud of my little guy that I could just burst. Before you become a parent, you really have to idea how much things like this will absolutely consume you. How you will live and die by something like poop in a potty. The ridiculousness of it is astonishing.

Before his nap today, Grasshopper was saying that he was getting sick of going to the potty, and I don't blame him. I'm sick of being in that room too! So I made a deal with him that after his nap, I wouldn't make him go the potty unless he told me that he needed to, but that if he has an accident, it means that he needs more practice and I'll have to force him in there some more.

So please send some positive potty vibes our way this afternoon, because Grasshopper and I are both ready to have a life outside of the bathroom again!

Connections

2009-04-08T19:40:00.005-04:00

Grasshopper is going to be 3 in June. I can barely believe how fast he's growing and how rapidly the synapses are firing and making connections in that amazing little mind if his.

At the dinner table tonight, JR and I were talking, and Grasshopper (who has an ear infection, thank you very much) asks, "What was dat noise?"

He notices things that my more experienced brain skims right over, so I had to think back to what had just been happening. Oh, right. I squirted a bit more ketchup on my plate for my sweet potato fries, and the plastic bottle made a "thump-tump" sound. Not a silly fart-type sound, just the noise of the plastic contracting under pressure and then expanding again when said pressure was relieved.

"Do you mean the noise the ketchup bottle made?" I ask him.

He nods.

"Well, that was just the noise of the bottle expanding and contracting." I tell him.

He thinks for just a moment.

"Like my juice!" he says and turns to his juice box and sucks really hard on the straw until the box contracts. Then he lets go, and the box springs back to its normal shape with a distinct thump. Grasshopper grins.

JR and I look at each other with our mouths wide open, because WOW! He gets things now. Things that I didn't know not-yet-three-year-olds got. Like, you know, physics. Which I opted out of my senior year of high school, just so we're all clear.

Sometimes motherhood is humbling in unexpected (and very enjoyable) ways.

Aaaand the hits just keep on comin'

2009-04-07T22:07:00.005-04:00

When I last left you [and I assume you've all been on the edge of your seat] JR was on the side of the interstate in NC.

Well, he has since had his car towed to a dealership in Charlotte, gotten a ride and a free loaner car from one of his business partners, and returned home to try and catch up with everything he missed last week, work-wise.

He has been a wonderful Daddy and husband, and Grasshopper and I are very glad to have him home.

That said, he has been working a lot, and he will have to go back to Charlotte on Thursday to collect his car.

And Grasshopper is sick. Not terribly, horribly ill, just sick. He has been running a fever of 99.6 - 99.9 for two days and wiping snot on everything within reach (and even some things I didn't know he could reach). I am fully anticipating an ear infection since he doesn't appear to be able to catch a cold without escalating into an ear infection.

As of right now, though, he doesn't feel all that bad, but can't go anywhere or do anything [hello contagions!] and because it's f-ing freezing out even the backyard is off limits. Needless to say, he and I are both rather sick of each other at the moment. Apparently not feeling good and not being able to leave your house makes you want to push Mom's buttons...

And now our wireless router has decided to give up the ghost and cease working. I can still blog (obviously) but not nearly as often as when the laptop is parked on the kitchen counter. If you're following me on Twitter, you're about ready to release the hounds, I imagine, because I haven't been there either.

So I haven't really been here, and I haven't been anywhere else fabulous either.

Oh, and did I mention we're potty training again this weekend? Oh yeah, we are.

***Edited to add: I woke up at 3:30 am with a raging sore throat. I hope this is the end of my little pity-party!***

I hate you and your law Murphy.

2009-04-03T14:27:00.005-04:00

JR was supposed to be home by dinner time today. Earlier if possible.

But this morning, about the time that I expected a "we're on the road!" phone call, I got a, "Well, my partners and I are going to have breakfast, and then we're going to do a conference call, and then we're going to go back to the store and do a Rah-Rah Go Team sales meeting and then we're going to be on the road" phone call.

I was not happy.

This week has been one of the worst I can remember, and all I've wanted, all week, was for it to be over. I went through my phone's history today, and not counting this afternoon (more on that in a moment) I have only spoken with my husband for slightly over AN HOUR. That's a total for the entire week, folks.

I am tired, I am pissed, and I feel abandoned.

I've talked to the man quite a bit this afternoon, though. What with all of the "Did you know that because we have Georgia AAA, if your car breaks down in NC, they can't help you?" and, "Could you look online to see if there's a Saab dealership in Charlotte I can have it towed to?" and "Yeah, I should probably have gotten the complete service before leaving town instead of just an oil change" phone calls.

So. What do y'all think the odds are that I'm going to get a "Your flowers are on the way and when I get home you should totally go for a mani-pedi!" call?

Hahahaha. I crack myself up.

Doubts

2009-04-02T10:20:00.005-04:00

It's been a tough week, here on Mom Street. Did you know that if you start performing the duties of Daddy, that no one comes along and takes over the duties of Mommy? It's true. Just because I'm taking out the trash and giving the baths and reading the bedtime stories doesn't mean that I get out of buying the groceries and cooking the food and doing the dishes and folding the laundry and scheduling the appointments and hiding Easter eggs for the class or any other of the large and small tasks that I perform around here.

I know that lots of moms have it much, much, MUCH worse than I do. Military wives, the wives of truck drivers, of professional athletes all deal with spouses who travel more than mine does. Single-moms have my enduring and utmost respect for managing to hold their families together under the strain of doing it all. But this is my blog, and my story, and this is how I'm feeling today.

Grasshopper and I are both out of our groove when JR is gone, and this time it seems harder than I remember to go it alone. JR says that I always complain this much when he travels, but I don't think so. This time I'm filled with self-doubt, and that makes everything seem worse.

I don't sleep well when I'm alone in our bed, so I've had lots of time over the past few nights to reflect on the job I'm doing as a mother, and to feel that I'm coming up short. It hasn't reached a crisis level, or anything, Grasshopper is clean, well-fed and generally happy. What is scaring me is how little patience I've had for him this week when I feel like I can't get away. He's going to be three soon, so he's a big, bouncing bundle of curiosity that just can't be sated. Usually, I love it. This week, I just want him to For the Love of Pete stop TALKING and go play in his room or the den or somewhere, anywhere that is away from me.

And so I worry that my dream, my goal, of adding another child to our family is unrealistic. That if I can't cope gracefully with ONE child on my own, what in the hell do I think I'm going to do with two? Should I take the failed adoptions that we've suffered through as a sign from the Universe to freaking Give Up Already I'm only supposed to parent one child? Should I accept that the fact that it is so hard to raise this money and go through the process of adopting again because it's not what we're meant to do?

I'm just not sure.

I know that I'm scared. I know that I'm worried that I'll let down my child, my beautiful child, if I try to take on another kid and can't perform any better than this. I know that in many ways, things would be easier if I just gave up now. The money we're saving for the adoption would go a long way towards improving our quality of life if it was spent on other things.

What I don't know is if we can be happy that way. After everything we've been through, after everything we've sacrificed, can we just give up? Will we always regret not trying one last time?

Or worse (so very much worse), will we adopt a child, another beautiful child, and come to regret that? Will I be unable to love him/her as much as I do Grasshopper? Will I let them both down because I'm lazy, or selfish, or whatever it is that's wrong with me that's making this week so hard?

I don't know if other Moms feel this way or if I'm an isolated case, but these doubts have crept insidiously into my head and I don't have then energy to push them out.

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

2009-04-01T06:40:00.009-04:00

Boy, I'm kinda tired.

Maybe I'll have some coffee. That might help.

WOW! It's strong!

Okay, feeling better, gotta go, go, go!

Justifiable

2009-03-30T09:21:00.006-04:00

JR just left for a 5 day business trip. [weep with me for a moment, won't you?]

Before he went, we gathered as a family to say our good-byes.

JR to Grasshopper: "Are you going to be a good boy for Mommy while I'm gone?"

Grasshopper: "Nope!"

JR: "You need to be a good boy!"

Grasshopper: "Why?"

JR: "Because I'll be very upset with you when I get home if you haven't been good!"

Grasshopper: "Oh, pwease!"

Me: "If he's no longer alive by Friday..."

JR: "It'll be completely justifiable, My Love."

Me: "Okay, as long as we're clear on that."

JR and I both look menacingly at Grasshopper.

Grasshopper: "Dat's silly!"

Somehow, I don't get the feeling that he's afraid for his life...

Oh dear

2009-03-26T08:08:00.007-04:00

Grasshopper was having a tough day yesterday. It was raining, he didn't have school, and Mommy needed to run ERRANDS. The horror.

He was pretty good through stops at CVS and the UPS Store, but wanted to get out of the cart, have every shiny thing that caught his eye, and most importantly "GO PLAY PARK!". Which is just not an option in the pouring rain.

By the time that we were heading to Daddy's office for lunch and to ooh and aah over the partners' new baby, I was considering an 11:30 AM martini.

When we got there JR was frantically putting out those fires that only pop up on days when you have plans to go to lunch with your wife and kid, both of whom are staring daggers at each other. (not very mature of me, I realize, but the truth none the less.)

He and I were trying to keep Grasshopper contained to his office so that he wouldn't destroy the entire corporate offices in his hyper-active madness. JR repeatedly told Grasshopper that he was not allowed to touch his desk or computer and physically removed him from the area several times. I picked him up and showed Grasshopper all of the pictures of him that JR keeps in his office, and let him flip through all of the pages of JR's wall calendar in an effort to keep him busy while JR was handling the virtual fire extinguisher.

Eventually though, my arms wore out. And I had to set Grasshopper down. Just then, JR's partner walked in with her new baby girl and JR and I were distracted. Grasshopper seized the opportunity, and the next thing we know, JR's keyboard tray is no longer attached to his desk. It is on the floor with the keyboard, mouse and a screaming Grasshopper.

This set the baby to screaming and her mother beat a hasty retreat. I ascertained that Grasshopper wasn't injured, just scared by the loud CRASH that occurred when he separated the keyboard tray from the desk and stuck him in the corner for a time-out.

The phone was ringing, JR's email was beeping, Grasshopper was screaming at the injustice of time-out and we decided that the drive-through made the most sense for lunch. I made Grasshopper apologize to Daddy for breaking his desk and then we quickly headed to the nearest McDonalds. Once we got the requisite McNuggets I headed back toward the corporate offices and when we got close enough I slowed down so that JR could bail. Then Grasshopper and I headed home for a much-anticipated (by me, of course) nap.

Later that evening, my mother called and I put Grasshopper on the phone to talk with her. "What did you do today Grasshopper?" she asks. Grasshopper smiles a very smug smile and announces proudly, "I broke Daddy's desk!"

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

2009-03-25T08:24:00.008-04:00

These are photos from the now infamous Spring Concert. I apologize for the strange cropping, but I am trying to protect the anonymity of Grasshopper's classmates and teachers.

Walking in with Teacher. Not too sure about this...

Yeah. Really NOT sure that this is a good idea.

Okay, fine. I'll hold a maraca. But you can't make me play it!

I really don't wanna do this!

Okay, maybe it's not quite so bad.

New Look and a New Award!

2009-03-24T07:02:00.011-04:00

Well, obviously, Mom Street has a new look! Many thanks to the very talented Erin (who happens to be an adoptive Mom too) at Designer Blogs for making my crazy requests into an attractive and cohesive blog. It couldn't have been easy! I hope that you love it as much as I do.

In other exciting news, my friend Christine over at She's Just Another Manic Mommy has given me the Premios Dardo Award:

"Given for recognition of cultural, ethical, literary, and personal values transmitted in the form of creative and original writing... created with the intention of promoting fraternization between bloggers, a way of showing affection and gratitude for work that adds value to the Web". Pretty impressive, huh? Christine is calling it the Smoking Typewriter Award. So that is what I too shall call it.

Rule One of accepting this prestigious award call for me to put my name in a Google image search and share the results. Much like Christine, the search results were unfit for publication on my blog (unless you want your retinas seared). I tried copying Christine by Googling the words "Unfortunately Natasha" and supplying the first ten results, but they all had to do with the recent passing of Natasha Richardson, which was indeed unfortunate. Soooo I decided to search Google Images for Mom Street and got much "cleaner" results. Who knew so many people take pictures of the street sign where their Mom lives?

Rule Two of award acceptance calls for me to pass the award along to 10 worthy bloggers who (I pick because I like them) also exemplify the spirit of the Premios Dardo. But I only have time for 5 before I have to leave for the day, so 5 it is! And so I present The Smoking Typewriter award to 5 bloggers who deserve it:

Andrea, at Blogging Mama who is guaranteed to be there when I need something great to read.

Petra, at The Wise (*Young*) Mommy who isn't afraid to share her thoughts and feelings on just about any subject. Would that I could be so brave...

Jackie at Dysfunctional Housewife. Jackie usually makes me laugh (and not always at her own expense) and I'm hoping that this award will inspire her to get back on the keyboard. She's been away too long this time!

Mama Goose, who is raising her little goslings right! I would brave the cold of Maine to have a cocktail with this Mama.

Last, but certainly not least, is Merrily at Life is But a Dream. She consistently writes great stuff, but her words about being a birthmother are so poignant and touching that I know I need a tissue handy for them.

So thank you, Christine for my award, and Erin for my new blog! I'm grateful to you both.

PS If I gave you an award and haven't emailed you yet to say so, it's 'cause Grasshopper has to get to school. I'm on it, I promise!

Silver Lining

2009-03-23T12:02:00.004-04:00

As most of you know, JR and I are on a quest to finance our final adoption attempt. It's a tough process just getting the money together to begin the tough process of adopting, but obviously, it's a situation where the potential for joy far outweighs the struggles to get there.

We have a couple of fund raising ideas working, beyond the standard Don't Buy So Much Crap, and always popular Put More Money in the High-Interest Savings Account (opened specifically for adoption funds) because you're not buying so much crap. I'm selling some of our things on Ebay, and Amazon, and I even have something more creative that I'm gestating.

Our biggest event though, is a yard sale that we've slated for the first Saturday in May. We live on a busy street (city living at it's finest!) and we've had successful yard sales in the past. This time though, we're not just selling our own junk, we're selling junk donated to us by friends and family. It has been a humbling experience to be the recipients of such generosity. To date we've been given expensive baby swings, double jogging strollers, a brand new in the box Graco stroller, a FIREPLACE and mantel (yes, really), DVD towers, a laptop, a scanner, a couple of tables and now....the contents of B's house.

I like to think that it goes without saying that we would much rather have B alive, and here, watching Grasshopper grow up, than to have all of his stuff for our yard sale. But, the fact is that B isn't here, any more, and life moves on whether or not you're ready for it.

So now we're sifting through the accumulated things that 31 years of life, and 7 years of home ownership provide. It is beyond sad, walking into B's house with no dogs barking, no music playing, no laughter. But it's also amazing, knowing that the loss of this person, who we miss so much, is going to bring us one step closer to adding a beautiful child to our family, one who will always know the role that "Uncle B" played in our bringing him or her home.

There's such poetry in life, when you open yourself to it.

Open Mouth, Insert Foot

2009-03-20T07:24:00.005-04:00

Last evening, we went to Grasshopper's Spring Concert at his preschool. To watch kids age 2-5 dance and sing songs about weather. Oy.

It was a big crowd, and when Grasshopper's teacher led his group in, I could tell that he was more than a little overwhelmed. Which is funny because at the Fall Concert, he was the kid who wouldn't stop spinning in circles and trying to perform with other classes. But I digress.

Once he saw JR and I sitting there, he ran over and attached himself to his Daddy's leg. And.would.not.let.go. His teacher had to pry him off and let him sit in her lap to get him back into the performance area (not a stage, obviously, just the center of a big room). The new music teacher led the littlest kids in a stirring rendition of "Rain, Rain Go Away" (okay, so none of them actually sang. They were stinkin' cute anyway.)

Then it was Grasshopper's turn.

He sat on the floor and wouldn't move. The other kids in his group were waving their arms almost in time to the music and following the music teacher's lead. Grasshopper sat on the floor and looked miserable. JR and I just laughed. What else could we do?

Then it was over, and time for the 3 year olds to perform. Grasshopper perked up, still in his spot in teacher's lap, and started singing along and doing their arm movements. By the time the pre-k kids were banging on drums (whose bright idea was that, anyway?) and dancing with streamers, he was on his feet and doing it too!

Once it was over, we scooped him up, told him how great he did, and took him out for ice cream. On our way out of the building, we passed the new music teacher.

"Say bye-bye to Ms N!" I told Grasshopper, "Bye-Bye!" he said giving her an excellent showing of his dimples.

"Bye Grasshopper," she said, "Did you have fun?"

Grasshopper nods. As she starts to rush off, I make the mistake of opening my mouth.

"It was fun when it was over!" is what comes out.

Ms N rushes away and JR is staring at me like he's never seen me before.

"That came out wrong, didn't it?"

"I think you need an ice cream too."

Well, there you have it

2009-03-19T07:23:00.003-04:00

Me: Why haven't I been getting the Comment Love on my blog as much lately? Have the posts just sucked?

JR: Oh, I dunno. I haven't been reading it.

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

2009-03-18T07:40:00.005-04:00

No smiles today folks. It's a weighty thing, being king.

My First Two on Tuesday (c'mon, everybody's doing it...)

2009-03-17T10:23:00.010-04:00

Okay, this is my first attempt at Blogging Mama Andrea's Two on Tuesday, which I've considered doing in the past, but this week my total lack of interesting events in my life made it the perfect week to start. So, here is the 411 from Andrea:

It's time for another addition of Two on Tuesday! This week's theme is music so I hope everyone will participate. If you're not familiar with ToT here's what we do. On Tuesday I post two questions, two thoughts, two of something.

On with today's Two -

#1 What song (or lyrics from a song) best describes your life? It can be something that fits your mood right now or just a song you like as well. Make sure to tell me why it fits you!

The song that immediately came to mind after reading Andrea's question was Galileo by the Indigo Girls. This is not necessarily my life theme song, but it is one that I've been coming back to again and again since B's suicide.

Galileo by Emily Saliers

Galileo's head was on the block
The crime was looking up for truth
And as the bombshells of my daily fears explode
I try to trace them to my youth

And then you had to bring up reincarnation
Over a couple of beers the other night
And now I'm serving time for mistakes
Made by another in another lifetime

How long till my soul gets it right
Can any human being ever reach that kind of light
I call on the resting soul of Galileo
King of night vision, king of insight

And then I think about my fear of motion
Which I never could explain
Some other fool across the ocean years ago
Must have crashed his little airplane

How long till my soul gets it right
Can any human being ever reach that kind of light
I call on the resting soul of Galileo
King of night vision, king of insight

I'm not making a joke, you know me
I take everything so seriously
If we wait for the time till all souls get it right
Then at least I know there'll be no nuclear annihilation
In my lifetime I'm still not right

I offer thanks to those before me
That's all I've got to say
cause maybe you squandered big bucks in your lifetime
Now I have to pay
But then again it feels like some sort of inspiration
To let the next life off the hook
But she'll say look what I had to overcome from my last life
I think I'll write a book

How long till my soul gets it right
Can any human being ever reach the highest light
Except for Galileo God rest his soul
(except for the resting soul of Galileo)
King of night vision, king of insight

How long
(till my soul gets it right)
[til we reach the highest light]
How long
(till my soul gets it right)
[til we reach the highest light]
How long

I guess that I'm just really hoping that his soul will get another chance to reach that highest light. If I try to say much more I'll end up in tears, and really, the lyrics say everything that needs saying.

#2 What's the best concert you've ever been to? What made it memorable? If you've never been to a concert tell me what group you'd like to see.

The best concert I've ever been to was blues legend Buddy Guy at the Atlanta Botanical Garden. It was actually the last concert that JR and I went to before becoming parents, although at the time we didn't know it! More on that later...

The Botanical Garden is obviously a gorgeous place to do just about anything, but a concert under the stars, with the lights of the Midtown skyline behind the stage was really something special. [Also, you can buy wine by the bottle, which goes a long way toward creating a memorable concert experience.]

JR and I love the blues, and Buddy Guy is one of our favorites. He has such great energy and humor that he brings to his performances. When the crowd is rocking, and singing along he grins like the Cheshire Cat and it's just so infectious!

This particular evening was in early June, and over 1,000 miles away, our son was 3 days old. I believe that he was still in the hospital, although he might have gone home with his foster family by then. The timeline of his life before he joined our family is somewhat sketchy for me.

I remember so clearly waiting at the gate in the Atlanta heat so that we could get a good spot on the lawn (we did, 4th row center) and then sitting on a blanket with JR as we sipped Pinot Grigio and watched the first stars light up the evening sky. I remember feeling so excited because our homestudy was nearly complete and the chance to become parents was so close. I remember wishing on the very first star of the evening that my baby would find his or her way into my arms.

And then the show started and Buddy Guy swept me away with his music, his showmanship, and his sense of presence. He just seems to always be truly in the moment.

Two weeks later, a phone call changed our life. We traveled to that city over 1,000 miles away and found our son waiting for us, along with the life I had wished so hard for on that sultry June night.

Take a Moment to Pray for My Friend Braja

2009-03-14T09:24:00.003-04:00

Hi everyone,

Braja is a blogger who I find delightful and who always has the most amazing photographs to share, both because she is a talented photographer and because she lives in India and therefore has fabulous scenery.

She, her husband and driver were involved in a horrific car accident on the other side of the world. Please follow this link: http://ididntgetthemessage.blogspot.com/2009/03/march-14-high-noon-prayer.html to learn more about Braja and our moment of prayer today.

Thanks!

The fine print

2009-03-13T06:29:00.000-04:00

The scene: Daddy is in the kitchen doing the dishes, Mommy and Grasshopper sit on the couch in the den, looking at a picture book [thankfully NOT Follow the Tow Truck] Mommy points to a photo of a newborn baby with black hair and serious eyes.

Mommy: Grasshopper, you used to be a little baby like this!

Grasshopper: No way!

Mommy: Yes! It wasn't very long ago that you were a little baby like this. But then you went and got big..

Grasshopper: Yeah! I big boy!

Mommy: That's right, you are a big boy. I don't know why you had to go and do that. I mean, I don't remember authorizing you to get big...

Daddy, from the kitchen: It's all in the fine print, My Love!

Mommy: Well, darn!

Grasshopper: It in da pwint Mommy.

AGAIN!

2009-03-12T07:51:00.000-04:00

Please join me while my head explodes, won't you, Dear Internets?

[I feel the need to say right off, that I know that what I am going to describe is NORMAL. I know that it is an important part of Grasshopper's development. I know that it is something that every toddler does. I indulge him, and I'm hoping that you readers will in turn indulge me.]

Grasshopper has a favorite book. It just might be the worst book ever. It's called Follow the Tow Truck. It is a TONKA book people. It doesn't even have an author. What it is does have is riveting dialogue like "The tow truck works hard day and night." [That's the sort of lonely sentence you find on each individual page] with pop-ups(!) of the tow truck fulfilling its destiny of carting around cars and motorcycles.

My son requests this book nearly every time I make the mistake of sitting down.

"Read me dis one Mommy, again!"

"Wouldn't you like to pick out another book, buddy? Maybe Blueberry's for Sal? You know ke-plink, ke-plank, ke-plunk?"

"No Mommy, dis one! Not udder one."

"How about Make Way for Ducklings?"

"No Mommy! Dis one. It my fuh-a-wit."

"Grasshopper, seriously, how about a Little Critter book? We love Little Critter, he has a plot!"

"DIS ONE!!!! RIGHT NOW!"

"Okay, okay, but only twice and then we'll pick another book."

I'm sure by now you all recognize where this is going. I have read Follow the Tow Truck twice with as much enthusiasm as I can muster [while Grasshopper recites every word along with me]. My child looks at me with excitement sparkling in his gorgeous brown eyes and demands, "Again! Mommy!"

And he is so cute, and it's really not that long of a book and so I read it, again. Our record so far is 9 readings in a row before my eyes rolled back in my head and I insisted on another book RIGHT NOW.

So he brought me Follow the Fire Truck.

I think I might have cried, just a little.

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

2009-03-11T07:33:00.007-04:00

What a difference a week makes!

[Let's all ignore the state of my "lawn" and the fact that his 3T clothes from OCTOBER are too small, shall we?]

More Conversations with Grasshopper (You Can't Make This Stuff Up)

2009-03-09T13:59:00.004-04:00

Grasshopper: Mommy?

Me: What Grasshopper?

Grasshopper: I need key.

Points to the car key hanging from a clip on my handbag

Me: Why do you need the car key?

Grasshopper points to my car in the driveway while giving me his best "Duh" look.

Grasshopper: I drive.

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday Blizzard 2009 Edition

2009-03-04T08:04:00.014-05:00

First time in the SNOW!

Making a Snow Angel

Our second trip outside; original hat & gloves too wet to be of use...

Daddy & Grasshopper build a Snowman. On a PEDESTAL cause we are fancy!

By this point I am shooting pictures through the window because my Floridian blood is too thin for this weather!

Now how do you suppose that happened?

Umm Hmm, just as I suspected...

Better living through carbs

2009-03-02T16:14:00.005-05:00

I have had an emotional hangover since our nephew's really lovely funeral service on Saturday. All of the trademark symptoms of a hangover [headache, nausea, bodyaches, irritability] but none of the fun of partying to achieve them! Yippee!

I suppose that I could have had an alcohol-induced hangover to go with it as there was actually a wake for our nephew on Saturday night after the service. [when a bar is opening a couple of hours early to accommodate your wake, you and your friends have been really good customers, is all I'm saying] but we couldn't go as we're responsible parents and all that.

So today we've been snowed in [5 inches! in Atlanta! On my daffodils and the new buds on my roses & hydrangeas dammit!] and Grasshopper and I have been outside to play [look for photos on Wordless Wednesday], had hot cocoa, and been busy making all sorts of crafty things that resulted in me gluing myself to a piece of newspaper. I am NOT crafty y'all. It's tragic. Seriously.

But... I can bake! I have been baking almost every other day since we learned of B's passing. Dark Chocolate Cherry Brownies, Marble Chocolate Chip Cake, Banana Bread, and today Irish Soda Bread. I rationalized this particular baking adventure because I'm hosting a St Patrick's Day Playdate for MOMS Club in 2 weeks and I'm determined to serve something festive. Sadly, preschoolers can't be trusted with Green Beer, so I went with Irish Soda Bread.

For my first attempt, I think it came out quite good, and JR and I just finished eating 2 slices toasted with butter and raspberry jam. Grasshopper wouldn't try it. Sigh. The extra-special bonus to this recipe is that it required 5 minutes of kneading which just might have saved Grasshopper's life today...

So it's a slow recovery, but I can feel the recovery happening nonetheless. Oh, wait, maybe that's my waistline growing...

Fogged In

2009-02-27T07:33:00.004-05:00

I am so thankful to all of you who have sent your kind thoughts and wishes for peace my family's way. If my presence has been lacking, if you haven't seen my comments popping up on your blogs, it's not because I'm not reading, it's not because I don't care.

It is because I am so fogged in by my own emotions that I can't see any others. I am wandering through my life in a daze, walking into rooms and not remembering why I'm there. Putting Grasshopper in the car to take him to school and then doubting whether it actually is a school day. Crying in the pet food aisle because I see a bag labeled Large Breed Formula and it reminds me of B's treasured Great Dane and Irish Wolf Hound.

My sister-in-law is holding up, but looks like the slightest breeze will shatter her into a million pieces. My brother-in-law is behaving stoically, but is so drawn into himself that I fear he will never hold his shoulders back again. My husband, who was 12 when his nephew was born, who was his primary babysitter when he was small, who was his roommate for 3 years when he wanted to move to the Big City at age 17 and his mother said, "Only if you live with your Uncle JR." Well, he isn't admitting to his pain yet, so there doesn't seem to be a lot that I can do to help him.

We will be burying our nephew tomorrow, and I hope after the weekend to wrestle our life back into a shape similar to the one it held before, even if there is a B-shaped hole in it.

The healing process is beginning, with an almost infinitesimal start, but it is beginning. I have to believe that.

Wordless Wednesday

2009-02-25T07:32:00.003-05:00

The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow

Thanks to my husband for this beautiful photo

Good-Bye

2009-02-23T20:55:00.005-05:00

When his phone rang as we were getting Grasshopper ready for bed, JR and I both rolled our eyes. How many times in one evening could his employees possibly interrupt us?

I wish now that it had been one of his managers calling to ask when thus-and-such delivery was expected.

Instead, it was my mother-in-law, and since it was not too many hours ago, I have yet to even begin to sort out all of the implications and ramifications of what she told us.

My husband's only nephew, his oldest sister's only child, has committed suicide.

He was thirty-one years old. The same age as me.

Thirty-one years is too short. Thirty-one years is just getting started. Thirty-one years is simply not enough time to truly LIVE.

My heart is breaking for my sister-in-law who is experiencing a pain that my mind will not even allow me to contemplate. For my mother-in-law and father-in-law who have lost their first grandchild, and until our Grasshopper came, their only grandson.

My heart is breaking for my husband, who has been estranged from his nephew for the past few years and is feeling more guilty for this loss than he wants to let on.

Mostly, my heart is breaking for a man whose thirty-one years of life were enough to convince him that he did not want any more. That all of the questions, the pain and the guilt that his passing has left were a worthy legacy if he could just not breathe any more.

I wish, as we the Left Behind always do, that there was something I could have said. Something I could have done. I wish that he could have seen the world, just for a little while, through the eyes of a child again. I know that doing so keeps me looking forward to tomorrow.

Go in peace B. I miss you now, and will likely miss you even more tomorrow.

Exile on Mom Street

The post with no title because everything I tried seemed trite

More Conversations with Grasshopper (You Can't Make This Stuff Up)

Hoping that all of your holiday wishes come true.

Is it even possible...

All Aboard the Advent Train

Still More Conversations With Grasshopper (You Can't Make This Stuff Up)

More Conversations With Grasshopper (You Can't Make This Stuff Up)

...and to think that this time last year I was telling myself, "NaBloPoMo in November 2009!"

Happy Halloween!

Is Freud in the house?

More Conversations with Grasshopper (You Can't Make This Stuff Up)

Conversaions with Grasshopper: the Deep Thoughts Series

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

Friday FAIL

Dissonance

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

Anyone have a spare ark?

3 Going On 13

September 11th, 2009

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

Skippyjon Grasshopper

Not A Good Day

Slapped

This is pretty much how it is on Mom Street

Save Me From Boy Humor

Riding the Dinosaur Train

Marketing FAIL

My life according to Tom Petty

Viral

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

HeadSpace

Summer is here and the living is....monotonous

More Conversations with Grasshopper (You Can't Make This Stuff Up)

Uncharacteristically Silent

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

Sleepless in Atlanta

Painful Process/ Priceless Result

An Adoption Day Miracle

Do Not Try This At Home

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

Adoption Day

More Conversations with Grasshopper (You Can't Make This Stuff Up)

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday 3rd Birthday Edition

In which I answer the siren song of The Mouse

Oops, my bad...

Flashback Friday: Every Woman's Worst Nightmare

They're out to get me

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday: Guest Photographer Edition

Three

In which I tried to sign my kid up for swim lessons but ended up cleaning my brains off the entrance to the public pool...

Flashback Friday: Muh Baybee

Horror-ified

Flashback Friday: The Green-Eyed Monster

Breaking Up is Hard to Do

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

Trying

Flashback Friday: word games

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

It's Finally Here!

Happy Mother's Day

Flashback Friday: that mom

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

The next move

So much more than money

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

Closure

Out of Nowhere

This Blogger will Self-Destruct in 3... 2 ...

More Conversations with Grasshopper (You Can't Make This Stuff Up)

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

Potty Training V. 3.0 Introducing.....My BIG KID!

100!!!

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

Potty Training V. 2.1 *HELP!*

Potty Training V. 2.0

Connections

Aaaand the hits just keep on comin'

I hate you and your law Murphy.

Potty Training V. 2.1 HELP!