ride

All it took today was a long ride. My 15 year old was amping up to a nasty rage because I was done buying his school clothes so the fun was over. He was tired and in need of more excitement/stimulation/attention. Five minutes later, on our way to an appointment, he was asleep! Praise was due and given. I motioned for my other kids to shhh and we drove north as far as time would allow. We saw cool shadows on the mountains from the bright white, puffy clouds in the bright blue sky. We saw baby palms propped up straight throughout a field. We saw desert-themed mosaics created with rocks on the side of hills. We enjoyed the quiet. When we doubled back and drove to our appointment, he stayed asleep. After parking, I rewarded my littles for their cooperation by making them laugh. I played little tricks on the sleeping teenager like touching his tooth and tickling his nostril. He woke up during that one. We had a good laugh. Later, he got me back by poking my nose with his jagged-nailed finger. I said "Dude, your hand stinks! Like burgers and butt!"

I'm not kidding.

I know some of you can totally relate.

joy

Yesterday we had a long overdue visit with my littles' previous family. It's been a year since the last visit, but my kids roots have grown strong in my family. I knew that a visit with birth family members would not uproot our strong bond. We met at a fast food restaurant where the kids could play and the adults could talk. As I told them our adoption had been finalized, through tears of joy, I tried to thank them for sharing the children with me. I was met with tears that did not seem joyful, but full of pain and loss. They assured me that they are grateful that the adoption has happened and the kids are in a permanent home. I held their hands, hoping to infer that I understand their pain and we are still strongly connected through my three littles.

fifteen

Today, B is 15. As my girls would say, "O. M. G!"

There is alot of stress here on holidays and birthdays. There's the PTSD in me plus the high expectations of my son, which lead to meltdowns when "his day" doesn't match the big ideas in his head. He then sees the scaled down, realistic version of a birthday celebration as some sort of punishment and he acts out.

I dread special days. I love routine, scheduled, structured days. So do my kids.

So, OMG, I am going to bake a cake and make a special breakfast (second breakfast for most of us) and plaster a hopeful smile on my face.

I'd really like this to be a routine, structured day with lots of little nice surprises.

_____

I really should write the funny things my kids say here. One example from this morning:

JJ: "Remember the last time we made a cake and we were just googling around?" I think he meant fooling around... Communicating well doesn't come easily to most of my children, but it sure is funny!

fire

A few years ago, I took an intensive course, EMT104, passed the national exam, and became a certified EMT-Basic. Another item crossed off my bucket list. I didn't have the time or resources (such as babysitting and time off work) to become a Paramedic or to get a part time job as an EMT. I got a very part time volunteer job in an emergency room, but I was needed at home and had to quit in my second week.

Fortunately, during my coursework and for a while after getting certified, I rode along with Station 17 - B shift of the Phoenix Fire Department. In this city, fire fighters are EMTs and Paramedics, and each station has fire trucks and ambulances. I LOVE those guys, and their jobs, and their comraderie. I left a piece of me there at that station when I had to stop 'working' there. While I was with them, we mostly did medical calls, such as diabetes, car accidents, stomach pains, heart issues, and severe allergic reactions. Once we responded to a gas leak but I was told to stay in the truck. Man! You should see how much faster and more excitedly those guys scramble when there is a possible fire call. It's what they live for. I really liked meal times with them. They all contributed to meals in ways they were good at, and the food was always delicious, healthy, and mountainous. I brought in groceries one Sunday morning and cooked them a huge Southern meal with ham, biscuits and gravy, scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, the works...plus fruit salad and muffins for an appetizer just in case they got a call while I was busy working the gravy. Scott said "You sure are puttin' a lot of love in that gravy!" I'll never forget that.

There was a once-in-a-lifetime trip to a burned up mansion. The fire had happened two days prior. We weren't busy so we hopped in the truck to visit, I think because the entire fire department was talking about it. When we got there I realized why. Even my untrained eye could see the fire was set up. There were hip-high stacks of burned phone books in several places of the main room. I listened intently to the conversations of the fire fighters and the fire inspectors, and met the arson dog, Sadie. I learned alot that day. My untrained lungs and eyes burned for days afterwards from the ash and burned air smell.

Yesterday, this story was in the news! I hope the link works. This man was so far off the path of what is right and good and had no idea how to pull himself back up to the surface. I shuddered knowing that I had been at the scene of the crime.

reading

In particularly stressful times, I hide my face in a book. It is soothing to fill my head with other people's words and ideas rather than listen to the ones streaming (sometimes screaming) through my mind. Self-medication, of a non-dangerous type.

I have done a lot of reading this summer.

I already mentioned a few books in an earlier post, two by Amy Reed ( Clean and Beautiful ) and four by Lisa McMann ( Wake, Fade, Gone, and Dead To You ). I have since read Dogtag Summer by Elizabeth Partridge, which is a good story about international adoption and PTSD from the point of view of the adopted daughter. I have also enjoyed Chore Wh*re, by Heather Howard, about the experiences of an assistant to celebrities in Hollywood. I laughed out loud at every page. I recommend that book to anyone who needs an escape and a view of a radically different lifestyle. I am forgetting one more book...

I am halfway through A Boy Should Know How to Tie a Tie by THE Antwone Fisher, of the awesome movie about a foster child who grew older, joined the Navy, then grew up. I am also halfway through The Stranger, by Albert Camus, about a man who has little emotion or connection to people, and functions mostly to meet his physical needs which drive him (such as being hot, tired, hungry). Sound familiar? Well, he ended up in jail. Again, too familiar. I was just walking through the stacks at the library and the odd black and white cover of this book caught my eye. This is how I find most of my books, just as we Christians close our eyes, flip through the Bible and let God guide our pointer finger to the verse we need to hear that day. Other than that, when I read a great book, I tend to read everything else the author has written. I especially like personal accounts, biographies and autobiographies, and historical fiction and non-fiction. Anything that has really happened, or could have really happened, I enjoy reading. I do not enjoy science fiction or silly fluffy stories.

I have also spent a good amount of my free time reading blogs this summer. I check Cindy Bodie's, Claudia Fletcher's, and Linda Up North's almost daily. I have linked from Cindy's to Amanda's, and am enjoying her story of raising 21 children in such a loving, Christ-inspired way.

Look at me using the tool bar and inserting links!