Sometimes I sit down to write a post for this blog and I get all hung up on the TITLE.

You know, I really can be distracted rather easily sometimes. I know I opened up this website so I could write about something that was in my mind. Then I saw the TITLE area and lost my train of thought. I started to write: Beautiful Summer, and Life in the Slow Lane, and Birthday Blues, and… well then I thought all of those were fairly nice titles but have nothing to do with what I wanted to write about.

Which was?

Yeah, I’m easily distracted. This is something of a running joke in our household. Which one of us has the ADD, again? The one thing I keep coming back to which makes me deny having ADD (or ADHD, if you prefer) is that I made it all the way through college and grad school without any medication or treatment for ADD. That was six long years of being educated— lots of papers all handed in on time, lots of exams prepared for and taken, no incompletes, no withdrawing from classes… So, that makes me think there’s no way I could really have this disorder and still get by. And with a 4.0 GPA in grad school– and a 3.7 GPA in college.

Or maybe I just do well at school stuff. Is the single-minded structure of go-to-class, do-your-homework enough structure to make me succeed? I don’t know, really, but I am proud that I was so good at school.

My attitude fluctuates greatly. My default setting is “I can do anything I set my mind to.” Of course, I know that’s not exactly true. There are some things I probably cannot accomplish, but that would probably also be the fact that I don’t WANT to put my mind to them.

Today I want to put my mind to putting down some adhesive tiles in my children’s bathroom. I’m going to cover over the old tiles that are there, because they are cracked and incomplete, with sections of the floor that is just kinda grungy cement. I would take a before and after picture, but yesterday Carla and I managed to break my digital camera. Maybe I can borrow a camera from someone else, though.

I asked Drob if he was okay with me putting down these adhesive tiles over the floor in there, because they aren’t exactly high quality. They are pretty, though. I figure it’ll make an improvement, maybe last a couple of years. Maybe by then, we’ll have enough money to really fix up the bathroom for real.

He said, “Hmm… you might find it difficult.”

“Meh!” was my response. Difficult? Pshaw. I don’t think so!

What’s difficult is getting organized, getting a shower, finding all the things I need to do it, cleaning the floor before applying the tiles, finding a good cutting tool to trim them to the right size. Once I do all that, I’m gold. It’s gonna be a cinch.

Carla is turning nine on Saturday. We’re going to have one of my favorite kinds of birthday parties: Low key, low tech, getting down with nature at a park with a creek nearby. We’ll wade in the creek, eat watermelon and cake, hang out and chat, maybe do a pinyata. And that’s all. Easy.

I like easy stuff.

Easy stuff? Okay, now I know what to title this entry, incoherent though it may have been.

Lately I’ve had the opportunity to spend time with each of my children, alone, away from her sister.

That sentence is not a healthy one — hang on a minute while I take it out back and shoot it to put it out of its misery.

There.

Starting again now.

I have had the chance to spend some nice long chunks of time with each of my girls. Carla and I went shopping together, and doing other errands in a leisurely way on Sunday. Then on Monday, Carla was at camp, so Annie and I got to cuddle and watch a movie together. By evening, Annie and I were on our way to New York to visit my mom, and in preparation for going to the funeral this morning. On the drive up to NY, Annie suddenly said pensively, “I hate what we’re doing right now.”

Alarmed, I replied, “What, just sitting in the car waiting for the time to pass so we can get to Nonna’s house?” I figured she was probably just getting bored stiff.

“No, not that,” she answered. “I just hate that our car is polluting as we go.”

I’m back home now. I missed my big girl (Carla) but I really did enjoy getting some time just with Annie. Annie is so ridiculously chatty and sunny, her personality is shiny and bright as a new copper penny. She bursts with song, stories, and creativity. It can be a little daunting, I guess, for the uninitiated.

But luckily I am her Mommy. So I’m prepared to appreciate her endless prattle (oops, I mean, fabulous gift of the gab), as well as her harmonica playing (don’t knock it till you’ve heard it!), and she is quite the singer / songwriter. Said Annie, “Ok, Mom, I’m going to play you some harmonica songs now, and you’re going to have to listen, cause you’re my Mommy!” Can you say CAPTIVE AUDIENCE?

It was really fun actually, riding home from NY today in the car, with her in the backseat. We hit some rather heavy rain, and she decided that was because of Mother Nature crying her heart out over global warming, harmful pollution, and the passing of my Aunt Aileen.

She decided that the only way to calm Mother Nature’s nerves was to sing to her. So we sang. And we sang, and we sang some more. Singing in the Rain, Raindrops keep Fallin’ On my Head, Robin in the Rain, Yellow Submarine, Red Red Robin, Bushel and a Peck, Michael Row Your Boat Ashore, Her Majesty, Clementine, You are My Sunshine…. and more. I was so pleased to be able to remember the words, or most of them!

I actually really love singing in the car. (When Carla is in the car with me, she tells me to be quiet, that I give her a headache. Annie, by contrast, eggs me on, and sings along when she knows the words.)

Anyway, when we finally had passed through the cloud burst and out the other side, Mother Nature rewarded us mightily with a beautiful rainbow. The huge wonderful kind that any happy child colors over and over and over again in their notebooks. We sang our hearts out even more after that. It was really stunning. I kept having to make myself focus on the driving. So we sang even more. Rainbow Connection, Somewhere over the Rainbow, and LOTS of renditions of You Are My Sunshine.

Annie is really sensitive, in a lot of ways, but she’s also a pretty happy kid. Carla is more of a mystery to me, and keeps a lot of her thoughts to herself. When the three of us are together, the two of them interact MUCH more with each other than with me directly. I butt in to their little arguments when they get out of hand, or get on my nerves a bit much.

And so, it’s very nice to have had these individual times with each of them. I look forward to figuring out more ways to work individual attention time into our schedules. I feel much closer to each child, as a result of the time we spent together. This should not come as a surprise to me, but yet it does. It is really eye-opening to think that these children, as vital to me as they are, haven’t gotten much special Mom Time all year long, even though they are with me for hours. The poor dears have to share me, not only with each other, but also with a dozen or more of their peers.

I really must think about ways to make this better for them next year. Sigh.

Annie (6) has a squishy hot pink pillow. It is a kid-sized pillow, meant to be put in a pillow case and used as one would a typical pillow on a bed. That’s not how she uses it, though. Pillow cases be damned, this cute hot pink pillow cannot be covered. And it’s not for putting your head on, silly. It’s for clinging to.

She lays down in bed, and takes the squishy thing into her arms and pulls it close to her. She squeezes it, and hugs it in a cozy and loving manner. This is what she calls “clinging” to the pillow. Sure, sometimes she takes the stuffed animal of her choice to bed with her, bestowing upon “Calico” (a cat), or “Cloe” (a bear), or
“Sammy” (penguin), or even sometimes “Steel” (a labrador puppy), her good graces and unmitigated kid love. But the hot pink pillow remains a constant in her bedtime clinging routine.

The other constant is wanting snuggles. From me, or if that’s not an option, Drob is another acceptable snuggler. Tonight she waited up for me to come give her snuggles. It was late; with my work schedule and such this week, we didn’t eat dinner until well after 8 PM, perhaps even after 9. We gorged ourselves on this fantastic rhubarb cobbler and Drob read from the chapter book we are currently engrossed in (Peter and the Star Catchers).

So it was quite late when bedtime came, about 10:15PM. I was bustling around (I’m in a really really good mood, though I can’t really say why) and I didn’t want to go snuggle right away. I figured that with how late it was, and what a long busy day, that her eyes would shut and she’d be out cold before her head even hit the pillow. Or at least as soon as she started to cling to her pink pillow.

She called out to me, from her room, however, asking for snuggles. I bustled five more minutes, wanting to get the most out of my unusually high energy level. Walking down the hall to put away some stuff in the linen closet, she heard my footsteps and called out to me again.

“I’m WAITing here, you know!”

I was very surprised that she was still awake. I finished putting away the sheets and towels and walked over to her room.

I laid down on her bed, and drew her into my arms. She was clinging her pillow, and I was enveloping her into my arms. She told me, “Ah! You’re clinging me!” I was, too, I was holding her in a tight kind of snuggle, all wrapped up safe and close in my arms. She had her pink pillow in her arms, cozy and secure. I realized that for her, the clinging she does to her pillow is a kind of replica of the kind of snuggles she wants from me.

“Mommies are better for clinging than pillows, I guess,” I told her. She answered, “yeah and they smell better than pillows, too.” This is not surprising, especially since her cling-pillow is one which doesn’t have a pillow case to keep it fresh!

I laid there, and held her as she fell asleep. In the dim light coming from the hallway, I could see her sweet features up close. Her eyes, closed, I could see her black eye lashes resting on her soft pink cheeks. I could see the tenderness of her clinging to her pillow, and watched as she slipped deeper into sleep. Her grip on the pillow relaxed– she was clearly getting some good rest.

How much longer will I be able to hold her and watch her fall asleep, content and safe in my arms? I am a little sad that I don’t still do this with Carla, her older sister. I think I still would snuggle Carla to sleep if only a) she didn’t have a loft bed or b) if she didn’t wet the bed. Carla is a kid who seems to want extra physical affection. She still loves to sit on my lap and get lots of hugs, and piggy back rides. I make a point of giving her the opportunity for physical closeness, because I know that eventually she’ll want more distance as she becomes more of a tween.

The tenderness of holding your child as she falls asleep is wonderful. I adore both of my girls tremendously, and I swell with pride at their many acheivements. It’s no wonder that the simple joy of watching them sleep still fills me with happiness.

I went to PennDOT today to get my photo taken for my driver’s license.

Now, I know, and you know, that driver’s license photos are always unflattering, right? But PennDOT is kind and wise, or maybe just kinda wise. They let you see your photo before it is printed on your license. You can do it over if you don’t like it. As much as you want.

My first try was awful. I’d tried to smile, and it just looked like gas, or something, and WHOAH, HELLO DOUBLE CHIN! Yikes! I asked her to do it over.

The second try was better, but also looked bizarre. Who is that crazy lady, was my first thought. Then I remembered, oh yeah, that’s me. The smile was kind of rictus-looking, but the chins were a little less obvious. The hair looked okay for a crazy lady.

On the other hand, a few nights ago I went out to a party* with Drob, and I got all dressed up. I even put body makeup on my boobages. Glittery boobages! I borrowed a swanky sexy red dress and did my hair and put on makeup. I can’t believe there are people who actually do that every day! Ok, not the dress, but the rest of it. Everyone told me I looked great (hot, beautiful, pretty, awesome, etc.) That was nice. Should have gotten my driver’s license photo done that night. Of course, that isn’t possible, and there’s something wrong about getting your driver’s license photo taken when you are stumbling around, having had too many mojito’s.

Still, and anyway, it’s good to know that I can clean up nice from time to time. I had the worst headache ever the next morning, but I don’t regret it at all. It’s not like I made out with random strangers and puked on my shoes. THAT would be a crazy party.

*Fundraiser for school! Does that count? Yes, it does, because I got kinda drunk and danced around in a distinctly undignified way.

That adorable little kitten died the day before yesterday, early in the morning. I’d held him all night, trying very hard to give him some nourishment. He could not or would not drink– not from a kitten bottle, not from a dropper. He was fading fast and I knew it. Every now and again he’d make sad, sad, mewling noises, and stretch his body out in a gruesome and sad way. So sad.

Yesterday was Annie’s sixth birthday, too. She came to our bedroom in the morning of her birthday. “Good morning, Happy Birthday,” I told her. “Lucky died,” said Drob, explaining my sad face and the little still bundle of black and white fluff still sitting on the bed.

It was very hard to be cheery and full of excitement. Lucky was just a tiny, sick little kitten and there was nothing more we could do for him. Annie was not as affected by his death as I was. I think she just understood, that he could die, from the beginning. He’d been so obviously ill over the last few days. I was ever hopeful.

Still, the bigger lesson is there, and it’s not an easy one. The little kitten showed us that you can care, and offer comfort even when it doesn’t result in a happy ending. I showed my children that you can care, and still lose something precious. Life does go on when there is a loss. That’s an important lesson.

Another lesson here is that when you think about it, you realize that ALL life on earth is temporary. We live just a little while. What will we do when we are here? Where will we go when we go? We don’t know– but we can think about the impact we make on others during our little lives. We can love large. We can offer hope. We can try, and we can fail, but that never negates the trying itself.

Just got my car back from the shop, where they’d had to replace the brake lines, pads, rotors, etc. Yay for working brakes. And to think that I drove around with leaky brake lines for how long?? Waaaay too long. It took a long time to get the car fixed, since the part that they needed is no longer in stock and is discontinued by Isuzu. Luckily Honda still makes the same part. I didn’t put it together before, but the problems that the auto industry have? Well they affect used car repair too, since the companies can’t afford to keep making parts for old cars. Not so great for me, since old cars is what we’re going to keep having for quite a while.

We’ve spent over $1000 on this old car so far this year– but that’s a lot less than buying a new car. Carla and Annie think we should get a hybrid. They would rather walk than pollute, but it would be even better if we could drive without polluting when we have to. I think it’s great that they have such a good grasp on this: their generation is the one that is going to be most affected by the planet’s status.

Sometimes I just feel guilty, though. I think that this may be the default setting for motherhood. Better to cheerfully grin and bear it, than be hangdog. Guilty? Yup, I sure am! I’m your mom after all! Tell it to your therapist, baby!

I remember sitting in the hospital just hours before going home, when Carla was a wee little babe on my lap. She was tiny and perfect (to my eyes) and I could see that I had my hands full. I started to think… and cry. “I’m sorry that you’ll have to go through middle school someday, baby!” I murmured to her tiny self.

Looking back, I know that was at least partially those wonderful post-partum hormones kicking in, but something larger is at play when you think of your children as they grow. After all, adoptive moms go through just as much worry and stress and guilt as any other mom. It’s the thought that your child will go through some kind of adversity, and the knowledge that though you are protecting your child as much as you can, you still will see the day when SOMETHING goes amiss.

This underarm odor thing is really normal, and I shouldn’t get worked up over it. But like any little thing, it sure is easy to be alarmed. It’s like a Check Engine light. I can tell something is up, but I don’t really know what to do. I don’t want to make a big deal about a little odor — and I don’t want her to feel like her natural body is icky. But on the other hand, I would hate for her to be teased or just uncomfortable with herself.

When she and I talked about the body odor thing, I brought it up as follows:

“I’d like for you to get a bath tonight. Or, maybe, 8 and a half is a good age to start taking short showers in the morning. That way, you’re nice and fresh for school.”

C: “NO SHOWERS! I HATE SHOWERS. They’re like standing in boiling water rain! NO!”

“OK, bath tonight, then, that’s fine. I noticed that your body is starting to grow and change some, and it’s normal for kids your age to have more body odor, so a bath will help.”

C: “Maybe I should start wearing deodorant.”

Since she’s the one who brought it up, I think I should maybe follow her lead. I will want to research this and find something in the natural products range. Just deodorant, and not antiperspirant.

If only getting my car to work right were as easy. Or solving the global climate crisis, for that matter.

Unfortunately, on the way home the Check Engine light came on. Great!

I hate it when things just sit, unresolved. Could be something minor, major, doesn’t matter, but if it just sits on the back burner, and I have to keep track of it, it just really bugs me.

Right now, there are a bunch of unresolved issues. The one that weighs on me worst is this work situation, and I’m not even comfortable writing about it here, in the moderately anonymous forum of my personal blog. It is unsettling at best. I feel like I’m carrying a weight around, and it just goes on and on.

Another weight: we’re being sued by the city for failing to file taxes. The same ones that we’d paid an accountant $600 to file. Um. It’s not clear if they were filed, it’s confusing as hell. To make things worse, D had to re-do the taxes because they were done wrong. D fixed them, and I am going to deliver them in person tomorrow, trying to find my way through the city’s offices to see where to get the revised forms submitted. So that they can allow us to not have to appear in court. And drop the $5000 punitive fee. Sigh. I am nervous about this, as I don’t know what I am doing exactly. It’s an adventure, I suppose.

Another one: My dad apparently lost a lot of money from his investments, money that he was counting on for living expenses. He still gets social security, and a pension, but it’s hard living on those fixed incomes. He is re-doing his will (this is a good thing) and wants to know whether he should leave me his house, or leave it to both my brother and myself, and have us just sell it and split the proceeds. I think that given the economy now, having the house stay in the family longer would be better: why sell it when the market is so awful anyway? Of course we don’t know WHEN the Time will Come, so who knows on that anyway.

But yeah, we want the house, say D and I, and my dad is going to get his papers in order. Hope he does it.

Things get so ugly and awful when people die without putting their estate into order first.

Speaking of such things, I don’t have a will. That is bad, too. Anyone with kids should have a will, with contingencies and information, and what would happen IF Something Bad Occurs. Another unresolved thing.

All of this makes me want to hide under the blankets with a few cats and just escape.

Last night I played a card game here at home with D and Cammy, got a little silly. There was wine. It was fun, and relaxing. A brief escape from feeling so overwhelmed, tired, defeated by the world. Of course, today, it’s back to reality and I keep thinking how nice it would be to escape again.

My mother buys stuff for my kids, then tells them over the phone that it’s a surprise, and that they can’t have it until they come visit. Then she tells them that they have to tell me & D that they want to visit her.

This blatant manipulation of my kids is so obnoxious. Luckily, my kids are relatively un-materialistic (for kids). They aren’t DYING to find out what they got, and they know that we’ll visit my mom when I am good and ready. Which is to say, we’ll go for Easter, like always. End of story.

Why must she be such a manipulative jerk? Really takes the glow off of an otherwise lovely day. Grrr!

Happiness – Sledding – Snowday = Cuddly Cat
Cuddly Cat + Snowday = Sledding + Happiness

Math is so much fun, isn’t it?

I’m snuggled up in bed with Carla and Annie. We’re watching my favorite Miyazaki film: Spirited Away, with our new kitty, Saffron. Saffron is a big time sweetie, and eccentric as well. She washes her paws– I kid you not!– by sticking them in her water and swishing them around. She especially does this shortly after using her litter box. So tidy! She also loves people food of all kinds. So far, she’s tried and liked pizza, scrambled eggs, ham, turkey sausage, milk, cheerios (both wet and dry), brussel sprouts, and macaroni and cheese. Unfortunately this diet leads to quite a bit of flatulence. We can’t blame her, though, after all, we allowed her to eat that stuff!

D is completely smitten with this cat, and I have to admit I’m quite sweet on her as well. She sits on my lap, something that my other three cats won’t do. She also is quite talkative, which is amusing.

I am so glad today is Friday. I am feeling really down, and I don’t really have any particular reason why.

Just feel all heavy and wiped out and pointless. I realized that I have an all-day work day on Monday — when the school where I work is closed but it is part of my job to provide childcare from 8:30 AM to 6 PM. These days are long. They are tiring, for me and for the kids I care for, including my own.

Carla isn’t going to be there all day, though, because D is taking her to see a specialist. She’s reached the age of “it’s time to consider what to do.” Her issues are mainly relating to the way that she is able, or not able, to pay attention. We’ve met with our pediatric nurse practitioner, who is wonderful. The nurse agrees with our assessments, and with Carla’s teacher’s assessment that Carla almost certainly has ADHD.

ADHD, or Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, is a poorly named disorder. If you aren’t familiar with it, it sounds like a label for kids who have ants in their pants, and don’t ever pay attention to anything. You know, those lazy kids who just spaz out all the time.

That’s certainly not the case. Sometimes ADHD has hyperactivity as a symptom, and sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes there are kids who can’t ever focus on anything, but not always. It’s really a cluster of symptoms, relating to one’s attention and activity levels, but it really does vary from case to case.

In Carla’s case, she has what they call the “inattentive” variety. This doesn’t really sound right either, since when she wants to, she is GREAT at being attentive. She can focus for hours and hours on something that she’s passionate about– say, making incredible art, or reading a whole book that she likes. She loves writing and will do that in a focused and determined way. But when something is the kind of task she’s NOT interested in, well, then — yeah, she’s a total space cadet.

Her mind is busy doing something else. It’s kind of like when you’re using a computer, and you KNOW you just clicked on something, but apparently the computer wasn’t ready to do what you asked. That’s how Carla gets — she just doesn’t respond sometimes. And it’s not easy to re-boot her, either!

“Huh? What?” she might say, coming back to reality, touching down from her little world of her own mind. “I spaced out,” she’ll admit. She even went so far as to tell me that spacing out is her super power.

In a way, she’s absolutely right. People with ADHD often have the ability to do INCREDIBLE things. They have a tendency to be bright, engaged, interesting, creative, and when they turn that super power focus to the “ON” position, well then: WHAMMY! What amazing success comes from that!

Unfortunately, life often contains things that don’t automatically trigger her WHAMMY attention. She might not be that interested in the math lesson — either she’s already mastered it or maybe just doesn’t care. Whatever the case is, she tunes out and misses a lot of stuff as a result.

Her teacher sees this happening even more when Carla is doing some class work with a partner– her partner is already finished and she’s just finally starting to put pencil to paper.

So anyway, we’re on to the investigation phase of what can we do to help Carla. I don’t think it’s easy– but there are routine, behavioral things that we do to help her and then there’s the medication route. Unfortunately, she’s anti-meds. Because they taste yucky.

It is hard being a parent.

Carla also has a problem with bed-wetting. She’s 8 and a half. She’s getting BIG. To still be wetting the bed these days is really getting to her. It’s every damn, night, too. I would be lying if I said I don’t mind washing sheets every day. She’s too big to wear a pull up– even the “deluxe” kinds that are supposed to be so great for big kids.

Her appointment on Monday is for the bed-wetting issues, but I think it all ties into the ADHD. People with ADHD have something different about the way their brain is “wired.” I believe that when she is asleep, her brain’s attention to body signal is pretty much zilch. That is my theory as to why she wets the bed: because her brain is somewhere ELSE.

I wish I could go to this appointment with her, but I am confident that D will be extremely competent at asking the right questions, getting good information. He is really on the ball, and understands Carla’s attention issues quite well. Nevertheless, I do wish I could be there.

As usual, writing has helped me somewhat. When I started this post, I just felt really dreary and dreadful. I am still down, but I feel a little bit better. (If people were to leave me little nice comments, that would help, too. Hint. Hint.)