Adoption · AEDM · Creativity · Faith · Healing · Uncategorized

Unpacking My Dreams

Today on a Live Stream on Facebook, Glenda Watson Hyatt asked about our “true dream”.  That ties in nicely with something I was thinking about as my mind wandered during church… (I’m sure I’m the only person that EVER happens to.) which is the fact that I feel so completely unqualified for the children I have… like I’m the mother who can’t let her walls down enough to love,  and I’ve been given two children that everyone believed are not able to be adopted.   Everything about this situation feels like a setup to fail… but my dream is that we won’t.  That somehow, God will get us through and one day they will be the amazing awesome humans that I see they can be.

Felicia is so deeply broken – but somewhere inside her is the little girl who loved nothing more than going to the special education class in her school to be a helper.  Somewhere inside her, beneath walls and shattered dreams and broken promises, lies that same heart.   My dream is that one day that heart will resurface.

Fergie is scared, so deeply scared.  She has been in home after home after home, she has been the little ears listening to things she should never have heard, and she wonders if there is anyone in the world she can truly trust.  Her rages are violent, unpredictable, and cause devastation to the world… but she is in a million ways the best thing that has ever happened to me.  She has the most amazing gift of compassion, of reaching beyond herself to those too broken to ask for it.  Underneath the fear and anger is the little girl who always made me donate to worthy causes, reminding me that she has benefited from these services and known what it is like to be poor.  My dream for her is that she will learn she is enough, she doesn’t have to fight for love because she is worth love just as she is.

Shrek, well,… he has some walls up too, some deep hurts boxed up in a corner, buried, that keep him from being the man he could be.  My dream is that he will have the courage to heal.

And me… I’m broken too.  I’m still learning how to love children who hurt me when they are hurting.  I’m still learning how to love and nurture, when my instinct is to put up walls of protection, so I can survive the hurtful words dished out.  (I hate you, you are not my mom, you will never be a mom, you will never be my mom,…)   My dream for me is that I’ll learn to love deeply enough to break through my walls.

So now that my dreaming for the night is done… it’s time to work, because dreams require more than a warm fuzzy feeling – they require prayer, hard work, and a metric crap-ton of commitment.

And speaking of work… here is what I’ve been doing as a part of Art Every Day Month!

20171119_213933Preparing beads (made from paper) to be treated… 37 strands waiting for the next dry day to be treated, since humidity makes the treatment sticky.  More beads sitting in bags waiting to be strung.  It feels a little bit like I’m avoiding true self-expression and true creativity… and I admit that is a thing.  But in this moment, putting beads on a string is soothing and calming, and sometimes you just need to roll with that.



Everything this week has been hard.  The girls’ bio parents know we are adopting them.  They know Felicia is hospitalized. A connected person made a public FB post asking me to let them “help” with Felicia.  Said person is reputed to be a child molestor, and expressed no desire to help with Fergie, BTW.  My stomach has been in knots, I’ve been weeding out people on my Facebook page,… Everything feels a bit like it is falling apart…

But today Fergie called me Mommy, twice.

I’m a weepy mess folks… even though the second time was followed by a hug in which she licked me.

She’s a turd, but she’s our turd.

Now if you will excuse me, I have a date with a box of Kleenex… because now that she is asleep, I can openly be my weepy mess.

Adoption · AEDM · Creativity · Uncategorized

Family Art Projects

October is hard for me.  October is a month of memories – of sights and smells that stir up so many emotions.  October is overwhelming – Halloween has a lot of obligations here, oddly enough.

I cope through the knowledge that Art Every Day Month comes in November.  30 days of focus on art, beauty, and connection.  This year though, that has been far more of a challenge than I predicted.  I talked AEDM up to Fergie, but she didn’t seem to “get it”… until this weekend.  Somehow, in the process of me getting out the box of lace from her room, the needles from mine (yes, I let her have sewing needles.  Yes, we had to use scissors to cut the thread.  Yes, I realize that is a Really Bad Idea.  Bite me.)  Fergie realized that Art Every Day Month was awesome!  We sat down Saturday, I laid out some old pockets from jeans I had cut out from the girls, and we made a list of materials that might be fun to use (buttons, lace, thread, sharpies, pens, etc.) to decorate the pockets.  We drew two – and ended up with thread and lace.  Also, somehow we ended up with sequins.  I think they were in Fergie’s lace/ribbon box?   As of yesterday, this is what the pockets looked like:


Mine is the one with the sequins (I didn’t get far, but it was fun to start.)  Hubby’s is the one on the left with the lace.  Fergie’s is the Harley Quinn one on the bottom!  She is loving the hell out of this craft, and hers is actually FAR more decorated now.  I’m hoping to be able to relax with her in the morning and work on mine at breakfast.

Love how this is bringing us together as a family.  I’m so blessed.

Adoption · Faith · Uncategorized

As I Write this Blog

As I write this blog

Fergie lays in her bed.
She is furious – she is grieving the loss of her parents – she is insecure, wondering when our love will end – she is overly tired and really just needs to go the ^%#$ to sleep.  (No wonder Morgan Freeman wrote and recorded a book about that!)  She tried everything to get out of a consequence that SHE CHOSE… first the argument, then sobbing that she was sorry and just missed her mom, then asking quietly and sweetly, then telling me she felt like she was being punished…

As I write this blog

Shrek lays in his bed.
He should be sleeping, but he knows Fergie is raging, and there is a 50% chance that will end in me being physically attacked or her running out of the house – but she is calm now.  He should be sleeping, but he knows I was crying earlier and doesn’t know why, and I know that bothers him.  He really should be sleeping.  He wakes up for work in 6 hours.

As I write this blog

I’m sitting on a bean bag, in my child’s room.  She is sprawled out on her bed, I’m pretty sure she is asleep but not sure enough to risk wiggling or making any sound except to type.   The house feels strained – I miss the sense of peace after bedtime routine, hugs and story and snack and devotions and giggles.

As I write this blog

I’m hungry.  I locked myself out of the apartment in the morning without my work phone.  I came back on my lunch break to have my neighbor break in (he has some very nice skills, which have been polished by the fact that I’ve locked myself out… more than once. As has Shrek.  Each time he lets us in, more quickly than the last time, I am grateful… impressed… but a small part of me is a little uneasy that he can get in my apartment in less than a minute at this point.)  I got in the apartment, spent my lunch looking for my keys (I found them in my van. Where I had access to them the whole stupid day.), and realized as I was driving that I had left my wallet in the van.  Ate leftovers at work while working… ate some chips here… and now waiting for Fergie to go the @#$% to sleep so I can make something edible. But she just wiggled her leg… so…

As I write this blog

I am struggling.  I feel like in Fergie’s eyes I never can do anything right.  I love her so deeply…. but I question if I am too broken to be able to love her the way she needs.  What if my issues make me unable to make the depth of bond that she needs?  I should probably analyze that, but my emotions shut off for self-protection about the time she started crying that she was sorry.  She was not sorry – she was sorry that she had chosen the consequences she did and wanted to remake her choice.  Do I sound cold and unfeeling? I feel cold and unfeeling.

As I write this blog

I hurt that my husband is still awake at 9:30.  That my child went to bed crying and if I had just cracked and let her have what she wanted she would have went to bed happy and knowing she was loved… but love isn’t giving you what you want, love is guiding you toward good choices and giving you the consequences that go with your choice. Or is it?  There is not a book for this.

As I write this blog

I’m also writing in my mind the basics of a book idea I just thought of yesterday that would be epic if I could do the idea justice… and also writing a hate letter to the woman who promised my children to love them forever, and sent them packing 3 weeks later.  The anniversary of that event is in 2 days, and I would very much like to run that woman over with a car. (Repeatedly.) But instead I’ll write a blog post about my thoughts.  Maybe the angry letter that people keep telling me I need to write to her, full of swearing and rage.

As I write this blog

I’m wishing I was writing my planned post for Art Every Day Month, with pictures of beads and a partially knitted scarf and a rug made out of old shirts.  I’m wishing I was showered with a full belly as I typed.  I’m wishing I had made different decisions as a parent today – that I was not always such a hard-ass and was filled with compassion and sweetness instead of full of deep love and sarcastic wit, with a dash of rage and a dollop of inappropriate humor. (or maybe it’s a dollop of rage, with no humor at all. Depends on the day.)  But that is not who I am, and that is not how this day went – so since Fergie has not wiggled in a bit, I’m going to ponder moving the punching bag out into the living room, grab a shower and some thing that probably should look like a vegetable but probably will look more like ice cream, (or maybe brocolli covered with cheese, which is considered a vegetable and yet completely delicious, followed by guilt-free ice cream) and pray… because this path I have chosen requires more than is inside me.

Adoption · AEDM · Creativity · Uncategorized

The one where I forgot to take pics

AEDM without pics feels so weird… But my husband (and his phone) are already in bed, and I am still working on a new one for me.

So what are you missing pictures of?  Well…

I’m crocheting old shirts/jeans into ugly rugs to put outside the shower.  I’m knitting a scarf and really doing well on it!  I’m making a ton of beads out of paper, as is Tiny Chef.  I started counting this afternoon, after doing some in the morning, and counted that I did 70 today.  I strug a bunch more on lines to seal them. (this will make more sense tomorrow when I can take pics.  I also cut the back pockets out of a bunch of old pants that were too stained/torn to be given away.  Our family AEDM project tomorrow will be decorating the spare pockets.  I’m planning to try and make a weighted quilt for the girls, or at the least a sensory pillow, using old jeans and the pockets.  That probably makes no sense when I describe it but will be super cute if I can make it work (which I do not yet know if I can or not so I may use the girls’ old jean legs to make a test run.)  I also cut up a pair of jeans and trying to make it into a hot pad.  I’m not sure how I feel about it yet.


I’m keeping an eye out on Fergie and I.  I feel like the blowups are caused when we let little things get to us, and don’t know how to open a release valve and let out that stress.  I’m trying on my end to be more mindful of where my head and my heart are.  Today I had my husband stay up a little extra (he doesn’t work tomorrow morning) so I could just go in my bedroom and lay down, read a little and just turn the light off and be.  It was nice to take some time and care for me.  I also made cream of mushroom soup… another little treat to me (though surprisingly, Shrek ate a bowl and Fergie ate two bowls. I didn’t expect that!).  I also prayed this morning… getting my head in the right place before Fergie woke up.


Unpacking My Baggage

I have no AEDM today to share – my creative endeavor today is simply surviving.

The tension in the swamp this week is rather intense.  Yesterday a strut or something on The Minivan started making a much louder thud-thud-thud sound.  Today Shrek’s car got a flat tire, when I went to take it to a home visit instead of the beloved Minivan. Shrek is super deeply edgy, wondering how we can possibly make ends meet.   I told him I am so overwhelmed holding the emotional end of things together that the finances are not even on my radar.   I just don’t have that in me.

Nor do I have it in me to really blog about all this tonight.  Or to change my title, even.  I’m gonna eat some chicken and potatoes and head to bed.  I’ll sort through my baggage another night, when my bed is not calling out to me in such and extremely LOUDDDD voice.


Adoption · Uncategorized

Unpacking the Weight of Humor

I never thought I, who am consistently humorous and have consistently dealt with everything bad in life with laughter, would be writing a post about the pressure caused by humor… but here I am.

Because there is something different about life when someone NEEDS you to be funny.  When your husband and Felicia list “Silly” on the list of “what a happy family is” and you realize that the type of humor you subscribe to (dry, witty, sarcastic) may not be what your family needs…

And when Fergie needs you to be laughing at her silliness, which you don’t really find that funny because you have really never been, nor want to be, silly…  and she NEEDS you to be amused by her silliness frequently, and you are stuck because if you don’t laugh because you don’t find it funny, she feels you don’t love her…. but if you do laugh at what you find no humor in, you are being fake…

Humor is not really fun for me right now.   .

And so therefore, since today I did not laugh at what I did not find funny, because I had a migrane and was frustrated that in the space of a 12 minute car ride, Fergie tried to make me laugh at least 4 times, one of which involved locking me out of my van and attempting to make me dance when I went in a gas station to get my much-overdue caffination… Fergie had a blowup at church, walked out of her Sunday School class, went to the bathroom, and refused to leave.

And when Fergie got home and heard that there was a consequence for this,  everything blew.  (note: the confusion could possibly because before I knew she had stormed out of class, I had apologized for being a jerk on the way to church even though I wasn’t really a jerk I was just LOCKED OUT OF MY OWN DAMN CAR…) I’m so over how badly it blew that it’s not worth writing… but police were called. My poor right boob was the victim of yet another assault.  The normal comments about how I would never be a mother and should go to hell, followed by her deciding to commit suicide and putting her hands around her throat.  When I read my book, calmly (because your physical body doesn’t allow you to die from choking yourself, which I told her calmly from the safety of my locked minivan), followed by begging and pleading not to have to go to a hospital to get help once the police arrived (answered by “what’s done is done, and the consequences are already settled.”)  she did not feel particularly amused… But when we got to the hospital, where they keep her while looking for a bed in a psychiatric hospital, she was ready to be laughing and silly and funny…

I was not.  It was 2 in the afternoon and I hadn’t had lunch.  She had thrown my Diet Dr Pepper during her rage. (YOU DO NOT THROW THE SACRED CAFFEINE! EVER!) I was just downright pissed.  My husband came, after she had gotten her tray of food and eaten the dessert that she knows she can’t have when hospitalized for being a turd, so I was petty and went to McDonalds and she had to smell my hamburger and fries, which I ate at like 4 and gave me a bellyache that I probably deserved for being so petty.  Judgments of God and all.

She stayed pissed and sullen (I was also pissed and sullen, to be honest) until she found out that when I went home and packed her crayons and coloring books, avoiding adult coloring books because she had said they were hard to color in with crayons (I do not bring sharp pointy colored pencils to the hospital when you have tried to break the window of my van to attack me, since I like my eyes and flesh to not have colored pencils inserted in soft tissue… ) she flew into a rage and threw the coloring books and charged at me (luckily husband was there, that was a rage I hadn’t expected since I had gotten her what she had asked for.) until my husband stepped between us and the nurses advised her that she was getting in her bed, she could go into it or be put into it…

And then just a bit later she was happily playing I Spy with the nurse.  Side note – I was not amused then either.  I was, however, wondering if maybe I am the weak link in this family… if a happy family needs to be silly, and I am not silly… where does that leave me? (Answer: it leave me in a hospital cot, at 4AM, sad because it’s the 6th of November and Fergie and Felicia have no idea who Guy Fawkes is. Annoyed because while I packed coloring books for Fergie that she clearly hated, I did not remember basic supplies for the crafts I enjoy and am up here for God-knows-how-long without my plastic knitting needles that seem hard to embed in soft tissue and my glue to roll beads.)

Adoption · AEDM · Creativity · Uncategorized

AEDM Day 3, Pics from Day 2


My projects from yesterday, depicting my rage against TMobile.  (One of me holding the cracked screen being mad, one of my punching a sign advertising T Mobile) No phone updates.  Trying the pawn shop tomorrow.

Today was a momentous day in unpacking the me lost in adoption…

Today was the first day of BLIZZCON!!!! The most awesomely cool nerd event OF MY LIFE!!!  We went to a friend’s house (annual tradition, 4th year in a row), watched all kinds of promos for new gaming things being added to existing games.  Fergie was transfixed and I am now creating her own account for Blizzard… and working on getting mine set back up.  And downloading games!  Feeling super excited that Fergie is interested in this part of our traditions and lives. 🙂

Crocheted some on my super ugly throw rug for the bathroom.  Knitted a little.  Made a few paper beads.  Taught Fergie to roll beads.  (She is very proud of this new skill.)

And now I’m exhausted, and going to bed.  Nite world!


Rage Against the Machine

If technology as a whole were in a small box in front of me today, I would take the box, throw it down, stomp on it, beat it into a wall, and then hit it repeatedly with a truck.  I would then sweep up the remains and run them over with a semi. Repeatedly.

I posted yesterday about not being able to put pics up some days in the upcoming near future, due to my phone breaking.  This is insanely frustrating, I might add.  Today, I decided I wanted to log into Yahoo from my work computer on my lunch break, since I can log into it on my phone.

Yahoo made me log in using their authentication, which sends a message to your phone and you have to hit buttons to tell yahoo that it really is your device.  So I thought this would be annoying to fix, but fixable.  I tried to go into Yahoo help and figure out how to fix it… and it gave me no other option, except to use my alternate e-mail.  I sent it to my gmail account… thought I was good…

My Gmail account then made me log into it using the same procedure.  With my phone.

So I look in Yahoo’s tech support…   which was a whole lot of work for a whole lot of nothing.  There is no help phone number. There is no live assistant to help me with my needs.  There is no e-mail link.  There is literally no way to find a real person.

So I go onto Gmail’s tech support. I look forever, and finally find a form I can fill out in order to get the phone authentication process ended.  I am all excited, ready to get this finally fixed… and then the link to the form was broken.

Also there is no way to reach a human at gmail.

Today’s Art Every Day Month participation involved me drawing a self-portrait of me holding my broken phone with a look of rage, and a second self-portrait of me putting my fist through a sign advertising TMobile.  *sigh*

I really need a phone.

Also does anyone know why I keep getting an OpenID error every time I try to sign in to a Blogger account using my WordPress?

Adoption · AEDM · Creativity · Faith · Uncategorized

Unpacking – The Lost Me

I’m super excited to be participating in Art Every Day month – the time of year where we all do something creative every day for the month of November.  I love seeing all of the pictures, hearing about the projects, and seeing creative ideas I never would have known were possible!!!

Sadly, I will be not have a lot of pics for a while this year.  My camera fell off a toilet paper dispenser in a gas station, which cracked the screen more and released some bizarre purple ink all through the screen area.  I talked to TMobile and my insurance on my phone has a deductible of $175 so I’m just going to be without a phone for a bit while I try to find a cheap replacement.  Also my hands tingle each time I touch the phone, which makes me think it’s radioactive or something.  I’ll let you all know if I start growing a third boob or anything.

That said.. I do have a pic for today.  LOL  Survival 1

And what is this strange object?  Well, this is going to be a mother’s survival kit.  A place to store sweet things the girls have given me, like the note Felicia wrote to Shrek, with a beautiful flower in bright happy colors, with an apology for kicking him in the crotch the night before.  Just, you know, the basic things I use to remind me of how wonderful my children are and why I don’t want to eat my young.

It doesn’t look like might now… but one day it will be so much more than what you see today. (Yes… this is the theme of my adoption.)  It is also something found in the Bible… in the scriptures, the Israelites made altars to show where God had done great things in their lives, and tell their children.  I thought, all this time, that this was to benefit the children… but I’m learning right now that these landmarks are there just as much to remind us, on the darkest of nights, of the miraculous “stars” that led us on this journey.

Anyway, this is ironic since my plan for the AEDM this month is to unpack ME.  I feel like in the hustle and the bustle, the chaos of learning to be a parent and making sure absolutely everyone in the home/office/planet is okay… I get lost.  Overlooked.  So this month, my theme is finding the me that I’ve packed away, under debris and stress and self-sacrifice and a few layers of emotional eating… so I can find and be myself again.