It's Okay If It Is My Way

I don't know about you but the thought of tanks coming to get me and my children gives me pause.


It has been very interesting to me the lack of public outcry regarding the raid on the polygamist YFZ Ranch in Texas. I mean just three weeks ago many fundamentalist religious leaders were outraged that California had deemed home schooling "illegal" according to the religious pundants. Yet, no one anywhere is crying out against the state of Texas on religious grounds for separating families and removing over 400 children from the place that they call home. I guess as long as it is "them" meaning those who are wrong in their religious beliefs vs. "us" those whose spiritual ideals are correct then it is okay to feed "them" to the wolves and not wave the Constitution in every one's face.

Now don't think for a minute that I agree that marrying off 13 year old girls to lecherous 50 year old men is fine and dandy. Nor do I believe that limiting exposure to the outside world is in the best interests of women and children in being able to develop that thing we call "free will." I can't say that I believe that having 50 children is a good thing either or that marrying one's cousin will improve the species in any lasting and good way. Hours of chores a day, well it seems a little excessive but hey we are all suppose to be trained to be good capitalists here in the good old USofA and we know the people at the YFZ Ranch were because our government awarded contracts to them. However, I can also say that I do not believe many tenants of many "main line" churches are good for society or the individual either but that doesn't make me want to have the state step in and rip children from their parents.

When I think of the damage that is being done to these kids by being put into and exposed to the foster care system I question what is worse...staying with what you know and those who love you or leaving to experience things that you should never have to be exposed to. Having been a foster parent I have seen the damage that is done to children who become victims of the system that was "suppose" to protect them and it is not pretty. Having children with RAD I know what ripping a child from those they love can do to the quality of quantity of their future relationships.

And so I ponder the unanswerable questions of what is better (or worse) known vs. unknown and why the conservative religious movement abandons some of its most conservative when the views are not "their" own. I guess it boils down to not wanting to keep company with those who are "different" than us or wanting to be sure we are on the "right" team. Or perhaps it is simply an economic issue for the leaders of the Christian Right. All I know is that the people paying the highest price will once again be the children and they are the ones who can least afford it.

Don't Eat What My Children Give You

This has been a hard couple of weeks. We are getting ready to move (again) and my house is a disaster. Truly. I have mopped once in an entire week, cleaned the toilets two weeks ago, the sinks over a week ago. Trust me it is a mess.

So yesterday I give all the kids a popsicle. Five minutes later Kullen, while nonchalantely licking his popsicle, says "I dropped my popsicle in the toilet mom but don't worry I rinsed it off." I would like to say that in the 2.3 seconds it took for me to process this tidbit of information...my first thought was for my son but I confess that it wasn't. Instead I feverishly racked my brain trying to remember if I had just taken a lick from that same popsicle. Afterall, I absentmindedly graze from my kids plates all day and don't recall doing it just seconds later. Hence...the weight issue. After deciding the odds against me were 60% which in this household are considered favorable; I quickly rise from my seat and tell Kullen "Well bud lets get you a new popsicle."

On the way to the refridgerator I proceed to tell him why eating popsicles that have fallen in the toilet is not a good idea. Later I even find our small microscope to show him what germs look like. Anotherwords, I do the Good Mommy Act...and act is what it is. For what I really want to say is....

Son, you will be six this week and you mean to tell me that I have
never gone over rule number 548 which says "What goes in the toilet
STAYS IN THE TOILET." Or rule 673 which says "If you drop it don't eat
it" Or rule 837.2 "You never eat what has been where your butt has been
planted" or any variant of the above. I mean Come On. For crying out LOUD!!

Oh when Karson was about four he went into one of the outhouse toilets in the national park. He came out with a lollipop that he did not go in with. When I asked him where he got th lollipop he said "I found it on the floor next to the toilet."

There is a lesson to all of this. If my kids ever offer you something to eat ...don't take it! I am going to stick to this now and forever...bet I lose 10 pounds in a week!

A Little April Fools

I decided to play a little spur of the moment April Fools joke on a friend.

clddbdrkkkk: Soy cheese?
clddbdrkkkk: Gross
Squirrelchaser30: no, they don't do well with soy
clddbdrkkkk: Rice cheese?
Squirrelchaser30: tummy issues
clddbdrkkkk: Goat milk cheese?
Squirrelchaser30: ya, i buy them rice cheese stuff, but mostly we
just avoid it
Squirrelchaser30: and alex won't drink rice milk
clddbdrkkkk: How about pig cheese?
Squirrelchaser30: he hates it
Squirrelchaser30: PIG?
clddbdrkkkk: Or ferret cheese?
Squirrelchaser30: pigs make cheese???
Squirrelchaser30: shutup
Squirrelchaser30: haha
Squirrelchaser30: you had me going for a minute
Squirrelchaser30: i was like...crap
clddbdrkkkk: What are you talking about I had you going...I am dead
serious
clddbdrkkkk: Look it up
Squirrelchaser30: pig cheese????
clddbdrkkkk: Yes
Squirrelchaser30: omg
Squirrelchaser30: barf
Squirrelchaser30: i don't want anything that comes from a pigs teat
clddbdrkkkk: Well I think ferret would be better
Squirrelchaser30: shutup
Squirrelchaser30: there is no ferret cheese
Squirrelchaser30: i'm not that stupid
clddbdrkkkk: Yes there is!!!! Look it up!!!!
Squirrelchaser30: no frigin way
Squirrelchaser30: you stop
clddbdrkkkk: Are you looking it up!
clddbdrkkkk: Do it!
Squirrelchaser30: ok i will
clddbdrkkkk: See I told you!!!!
Squirrelchaser30: there is NOTHING here about ferret cheese
clddbdrkkkk: Bullshit
clddbdrkkkk: Just a second I will find the link
clddbdrkkkk: www.ferretcheese.com
Squirrelchaser30: that doesn't register
Squirrelchaser30: cheryl!
Squirrelchaser30: you stop trying to make a fool out of me
clddbdrkkkk: Doesn't take much
clddbdrkkkk: Easter Bunny cheese might be good too
Squirrelchaser30: haha
clddbdrkkkk: April Fools you big fool
Squirrelchaser30: ur an ass
Squirrelchaser30: HAHAHA
Squirrelchaser30: i forgot it was april fools
Squirrelchaser30: that's a good one
Squirrelchaser30: you ass
Squirrelchaser30: i was like, no way...but then again it is cheryl
Squirrelchaser30: so anything is possible
clddbdrkkkk: Yep can hardly wait to tell the gotcha girls this one
Squirrelchaser30: omg...you rat

Forrest Gump Lives Here

Today I took the boys to play their first game. Baseball is a confusing sport especially when you are six. Both boys are able to whack the ball off of the T. Unfortunately, Kullen does not realize you must stay on first base once you get there or you are tagged out.

After the first quarter of the first inning Karson is begging me to quit. "I hate baseball," he says. I tell him he must discuss it with his sports loving Dad. I think he would like to be involved in a more sedate sport...something like marathon television watching and potato chip dipping.

So Karson is at bat for the second time. WHACK the ball flies and he makes it to first base. The next kid comes up...WHACK. THe first base coach yells, "Run, Karson, Run." Karson leaves the base, charging hard...into the outfield to help retrieve the ball his teammate just hit. He is tagged out by the opposing team and doesn't understand this turn of event because afterall he was only helping. If only Karson's rules were the rules by which we lived our lives. Things would be much simpler, everyone would be much happier and Peace On Earth would not just be a slogan.

And We Question Where High Blood Pressure Comes From

I had to call Kylee on the telephone today to talk to her. Of course she had to bring up the fact that she would not be living in the dorms at college. The conversation went kind of like this.

She: "Okay I didn't want to tell you this way but I can't live in the
dorms because R is coming to the United States. We plan to get married after I graduate from high school"

Me...thinking to myself....THE HELL YOU ARE
Me...thinking to myself (in a very sterotypical fashion I might add)...Thank goodness he is from South America and a machismo culture where he will most likely forget about her the minute she leaves.
Me...thinking to myself...THE HELL YOU ARE

Me to her: "Well honey that is going to be difficult. I doubt the
United States will let him in."

She: " I have been investigating it. We will be married. He can come on a fiance visa."

Me...thinking...thank GOD the US is cracking down on immigration at least in this case. I just might have to become a Republican.

Me to Her: I doubt that the US will let R in because 1. You are not
educated and cannot support him 2. He is not educated and cannot
support himself 3. He is in a band (okaY i did not say it but I did
think it) 4. He doesn't have lots of money to come here with.
Therefore due to #1, 2, and 4 it is doubtful he can come here."

Me...thinking ....thank goodness for the Patriot Act. Here is one case where it just might come in handy.

She: "I am in a bad mood and don't want to talk anymore."

Me...thinking...don't even ask us to sponsor R. EVER. (which she does a day later)

Me...thinking...why do we have girls anyway?

Me...thinking...I was ripped off during the in vitro process when I
told the doctor that he was to eliminate teenage attitude and the
problems associated with it.

Me...thinking again in sterotypical fashion for which I beg forgiveness...thank goodness he lives in a machismo country and will probably forget her within 10 minutes of her getting on the
plane.

Me...thinking...Now I know why some animals eat their young. It is so much easier than raising them!

Why?

We were out at dinner the other evening celebrating Kullen's five years in our family.

As we are eating Karson says,"MacKenzie says that Chinese people are ugly and that I am Chinese."

"What did you say?"

"I told her that I was Korean, not Chinese," said Karson.

So how do you explain to a six year old that to this little white girl thinks that all Asians look alike no matter if they are Korean, Thai, Indonesian, Chinese or Vietnamese. That it will not matter to her that each Asian nation and people have their own rich culture of food, stories, dress, history and that are as individual and unique as each person at the school. How do you explain to a young child that he will forever be seen as a foreigner in the land of opportunity and that when people ask where he is from they aren't asking if he is from Cleveland? How do you explain that soon he will be getting questions about where his "real" parents are and that for some reason perfect strangers will always question our family relationship with the "are they related line", planting seeds of doubt about our family in his young mind? How do I explain to him that what I learned was learned based on white privilege and that he will get all that entails when he is with me but that it will disappear when he is not? How to I explain to him that when he is older and driving to keep his hands visible at all times if he is pulled over and not to make any sudden moves? How do I explain to him that people will make assumptions about him like he loves fish and is good at math based on his skin color alone? How do I explain to him that certain words like "chink" are meant to hurt him and "keep him in his place"? Will he believe it when I tell him people like that are the ones with the problem or will he internalize it and grow up not liking himself? And why is it at this date and time these are STILL things that have to be explained to a young boy whose mind has yet to be polluted by others...until the other day.

All About Me... But Should It Be?

What is it about Americans? Why does there seem to be this national obsession for constant change and wanting more? What ever happened to being happy with what you have? Finding contentment in what is instead of what isn't?

Over the years I have been guilty of the ME syndrome and have known many others who have fallen victim to its hold. So we work harder, get more degrees, and new toys in a false attempt to make ourselves feel better. But all of this comes with a price which is fine if you are single for you are paying the price alone. But what about when you have children?

Interestingly, it seems to me that Americans seem to convientely forget the fact that after you have children it isn't about ME anymore, it is about THEM. That sometimes you have to put dreams on the shelf for a little while, that work/relationships/recreation won't always be what we imagined and that personal sacrifice is called for when you become parents. Face it, you no longer can expect a perfect life or to get your way all the time. That kind of attitude is fine when you are single but has no place when you are married with children.

Unfortunately the ME in all of us tends to forget that there will always be a better job with better pay, a more understanding/sexy/loving person, and one more mountain left to climb but at what price? Our children didn't ask us to improve ME they only ask for us to create love and stability for THEM by letting go of the ME WANT syndrome.

Now don't get me wrong, I am not talking about situations where there is abuse in a relationship or where a single mother wants to go from working at McDonalds to becoming a nurse. What I am talking about are all the parents who have the "American Dream" but still keep searching for something better on the backs of their kids. It isn't about, "What can I do for you?" Instead it has become "I'm dissatisfied/I need something more/Life isn't exciting enough/ and Where did the real ME go?" When will people just realize that when you become a parent you give up ME for something better and more important. And that is US. The US that was created the minute you signed up for parenthood.

That is why I am encouraging my kids to delay parenthood until they have gone to college or obtained the material things they want from life. Until they have explored the peaks and valleys that are what we call LIFE and truly understand that there are ebbs and flows throughout our lifetime but that we don't just add more things or leave everything behind when those difficult times hit. The phrase 'Seek And Ye Shall Find' should be the motto of the young hip and single. Not the slogan of the parent.

Think About It

It has occurred to me that people put their time and effort into those people/ things that they treasure and those people/things that bring meaning to their lives. Where have you been putting your time and what message is it sending to those around you?

Omma vs. Mom

There is a debate going on in regards to a blog by an adoptee who says that adoptive parents wearing things like Omma pendants are appropraiting something that they shouldn't. That adoptive parents by taking on these names are erasing something that does not rightfully belong to them. Interesting concept.

So I have been thinking about this.

I do wonder if part of the issue for the adoptee has to do with loss and not giving up on seeing their Omma and Appa again. If you suspected that your birth parents were still alive then it might seem disrespectful like your a-parents were trying to take their places. Like why isn't "Mom" and "Dad" good enough for them. The only thing I can relate it to is this:

If my husband were to die and two years later I married again I am not so sure that my children would appreciate being forced to call the new guy "Dad" For them, "Dad" would have a very specific meaning, the man they grew up with, who read to them every night, the man that the world knew as "Dave" and they knew as "Dad." The man who holds the title of "Dad" in their hearts. And its only when and if they CHOSE to give that title to someone else would it be right. Not just because I wanted them to.

Perhaps for some adoptees the word "Appa" or "omma" has that special place in their heart.The place that gives them hope that someday they will be able to meet the person/s who created and birthed them. The place that is reserved for their Korean birthparents. Perhaps those are the words that they have longed to say the first time they touch their first mothers hair, or feel her warm hand in theirs when in Korea and it would only seem right to use those Korean terms of endearment like "Omma". If my kids were meeting their first mother in Korea they certainly wouldn't call her "mom" because it wouldn't have meaning to her or a shared sense of a cultural meaning plus it would be their term of endearment for me.

Today is Kylee's 17th birthday. It seems so strange to have someone who was the main focus of your life 17 years ago not here to celebrate that wonderous day. I miss her. I want to hug her and tell her how much I love her. And then this happened:

Kylee and I were IMing each other when she says," Mom I want to have a serious discussion with you."

Of course with words like this coming from you 17 yo's typewriter your mind begins to fly wildly. She pregnant...she was hurt...she's in love...she never wants to come home...and a host of other absurdities crammed into the old gray matter.

And then she types, "I just wanted you to know that when I am 18 and if you have saved a little money, if anything were to happen to you and Dad I want to take the kids."

And I started bawling. Not because her offer is necessarily a possibility but because she would offer knowing all the challenges that our special needs children face in the years to come. And because I have secretly wondered at times if the adoption of our younger children had perhaps made Kylee feel left out or at the bottom of the pile. That somehow her needs became secondary to theirs.

But maybe I was bawling because that is the minute that I realized my daughter had matured and grown up. That was the moment I realized that she was beginning to think like an adult, love like a parent and grow into a person whose concern about others that she loves outweighs her immediate concern about herself.

And so on the day I so desperately wished I could hug my girl and give her a gift, she turned the tables on me and gave me the best present ever. A one sentence treasure that came from her heart. And sometimes it just doesn't get any better than that!