Doing what I love

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the advocacy work that I do.  Recently a really exciting opportunity has come up which might pave the way for more cohesive progress for Missouri foster and adoptive families.  Next week I’ll meet with some other Missouri advocates to talk about the possibilities and my mind is simply racing with the picture of what we could do together.

This week I’m in Colorado and I’m watching the advocates here grow in capacity by the hour.  Their confidence and their sense of direction is blooming in front of me and they are creating strategies for positive change that will impact so many lives.

Unfortunately all of that doesn’t happen with ease.  When I work in my own state, and often when I work in other states, what I frequently encounter is people who either don’t realize what they can do if they try, or people who have lost their direction and focus.  Not long ago I wrote in our newsletter about my firm belief that foster and adoptive parents underestimate the power they have to transform systems and the lives impacted by those systems.

But what often gets in the way of effective parent advocacy is the same thing that gets in the way of effective parenting….  The focus shifts from what is best for kids to something that is about the adults in the picture.  Just as we frequently take our children’s misbehavior personally,  often there are folks who have assumed a position of leadership and take themselves and that position very seriously.  In fact, their ego and their need to maintain what feels to them like power, blocks them from making the decisions which are ultimately best for the kids they purport to serve.  This same phenomenon happens in child welfare casework, where people put their need to control things on overdrive and kids and families suffer.  In the case of foster parents, sometimes the offending party is a training foster parent who is seen as a ‘leader’ by those who are less experienced.  Sometimes the offending party is a support group leader who has become caught up in the title ‘president’.   You all probably know people in all walks of life who get a little too full of themselves and end up making a fool of themselves in their pursuit of perceived ‘greatness’. 

What we have the opportunity to do in advocacy for abused and neglected kids is not to make a name for ourselves.  Rather our chance is the chance to work humbly together to hold up the kids we are here to serve and to bolster through our work, the efforts of the unnamed and uncelebrated heroes who spend each and every day of their lives fighting to make a difference in those children’s lives.  What we can do, if we can keep our focus, is we can truly change the world one child at a time.  That’s REAL greatness.

When I encounter a barrier in the form of someone’s ego, I do my best to work through it in a respectful and direct way.  But if it can’t be worked through, I work around it, ignore it and do my best to get past in and continue to make positive change.   I really do try not to make things worse by badmouthing or disrespecting people who I view as barriers, because it is not my place to judge..and because I don’t know what it is that has caused someone to feel and act the way they do.  I have to assume, as I do with my kids when they are unreasonable and angry, that the issue is not really directed at me, but rather is something that they are struggling with internally.

But I don’t allow a barrier to stop me from moving forward in advocacy for the needs and interests of the children and families I’m here to serve.  Life is short, and I have things to get done while I’m here.  And as is so often the case, given long enough, many of the barriers that have seemed so formidable for so long, eventually tend to fall away.

That’s what I’m thinking about here today.  I’m thinking about what a great privilege it is that I get to go to work each day and do something that I truly believe matters to people.  I’m not knocking other people’s jobs.  I just can’t tell you enough how great it is to do something you can go home and feel good about even on the days when you don’t win the battles.

And working in other states has reminded me that we have so much more in common than we have things which separate us.  Our hearts for this work are so much the same.  And our desperate need to be understood in the work that we do, and for our children to be supported with the services that might give them the best opportunities are universal to us all.

This week, as I’ve been working to bring attention to the foster and adoptive families of Joplin, Missouri who lost their homes and in one case, an adoptive mother lost  her life, the spirit of the greater community to respond to those who are in need has never been more apparent.  What Joplin teaches us is that things…and even our very lives, are fleeting.  What matters are the people we are able to touch.  It’s the who…not the what.  It’s the kindness, not the power.  It’s the relationship, not the control.  It’s about doing that next right thing even when it’s hard.  And the reward is in the feeling (that I personally think of as God’s Grace) that comes from taking that step.

“Double, double toil and trouble”

Lots of drama in the Ross family this week:

Oldest almost daughter, who lives far away in Florida, is very
recently separated from her longtime partner.  Together they have one
daughter, and she has five other kids and has parented his son for the past
five years.  The separation has been very uncomfortable for her and for the kids who have viewed this guy as their dad for a long time now.  The whole family is
sad and mad and lost.  And I am WAY too far away to do any good at all.  I wish I
could blink myself there if only just to hold her while she cries.

Oldest son and his girlfriend are expecting a new baby.  The baby is due on May 29^th, but
as of yet, mama has had no progress towards delivery.  They were very excited to be promised an inducement date of Monday the 30^th as mama is really, really, really
READY for the baby to be born.  We were all excited too, because delivery that day ensured that most of us would be there for the birth (since it’s a holiday).  BUMMER…it’s a holiday, and docs don’t deliver planned inducements on holidays.  So now it’s pushed back.  Both oldest son and baby’s mama are frustrated beyond words.

Second son had some professor trouble in one of his college classes.  He got dinged for attendance despite good grades.  And to make things worse, his teacher had bailed on several classes herself.  He’s taking the issue up the org chart, but still, I hate when people are unfair.

Daughter in law school’s boyfriend had to have an emergency appendectomy this week…YIKES!  But he’s back home today and doing better.

Third son has come to a decision with regard to his life’s path which might bring him closer to me…that’s exciting and challenging all at the same time.  How to help and encourage without overwhelming and pushing?????

Cheerlady has some recurring knee issues and has been benched from tumbling for the time being.  Can’t get into the doctor fast enough to suit her and it’s likely that
treatment may involve a longer reprieve from tumbling than she wants to have.  I’m predicting some storms on that horizon.

Mood disordered troops have been VERY moody with the ever changing barometric pressure in the Midwest. All of the recurring cloudy and stormy days are taking a toll on several of them. And on those of us who live with them.

My sweet kids, Nat and Tyler both have health issues this week. Ty has three surgeries we’re trying to coordinate for summer  (but can’t get the docs at CMH to talk to each
other) and Nat is sick again, and clearly uncomfortable.  I HATE not being able to make it better.

Teenaged girl is about to DIE from being grounded. ..and has recently taken her discomfort out on adults who work in my house (not a good plan)…

Nurses and nannies are not playing nicely together this week, which increases the drama for everyone.

My middle sized set of very difficult kids are all ‘off the chain’ this week….one is getting blood tested to be sure she isn’t going to transmit contagious diseases to the staff person she bit through last week.  One is coming up with creative homicidal ideations.  And one is just randomly kissing people…really anyone….

The mitigating factor this week is that I got a new sealy posturpedic mattress and a fancy expensive pillow.  And it’s a good thing, because if I didn’t get some good sleep, I’m not sure I could stay a step ahead of this crowd.

mother’s day

My family was featured on a local news station in a ‘feel good’ piece done by a news reporter who I’ve known for a while through my work.  The news story aired at 10 PM on Mother’s Day.  Looking back I had pictured in my head that I was going to have one of those evenings where I can sit back and pat myself on the back (and indulge in believing my own press for a few minutes)…because it was Mother’s Day.  But that’s not exactly how it went.

Mother’s Day 2011 was actually a pretty good day for almost the whole day.  I slept late.  Randy fixed me breakfast and brought me a dozen beautiful yellow roses (my favorites).  My kids called and came by (some even brought gifts).   Emma gave me a pedicure, and dusted off the foot spa that Nathan had given me for Christmas.  I spent some quality time with my Mom, and Randy made us both lobster for dinner (because he knows I love Lobster and almost never get to eat it).  Isn’t he amazing?

But as often happens in the real world, the beautiful Mother’s Day went out with a BANG.  This is the kind of bang that only mothers of children who can’t fully love back can understand and relate to.  It was complete with drama, “You’re NOT my mother!”, and the assistance of law enforcement.  So, when I did sit down that night to watch my beautiful Mother’s Day press piece, I wondered if the police officer who’d just left my house after sharing his wisdom with me about my mistakes in parenting my teenager, might ironically catch the news….  and if he did, would he come back and apologize for the stupid stuff he’d just said to me, or would he call the station and tell them they’d gotten it all wrong?

My newly adopted daughter, age 14, has a life history which has predisposed her to meeting her own needs.  She lived with a controlling single parent who also had a mood disorder. So things were never predictable and usually not okay with her parent.  As a result, she not only struggles with thinking errors, but she also feels that in order to get what she wants she has to sneak around behind the backs of the adults in charge.  Having felt tremendously powerless for lots of her early years, the feeling of power she gets when she ‘pulls one over’ on the adults in her life is addictive.

On Saturday before Mother’s Day, this daughter had done something relatively small that irritated me.  She made a statement that was sexual in nature and patently inappropriate and had her seven year old sister repeat it because she thought it was funny.  In my experience this is pretty typical middle school behavior.  But still, it wasn’t okay (that seven year old has enough problems of her own without adding to them) and I was ticked.  So I told her she couldn’t go anywhere for the night.

After I went to bed, at some point between ten and eleven PM, she snuck out of the house.  A girl who is older (and can drive) picked her up and took her to the movie theater to meet up with her 9^th grade boyfriend, who I actually kind of like most days.  After that the group went to Wal-Mart where my 14 year old had the misfortune of being seen by her 22 year old brother.  She hi-tailed it home at that point.

On Mother’s day morning before I got up she made me a poster card and had the other kids sign it.  That was a sure sign of someone who was trying to earn some brownie points.  Unfortunately for her, when I got up I learned about the evenings escapades through the Ross grapevine.  I made sure she knew that I knew, but I didn’t directly confront her about it.   She did her best to fade into the furniture all day.  So by evening, after the bulk of the visiting family had left for home, it was time to talk. As is usually the case when I confront this daughter about some misbehavior on her part, she responded with silly and outrageous excuses.   This made me even more upset.  I don’t know about you, but I really hate being lied to. 

I had Randy remove the bedroom door knob from her door (which she frequently locks while she’s in there)  and told her that our night nurses would be looking in on her at various times throughout the night, and that if they discovered at any time that she wasn’t there, I’d asked them to immediately come wake me up.  She slammed the door.  So, I did what crazy parents do when they are at that tilting point, and I took the door right on off its hinges.

This really set her off and she pushed past me in the hallway and took off into the night.   When I couldn’t find her by calling in the yard and driving to the most likely places she might jog to, I called the police.  As the police officer was taking down her information, she made her way back into the house.  After she’d had a ‘my life sucks’ conversation with the police officer, and he then told me (in front of her) what I had done wrong in parenting her, she skulked off to bed.  When I checked on her later, she was sleeping. She’d worn herself out with all of that emotion and drama.

I, on the other hand, was fuming well into the night.   As I lay in my bed, over and over in my head I kept repeating the advice I tell other parents when they are dealing with these situations….”Quit taking it personally!!!”  “This isn’t about you, it’s about her and her history.”….Blah, blah, blah…….  It didn’t help a bit.  I was so darn mad I wanted to wring her neck.  “And how dare she muck up my Mother’s Day?  It was actually the best Mother’s Day I’ve had in years, until I tried to talk to her about HER decision to sneak out of the house in the middle of the night”.  I’m not very good at following my own advice, am I?

Eventually my blood pressure began to come down and I started thinking about how Mother’s Day is for many of my friends out there who, like me, have kids who won’t or can’t love them. (I don’t know about you, but it always makes me feel better to imagine that I’m not alone when I’m feeling sorry for myself.) I thought about the fact that most of my day had been really good, and it was possible that someone else out there had had a worse Mother’s Day than I did…. Right?

Really,  I’ve always felt blessed because my life is balanced.  Along with the kids who can’t or won’t love me, I’ve always also had kids who were securely attached and who clearly love me.  You know the kind of kids who actually feel guilty when they’ve done something that has upset me.  They make cards because they really want me to know that they care, not because they hope it will lessen the consequence for the rule they’ve just broken.  They do plenty of things that are not okay with me, but they realize that in the long run in order to preserve the quality of the relationship between us, they have to fess up, take responsibility, and be genuinely sorry. 

Having kids who love me has made it easier for me to (usually) stay objective, follow my own advice, and not take personally the lack of reciprocal love that I get from the kids who don’t love me.

And usually, over a long period of time, the kids who can’t or won’t love me eventually begin to do just that.  It doesn’t happen in my time or because I want it to.  It just happens as a natural consequence of living in close proximity and beginning to relax and rely on me for things that are needed or wanted.   They’ve allowed themselves eventually to believe that I’m not kidding around when I tell them that I’m staying forever (like it or not), and they stop thinking that today might be the day I decide to quit them.  This little string of trust doesn’t translate into a solid reciprocal loving parent/child relationship.  But it does seem to sprout some limited genuine connection.   And as they get even older, and move into adulthood, that little genuine connection has grown stronger and brought them back close to home as they’ve become parents of their own children.

When I’m not so frustrated that I’ve lost all sense of reason, I realize that if I give it the time that is necessary, (which is a whole lot longer for some of my kids than I’d like it to be), eventually that love connection will probably develop for this daughter as it has for almost all of the rest of them. 

When I’m not so frustrated that I’ve lost all sense of reason, I realize that I am a human parent, and even I can’t follow my brilliant advice all of the time.  But if I forgive myself for my humanness, then I can wake up tomorrow and try again to make the next right choice.

When I’m not so frustrated that I’ve lost all sense of reason, I can be grateful that every day is NOT Mother’s Day.  I can deflate that big balloon that is my head, and just be satisfied with who I am and the life I’ve chosen.

When I’m not so frustrated that I’ve lost all sense of reason, I can dig back into my stubborn commitment to these hard kids and decide once more that I am going to follow the example of Dory and “Keep on Swimming”… because it’s the messy action of living that gives my life color, flavor, meaning and purpose.

Misty’s legacy

Last night I had the chance to call and connect with my former foster daughter, Misty and her little brother Mark.  Misty and Mark were part of a sibling group of five kids who lived in my family for almost three years in the late nineties.  Misty was a young girl who carried a hefty burden.  Her birth mom was young, not terribly responsible, and clearly overwhelmed.  Misty, as the oldest of five siblings, was the child/parent of the family.  She desperately loved her mother, but resented her at the same time.  The kids came into care when Misty was 11 because the birth father of the youngest child had molested the kids.  Mom had failed to protect, and thus the kids were removed.

We first took placement of the four oldest kids and then got the youngest a few months later.  We didn’t anticipate that they’d be there a long time, but they were.  This group taught us many things over the years.  We really got to understand the dynamics of abuse reactive behavior within a sibling set because of these kids.  We had the most open relationship we’d ever had with a birth parent because of this group.  The mother came to our house for visits and therapy with her kids, conducted in our basement recreation room, supervised by a therapist.

I developed advanced skills in lice remediation because of these kids, and forged two of the closest relationships I’ve ever had with social workers because of these kids.  Both their first and second workers became my good friends during the time they lived with me.

Misty, as the oldest child and co-parent, eventually learned to trust me.  She allowed me to be the mom in the house and she began to relax into the role of an adolescent girl.  Misty caught up in school and began to do well.  She made friends, had birthday parties and was invited to birthday parties.  She desperately needed braces on her teeth, and we found a resource to make that happen.  When the kids were finally reunified, Misty was the least enthusiastic about the change (because she knew what kind of life she was returning to).  For more than a year after the reunification, the mother remained in touch with us.  Misty couldn’t go to daycare because she was too old, and Mark couldn’t go because he was too wild.  So we provided summer daycare the next year while she worked.  After that, a few times during her freshman year, Misty went to the school counselor and complained about chaotic home conditions on a few different occasions and asked to come to my house.  The Children’s Division investigated and made temporary safety arrangements for Misty for a few days each time. Eventually she would miss her family and return home. 

I lost touch with Misty after that.  Some time earlier this year I searched on facebook for Misty and her siblings and found a page for her mother, her sister and one brother.  I looked at their pages and saw what appeared to be a continued chaotic existence. I didn’t bother them because I figured they could find me if they were interested and didn’t want to intrude on their lives.

About two weeks ago, I got a facebook message from the kids’ mother’s former 3rd husband, whom she had met during the time I had the kids.  He told me that Misty had found me on facebook and wanted to reach out and connect.  Subsequently she sent me a message, and I called her back last night.

Misty was a child who changed the course of my life.  She touched my heart in a way that only a few kids really do.  She was wise beyond her years.  She loved her mother and wanted desperately to have  the kind of family life that she had in our home, but she also knew that wasn’t what she was going to get. The core sadness that I felt when these kids went home caused me to change the goal of the work we were doing with kids. Prior to this sibling group we’d only adopted four kids.  Fostering was our focus.  We’d adopted Robin, because she’d been with us for four years.  We’d adopted Vinnie and Kenny, because we’d wanted sons forever and they were  our gift from God.  We’d adopted Nick because he was our heart, and we’d let him go and he came back to us….it was meant to be.

We changed after Misty and her siblings left.  We felt that we were working on giving kids false hope.  We believe in reunification and we worked hard for it.  But it felt like we were setting kids up to fail by giving them stability, childhood opportunities, braces, karate lessons, etc… and then sending them back to the chaos they’d left behind which was only very minimally improved.

After that, we focused on adopting kids who would otherwise not be likely to find a forever family.  We adopted sibling groups, and we adopted older kids.  We adopted Tyler with his special medical needs. We stopped fostering kids who were going home and we brought home kids who not only weren’t going home, but weren’t going to be able to otherwise find a forever home.  That’s how we ended up with the big numbers.  And big numbers weren’t our goal.

What we realized over the next few years, was that we had a unique set of skills, forged by our fostering experiences.  There were lots of kids who needed forever homes with those skills.  So, planned or not, the numbers grew.  And without knowing or trying, Misty was responsible for 16 children over the years who became Ross kids, and found their forever family in our home.

National Lampoon Vacation: Ross Style

I was determined that I was going to get my kids out of town for a spring break trip.  I started looking in January and was really hoping to get somewhere with a beach.  I looked at Vacation Rentals By Owner  to see if I could find a home with enough space that we could rent, and I signed up for an airfare notification service to see if I could find some low priced airfare.  I was truly hoping that the sky would open up and the perfect opportunity would present itself along with the money to pay for it.

But life is not a sitcom, and we have to deal with what comes our way.  Emma’s cheer team made it to Nationals.  The competition was going to be in Disney World in February, just a few days after Raquel’s (now Nicole’s) adoption was finalized.  Carly and Nicole are both 8^th graders and Carly has aspirations to be a member of that National’s cheerleading squad for the next four years, so it seemed like a good idea to bring Carly and Nicole with Randy and I to support Emma at Disney World.  So, there went every penny of disposable income and then some.  The Disney trip was really very nice, and I think, although I can’t guarantee, that the two 8^th grade girls had a good time (even though they had to hang out with Mom and Dad).  You never know what 8^th grade girls really think until you read about it on facebook, and so far they haven’t thought that the Disney trip merited any posts.

So just a month later, it was time to put up or shut up on the idea of a spring break trip.  Without the magical beach retreat having presented itself from the sky, our option was sitting in our driveway.  We have an RV that we’ve been paying for now for several years.  We’ve taken it on a few road trips over the years, but mostly it just sits and gathers dust.  We’ve loaned it out about four times to friends and family, and those times have resulted in some minor repair work that we’ve kept up with as things have happened.   

Randy hem-hawed around about taking the RV because the gas prices are so high, and because it needs new tires, and because where would we go anyway.  But he put in for the time off at work.  The day before we left he and I had a ‘come to Jesus’ meeting where we talked about whether or not we were going to get the heck out of town and go somewhere.  We put numbers to paper and I did some online research and we decided that we could probably afford to get away for four or five days.   Randy agreed to think positively and we both decided to actually practice what I preach about setting the tone for the family by being optimistic.  If he and I could be upbeat and excited about the trip, and if we could handle what came along by keeping things in perspective ( ie: don’t sweat the small stuff), then we’d probably be making some nice family memories.  Plus, I reminded him, we both like to see and do new things.  And, we’d have five whole days together (even though there would be lots of little people with us).

So on Saturday we threw nine kids into the RV and headed south.

As we pulled out of the driveway, the newly loaded RV fridge door flew open and two gallons of milk came flying out.  The milk jugs hit the stove opposite the fridge and one of them burst at a seam sending milk all over the middle of the RV.  It was probably a full sixty seconds before someone in the RV closed his/her mouth and went to pick up the jug (steadily pulsing milk out onto the floor of the RV) and throw some towels down to soak it up.  But by the time we’d gassed up and pulled back onto the highway the milk mess was all cleaned up and the milk soaked towels had been deposited into the RV shower for the rest of the ride.

We pulled out onto the highway and before we reached the next exit, Carly started loudly looking for her black cheerleading bag.  All of the milk spill volunteers immediately began searching for the bag, and Randy quietly eased the RV off on the next exit and took a left to turn back around.  As we pulled back into the driveway, Emma (17) who had opted to stay home, was pulling out of the driveway.  She rolled her car window down and yelled out “long trip…” with a smile on her face.

The bag was located and we pulled out again, without any further milk loss.  A few hours down the road we pulled into a gas station to gas back up.  Randy had a worried look on his face when he got back into the driver’s seat.  He said, “I could hear gas leaking out as I was filling up the tank.”  We then had a little discussion about whether gas was ‘gushing’ or ‘dripping’ out from beneath the vehicle.  He thought it was more of a drip.  Having committed to an ‘optimistic’ frame of mind for this journey, we forged ahead.  Our plan was to address the issue with duct tape at the first campground.

We arrived at the first campground outside of Memphis, TN after dark.  (That’s what happens when you don’t leave until noon).  Randy found some duct tape and fixed it to the gas hose beneath the RV and announced that it looked like it was working.  We fixed dinner, took showers and settled down for the night.

The next morning we got up and headed into Memphis.  I’d done the research in advance as it was a Sunday, and I knew that the National Civil Rights Museum was open and so was Graceland.  One opened at 10AM and one opened at 1PM.  So we headed into the city to the National Civil Rights museum.  The GPS was very helpful and we found the Civil Rights Museum with no problem.  There was plenty of room in the parking lot.  Randy looked at me and said, “Are you sure they’re open?”  I was sure.  I’d checked.  So we parked, unloaded all the kids and headed over to the door.  There were a few tourists taking pictures of the outside of the Lorraine motel and our older kids joined them.  But as we approached the door, it clearly said that the museum wasn’t open until 1PM.  Oops.  Randy just shook his head at me as we herded them back to the RV for the trip over to Graceland.

Graceland was obviously open.  We parked the RV in the back of a very crowded parking lot and headed in.  Memphis is very proud of Graceland.  We waited in line for quite a while to buy some very expensive tour tickets.  With the tickets we were able to visit Elvis’ airplanes, his car museum, and several other little attractions along with the Graceland tour.  We also got a nice little audio tour thingamabob that you put on as you walk through the mansion so that you know what you’re looking at. 

Because the wait was so long for the bus that takes you across the street to the mansion, we had plenty of time to go tour the airplanes on our side of the road.   The kids were pretty impressed with the airplanes and the little girls were hoping they were going to get to go for a ride.  The best they got was the eventual ride on the bus over to Graceland. 

If you haven’t ever done the Graceland tour, it is worth the investment.  It’s a really cool thing to see the home as it was when Elvis last lived there.  There is plenty of family memorabilia and the audio tour helps you imagine what it was like to be a member of Elvis’ circle of friends.  We got so comfortable there a couple of times that both Matt (8) and Lauren (3) had to be recovered from the roped off living area of the house because they were making themselves at home.

 After touring the memorial gardens, where Elvis is buried alongside his parents and grandmother, my son Jacob(13) asked a Graceland employee why Elvis is buried in his yard.  The employee detailed a story about how he’d been buried in a cemetery down the road but some folks had tried to dig him up, so the city had given special permission to move him to Graceland.  That was my son Christian’s (18) favorite part of the tour.

After Graceland, we headed back out to the RV in the parking lot to fix some sandwiches for lunch.  While the rest of us ate, Randy got back under the RV with a roof patching kit and replaced the duct tape with roof patch.  When he was satisfied that it was working, we hit the road for Nashville. 

The campground in Nashville had a ‘full hook-up’ available, which meant that we could run the electricity, the water, and drain the tanks into the sewer.  Unfortunately, we discovered that the potty drain was clogged.  Apparently some of the kids had used the toilet as we were driving down the highway and had not had water to flush the waste down, so the line had become clogged.  This wasn’t an immediate problem because the tank wasn’t full, but it was definitely something to keep track of.  Randy did his best to bang around on the tank and hose to try to open the drain back up.  No luck.

The next day we headed into Nashville.  Our goal was to see the Country Music Hall of Fame and the Grand Ole Opry.  The kids didn’t know what the Grand Ole Opry was, but Randy and I grew up watching Hee Haw on Sunday nights and we wanted to see it…so they were going along for the ride.

We pulled the RV into the lot at the Country Music Hall of Fame, in downtown Nashville, directly across from the football stadium where the Tennessee Titans play.  Clearly the museum was open, and despite the drain problem and the rain that was falling, we were looking forward to the tour.  Matt insisted on bringing a pink and orange Dora guitar that had made its way into the RV before we left town.  (For those of you who don’t know Matt, he has mild MR in combination with ODD and ADHD. He knew we were going to a music place and he was going to be equipped. We’ve learned to pick our battles with Matt, and this wasn’t going to be one of them). We found our way in and discovered that the CMHF also had an audio tour component.  This time the audio machine is a long rectangular wand, and it doesn’t hang around your neck.  You simply push the correct number into the console and hold the speaker up by your ear. 

The CMHF is a beautiful modern building with a huge multi-story atrium in the front.  We bought our tickets and headed to the elevator which took us to the second floor where the tour starts.  The tour gave a great deal of history including the roots of country music in gospel , in Irish folk songs, etc…  We took our time walking through the tour slowly and listening to the audio explanations as we went.  We lost track of the kids, but figured they were there with us.  Toward s the end of the first floor there were two cars. One was a limo belonging to Elvis, and the other was a car that belonged to some country star who had covered the inside of the car with silver dollars.  It had gun handles on the doors, a saddle console on the inside between the seats, etc…. Wow!

About the end of the first floor, Matt and the little girls were getting pretty bored.  All four of them began to protest, a little loudly, that they were ready to go.  We steered them to the staircase and headed down to the first floor where the second half of the exhibit was.  That part had a special feature about the Williams family and the displays that included singers we were familiar with.  Before we were halfway through that exhibit it became abundantly clear that Matthew was DONE.  He was now very loudly protesting that he was ready to go.  Eyes were turning our direction, our older kids were distancing themselves from us to the best of their ability, and I was contemplating other uses for the audio tour wand.

We wound down quickly and headed toward the exit.  By now, my optimistic spirit was waning.  I was frustrated with Matt and the little girls, tired and hungry.  I told Randy I wasn’t having another lunchmeat sandwich and suggested we load up and go find a Denny’s somewhere.  To my surprise he suggested we have lunch in the lovely café in the CMHF atrium.  So I figured…what the heck.  At least with food in their mouths, the littles would be quieter. So  we sat down and ordered a Country Music Hall of Fame feast.

After dispensing some medication, we then headed to find the Grand Ole Opry.  However, we discovered that all of the flooding we’d seen from the highways had significantly impacted Nashville.  The GOO was almost inaccessible with big fences all around.  We couldn’t even get close enough for a good picture.  It was flooded and in the process of repair.  And another one bites the dust.

We pulled out of Nashville and headed north.  We’d decided to try to shorten our drive back home (and heading north would mean that the big drive home would be several hours less).  We ended up settling on Kentucky cave country north of Bowling Green.  We found a really nice campground and pulled in with plenty of time to get settled and fix dinner.   It was raining, but other than that, the kids’ cabin was fancier (had it’s own shower) and we felt our spirits rising. 

The mood lightened even further, when after additional banging, the poop line was unclogged.

The next day we headed to a cave just up the road where there was an underground river.  There were actually boat tours of the cave and that sounded really exciting.  But…..you guessed it…the sign on the door said, “Closed”.  Fortunately there was a national park with a cave a short drive away, so we headed there. 

Mammoth Cave is the largest cave in the world.  Researchers have charted more than three hundred miles of underground connected passages and they still have plenty left to explore.  We signed up for the next tour and spent the next two hours hiking up and down very steep steps in the world’s largest cave.  Other than slowing the line down, we didn’t cause too much of a stink at the cave, and the kids really thought it was cool.

The next drama was our wrong turn in the national park trying to make our way back to the highway.  It took a while to catch because the GPS satellite couldn’t find us.  But eventually it did, and we got turned around.  We headed back west with a goal of reaching Illinois by dinner.  It was a late dinner.

We drove several hours through Kentucky, Indiana and Illinois.  The devastation that was evident from the flooding in that area was really overwhelming.  There were farms all over the place where the house was out in the middle of a lake, accessible only by boat or a tractor with really big wheels.  It seemed clear that people were still living in those houses, when we saw their cars parked out by the highway on the side of the road. 

Because we’d been in the middle of nowhere, and there were no interstates to take us directly back west, we wound around on smaller highways through lots of small towns.  I love that stuff because of the sociologist in me.  Randy, on the other hand, was not excited about driving ten miles behind the school bus dropping kids off one house at a time.

But eventually we got to Illinois, the land of Lincoln, and set up camp for the night.  There was really no major drama until the morning when we noticed that the front of the RV looked funny.  The roof of the RV was peeling back in one spot about the middle of the overhang above the driver’s seat.  Yikes!

Randy borrowed the campground ladder and climbed up to take a look.   I pretended that life was beautiful and started reading a new James Patterson book. The kids argued behind me and played on the laptop, which was still connected to the internet while we were in the campground.    About an hour later he came in and announced that he’d fixed the roof.  The caulk and the screws that the campground guy had let him use seemed to be doing the trick, so we took off toward home.  It was going to be a five hour drive from there, heading through St. Louis and then back home.

I got a nice picture of the arch coming in from Illinois as we passed back through St. Louis.  But shortly after that, as we got to the small towns on the other side, we started to hear a thump, thumping on the roof.  Randy pulled into a small gas station on the other side of Warrenton.

Just as we pulled in an old man in a red car that looked like an old Volkswagon Jetta with big red lights sticking up like Mickey Mouse ears on the back of the car, pulled in beside us.  He rolled down his window and tried to start a conversation with me, but either I was tired or what he was saying didn’t make any sense to me at all.  So I just referred him to talk to my husband, who was already walking into the gas station to see if the guy who worked there had a ladder.

It was clear that the roof patch job wasn’t working and the whole front of the roof of the RV was about to go.  Just about that time I was due on a conference call with the Director of the Children’s Division, their legislative liaison, someone from the Division of Legal Services, the associate CD director, the policy guy from the Partnership for Children and the ED of the Missouri Coalition of Children’s Agencies to talk about a foster care/adoption bill that was gaining momentum in the House.

So desperately seeking some quiet, and noticing that it might take Randy and the two old guys at the gas station a while to figure out what to do about the roof, I headed into the station where the wind noise would be reduced.  I traded wind noise for a very annoying chime that sounded every time a car entered the gas station driveway.  But I got about a half hour into the call before Randy almost drove off and left me there.  He’d pulled the broken roof off, screwed down the insulation , and decided that would just have to do until we got home.  So I hopped into the RV and gave my children the biggest evil eye they have ever seen.  They were silent for the whole next hour as we drove down I-70 and I finished up that conference call.

We pulled back into our driveway with a plan to unload the RV, figure out a way to protect the roof from water until we could get the RV in to be looked at, and try to get the kids to bed at a decent hour.  Before we’d even gotten out of the RV, our friendly house-calling psychiatrist putted up the driveway in his car.  Randy looked at me and said, “REALLY????  It’s Dr. Stanley night????”  I just smiled and shrugged. 

By the time I got done with Dr. Stanley the vehicle was unloaded, the laundry was piled to the ceiling in the laundry room and the kids were fed and through their baths.  We even made it in time for Christian to get dropped off at his church choir practice. 

For those of you who are a facebook friend of mine, the pictures are all posted on my mobile uploads.  It’s all true… I swear.  You can’t make this stuff up.

I’m BACK!!!!!

Dear Blog Friends,

I apologize for an inexcusable period of absence.  Lots has been going on in my world and other than writing that has been absolutely necessary to my employment, I have had almost NO time to write for myself.

A quick update on things in my world:

• Christmas was good.  We were abundantly blessed and had a really pretty terrific time with the kids and grand kids.  One little episode of almost catching the house on fire (Christmas morning) was the only drama of the day, and really that was my fault.   I decided after spending weeks getting everything ready for my kids to have that ‘abundant’ Christmas, that on Christmas morning they were going to take care of us (the parents).  So I bought the makings for a great breakfast and told them that they were to cook for us. 

 

They took me up on the challenge and got up early to start cooking.  The drama came in when they attempted to cook bacon the way that Randy does.  He always cooks bacon in the oven on a cookie sheet (with ridges), because he can cook a whole lot more at one time doing it that way, and we have a whole lot of kids to feed all at one time.  Unfortunately they chose a cookie sheet without  ridges and as you might expect a grease fire ensued that engulfed the oven in flames and quickly filled the whole house with smoke (momentarily interrupting our festivities).

Lucky for us, Nick (21) is quite experienced with grease fires (for reasons that are obvious to all of us who know him well).  So Nick quickly put baking soda on the fire and the immediate danger passed.  Randy then got to spend half the morning cleaning baking soda/smoke mess out of the oven.  He finished just in time for our extended family to arrive for the afternoon celebration.  Whoooooo!

• After the holiday, my work life got a little crazy for awhile.   I returned to the office to find that two of my staff members had decided to move on.  One of our licensing workers was moving into clinical social work full time, and our long-time development director (my good friend) was moving on to pursue new challenges.  About a week after that, our office manager also announced that she was transitioning to working for our campus partner, Drumm Farm, full-time.  So I now had the challenge of finding three new employees for key positions in my small agency. 

 

This was no small challenge.  First the enormous sense of responsibility that I feel as the Director was indescribably heavier with the changes pending, and second I had accepted a second part time position just before the end of the year working for a national adoption advocacy organization (the North American Council on Adoptable Children), that I knew would take me out of town for at least a little bit of time each month.  I started that position on January 1.  So the timing of the two couldn’t have been much worse.

Thank God for good friends and good co-workers.  It took a while but we freakin figured it out.  After two days of feeling sorry for myself, I pulled myself out of my funk and came up with a plan.  I decided that this challenge was actually a great opportunity to re-visit my vision for MFCAA and to launch headfirst into the second decade of its existence in a planful and still progressive way.  So I engaged the services of my talented sister (who is a business and marketing consultant) , and my awesome co-workers and have spent the last two months drafting a plan for the future.   I still have a whole lot of pieces of the plan to flesh out, but we’re moving in the right direction.

We’ve hired staff to replace two of our emptied positions and are VERY  happy with what the new folks bring to our team.  We’ve re-organized our internal staff as well, and with one exception (that we’re working to resolve) we feel like we’ve got everyone working in the area that they are best matched to handle.  This week I conducted a second round of development interviews.  We had a minor setback last month when the person we’d hired to take our development position bailed on us at the last minute, but the extra time has given me a chance to really clarify what it is I need in that position. So, as is always the case, things have worked out the way they should.

My second job started with a big bang, when I realized on my first trip to one of my states (Texas), that they were facing a legislative budget crisis that rivals California.  But the parent advocates in Texas have been very welcoming to me and to NACAC and it wasn’t long before we came up with a strategy to bring NACAC’s resources to help with the challenges they are facing.  Next month we’re hosting a national advocacy training in Austin and will work closely with a group of Texas parent advocates to create a comprehensive advocacy strategy that engages all of their potential allies into an effort to save critical services for Texas kids and families.  I’ll also get a chance to work with my Colorado parents while we’re in Austin, and expect to be spending a little time there this spring as well.

My NACAC co-workers have been tremendously welcoming and patient with me, as the newbie on the block.  They have been very supportive of my efforts in Texas and have stepped up to the plate in a big way to help me help them. 

I feel tremendously lucky to be doing two jobs that I absolutely love!!!!  Both are challenging and both provide me with plenty of opportunities for personal and professional growth, and both are strongly focused on making things better for abused and neglected kids.  It’s great to get paid to do what you love.

• The NACAC job has taken a little longer for my family to get used to, than me.  The traveling necessary for the NACAC job is not something I’ve had to do often in my MFCAA job.  So, for Randy and the kids, getting used to me being gone for a few days each month has been a little rough.  They’ve handled it beautifully, don’t get me wrong.  But it has taken some time to get used to.  I’ve been really grateful during this time that Liz (my 26 year old daughter) has been very gracious about stepping up and helping her Dad to manage the mob. 

So, here we finally are in March.  We’ve just returned from a National Lampoon Spring Break RV Road Trip (my next post), and are back to school and work.  The NACAC trip for March was a very short one, and things at MFCAA are finally starting to settle back down.  The winter is making its way out.  The storm has passed.   It feels like it’s time for me to get back to some writing on this blog.   I hope you’ll come along with me for the ride that 2011 will undoubtedly be.

Sincerely,

Lori

I’m thankful for…..

On face book, lots of folks have been putting daily notes recognizing something/someone they are thankful for this month. This fits with our Ross family thankfulness project (which we’ve fallen behind on this year), in which we send thank you notes to one person for each day of the month.

So, instead of putting this on face book daily, I’m going to write a blog post about things that I’m thankful for this month.  This list is not in order of importance, but rather in order of whatever comes to my mind on this particular chilly November day.

1. I’m thankful that Randy and I have been selected this month to adopt our 14 year old foster daughter, Raquel, who is a beautiful young woman with a future full of promise.  This month she has started to just randomly throw out the word “Mom” when she speaks to me.  It’s the first time she’s called someone ‘mom’ in her life, and it’s a truly beautiful thing to hear.
2. I’m thankful that most of Raquel’s birth family is going to continue to be an integral part of her future, because they are the keepers of her history and her source of strength in life up to this point.  We look forward to getting to know them even better than we do right now.
3. I’m thankful that my son Nathan, and my daughter, Liz, enjoyed a unique opportunity to educate three hundred people at the MFCAA conference about young people in the foster care system, and the experiences of children whose parents choose to become foster parents.  The opportunity opened a whole lot of doors for Nathan’s public speaking aspirations, and was a nice boost for Liz, who shared a perspective folks don’t typically get to hear.
4. I’m thankful that I got to meet a young man named Christian, who had the courage to speak to me about what was on his heart during the conference.  These random connections are daily evidence to me of God’s work in my life.
5. I’m thankful that my family didn’t think I was crazy when I spoke to them about Christian following the conference.
6. I’m thankful that Shianne is still back home with us as I write this post, and is slowly making some strides in controlling herself with constant supervision.  I believe that the medication change has made an impact, that I am hopeful we’ll see clearly when the negative impact of the time at the hospital (environmental) is reduced by consistent care at home.
7. I’m thankful that I got to spend some time with my dad and two of my siblings that I haven’t spent time with in a very long time earlier this month.  I am impressed with the kind of people they are and hope to have a chance to spend time with them again in the future.
8. I’m thankful that I’ve heard from Catina twice this month. For the first time in several years, she wished me a happy birthday.  I feel hopeful that we might have an opportunity to work on mending that relationship.
9. I’m thankful that I heard from ALL of my children on my birthday this year, except Damion.  And I got some pretty nice presents from some of them too!
10. I’m thankful that I got to spend some time with my granddaughter, Jasmine, on her birthday (via the phone) this year.  I have missed TOO much time with my Florida kids and grandkids and enjoy every second of the time I get with them now.
11. I’m thankful that all of my cheerleaders, Emma, Carly, Keyonna, Shianne, Katie, Molly and Bria, still have a place to learn their hip and cool cheerleading skills despite some significant issues with the company this fall.
12. I’m thankful that both Emma and Carly have won first place in competitions this month.  Winning isn’t everything, but it sure is nice to feel like a winner from time to time.  I love that experience for my kids.
13. I’m thankful that I got to re-live my theatrical past by watching Rae performing in Beauty and the Beast this month.  It was so much fun!
14. I’m thankful for the beautiful family pictures that were taken earlier this month by a foster parent friend of mine.  I can’t wait to share them with lots of you.
15. I’m thankful for the miraculous recovery of the son of a friend of mine who looked like he might not make it for a few days there.  I happen to love my friend very much and would have been very sad if things hadn’t taken a turn for the better.
16. I’m thankful for my wonderful friends Mary and Lois who have become skilled advocates helping families to solve problems for their precious children.  Their dedication has allowed me to get other things done that needed my attention and made an incredible difference for hundreds of children this month (as every month).  I’m equally thankful for the rest of the MFCAA staff who have worked incredibly hard to do the work of this important agency.
17. I’m thankful for my many sisters (and brothers) in parenting children who have suffered abuse and neglect.  Your selfless efforts to impact children’s lives inspire me each day of my life.  And your friendship and faith in me is humbling.   If I listed you all here this list would go into eternity.  Each one of you is more important to me than you’ll ever know.
18. I’m thankful for my mom and my sister, Karen, who have continued to be the most amazing women in the world.  They have brought me heartbeat cd’s , made pumpkin bread, launched websites for members of my family, and rubbed the feet of angry and out of control children…all because they love me.  What in the world would I ever do without them?
19. I’m thankful every night this month that I’ve gotten the chance to lay down next to my sweet amazing husband, who continues to inspire me with his devotion to me and to this insane family of ours.  He is the absolute best partner I could have asked for in this life journey of mine.  What amazing grace it is to be his wife.
20. I’m thankful for a church community in which folks have stepped up through an angel program to provide volunteers to spend an hour on Sunday mornings helping some of my younger kids to be able to attend Sunday school classes while we’re in church.  They are really enjoying the opportunity to learn about God in a loving and welcoming environment.  (I am especially thankful for whoever is matched with Shianne each week….that person deserves a special blessing from up above!!!)
21. I’m thankful for the opportunity for treatment and the distance I currently enjoy from my son Damion.  While that may sound harsh, in reality I believe he is getting help that he needs, and it is actually a blessing that I’m not interacting with him now, as I parent better when I am not in the throes of anger and frustration.
22. I am thankful for the opportunities which are presenting themselves lately for MFCAA to grow new sources of support and assistance in the business community.  There have been some really awesome folks who have started to take an interest in the work we do, and who are willing to use their resources to help us do what we do to help families.
23. I’m thankful for face book which has given me the chance to stay connected and re-connect with many friends and family members from my life who I don’t see or interact with daily.  I love the chance to check in daily and hear about people’s lives and see the beautiful pictures of their families. 
24. I’m thankful for the gift of writing, and the encouragement of my friend, Barb Bocklage, who told me to start a blog and just write about anything.  This blog has given me the chance to blow off steam and count my blessings.  Writing it is therapeutic and when I hear from people that something I’ve written touches them I am doubly blessed.
25. I’m thankful that my son Vinnie, and his girlfriend, Nikki are expecting my fifteenth grandchild next spring.  I looked at a beautiful newborn at church last Sunday and got to imagine myself a few months from now snuggling another beautiful grandbaby.  And I’m grateful for the fourteen beautiful grandchildren I get to love on in person and from afar.  Who ever knew that being a Fwama was going to be so cool?
26. I’m thankful that my son Kenny is working hard at school.  Despite the challenges, he’s hanging in there.  And on top of that, he takes the time to let me know that he loves me. 
27. I’m thankful that my daughter, Jessica, is getting the chance to be part of something really important in her journey through law school, by helping get a wrongfully convicted man the justice he deserves via the Midwest Innocence Project.  I’m glad she cares enough to use her time to help another human being.
28. I’m thankful that every day this month (so far) I’ve had the opportunity to get up and try again to make the time I have count.  I’m filled with purpose and passion, and the chance each day to use those gifts to do things that matter.  Even though I often go to bed exhausted, and sometimes feel discouraged, it is my true privilege to enjoy the chance to live my calling.
29. I’m thankful for a sense of humor that allows me to praise God for the fact that my stealers aren’t very smart, rather than curse Him for the burden of kids that steal. That same sense of humor helps me keep a balanced perspective in which I recognize that most of the challenges I face are truly ‘small stuff’.  And because He is a generous God, I thank Him for an abundance of friends to laugh with…making that sense of humor so much sweeter.
30. I’m thankful for the gift of satisfaction.  I have enough.  I am not hungry, or cold, or lost.  I don’t seek what I cannot find.  My life is full, busy and meaningful.  I have everything I could possibly need and most of what I want.  I am truly blessed and I know it.  As the t-shirts say, “Life is Good”.