December 2007

I was supposed to write about it last week but I completely forgot. I didn’t even realize that Friday had come and gone until Saturday evening and that, my friends, is a great example of the disorder and the effect is has on my life.

Zow! This could very easily have been written by me a few years ago.. The only difference is that I “align” myself with coping mechanisms, reminders (Google, Coffee, post-it notes) and routines instead of medication. And the only reason I’m no longer medicated is because I fear the effects of the drugs long-term and have the luxury of being somewhat scattered and disorganized on a day-to-day basis.

Today is The Big Day.

Moving Day.

Forever Family Day.

No One Gets Any Sleep Anymore Day.

The Boys are being placed with us as foster kids, initially, while the agency works to obtain “Records of Live Birth” for the two younger boys. Until those are found, they cannot be adopted (by anyone, anywhere).

This process could take a few days, a few weeks or a few months, depending on how many people are currently on Winter Holiday break at the government office that handles these records.

We are not in any rush.

Really, it just means that we have to follow certain regulations (as we would if we were ‘regular foster parents’) including such highlights as consulting their worker before taking them to another country, piercing their tongues or changing all three of their names to “Coffee Jr.“.

Good thing we don’t have any of those on our “To Do” list for the near future.

Once The Boys are living here, later today!, we’ll consider them 100% OUR KIDS. Doesn’t matter what the paperwork says – that’s just a formality. OUR KIDS.

This morning The Boys’ foster dad dropped off a bunch of boxes and bags of clothes and toys and assorted doo-dads. We had a nice little chat about assorted kid-related stuff, future plans, etc. I know I’ve already said this, but they’re really amazing foster parents.

Coffee took care of a few more “move this to here and that to there” tasks before he headed off to work. I’m picking him up at 3pm and we’ll head down to pick up The Boys for 3:30.

PICK UP THE BOYS!

*ahem*

I’m alternating between total, complete and utter elation at the idea of them moving in and, as you can imagine, a lingering feeling of “ohmygodwe’reinsane“. I suspect I’ll alternate between those two emotions for a while as we get settled and set our routines and rules and figure everything out as a family.

The first while is usually the “honeymoon” stage where The Boys are on their best behaviour. Ditto for me and Coffee. I intend to enjoy that honeymoon stage as much as humanly possible.

Then we’ll get into the “testing” stage where, in theory, The Boys will test limits and test patience and test that really do want to keep them forever even when they’re acting like jerks. I’m quite curious to see how that’ll go, really. The testing behaviour is, generally speaking, a really good sign that The Boys are trusting us more.

Then we’ll be in full-on family mode where we’re all ourselves, all the time, and we learn to deal with each other as normal human beings. This part will be the best of all.

3:30 today, man. ZOW!

In an email to WNET, I described my hypervigilance when it pertains to The Boys.

When we’re out in public I must know, at all times, where each one of them is and what they’re doing. I am paranoid about them running off, being kidnapped, getting hurt or accidentally knocking over something we cannot afford to purchase.

K assured me that the eyes in the back of my head will grow in shortly. I am not sure I will survive that long.

We took The Boys to the mall last night (stop laughing like that!) to pick out a temporary Christmas tree (we’ve unanimously decided to buy a purple one for next year) and to grab one ornament each with which to decorate said tree.

It was totally like herding cats. Shoveling water. Pick your own analogy – it was insane.

We had taken three steps into the mall when one kid decided to run in one direction while simultaneously trying to remove his own shirt.. for no discernible reason.

Then he threw a complete fit about being “corralled” and I had to leave Coffee with him while I took the other two to look at stuff in another section.

Every time I had one kid under control and in sight, another would go whipping by me at mach speed shouting something about.. something.

Their voice would fade off into the distance as they ran past me like a bad roadrunner cartoon so it sort of sounded like, “IF I WANT TO ……. whispering……. I CAN, RIGHT? BECAUSE……. whispering ….. NOT ILLEGAL, RIGHT?”

I’d have a kid holding one ornament and another would be swinging a hand full of fragile glass items while telling me a story that involved flailing his arms around like a windmill and making me wince a lot.

Middle One is the voice of consumerism at its finest. Everything he saw, everything he got near, everything he could reach was noted with, “Can I have this? Will you buy me this? Can I have it for Christmas? Can I have it for my birthday? I REALLY WANT THIS.” to such an extent that I almost didn’t have to turn my head to look before saying, “No.”

Little One ordered a burger for dinner but neglected to mention that he does not like pickles, ketchup, mayo, lettuce, tomatos or any of the other things one puts on a burger.

Coffee has now learned how to “wash” the meat and buns with a napkin – and now we know that he only likes cheese and bacon on a burger. (This is another weird part of adoption – we are still learning what they like and don’t like.)

Coffee noticed a woman mindlessly strolling through the store with a collection of six children running circles around her and up and down the aisles. She had absolutely no concern for where they were or what they were doing – in fact, she was staring sort of blankly ahead. I now fully understand that mentality.

Six kids = a couple of spares = peace of mind. No?

By the time we dropped the kids back at the foster parents’ house, I was mentally exhausted.

We forged on to the mall, sans kids, to purchase Christmas present for the young hooligans. And that’s where I learned how quickly one can go through a million dollars when the kids’ lists are almost fully electronics-related. From DS games to Wii games to two more controllers to.. good lord.

Anyone want to buy a kidney? It’s not like I’ll have time to process waste materials through my body, anyway, and we could use the cash.

Kids. Yeeeesh!

“I think Friday is going to be one of the BEST days of my ENTIRE LIFE!” — Oldest One

The Boys are officially moving in with us on Friday. They’re going to start packing stuff up (clothes, toys, books) and, on Friday while they’re at school, Foster Dad is going to drive it all up here.

Then he’ll bring The Boys when they get home from school.

Then we are keeping them. FOREVER.

That last part is hard to wrap my head around. It all seems.. a little too easy.

I know, I know. Wasn’t I complaining a while ago about how much work adoption is?

But the work was all in the beginning, really, when we went through the homestudy and interviews and the government-mandated classes and the reference checks and the paperwork and the criminal background checks and Coffee’s fingerprinting and FBI clearances and..

It’s still kind of surreal to consider The Boys living here permanently. Forever. No matter what. Always. Completely.

They’re going to be OUR Boys.

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There are many foods I like – many! – but only one food in the entire world that I will, given the chance, eat until I barf (and STILL not regret it).

That food is Nanaimo Bars.

I am powerless when faced with a plate, pan or box of them. I don’t care if they’re crappy quality or gloriously homemade – just hand them over and no one will get hurt (much).

As a result of my known addiction, I do not make them. I do not buy them. I try to avoid LOOKING at them.

Earlier this season, having successfully avoided them for many months, I thought I had it all under control. I decided to make some, ostensibly for giving to friends, but I ate them instead. I think Coffee got two before I ate the rest in a haze of sugary bliss over the course of three or four days. (And that, my friends, is about as ‘self-controlled’ as I’m capable around them.)

In the morning, on waking, I’d immediately begin to think about them. How many were left? Did we have the ingredients to make more? Could I eat them instead of something with vitamins and minerals?

Tonight we’re going to The Boys’ school for a bake sale. I expect to spend a stupid amount of money buying crappy cookies that some random person made – or bought and plated to look like homemade – but I am secretly hoping tonight will allow me to relax yet again into a stupor of Nanaimo Bar’d glee. A sugar coma, really.

I am already jonesin’ for a fix here – anxiously anticipating a welling-up of happiness as I hand over my $20, pick up the plate and run off to a corner of the gym to devour them. Then I shall, in the vernacular of the drug world, get the nods and smile gently at everyone around me.

I am never as filled with goodwill toward mankind as I am when I have a belly full of sugar.

Do people consider a secondhand gift “tacky” because they think it is a reflection on the giver (or the giftee)? If I went down to the thrift store tomorrow and bought you what I consider an awesome present, but it was only $4, would that make you, as a human, any less valuable? Would you be any less loved or thought after because that widget did not come in a shiny, new, cardboard box with a shiny, new pricetag?

All year long, we are happy for each other when we get good deals. Way to lower the price on that house! That dress was on sale? I love it! Two for one? Let’s go! But, it seems that the good deals should stop when it comes to giving a present to someone else.

Read the whole blog post here.

I despise the idea of buying something simply because it’s The Season to buy things. I know I’ve talked about it in the past – several times – but unless I’m truly inspired and think, “Hey, this would be EXCELLENT for so-and-so!” I just can’t get excited about wandering around the mall looking for something that might be a reasonably okay gift.

This is why I don’t buy gifts for people at Christmas. I think gifts should be gifts and not obligatory exchanges of commercial goods. And those gifts, as far as I’m concerned, can come from anywhere. Online shopping, the corner of my basement, the store on the corner, or, yes, the mall.

It really is the thought that counts and not the price.

Some of my most treasured items are odd little knicknacks purchased at the dollar store, a garage sale, or given to me by friends who no longer need them. And some of the coolest stuff can be found on Craigslist, Freecycle or Kijiji – used and cheap and no longer needed by their current owners.

There’s a time and place for buying stuff brand-new – socks and underpants, say, or a new computer that has the right processor for your software. But most of the time, we could easily swap stuff with other people. Use things up. Wear things out. THEN buy new.

I’m hoping I can convince the kids, over time, to think similarly. I don’t need a pair of brand-spankin’ new slippers that I’ll never wear, but if you can find me a handmade granny-square afghan at Value Village, in great shape, I’ll totally love you forever.

Dear Google Reader:

Thanks for letting me know that I’m a slacker.

Love,
Violet.

From your 305 subscriptions, over the last 30 days you read 9,954 items, starred 0 items, shared 10 items, and emailed 0 items.

Since we weren’t expecting The Boys to stay over for the weekend – and had, in fact, intended to spend that time organizing things and moving stuff around – the house is currently a gigantic disaster zone of boxes, stacks o’ stuff, and random items that need to be moved elsewhere before they’re back with us next weekend.

The first thing I managed to tackle today was moving my desktop machine (Nemesis) out of the living room and getting it set up in our downstairs office where it’s supposed to reside. I’ll continue to use my Eee (Weebey) upstairs for little things since it’s easy to move out of the way and doesn’t have 40,000 peripherals attached to it (scanner, printer, photo printer, camera..)

Having my computer set up and useable is more important to me than anything else in the realm of “organizing”, if I’m being honest. I feel much less anxious when I have a spot that I can sit down, write a blog entry, or read someone else’s blog for 5 minutes. Even if that spot is currently wedged between a stack of flannel sheets and a whole lot of scrap paper.

I’m also spending some time today unsubscribing from a lot of my RSS feeds – particularly those that I had a tendency to “skip” anyway. This morning I had (literally) thousands of feeds begging me to read them and, let’s be honest, I’m never going to have that much time on my hands again. I’m keeping all my parenting-related blogs, of course, and the blogs of my friends, too.

In other words, what I’m working on right now is getting everything organized – online and off. With any luck I can make a dent in stuff today, Coffee can move the heavier stuff tonight and tomorrow (and every other day after work that we’re not seeing The Boys) and by the time next weekend arrives we’ll be set up in a way that allows The Boys to move freely around and use the space(s) as intended.

Anyone have a backhoe I can borrow?

We managed to mail out a good chunk of Christmas cards but, sadly, a lot of people won’t be hearing from us this year because we ran out of time to finish writing/signing them. Christmas cookies are baked but need to be packaged up (and mailed!) so those will quite likely be late arriving and may be better suited to “New Years Cookies” instead. And the house is moderately decorated but there’s no chance we’ll have time to buy and string up lights all over the place this year.

I am a-okay with the “not perfect” status on all of these things. I think we have a pretty decent excuse this time around, don’t you?

Just got off the phone with the adoption worker.. since the weekend visit went so very well, and since The Boys are excited about moving in, it looks like the formal placement date will be December 27th.

They’re coming here on Friday for a sleepover for the holidays (Christmas, I mean) and then they’ll be placed! Here! As our kids! Ours!

Wheeeeeeeeeehaaaaaaaaaa!

The house is spectacularly quiet right now, save for the occasional “woof” of a dog or the sound of me slurping down a mug of caffeine and sugar while making orgasmic noises of glee.

The Boys went back to their foster parents’ house yesterday afternoon which is both a good thing and a bad thing.

It’s good because we now have a few more days to get things under control around here – moving stuff around, setting things up, and, of course, shopping for Christmas gifts without them around.

Not to mention the fact that I just drank a whole mug of coffee that was still WARM. I can already tell that’s going to be relegated to “special occasion” status.

It’s bad because, holy crap, I miss them. The house is SO QUIET. No one is shouting my name (or Coffee’s) and no one is running around like a deranged animal and, so far, no one has asked if they can have a Pixie Stik for breakfast.

The foster parents picked The Boys up yesterday afternoon and stayed for a little while to chat and find out how things went. As we talked, Middle One kept insisting that he wanted to just stay here, forever, now. Older One popped in and asked if he could move in permanently on Wednesday.

Why Wednesday? I have no idea.

But The Boys are quite excited by the idea of moving in here and being adopted and being part of the family and that, my friends, is a-okay with me.

We aren’t seeing them today but we’ll be going to their school bake sale on Tuesday night, visiting them on Wednesday and Thursday nights (after school) and then.. Friday.

Adoption is kind of mindboggling. We met these kids LAST WEEK for the very first time and in a few days we’ll be the only people responsible for them.

Time to get today started. Hope I can manage to stay awake..