You live and learn. At any rate, you live. ~Douglas Adams
Posts not written by me (Ben)
Four weeks into summer and six weeks until school begins again for my daughters, I hear those words repeated every day. Several times a day, as a matter of fact. My daughters woefully do chores. as I request. to attempt to alleviate their professed boredom. Yet I keep hearing them say it. Grrrr…
My kids are driving me crazy. In a very. fast. car.
Did I mention that Las Vegas is T-minus:Â Three Days and a few minutes?
Being an anonymous poster allows you to post things you’d never post on your own blog: like how much of a complete idiot you are. Erin posted a lovely post about needing her sheets changed…heh…and it reminded me of something that happened a month or so ago.
Man: Poison Control, how can I help you?
Me: Umm…hi…my daughter sort of ingested something that I’m not sure she should have and I’m wondering if she’s going to drop dead or just be sick or what…
Man: Okay, what exactly did she take?
Me: Ummmmm…..lube….
Man: You mean like lubrication for doors and cars? Motor oil or similar?
Me: Ummm….more like…personal…..lubrication…
Man: You mean like a douche?
Me: No, I mean like….ummm…KY.
It was at this point that the man on the other end told me to hold for a moment. After two minutes of holding and watching my daughter to make sure she didn’t drop into seizures, he came back on the line.
Man: Okay ma’m (doesn’t that make you feel old? I know it’s just polite, but it makes me feel extremely ancient) I just double-checked with my supervisor because we didn’t have that information immediately available (what, are we the only idiots who leave the KY right next to the bed for easy access?) but we believe she’ll just have some slight diarrhea and that should be all.
The underlying tone of his voice was this: Ma’m…don’t be an idiot and leave your sexual toys or their lubrication out when you have children. We know your son found your vibrator and thought it was a spaceship, but now the KY incident is too much and has forced us to call DCF on you.
He REALLY said: Have a nice day.
Heroes.  Kids watch “caped” heroes on television all the time.  Even as a adults we have our heroes and idols that we love to feel attached to or to look up to.  But not all heroes wear capes.
When you look at the Anatomy of an Adoption, it is clear that it takes some extraordinary people to handle the maze of legal and paper borne obstacles to make this happen.  Even those willing to do the paperwork, in far too many cases, will only accept a newborn for adoption.  Much is also often made of the people that go to third world countries to rescue children from third world countries ( i.e. Angelina Jolie), but again most of these children are newborns, or at least very young infants.
As any parent knows all too well, children don’t come with an instruction manual.  We depend on a learn as you go process, and grow into the role as parents as our children mature.  The simple fact is that when you adopt a child that is older, they are starting with a leg up on the parents, not to mention the other physical and emotional baggage that may already come with a child that is not a newborn/infant.  It takes special people to be able handle all these circumstances, people that always have th the”>e best interest of the child at heart, even when it breaks their own. People that see children and not “black” and “white” children.
Far too many children get lost in the system in this country, because at times it seems that the children that are in foster care are like puppies at the pound.  The older you get, the less likely it is that somebody wants to take you home.  But these are not puppies, they are children, children who need love.  And for 3 lucky children a certain superhero (and his wife of course), have flown in to save the day.  True heroes.  No Cape necessary.
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Tags: adoption
My seven year old climbed into bed with me this morning (DH was showering for work), and told me I smelled funny.Â
“Well, sweetie,” I told my daughter, “I have not showered yet this morning.”Â
 ”No, Mommy. You smell like you and Daddy wet the bed last night!”Â
 Me: *blink, blink*Â
My daughter throws back the covers and points to a wet spot in the sheets: “You DID have an accident last night!” She bends over and sniffs at the wetness. “But it doesn’t smell like pee pee.”
Me: *blink, blink*
Then she hops off the bed, tells me to wash the sheets today, and runs off to finish watching The Fox and the Hound.
WHEW! I dodged a bullet there, didn’t I?