The Things They Learn in School

I love it when the kids finally realize school is place to learn and not just to play and socialize. For example: During the first few months of kindergarten the kids come home and say they colored or played with play dough. They got to sing with the music teacher and play ball in gym class and everyone is their best friend. But after a few months they start to ask how something is spelled or what letter makes a certain sound. Then they learn what a rhyming word is, and they begin to rhyme every word they hear. This was the case with with "P" recently. We were in the hair room combing out the snarls after her nightly shower and she begins to tell me rhyming words. Cat and rat, dog and frog, house and mouse. I tell her that is great so she continues. Log and dog, kith and pith. "Wait a minute you can't say that word it's naughty", I told her. She immediately bursts into tears and begins trying to talk through her sobs. "I'm sorry mom you never told me pith was a naughty word, why didn't you tell me pith was a naughty word, if I knew pith was a naughty word I wouldn't have said pith"? I told her it okay (trying not to laugh), but never say it again. She immediately stopped crying and through her lisp she said, "Thit now I have to find another word the rhyme with kith". And so we start again!

I Am Gay (only sometimes)

This is a little story about my Jackson. Besides being cute as a button he is very funny without even knowing it. The other night he was getting undressed and ready to hop into the shower when he looked at me and said," I love you, you're the best mom ever", (something he says to me all the time). I told him I loved him too and proceeded to wash his hair. With a washcloth over his face he yells, "Mom I love you even when your gay". To which I replied, "Jackson I'm not gay". He said," Well sometimes you are". So I asked him if he knew what gay meant and he said, " Well sure it means your happy". So I told him I guess I am gay sometimes. Then he says, "I was changing the channel on the t.v. when I saw this guy on there and he says to his girlfriend, by the way I'm gay". He says," Then the girl starts crying, why would she cry when he is so happy"? I just told him some people just can't stand it when other people are happy!!

Mine "IS" Bigger Than Yours

SHINY!!

If you would have told me 30 years ago a new appliance would have gotten me excited I would have laughed in your face. New clothes, shoes and a good set of acrylic nails now that excited me but a refrigerator, hardly. But, after all I am my Mother's daughter and a new fridge it is. A magnificent rectangular stainless steel power box with 31 cubic feet of storage. Behind the the sleek styled french doors is enough light to illuminate the kitchen like a beautiful array of well placed Christmas bulbs. Filtered water at your finger tips, humidity controlled crisper's and a control panel to die for, placed directly beside the elegantly designed ice and water dispenser. A large glide-n-serve temperature controlled compartment to place serving trays and meats. The kids can no longer cool the entire house while trying to decide what to eat because of a strategically placed door alarm. But the most exciting part is the bottom drawer styled freezer. No more standing in the fridge to reach something on the top shelf which means no more wiping foot prints out of it. Oh how did I become so lucky? Nici said it best, "It's like opening the doors to heaven". But I'm not stopping here, next is the matching gas range with convection oven, then maybe a dishwasher, microwave or even a shiny new hand mixer. Oh the appliances are limitless.

Look at all the storage!

pretty

The End Of Summer

On September 6, 2011 I put my "baby" on the bus for her first day of kindergarten. It was wonderful in a sad kind of way. The last time I am going to wait in anticipation to see if she would come running back or climb on the bus leaving mama. As I looked for her in all the windows I saw the tops of heads and little finger trying desperately to pull themselves up enough to peek out. How many moms were crying and worried this morning hoping their baby would be ok on their first day of school? Well not me. This was my 15th time and I have become an old hat at it, actually a well worn old hat. I know not all my kids were here for their "first official day of  school", but it was the same. Hoping they fit in, make lots a friends and treat everyone how they want to be treated.
I do remember the first time I put Erik on the bus. He waved as he was going up the steps and I tried to find him as he took his seat. All I could see was a tuft of blonde hair. He was too small to be riding that big bus. What happens if he falls off the seat and gets hurt or some big kids picks on him or when he gets to school he gets lost and can't find the right classroom? Or maybe he falls asleep and gets left on the bus and has to stay there all day, I wouldn't know until it was time for him to come home. My heart was racing, God what did I do? I just threw my baby to the wolves. So p.j.'s and all I hopped in my car and raced to the school just in time see him getting off the bus. He survived his first bus ride but I almost didn't.  I thanked God for getting him safely to school then I cried. Not sure if I cried because he was safe or I was going to miss him or if I realized this was his first day of independence. He was officially a big boy and I don't think I really liked it.  He wasn't going to need me the same way ever again. My heart was broke.
I paced and worried the whole 3 hours he was gone that day, hoping he would get home as safe as he got to school.
As the bus pulled up to driveway to let him off I was right there to greet him with a big smile praying he didn't see the pathetic mess I was. He descended the bus with a look of pride right into my arms. "Mom I missed you today but I had fun". That's all I needed to hear, he missed me.
I have to be honest that wasn't the last time I cried putting one of my babies on the bus for their first day of school. But as the years went by I got better. I didn't cry this year, actually I did a little jig. Home alone for 5 days, 4 hours a day for the next 91/2 months. Yipee!!

We Have Arrived

Pulling into the motel was by far the best part of the day. I could see some of my family had already arrived and were enjoying the lake and out door seating area. Looks pretty nice I thought , the kids are gonna love it. So as I parked I told them to remain in the car until I got the keys to all the rooms then I would let them go swimming.  Which for most of them would be their first time swimming in a lake. Because 4 of them have had previous ear surgery swimming in a lake with all those microscopic amoeba floating around wasn't a good idea. So I bought earplugs and decided one week-end wouldn't hurt. As I entered the office I was met by a seeming lovely older lady who was very welcoming. I told her I had 6 rooms on reserve and gave her my name. She asked for my Visa and gave me 6 room keys. As I was signing the authorization for 775.00 to be charged on my account she looked at me, raised one eyebrow and said, "If your children don't behave you will be asked to leave but your money will stay here". I was taken aback and if I could have gotten another 6 rooms elsewhere I would have told her to f*** off right then and there. But because there were no other rooms available I just said, "My children are well behaved but they are children", and I walked out of the office.
I was seething as I got back into the car to park by the rooms, but keep my mouth shut for fear Steve would go in and have it out with the witch. We found all the rooms and started assigning them, 2 little kids 2 adults kids to each room. As we entered the rooms we found their "air conditioners" to be cheap box fans that fell over when you turned them on. The bathrooms had mold in the tubs and the shower heads spit water at 20 second intervals. The carpets were all lumpy and wet and each room had it's own welcoming committee, a very large family of mosquitoes waiting for their dinner to arrive. As I opened the door to room 14 I notice the room was dirty, unmade beds, dirty towels and defiantly not vacuumed in a long time. So I went back to office gave the old hag the key and politely told her the room was dirty. She apologized and said it would be cleaned immediately. Now this was all the interaction I had with the office during the entire week-end, never saw the woman again thank God.
We had great time at the wedding and the kids enjoyed the swimming but I was still very pissed off that this woman had made such a comment to me.  I couldn't wait til check-out time!
Sunday morning after getting everything packed into the vehicles and once again counting heads, I told my family what she had said and that I was gonna have a little chat with her upon leaving.
With 6 room keys in hand I opened the office door to see that smiling old b**** looking at me. I told her if I could have gotten rooms some place else I would have left the night we got there due to her remarks she made to me. She said," I didn't say it like that". I told her it didn't matter how she said it she should have never made that remark to me. She didn't know me or my kids. To which she accused me of being rude to her all week-end. I said, "I haven't seen your ass all week-end". She told me to watch my mouth. To which I replied,"EFF-you b**** and your place is a dump with your pissed stained mattresses and stinky room". And I left, but not before I yelled out the window of my truck, "This place is a dump, f***-you", as I was flipping her off.
Now I know my behavior was totally inappropriate considering I did have small children in my car but she messed with the wrong woman. Don't ever think because I have lots of children that they are automatically going to misbehave and even if they do don't threaten me. Cause at the end of the day they are all mine and they are all perfectly children.

Our Journey

The weekend of July 17th my nephew Ben married his longtime sweetheart Kelly. They live in Houghton Lake so we had to travel 120 miles to the wedding. We decided to make a short vacation out of it. First I had to find us all a place to stay and by us I mean Steve and myself, the 9 kids living at home and the kids living outside the home plus their significant others totaling 20. I wanted us all to stay together so we could enjoy each others company. I started making calls, the first 5 places I called were booked. Evidently this was not the only wedding in Houghton Lake that weekend. Finally my darling nephew gave us the name of a quaint motel right on the lake with beach access for the kids to play. I checked out their web sight and it looked beautiful, so I made the call to Korbinski's Lake View Motel. Yes they had 6 available room for the weekend we needed, the price was right and the desk associate sounded very nice. So I booked them, this was going to be fun having all but 1 of my kids there and the rest of my immediate family. Kinda like Christmas but with no snow! So the packing began.
Now the average American family with 2.5 children can pack for a 2 night stay in 1 suitcase and maybe a small accessory bag. That unfortunately is not the case with the Hanson clan. Just making sure everyone has shoes and they are a matching set is a major undertaking. The kid's idea of packing is emptying the dressers into a backpack and making sure there is still room for all the hand held video game systems. If that doesn't all fit the clothes get threw out onto the floor and their most cherished games take the place. So I must pack for everyone, which means I have to get all the laundry done because it is inevitable that someones something that they must take is dirty. First we must go to the attic and retrieve 5 suitcases, 2 duffel bags, 2 coolers and a couple of large Rubbermaid container. In them I must pack for the kids 32 pair of underwear, 16 pairs of socks, 8 pairs of jean, 8 jackets, 32 shirts, 24 pairs if shorts, 2 dresses, 8 pairs of tennis shoes, 8 pairs of sandals/flip-flops, 8 swim suits, 8 beach towels and 3 floatys. Then it's off to the bathroom for toothpaste, toothbrushes, shampoo & cream rinse, hair brushes & combs, pony holders, hair spay and gel and the hair dryer. After all the suitcases and duffel bags are packed I have to fill the coolers with hot dogs, burger, lunch meat, snacks, pop, water, fruit and condiments. The the Rubbermaid containers get the chips, paper plates, cups, napkins, bread and buns. Oh and the main staples peanut butter and 2 different kind of jelly.then it's a first-aid kit, Tylenol and meds for those who take them every day. By the time I'm done packing I need a vacation to recoup to go on vacation.
After numerous checks of all the doors and windows we load into 2 rather large vehicles and take role call. We count and recount the number of excited kids to make sure none of the neighbors threw a few of their kid in. I can just hear them, "Hey the Hanson's are going out of town kids, go pack, don't eat too much and call them mom and dad, they'll never notice". The heck I won't, a couple of kids that only fight between themselves and not with the rest certainly can't belong to us, nice try though. Then we are off on a 120 mile journey that will take us 3 hours due to all the potty breaks and the I'm thirstys. Now this is where the Serenity Prayers comes in.

FOR MY CHILDREN

When I was a kid I just couldn't wait to grow up. I wanted to be able to do as I please and make all my own decisions. Then one day I heard my parents discussing taxes and decided I was glad I was a kids so I didn't have to pay taxes and go to the poor house. As I got older and learned a bit more about taxes and the fact I would not really have to move to "the poor house", I once again decided I couldn't wait to be an adult. I was so tired of the adults in my life telling me what I could and could not do. Being an adult meant all the freedom in the world, I could do as I please, sleep till I wanted to get up, eat candy for dinner if I wanted too and for the life of me I never understood why I needed to graduate from high school. When was I ever going to need to know what order the presidents were in or where New Zealand was. This was freedom I yearned for and eventually I got it. I had got my life long dream, I was an adult. I could do as pleased when I pleased and with whom I pleased. This was going to be great, or so I thought.
First off I needed a job. I had to buy the candy I so desperately wanted to eat for dinner. And the clothes I thought magically appeared in my closet or the gas in my car and the insurance on it. Then there was this small need I had, a place to live. So the house payments began along with the gas and electric followed by the water and phone bills. Not far behind was furniture and linen, pot and pans and dishes and all the stuff I took for granted living with my parents. Then came the kids and all the things kids need and most of what they want.
So here I was an adult but now I could tell them what to do. Woohoo!! This was gonna be great. I was the adult in their lives and I could tell them what, when, how and who. So first things first, what was the best diapers, best formula, nicest clothes, education toys? Educational toys, what was I thinking, where did that come from?  Oh well, carry on. Best preschool, best teachers, well balanced meals (which meant no candy for dinner). Then it hit me, I want the best for my kids just like my parents wanted for me. I want them to be good people, to rely on them selves, to make smart choices, get a good education and treat others exactly how they wanted to be treated. To voice their opinions but do it with respect, don't do anything that you wouldn't be embarrassed to tell their parents about and to love just as we love them.
Sometimes no matter how hard we as parents try not all children accept the guidance we try to give them. We joke about making their lives miserable, but what we are really trying to do is save them from hurt, disappointments and heart ache. I don't personally know a parent who wants their children to learn from "the school of hard knocks", but sometimes it's inevitable. Try as hard as we can some are not as receptive as others. So all we can do is pray and hope some of the things we taught them as children have stuck somewhere in the back of their minds waiting for the right time to emerge.

The Joys of Summer

"Have a good summer"! Can you believe that's what the bus driver said to me this morning as she was picking up my kids on the last day of school. What is she nuts, have a good summer, yeah did she even know who she was talking too. Now if I were boarding a plane to Hawaii or England maybe she could say that, but summer vacation with 11 kids.....please pray for me.
It's not like when I was a kid, we found things to do. We were never board, never sat in the house whining or my parents found something for us to do. Like clean your room, do the dishes, match socks or worst yet read a book. We didn't have Wii, PS1,2 or 3, there was no cable T.V. nor did we have a computer. The only thing we had was an imagination and a bike and for a few summers we got to play on the soap box derby car my dad and brother made after the race was done.
So one summer my brother Carl and his friends decided they wanted a bicycle for 2. So they took 2 of our bikes removed the front tire from one and hooked the front forks on the back of the other bike. A bicycle built for 2 with 3 wheels. Now that was using your imagination.
 I remember the summer they were building new houses in the beloved field behind our home, the field where we played all the time. We needed something to do, so we asked the builder if we could have some scrap wood to build a fort. He said yes anything in a pile we could take after they were done work for the day. They sure were surprised the next morning to see what a great job we had done on our fort. It was made from their prime plywood and 2x4's. Hey it was in a pile, a nice stacked neat pile but a pile. He was talking to kids he needed to be more specific.
On hot summer days they would have open swim at the high school. So we would grab our swim suits, towels, 25 cents and walk, yes walk to the high school to swim. In order to swim in the deep end and jump off the diving board you had to swim the width of the pool and back. Those were the days.
In the evenings most of the neighborhood kids would gather at our house for a game of kick the can. We lived on a 3 house block so it worked. This was the only time we could leave our yard after the street light came on.
Then there was the time Carl and I decided to dance on the neighbors work car. Man did we get in trouble. The guy came home for lunch so while he was eating we were dancing. Mom told us to apologize, Carl did but I would not. I had taken dance lessons and thought I was pretty good so I was not apologizing for my wonderful talent. He got to go back outside to play, I had to spend the rest of the day in my room. Did I mention his work car was a police cruiser? OK scrap that one.
I remember the time Carl and I, we were probably 6 and 7, decided to follow the neighbor boys on an adventure, we ended up coming home in a police cruiser. Their adventure was breaking into a vacant house. OK scrap this one too.
Anyway the kids today feel the need to be constantly entertained, what ever happened to using your imagination? I used mine and look how well I turned out!!

Americas Favorite Past time.

Oh the glory days of summer and it hasn't even officially started. Today was the first day of the kids baseball season. We have 8 playing on 4 different teams. Jackson, Sophia, AnnaLisa and Isaiah all play in the same t-ball team. Have you ever watched twelve 5&6 year olds play baseball? Well let me tell you if you haven't you are sure missing out on a lot of fun. They play against other 5&6 year olds, so you have roughly 24 little kids running around not having the slightest idea what to do. It is not uncommon for there to be a few picking their noses, a couple chasing bugs, 3 off to the side smacking each other and at any given time 2 or more holding themselves screaming "MOMMY, I have to pee".  When the ball is hit, no matter where it goes the whole team runs for it. They wrestle, tackle, jump and cry to be the one that gets the ball. Then like a trophy they hold it up in air and smile, not knowing what to do next, all while 10 parents and a coach are yelling," Throw it to 1st". But they have no idea where 1st is so they run and place it back on the T. In the mean time the batter is skipping, crawling, rolling and sliding to 1st base, then to 3rd, back to 2nd to hug their friend then finally they have to pee. Then there are the little girls that really don't want to be on a ball field, they would rather dance. So that is exactly what they do, they tap, skip, pirouette and leap to the bases. One little girl even had on rhinestone ballet flats today with her t-shirt, ball socks and gray ball pants. They have no concept of taking turns, if they don't want to play in the field they just grab a bat and decide they want to hit now. So they run up to the T and push who ever is there out of their way.

So for the next 5 weeks we will be running from ball field to ball field 4 days a week until the summer baseball league is over. So wish me luck and say a few prayer I don't pee myself from laughing too hard!

Good Morning?

Every morning when the alarm goes off I think what the heck did I get myself into? I only have 12 more years of getting kids off to school. By the time the last one graduates I'll be 65. Most people at that age have either moved to Arizona or Florida coming back to Michigan to visit grandkids. Me on the other hand will be packing lunches and attending parent teacher conferences. You'll know me at graduation, I'll be the one with the walker, orthopedic shoes and a life alert around my neck. People are always telling me I look good for my age, which in translation means, say something nice to the old lady. This aging stuff sucks. I ache in more places than I ever knew I had parts and things just aren't where they used to be. When you're young and slim with perky ta-ta's and an ass that is were it is suppose to be you think you will stay that way forever. Wake-up people nature is a nasty thing. I have heard a lot of women say they are going to age naturally and let nature take it's course and I say lier, lier pants on fire. Yeah I said the same thing.... until I hit the gravity mile. The gravity mile starts about age 40 and it takes a good 6 to 7 years to finish the race. This is the only race I have ever won.

When a woman ages everything sags, we get jowls, droopy eye lids, long thin boobs, sporadic coarse hair popping out, and  even if you don't have kids you get the mom ass. We get wrinkles, gray hair, dry skin and liver spots. Liver spots now who the hell thought of that name, must have been a man? So we peel, pluck, lift, stuff, squeeze, slather with creams, exercise and if need be medical intervention.

Guys on the other hand get a pot belly, gray hair and a 20 year old.
I was sitting with Jackson watching Sponge Bob when he looked at my face and said,"What's that brown mark on your face"? I told him it was an old lady spot. He doubled up his little fist and said, "What old wady poked you there"? I said mother nature. To which he replied,"I hate that old wady she's not bery nice". So I told him as some people get older they get these spots. Why he wanted to know? "Just because", I was trying not to be to technical. All of a sudden it was like a light bulb turned on and he said,"Is that why Sophia is brown"? I love it! So as for the aging process with me,  I am going to  peel, pluck, lift, stuff, squeeze, slather with creams, exercise and if need be medical intervention. 

Fine Art

The weather is suppose to be getting nicer so I am going to paint. The living room, kitchen, dining room, hall and any other room that has child art on the walls. I have been talking to the kids on how not to draw on the walls once I get the painting done. Mind you wall art around has never really been a big issue with me. They draw on the walls, I take a picture leave it a few days then paint over it. They are always so proud of their artwork , it's really hard to get mad when they say  Mom look I drew you a beautiful picture or look I can write my name, so no big deal. The other day after one of my talks I gave them paper and asked them from now on would they please draw on the paper then we could hang it on the walls. Yes they agreed and proceeded to draw me pictures. A little while later they asked me to come see their art. There hanging on the wall as if by magic was their artwork. I told them they did a great job but how did they get them to stick on the walls. Sophia said," Oh that was easy, we glued them". Sure enough they got out their glue sticks and glued every picture they drew all over the walls. That certainly wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I said we would hang them. Score them a few points for their creativity.

Let's Go

Well another week-end has come to an end and I do not look forward to getting up at the crack of dawn to get the kids off to school. I start out at 6:30 with Jacob, he is followed by Ian, Joey, Deebo, Jackson, Sophia and AnnaLisa. The only ones I really have trouble with are Sophia and Jackson. We pick out Sophia's clothes the night before but by morning she has completely changed her mind on what she wants to wear that day. She is 5 going on 15.  If I don't let her wear what she wants it is a fight of the wills. It goes something like this... No you cannot wear cable knit tights with shorts and no halter tops to school. Take the eye shadow out of your backpack and go wash the lipstick off. Put your money back in your bank you are not buying a tattoo from Ella. I don't care if the bus driver has one, you cannot have coffee on the bus. You do not need to pack a lunch you come home in 3 hours. She's the easy one!!
Jackson on the other hand drives me crazy. Here is his morning... Come on it's time to get up for school, OK 5 more minutes. Your 5 minutes are up lets go, I know you're cold hurry get dressed you'll warm up. Come on get up. So I pick him up and stand him in the hallway and he points his finger at me and says," I don't have to do what you say, I'm sick today put me back in bed". Nope get moving . The kids no bigger than a large stuffed animal but thinks he is the boss. Eventually he trots down the hallway to have breakfast, then it's a fight to get him to eat , get dressed and comb his hair. The hair thing drives me crazy. I have to style it like Justin Bieber, bangs swooped to the side, sides combed forward perfectly. He has to check it out in the mirror. The kids is 6 but he says the girls like it this way. After 10 minutes of hairstyling he puts on his sweatshirt and stuffs his hair in the hood. I just cannot win.
They are all on buses by 8:10 and I am already exhausted. This is the first time in 16 years I have had all my kids in school at the same time. It's kind of quiet around here, almost deafening. It is nice to sit in the peace and quiet for a few but when they all go a full day I think I may go nuts.

New Postings

Now that you know about the kids and the husband I am going to start publishing my post the right way, as I write them. Now you wont have to scroll and keep hitting older post to see if I posted another one. By the way thanks for all the nice feed back on my blog. I never really thought anyone would read it, my kids of course and maybe a few friends. Until I started talking to other mothers I just thought every ones home was as chaotic. I sure was surprised to learn some mothers are actually organized. I have had people say to me, I bet you are so organized with everything. Oh sure that me! I cannot tell you at 4o'clock in the afternoon what's for dinner at 5:30. I never think that far ahead, confuses me too much. Don't ever just stop by just because you're out. I run down the hall, tell the kids to be quiet and pretend no one is home. I have to have at least a couple of hours notice to make a path for you to get in the door. Most people have a junk drawer well I have a couple and a few junk cupboard and junk closets. My attic is so full of kids clothes I'm afraid one morning I will get up and find them all on my dining room table as they crash through the ceiling. I have always saved the stuff the kids out grew just in case we got a temporary placement and the child had nothing. Now that we are done fostering I need to break that habit. OK I confess I am a child clothing hoarder. I wonder if they offer a 12 step program for that? Oh wait my daughter is pregnant I can save some stuff for her. Just kidding Nici!
But really every one thanks I do enjoy sharing my family with you all.

Where to start, at the beginning I guess

I guess an explanation is in order regarding my title. All my life I wanted to be at the top of something. As a small child it was the "hill" when we played "king of the hill" in the field behind our house. When I was a young girl, it was the top of someones "best friend" list. As I hit the high school years, it was the top of the "best dressed, all the boys thought you were pretty, have a choice on who to go to the dances with" list. So I am proud to say that after 52 years of waiting, I am finally on "TOP". Mind you it wasn't my first choice. Not one I had ever expected or even hoped for, it kind of fell at my feet, if you know what I mean. And to be truthful with you, I wouldn't have it any other way.

I should tell you a little about my life on the top and how I got here.

In the summer of 1977 I met a guy, let's call him Steve. To make a long story short.....he let me be on top, I was the first name on his best friend list and he thought I was the best dressed prettiest girl he ever met and he took me dancing. We fell in love, argued over the number of children we were to have, I said none, he said 4, I said 1, he said 3, I countered with 2, we agreed. He ask me to marry him, I said yes, we got married June 30, 1979.

On December 11, 1980 after 32 hours of labor without an epidural and a salad tong delivery, I gave birth to an 8#3oz baby boy we named Erik. For the next 4 months I swore I would never give birth again. It was too damn painful and my tail bone was cracked in the process.

By the 5th month I was pregnant again. On March 2, 1982 Nici was born after 4 hours of labor. WOW, this time it easy, heck I thought I could spit out a few more. And besides I kind of liked the little buggers. So..... on December 9, 1983, Heidi was born 2 weeks after my due date and 2 labor pains.

We decided 3 was the magic number. We have the perfect life. A 3 bedroom house in a child friendly neighborhood with our 3 kids, life was great.

They went to school and I was there volunteering, doing all the homeroom mom stuff, making sure no one picked on my babies.

Then the time came, the school needed a volunteer to do lice checks on the kids. Being a hairdresser by trade, I raised my hand. I became a permanent fixture in the elementary school. For the next 5 years I was known as The Lice Lady.

Starting the climb

Although meant to be endearing, The Lice Lady was not something I wanted to be remembered by. So the time came for me to let the kids go to school alone and I needed to find something to fill my "empty nest syndrome".

It was brought to my attention that the probate court needed volunteers to work with children in the foster care system. I had no idea what the foster system really was. I could not fathom any one ever beating or neglecting a child, worst yet what was so sexually appealing about a 5 year old? I was educated very fast.

For the next 8 weeks I attended classes on how to speak with children who had been placed in foster care, how to answer questions in court and how NOT to get too attached. One of the first things they tell you is you do not want to be a foster parent. It is an ungrateful, overwhelming, time consuming chaotic mess. Chaotic, did he just say chaotic? I happen to thrive in chaos, my life was chaos, heck it was perfectly chaotic. I have never been on time for anything in my life. I had the dreaded sock basket and if I threw my dirty jeans in the dryer with a bounce sheet they looked clean again! Last minute Lisa is what my husband {who's always 30 minutes early for everything} called me. May be something to look into in the future.

After a while I was given a case of a toddler named Michael. At the age of 2, he was already a veteran of the system, being placed at 5 months. Mom was a drug addicted stripper and dad wasn't far behind. So off I went to meet him and his foster parents.

It's All His Fault

Less than a mile from my home, on a road I traveled frequently, lived my 2nd son. I didn't know it at the time, but he would start the ball rolling.
I knocked on the door and was greeted by an older woman with a toddler hanging on her leg. I introduced myself as the CASA volunteer and was waved into the living room. There on the floor was about 25 matchbox cars. All lined up according to color in a very straight line. Pretty good for a 2 year old. I sat to talk to the foster mom, she said this was his morning ritual. The day couldn't start unless the cars were in a line. The more I watched Michael the more I wanted to take him home. Now mind you, I didn't think about adopting him, I just wanted to take him shopping. Not because he needed more cars, but because of what he was wearing. Here was this cute little boy with his hair slicked down with brylcream, polyester pant with suspenders, a long sleeved button down shirt and a pair of old man velcro shoes, in the middle of the summer. Made me want to puke. By the time I left I knew DHS was going to terminate parental rights and they needed to find an adoptive home. So I went home and told Steve I wanted to adopt Michael. He said, "O.K." and it was that easy.  I went to the court house, gave back the case, contacted DHS to start foster classes and on November 9,1993 Michael was officially our 2nd son. Now when you get licensed to be a foster parent the worker checks your home and writes down the number of children you are allowed to foster, due to bedroom size. Ours was 3, yes 3 the magic number. Little did we know in less than 4 months we would go from 3 to 6 six kids.

Just a Little step

The first thing I did was buy Michael some little boy clothes. Jeans, t-shirts and a pair of Nike tennis shoes. Used grease relief on his hair, let it grow a little and wah-lah, a normal looking 2 year old. Still quirky, but he looked just fine. He discovered a new interest other than lining up cars. The weather channel. He would sit and watch it all day if we let him. We thought it was cute that he knew all about cumulus clouds and tornado's. He was fascinated with thunder storms and lightening. We thought for sure we had a little weatherman in the making. Then one day he quit watching and became obsessed with dinosaurs. After he learned every dinosaur name he immediately became enthralled with the Titanic. Little did we know our new sons obsessions would later, much later, {about 10 years} be diagnosed as aspergers syndrome, a high functioning form of autism. I had never heard of aspberger syndrome. Stupid me, I thought all kids with autism were head banging, non-verbal, drooling, screaming, finger wringing kid that needed to be in a care facility. That couldn't have been farther from the truth. I educated myself on aspergers, got help from the school and he graduated with honors.But I am getting way ahead of myself. And this my friends was the 1st addition to my laundry pile. Just a small addition, maybe an extra load a week, but none the less my first step up.

Taking Two

Less than 4 months later a friend of mine Nancy W. who was social worker with DHS asked if we could take a couple of sister. They were already in a foster home but the family decided they wanted the girls moved. So we said yes, heck when you have 4 what's 2 more. Evidently I wasn't thinking too clearly on that day. Six kids in a 900 square foot house, I must of hit my head on the washer door. So on March 15,1994 two little blond girls walked into our lives. Keeley and Logan were their names and Keeley was a force to be reckoned with. As she came into the house, the first words she said were, "You can't hit me, my mom said and I'm gonna tell". I thought to myself, no wonder the other family wanted them to leave. Man what a brat, what the hell did I get myself into? But the only hitting we soon learned was by Keeley. Slapping, punching and kicking if you got in her way. That was until she went up to Heidi and decided a punch in the stomach was in order. Heidi being the original baby and feeling like her life was being invaded by all these brats as she put it, let go with a punch of her own. That, for some reason caused Keeley to calm down. Her anger subsided a little and life went on. And my pile was getting higher, 2 steps closer toward the top.
But now we needed to look for a larger house. Our perfect little started home was getting smaller by the child. So we listed our home and the search was on.

The Hunt is on

Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep a 900 square foot house clean with 6 kids. Evidently I didn't, because my idea of a clean house and the Realtors was totally different. I thought a path between the toys and the jelly wiped off the chairs was pretty good. He on the other hand wanted all the "clutter" removed. He even went so far as to tell me the laundry room would look nicer if I put the dirty stuff in baskets. Well I had a system down there. The clothes that really need to get washed soon, like underwear, socks and jeans were closest to the washer. The other stuff got chucked off to the side until I had time, or until someone complained they would have to go naked. The idea of my husband welding naked at work gave me shivers. To think of all the burn ointment we would have to buy got me motivated, after all we were going to move. I could use that money for new curtains and stuff.
So what seemed like an eternity, but in actuality was only 2 months, we sold our home. The purchaser was a realtor in the same office as our listing agent and wanted the house in 30 days. Great, we hadn't found anything we were remotely interested in and hot pants wanted us out. The buyer was having an affair with our agent and he was our neighbor, she couldn't get us out fast enough.
We knew what we needed and wanted our new home to have. At least 4 bedroom, 2 bathrooms, garage, pool and a fenced in yard, anything else was a bonus. So the hunt was on and we saw some dumps. Some peoples idea of a half bath was a toilet in the corner of a basement with a piece of plywood separating it from the rest of the room. Ah no not for me.
One day I was driving through a neighborhood I like as a teen. I saw a house for sale by owner. I called my agent and told him I wanted to see that one. A few hours later he called and told me to come right over, he was there and the home was just what we were looking for.
OMG, it was a mansion, 2100 square feet. Not only did it have 4 bedrooms but it had 3, yes I said 3 bathrooms, an in ground pool, garage and a big fenced in backyard. But the most important thing, it has first floor laundry, right there in the hallway. Not much floor space to speak of, my laundry system would need a little tweaking. So I did what every good wife would do in a situation like this. I signed a purchase agreement, gave the sellers a deposit and then I called my husband at work and told him. It went something like this: Hello Honey, guess what I just did? He said,"I'm afraid to ask". So I said with excitement, "I just bought a house". And his reply, plain and simple, "Oh shit". So I went on to tell him all about it. It has a master bathroom, can you believe it, no more running down the hallway naked in the middle of the night. Well, that sold him, so we moved.

Oh What The Heck

So life in our new home began. Our licensing worker from DHS came out to check the house, make sure it was safe and unbeknown to us thought it would hold a few more kids. Within a few weeks the phone started ringing. We got calls for children all the time. Some stayed longer than others, an emergency placement for the week-end, a few day till relatives could get into town, a week until they could make sure the dad is really the dad, stuff like that. In September of 1994 we received a call from a foster care worker wanting to know if we had room for 2 sisters ages 7 and 9. It would only be for a few months until an arrangement could be made to get the girls to their uncle in North Carolina. Sure that would be fine, a couple more kids for Christmas this year would be fun. Bring em on over. Well first we would have to meet them. The supervisor wanted us to be sure because the girls were bi-racial. Well I was a mom and they were kids, I was sure, what more did they want.
So the next day Anita from DHS came over with just one of he girls, a beautiful 9 year old named Nicole. When I asked about the other, Anita said she was having an x-ray on her leg. She had a bone infection and they wanted to start her on antibiotic. Nicole was fascinated with all the kids and after trip around the block with Heidi told Anita to just get her sister she wanted to stay. It wasn't quite that fast, a few days later she brought both the girls. On September 27, 1994, the girls came to stay. As I looked out the door the 2 girls were all smiles coming up the walk. But the little one, Courtney had a big white brace on her leg. Anita told me Courtney had an appointment with the orthopedic doctor the next day. She gave me the info and the girls went about getting settled. And I of course, had to figure out yet a new system for the laundry, from 3 to 8 kids in less than a year. Bunk washers and dryers would have been great. So I took another 2 steps up the pile! But when you have so many girls it is actually more, cause girl do the put on, take off, throw on the floor clothing changes. So I wash more clean clothes than dirty.

Only A Foster Mom

The next morning after getting the kids on the buses, Courtney and I headed to the doctors appointment. While sitting in the waiting area, a rotund, big mouthed woman came and plopped her fat ass right next to me. That's my baby she said, pointing to Courtney." Excuse me", I replied, I had no idea who this crazy woman was, or the mumbling old man she had with her. I'm her Aunt, and I have custody, the other foster mother called me and told me she would be here and that she has cancer and when she dies I want contributions to go to Mt. Olive Church. Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather. First of all, it was my understanding that it was a bone infection, and who in the hell did this woman think she was, to say say such a thing in front of this child. So I scooped Courtney up and went to the other side of the waiting area, while this nut bag continued to yell at me. That lasted only a few minutes, then she said the wrong thing. I am her mama, you are only a foster mom. Only she said, only a "foster mom". That made me very mad, actually it pissed me right off. You see I haven't been  good at a lot of things in my life, but being a mom was something I took pride in. It was to me, the most important thing and the only thing I was really good at. And as far as the word "foster", it was only a word. The mom that came after it was the important part. So for this poor excuse for a human to say such a thing. So I yelled back, "Guess you should have thought about how good of a mama you were before you beat the hell out of the girls". With that said, a very large man walked up to me and asked if I would like that woman to leave. Before the word yes came out of my mouth 3 more people got up to help escort the babbling idiot out the door. Never under estimate the kindness of strangers.

When we were called back to see the doctor, he took me outside the exam room to show me the x-ray. Pointing to an area just above the knee, he said see the onion peel effect on the bone. Which I did. Well, that's a tumor, a very large tumor. A very large cancerous tumor. He said some more doctor stuff, but what I heard was,wheelchair, biopsy, oncologist, chemo, radiation, port, possible amputation. My head was spinning, little kids don't get cancer, old people do, right. I'm sure he was mistaken and a biopsy would tell us that. So they scheduled a biopsy and I had to call Anita.

"Oh my Lord Jesus", she said, We can have the girls moved. Moved, why move them, I thought. I know this is a lot to handle and you have a lot of kids, so we can find another placement. It will be a lot of work for any one and besides you don't give your kids away because they're sick. No, they are fine right where they're at. So we were in for the long haul. They wouldn't be moving any time soon.  

She Has Rhabdo what?

I am not going to drag out all the medical torture that this child had to endure, but I will tell you the important thing. The biopsy came back as rhabdomyosarcoma, it was a form of muscle cancer. Only hers started in the bone. Only 9 documented cases and no survivors. They had informed me if her leg broke at the tumor site, she would need an amputation because the cancer would spread and it did. But they never told me. I found out when I took her to see a radiation specialist. That's when they gave her 6 month max and cut off her leg. But the jerk that did the surgery didn't have clean margins, he left just a few cancer cells, they could be radiated out. Yeah right, it came back, fast. So I fired them. I needed to find a doctor a little more optimistic. So I went to see Dr. Paul Derderian, a very smart man who was an angel in disguise and Courtney would be his 1st pediatric cancer patient. He sent us to see an orthopedic oncologist, Dr. Irwin, he was straight and to the point. The remaining part of her leg, which was about 6 inches of thigh, had to be removed at the hip socket. So it was, they got clean margins and she did pretty good, that is until the pain came back, this time in her butt. After more test, which included sticking a very long needle into her butt cheek all the way to her pelvic bone unsedated. It was determined she needed a hemi-pelvectomy. This required removing 1/2 her pubic bone, hip and ishcium (butt bone). So they did.
 I know I compress a very long year into a very short paragraph, but this was time in my life that I really questioned myself. I had to be at the hospital so much that I was so afraid my kids at home were feeling very neglected. And to make matters worse, I was sure Courtney hated me, After all here she was this little girl with a sore leg. She came to live with us and right away I let people stick needles into her, give her medicine that made her sick, her hair fell out and the worst of all I let them cut her leg off. How's does one little child comprehend, I did what I did because I loved her.  And you know the whole time she went through everything, she always smiled. The same smile she had on her face the first day she came here.
After all the treatments were done, the uncle decided it was best for the girls to stay right here with us. So along with Keeley and Logan, the adoption of Nicole and Courtney were in the works.

It's all in the name

So when you give birth to a child, the first thing you do is give it a name.Being adopted means you can change the names if you want. So because that the girls were older, we let them decide if they wanted to change theirs. Logan wanted to change her name to Jessca, not Jessica, Jessca. But I really liked the name Logan, so we changed her middle name, she was to be Logan Jessica. Keeley asked me,"If you had me, what would you have named me"? Oh, that was easy, if Erik had been a girl he would have been Shannon Michelle. I thought the name fit for a blue eyed, blond haired girl. Instead he was my blue eyed, blond haired boy. So Keeley was Shannon Michelle. Nicole had to change her name, we already had a Nicole Hanson, so she gave me a list of names she liked and asked me to pick my favorite. And Lyndsay it was, Lyndsay Nicole. Now Courtney was a little different, she wanted Whitney, after Whitney Houston. But she just didn't look like a Whitney to me. We pondered on names and I heard the name McKayla, she looked like a McKayla. The middle name was easy, it was after her angel, Dr. Paul Derderian. She would be known as McKayla Paul. You know if we were the Duggar, that TLC family with 19 kids, it would have a lot easier. Just pick your favorite letter out of the alphabet and think of name that starts with it for all your kids. I think that's kinda boring, in fact if they ever have anymore kids, I think they should be a little daring. I am gonna send my suggestions to them, Juicy for a girl or Junky for a boy. Juicy Duggar, now that has a ring to it.
So, they all were here to stay forever. Which meant I had to come up with a permanent solution for the laundry. No more only doing the socks, underwear and jeans, I had to do it all. Oh I prayed so hard for a sky light in the laundry room, just so I could see the light of day. Then we decided I could have the new large capacity front loaders, yippee. We would take the older set to the basement, add the new set up stairs and I could do double duty. Oh yeah.

Eight is enough

By the summer of 1995 it had calmed down a lot. The trips to the hospital were in the past and the trips to the prosthetics office were frequent. Trying to fit Mac with yet another leg. But life went on. The kids played, swam and just had a great summer. According to the State of Michigan foster care guidelines, a foster home could have no more than 8 children under the age of 17. So we couldn't take anymore kids for a while. No problem, I had enough on my plate, or so I thought.
Erik played hockey for the high school team. One day around the first part of August we got a call from a coordinator who finds host families for foreign exchange students. He wanted to know if we would be interested in hosting a 17 year old boy from Sweden. He was a hockey player, a goalie. We talked it over, asked the kids what they thought. Everyone agreed. So mid August Martin came to spend the school year with us. What a nice boy with a great sense of humor, and one heck of a hockey player. It was a great experience for not only Martin but all the kids as well. The year went great and in the summer of 96 his parents came over to meet us and take their boy back home. We were sad to see him go, but we had a friend for life.
Around that same time our adoptions for all the girls were in the final stages. Shannon and Logan's would be right after the first of the year and Lyndsay and McKayla's would follow a few months later. All of our children were under 17 so we were done. To us 8 was enough. So I got my laundry in order, well kinda. I decided the older kids could do their own downstairs. Ha, you thought I told them they really had to do it.  So I did get a lot of exercise running up and down the stairs. I tried really hard to keep the pile low, but with 8 kids, it was impossible.

From Poland with Love

As soon as all the girls adoptions were finalized, DHS closed our license. We were happy, we had 8 beautiful children, we loved our new house. But it too became small, so that spring we decided to add a large family room  onto the house, as well as a hair room for me. That was a large undertaking, but we all survived, now we had more room to spread out (as the 3 stooges put it).
In July of 1997 we received another call from the foreign exchange student coordinator. How would we like a lovely girl from Poland to spend the upcoming school year with us. So, family vote, she won, and Gabby came in August. The poor girl, I don't think she really knew what she had gotten herself into. They told her we had 8 children, but the reality didn't set in until she saw them all together. Coming from a family of professional parents and only 1 sister, I think she had wished she had bought an open ended ticket back to Poland. Mind you all the kids were great, but they could try the patients of a saint. The adjustment period took a little longer than we or she had expected. I don't think she really liked us at first.
One morning I answered the phone to hear a sobbing girl in broken english trying to tell me something. I made out, stinky rock, Polish girl and I hate that fucker. So off to the high school I went. Poor Gabby stood crying in hall. Eventually I found out what had upset her so bad. She was in geology class and they were studying a certain  rock. The teacher had tried to make a joke. The rock had a bad odor and he said it smelled like a Polish exchange student. So being me, I had to shame that teacher. How dare he say something so nasty, he needed to apologize immediately and it better not ever happen again. I surprised her, she came around after that. I think that is the moment she knew we had her back.
This year happened to be the year Erik turned 17. With all the kids in school, I was kind of bored. So the day after his birthday, I called our licensing worker. Maybe we could do some short term foster care. Nothing permanent, just some emergency placements, or something. So they reinstated our licence.

It's a Boy

With our license back we started getting calls again. Short term emergency placements. The revolving door at our home was once again open. At the end of March I read a blurb about a 2 month old baby in our local paper. He was in the hospital with very questionable injuries. Seemed to be a case of severe child abuse. I just couldn't get that awful thought out of my head. What kind of monster hurt a baby, the thought made my stomach flip. Well I did have an opening and I had never had an infant placed with us. So I called our worker. I wanted that baby. So he put me in touch with the protective service worker, her name was Nancy H. Are you sure she asked, these injuries are severe? He will probably have some major deficits. Yeah I was sure, but now I had to convince Steve. So later that day I asked,"Don't you want a baby"? Sure, get in the bedroom so we can practice. Well that wasn't exactly what I had in mind. No, a foster baby? "Um, no I think we have enough", was his reply. So I went on to tell him about this poor baby who was beaten so bad. Please, I wanted this baby. In his word,"He will probably be all garfed up, are you willing to risk that"? Yep was all I said. So he told me to go see him, make sure I could handle it. Well I couldn't get to the hospital fast enough. On the way I stopped to pick my mom up. She was a little more level headed than I was. What if he's severely brain damaged, what if he never walks or talks, are you willing to spend the rest of your life taking care of this baby, because you know he won't be a baby forever? I never thought about it that way, but yes I was, no matter what.
From the moment I saw this broken little guy, I knew I wanted to take him home and never let any one ever hurt him again. He was at that moment the most beautiful baby I had ever seen. His head was bruised and swollen , he had puffy eyes from the skull fractures, bruising around his ears and on his chest. But yet he managed to smile at me, I was in love.

My Little Easter Buddy

On April 10, 1998 we brought Jason home. It was Good Friday, what an appropriate day. All the kids fell in love as fast as I did. Steve was a little stand offish, just kinda looked from a distance. That was until I was standing in the kitchen with the baby on my shoulder and Steve started to walk past. Jason caught Steve's glance and they stared at each other, then the little man smiled. Well needless to say Steve turned into a big mush ball. From that day on Jason was his baby, during the day of course.
I thought I knew everything there was about babies and I did, just not abused ones. When I changed his diaper he screamed, when he was sound asleep he screamed, when I tried to lay him down he screamed. So I called an expert, Donna, my good friend and nurse, who actually took care of the baby in the pediatric intensive care unit. I flooded her with questions, she answered each and everyone of them without making me feel as if I were a complete idiot. Yes he probably had pain in his head, he has skull fractures. The constant crying was a neuro cry from the brain trauma. It probably causes pain in his head to lift his butt up to change his diaper, that put pressure on the back of his head. So I needed to fix that. When he needed to be changed, it took 2 . One to take off the old diaper and gently lift him up, the other to place the diaper down so he could be laid on it. One problem solved. When I could lay him down to sleep(which wasn't often), He slept on a feather pillow placed in the bassinet. Most of the time I just held him and slept in the recliner all night. The next was to change his formula, he puked all the time and passed a lot of gas. So we tried soy, no good, then we tried 3 more all with the same results. So the pediatrician recommended Alimentum. Liquid not powder, it worked but boy did it stink, going in and coming out. Now to figure out why he screamed all the time, not a painful scream a scared scream. So I was given the name of an infant mental health specialist. Who even knew there was such a person. Well my friend Nancy W. did. That was on my to do list for the week after Easter. Wow I forgot how much laundry you have to do with a baby. But it was o.k., he needed us.

You have Got to be Kidding

On Monday I received a call from Nancy H. I had to take the baby for a visit with the womb and sperm donor (I don't call  them his parents, because parents don't hurt their babies). I can't believe these monsters were not in jail. How do they still have the right to see this baby? Someone needed to put a gun to their heads and pull the trigger. I could have done it, easy, if I wasn't afraid of getting caught. I had to come face to face with these maggots. I had to hand over this fragile broken baby to the people who inflicted such pain. I was wreck, my mouth was dry, my hands shook, I wanted to turn around and run, right after I blew their brains out.
I'm not quite sure what I expected when I saw these people. Young teens strung out on drugs I guess. As I walked up to them I was surprised. He was older, maybe early 40's, not a bad looking man. She was young, early 20's, butt ugly with a big mouth. The baby was sleeping and the minute she opened her mouth the screaming began. I had to leave, it broke my heart. All I could hear was his screams. The visit didn't last the 1 hour it was suppose to. They had me come back and take him, he had not stopped crying since they laid their meat hooks on him. When I took him back he calmed right down, he knew me already. I made my mind up right then and there, if they wanted this baby back they were gonna have a fight. But Nancy H. thought the same thing. She was the angel in Jason's life. She knew if they got him back, he would die, probably at there hands.

Let the Fight Begin

Once a week for the next 5 months I had to take the poor baby down to the DHS office for a one hour visits. He would scream, they would hand him back to me, I would calm him, they took him back. This went on for the entire visit ever week. In the mean time, we had court hearing. The womb and sperm donor had to take parenting classes, whoopee. Beat your baby, take a class and get your baby back. Beat your dog, go to jail and never own another animal the rest of you life. Something was very wrong here. Just because you mate and produce off spring does not make you a parent.
After about 2 months of the visits, I finally had had enough. I refused to calm the baby down just to give him back to hear him scream again. I was his comfort, he felt safe with me. I couldn't do it anymore. So the workers went to court and asked that the visits be stopped. The Judge said if the womb and the sperm donor couldn't calm him down in 5 minutes, the visits were over. So every week for 5 minutes he had a visit.
In the mean time Nancy H. filed with the court to terminate the parental rights. So the fight was on and the Judge felt sorry for the womb. He wanted her to tell what happened to the baby, if she didn't do it the sperm donor must have. She had no knowledge, she wasn't kidding there, she was as dumb as a box of rocks. So spermie said he must have hit himself in the head with a rattle. I don't know what kind of rattles he bought the baby, lead? Some how before the trial got under way a little bird told the local newspaper, "The Flint Journal" about the case. So everyday the trial was going on ,a reporter named Kim Crawford sat in the front row. He along with several onlooker were mortified to hear the injuries this baby had received. Then the Judge wanted DHS to find a relative to take the baby. I thought I was gonna die. Not to worry, Nancy H. weeded them out fast. None of them were any better than the abusers. She was a professional in every way, telling it like it was. Never once backing down, she stood her ground. In her professional opinion, they had caused the injuries. An infant mental health professional testified he suffered post traumatic stress disorder, this beating was not the first. But it was the last. Who new a baby could have P.T.S.D.? Like the Judge, I thought only veterans were diagnosed with that.
The trial came to an end on August 19,1998, I remember the date well, it was my 40th birthday. I thought for sure the Judge would terminate right then and there. Instead he set another date for the ruling, September 8. Between the end of the trial and the decision date Kim ran the article in the Journal. "The Tragic Case Of Jason Seames". It was very powerful, it brought to light the evil some people possess.

You could have heard a pin drop as the Judge spoke. Devastating injuries, no one else ever took care of the baby, no reasonable explanation. He terminated their rights. I was so happy, I couldn't get out of the court house fast enough to call Steve. I knew the first time I saw him, I would never let anyone hurt him like that again. So we named him Jacob David and the early in 1999 his adoption was final. So I stepped up again making it a little closer to top. But this time there was a little hop in my step.

Sweet Bubba

Everything was going great. We got to keep our baby and he was doing fantastic. Better than anyone had expected. It took him a while to crawl, he would drag his left leg. But eventually he mastered it. Once he learned to walk, running wasn't far behind. I no longer had to sleep in the recliner because he slept between Steve and I every night.
This also happened to be the year Nici turned 17, so we kept our license open. And the revolving door once again began to turn. Around the middle of June we had to say good bye to Gabby. When she got here she was this shy young lady with long straight brown hair and her guard up. When she left I was half afraid her parents would come over and kick my butt. I was sending back a very outspoken woman with cropped hair and tongue piercing. Heaven help me, I thought about moving and not leaving a forwarding address. But it was all OK. We made yet another life long friend.
Soon after Gabby left we received a phone call. A 3 month old, badly injured. He had severe head trauma which required surgery. Would we take him? Well that was no brainer. So off to the hospital I went. What a sad moment when I saw this poor little guy. He had a strip of hair shaved off his head with staples to take it's place.They started in the middle of his forehead at the hairline going straight back and down, then curved back around to the front of his ear almost in a backwards C shape. There was a drain sticking out from the crown area. He appeared to me to be blind. He just looked so sad. So a few days later I brought him home and once again the recliner became my bed. Bubba, as we called him was beautiful. He wasn't as demanding as Jacob had been as far as the screaming. But he did not like to be left alone. I soon found out why. He had lost the vision in one eye totally and the top half of his vision in the other. I was pissed, but the things people do to their children no longer surprised me. All we could do was love him.
But again the visits started. First with the womb and sperm donor, then the grandparents. Of course all the court hearing and doctor visits kept me very busy. Twelve months seemed to fly by, and before I knew it the courts were giving him back to the womb and her parents. Oh what a sad day. It was hardest on Jacob. He was 2 1/2, and this was "HIS Bubba". Evey time the worker put Bubba's stuff in  the car Jacob would try to take it out. He kept screaming ,"My Bubba". I said that was it, I was done, never again would they hurt my kids. I would never take another child again.

OK So I Lied

After Bubba left I didn't want anymore kids. But stupid me I always answered the phone. A 15 month old, severe fetal alcohol syndrome. Sure, no problem I'll be home bring her over. I was surprised to see the tiniest little girl. She was sleeping, but her hair was not. It was crawling with lice. It took smothering them with Vaseline for 2 days to kill them. She stayed with us about 15 months, then she went to an adoptive home with her brother. It was a little easier with her, she was a feeces eater and  I would not miss that. Then a few more emergency placements the rest of the year. In January of 2001 I got another call. Brand new baby girl, this was a for sure termination and we could adopt. I was right there. For 2 months she was my baby. Then on March 4th I got the call. They were moving her to a home with a sibling. I was heart broken. But this time I was done. I told them they could take my license, don't call me anymore. They could kiss me right smack were the sun didn't shine. So they took my baby. Two hour later they called. We have a 4 month old baby boy. Nope don't want him. I was still crying over my girl. Steve told me go get him, she is not coming back.
So down to DHS I went and there waiting for me was the biggest 4 month old I had ever seen. He looked like a toddler and scrunched up in a sleeper way to small for all his length. He was beautiful and had the biggest smile. Shit I was in love again. So I took him home, his name was Christian, but we dubbed him "Big Boy". I had to buy him 12 month clothes. He never cried, he slept 12 hours a night, he smiled all the time. He was the perfect baby. He fit right in, like he was meant to be here.
Just a little over 3 months later on June 16th, I got another call. Could I go down to the court house asap to pick up an 18 day old. When it rains it pours. OK be right there. Steve was still at work and there was no time to call him. So I grabbed Shannon to go with me and told the kids when Dad gets home tell him I went shopping. When we got to the court house he was being passed around by the referees. Dressed only in a onsie and smelling terrible, they handed me this tiny little baby. He was shivering from the air conditioning. They told me to get my car and drive it as close to the steps as I could. The mom was a wack job and she was going to try and follow me. So I did, then they handed me a bag of  baby stuff, a paper with some info on him and the baby. We had to run to the car, Shannon hopped in the back seat to put him in the car seat and they told us to go, go, go. I felt like a kidnapper. If I hadn't been so nervous it might have been fun.

I Think I'm Getting A Nose Bleed

Pulling into the driveway I saw Steve was home. Well Shannon let's get this over with. You see, Steve and I had decided with Christian, 10 was enough. Here I was bringing another baby home. I walked in the door, Steve was sitting at the table. "Hi honey I'm home", I tried to sound all excited. He said, "Where did you go shopping at"? I stepped up off the landing held the baby up like a trophy and said, "The court house". There was no look of surprise on his face, He was getting used to coming home to another child being here. He did say, " What the heck is that"? To which I replied,"It's a Joey". Wow, was all he said. Things at the court house happened so fast I really didn't get a chance to check the little guy over, however I did smell him and he needed a bath. So as I was getting him ready I took notice. Wow was right, he had tabby cat orange hair that stood straight up,crossed eyes, pediatric acne, testicles the size of tennis balls and thrush so bad it was all over his lips, if he would have had teeth, I'm sure they would have been bucked. But to me he was beautiful. First thing I had to do was call my mom. She always wanted a red headed baby and she loved the name Joey. So I called her. "Mom guess what I have"? Another kid right? Yep and he has red hair and his name is Joey. Well she couldn't get over her fast enough. And like me she was in love. Christian was as always all smiles and to my surprise very gentle, considering he wasn't quite 7 months. He tooled around in his walker, always wanting to be by the baby. They were quite the duo, one was huge the other so tiny. They kinda reminded me of the Arnold Schwarzenegger/ Danny Davito movie Twins. Joey was the total opposite of Christian. He cried all the time and never slept. So it was back to the recliner for me. I finally had to take him to the doctor, I had a lot of patience but the crying was wearing them thin. From the time I put him in the car he never stopped screaming the entire 20 miles to the doctor. It continued as I signed him in and the doctor came out to the waiting area. He took Joey back to examine him. I told him this was the norm, he cried all the time. He told me he had colic and we needed to change his formula and give him something to calm down the tummy. Great maybe some relief for the poor baby. After trying all the formulas available I finally had to get a prescription for some special gentler formula. He seemed to tolerate that better. So now we needed to focus on his eyes. If he looked straight at you they would cross. So he tipped his head back as far as he could almost closing his eyes with only a little slit to see out of. So a new slew of doctors were on the horizon. In the mean time both boys had visits at DHS and court hearing on different days of course. This time as I took 2 more steps closer I was dragging my ass.

Alway Room For One More

By mid summer things were getting a little more organized. The kids were out of school and the older ones were a big help with the babies. Mom was here as much as she could be. Christian had taken to Heidi loving all the attention she gave him and Joey stuck with me until Mom came over of course. Jacob on the other hand had become very attached to Uncle Dave and Grandma Hanson. Everything was going pretty darn smooth considering we now had 11 kids. That year on my Mom's birthday we had given her a trip to Oklahoma to visit my cousin and his family. In September she decided to go. It was during that time the Twin Towers had been attacked and she had to stay 5 days longer than expected. She called me a few times saying she just wanted to come home she didn't feel well.
The night she arrived home I picked her up at the airport and took her to her apartment she was glad to be back. A few hours later she called to say she was having trouble breathing. I called my sister to take her to the hospital and told her to keep me informed. Having already had a heart attack and stint we were sure it had something to do with her heart. Imagine my surprise when my sister Lori called me a 3 a.m. hysterically crying. Some sad excuse for a doctor with absolutely no bed side manners walked in said it appears you have leukemia and walked out. Well I said bullshit, when in actuality I wanted to say no way God would not do this to me again. They admitted her that evening and told her they would have to do a bone marrow test the next day. If that were positive they would surgically implant a port so they could start chemotherapy. I was at the hospital with her when they did the bone marrow test. Anyone who knew my mother knew she was a very strong person, but when they slammed those big bore needles into her hip bones she buried her face in her pillow and screamed. I wanted to knock the snot out of that doctor. Why didn't he sedate her? What a heartless bastard. Well the marrow was positive so they implanted a port and her chemo began.
Knowing how sick chemo makes a person I told my brothers and sisters she could not live alone anymore. I was the only one of us kids that didn't work so I told Mom she had to live with me. She pretended to not like the situation but I knew she was happy. My girls doubled up, what we could fit in the room came here and everything else went to storage. Two week later Mom came home from the hospital.

Our Devastating Losses

There was no one more happier to see Mom than Joey, he called her MeNana. Every night just as she was going to bed we would burst in her room and yell surprise. Then I would let Joey climb all over her. She loved it and so did he. After her first round of chemo the doctor didn't see much change so he gave her 6 weeks and wanted to give her morphine to send her home to die. Well we fired him. We took her to Karmanos  Cancer Institute in Detroit, the specialist there told us the previous doctor was not aggressive enough. He tried her on another medication and set up a protocol for her new doctor, whom turned out to be fantastic.

Around the same time my Mother-in-law was having medical issues too. Most of the time they were in the hospital at the same time so we would just hop between floors. When Mom was home and doing out patient chemo all of the family pitched in to take her. Everyone took turns taking her where she needed to be. Then a home nurse would come in and give her shots or I.V. fluids, clean her port, take her temp stuff like that. But they started to get too comfy. One day a nurse came out hooked Mom to an I.V. then went into my bathroom to crap and read a book she was in there for an hour. So being me I fired them. I took over the home care, I did the shots, I.V's, temps and Mom liked it better. This went on for almost a year.

The first part of August while my Mother-in-law was having dialysis she had a stroke. She didn't want any heroics, so she was taken to a room and made very comfortable. On August 6th five days before my husbands birthday our sweet Charlene passed away. We were all devastated I left her room and went to see my Mom a floor down from hers. I crawled in the bed with my her and  we cried together. I told her, "You had better not die on me". That evening we talked to her doctor, he told me he heard about Charlene and unfortunately he felt my Mom would also pass this week. I told him she wouldn't do that to me, die that close to Charlene. She waited a week.

On August 14th five day before my birthday Mom passed here at home with her family. I lost my 2 Moms. Here I was a 44 year old woman with 11 kids and I felt like an orphan. I now know this is how many of the children in foster care feel. If it hadn't been for my husband and kids I would have curled up in a ball and died myself. The next morning my sisters and brother were here and we had to make funeral arrangement. All of a sudden I started to laugh, in our grief we had sent Mom to the wrong funeral home. She hated the owner of the one we sent her to. So we made our oldest  sister Lori  make the call. Mom would have thought this was funny, maybe she had something to do with it and as always Mom had the last laugh.

Trying to Find Normal

For the most part the rest of 2002 was a blur.We had put our foster license on hold so we wouldn't receive any calls for a while. I knew if they called I couldn't turn them down. For the first time in my life I wanted no chaos, I wanted to mourn and feel sorry for myself and believe me I did. Trying to get through the holidays was going to be  unbearable.The kids seemed to snap back pretty fast but I was on the pity train and had no intention of getting off any time soon. A friend of mine said I should talk to a psychic she once had do a reading  for her, oh what the heck I was miserable maybe she could make me laugh. So I called her, I didn't expect much, maybe a generic reading with your gonna be rich, your going to take a long vacation stuff like that. I was absolutely overwhelmed with emotion when the first thing she asked me was who was catholic, my Mom was. Then she said how sorry she was that Mom has recently passed along with another woman I was close to. She told me she saw a 17month old with bad eyes and he would need emergency surgery, I have lots of kids, would get more a couple of girls, sibling, we would get rewarded for doing what we do. She went on for a half an hour and said something only my Mom and I knew, a private thing. Nothing generic about this reading. The part about getting more kids I didn't believe, because we had decided we were done again. I did feel better in a way and didn't really think of some of the stuff she said until 2 weeks later. When my 17 month old with bad eyes had to have emergency surgery for a hernia that was strangling his intestines. Well maybe there was something to this.
Christmas that year was going to be awful. We always had Christmas Eve dinner at our house so Mom could give everyone their gifts then go from house to house on Christmas Day to see what all the kids got from Santa. I had saved a lot of Mom's clothes. During the time she was sick we had all bought her pajamas, something that was comfortable for her to wear. So I decided I would make my brothers and sister quilts out of her clothes. That was a big undertaking because I had never made one before. Every quilt was personalized with a piece from a pair of p.j.'s they had bought mom. They turned out OK, a little lopsided but OK.
We managed to get through Christmas without anyone having that big of a break down. The New Year had to be better because I couldn't take that train anymore. I needed to get it together if not for the kids then for myself.

Thriving Once Again

I guess it was around March when we finally got a call, it was for a newborn baby girl. She was African American. The mother had a substance abuse problem and mental health issues. Sure we would take her just let me know when and where to pick her up. Not too long after that I received another call. A placement worker said we couldn't have the baby, she needed to be with her own. Her own what mother? No race. I was speechless and for that to happen to me was just short of a miracle, then she hung up. I made a few calls that went to voice mail then a few hours later a different placement worker called me. Would you like a baby girl, she's African American? I don't know do you have a problem with me taking her, I asked?  No, should I, she replied? I explained what was said earlier and this lady was upset. Some people that work here are narrow minded. So I went to the hospital and picked up this beautiful little newborn. Chaos was slowly returning.
A week later we received another call. We know you have a baby but we have a 3 week old, severe abuse, skull fractures, healing unset fracture of the fore arm, seizures. You have experience with this sort of injury, would you be willing to let the baby girl go to another home and take this little boy. Yes I would, so I packed up the sweet baby girl and went to see the my other baby.
Oh what a butter ball he was so cute laying there sucking his finger. A head full of dark curly hair and the biggest brown eyes I had ever seen. His name was Devon and he needed some love. On May 3, 2003 we went to meet the rest of the family. When I got home Steve was in the family room, I took Devon to meet him. Steve started to laugh. He had just watched the movie Fridays and he said Devon looked like this big drug dealer named Deebo. I thought that was mean but he really did, so from then on he was known as Deebo. By this time I knew the routine, isn't that sad to know what doctor an abused baby must see. So it was back to my chaotic life, ot, pt and speech therapy, neurologists, gastroenterologists you name the specialist we saw them. The sperm donor admitted to beating the baby, he was charged and sentenced to prison for 1st degree child abuse where he still is today. But because the womb wasn't home at the time of the abuse (she was working the streets) she was allowed visits. Deebo had a great foster care worker, she knew the womb was on parole for drugs and prostitution, so she ran her and found out she was in violation of her parole. She set up a visit for her to see Deebo but also called the police. They took that fat slob to jail. Oh happy days. That was the end of the visits. But I still had a problem, I could not get a doctor to believe me that Deebo couldn't hear. When he was about 7 months he started rolling up to the t.v. and putting his ear to the speaker. I could bang pans and clap my hands still nothing. So I decided one last time to take him to yet another Ear Nose and Throat specialist. They did some kind of test on him and said I was right. His eardrums did not vibrate. So we scheduled surgery to have tubes put in his ears. When the surgeon came out to talk to me afterwards, he said when he punctured the eardrum to insert the tube fluid from the brain or brain matter oozed out. He said it was common for this to happen when the skull is fractured in that area. He had seen it a few times before when he did his residency. Gross was all I could say but at last he should be able to hear better.
The court proceeding went very fast in this case. They terminated rights at the 2nd hearing and we got to keep our Sweet Deebo. So once again I was on an upward climb. Oh who cares when you do all this laundry anyway whats a little more. But I still wanted that sky light!!

A Job Well Done

Right after the first of the year in 04 we were trying to get the adoption finalized for the 3 boys. We had our physicals all that was left to do were TB tests. So we loaded in the cars and invaded the doctors office. His nurse must have been really upset, she messes up half of the tests and we had to have them re-done. Joey's came back positive, so the health department called and we had to try and figure out how he was exposed. After some internet searching the only thing we could figure out was my Mom had been exposed during her years as an E.M.T with the Kearsley Rescue Squad and she had not known. I found out a lot of people have exposure to TB and never know it until they are immune suppressed or have a TB test. This only meant he had been exposed so he had to go on medication for a year just in case he was ever immune suppressed. Not long after all that took place we started getting our final adoption papers. First Deebo then Joey and Ian. My older kids were leaving to go away to college. If I could have all my kids live me with me the rest of their lives and bring their spouses and children I would be one happy mama. But I had to cut the apron strings sometime so off they went. My pile was getting smaller and can you believe it I didn't like it. So the door was once again open and the calls started coming.
Three little boys who may have been TB exposed, no one would take them. I didn't have 3 opening but they would make an exception. OK see you in an hour. They were a temporary placement. They had only been out of foster care a few weeks, their mother brought them here from Ohio against court orders so they would be going back to Ohio foster care. They were a trio of cuties, one was 3 and a matching set of 4 year old twins. That evening after getting them bathed and putting them to bed me the queen of the laundry room washed their filthy clothes and coats.
A couple day later when DHS came to get the boys they were putting on their coats, one of the twins sniffed the sleeve looked at me with a big smile and said, "Hey Lady you washed our coats they smell so good thank-you". That almost made me cry to think a clean coat made these little boys so happy. I learned right then and there my kids took total advantage of me and my wonderful ability to remove stains. This was the first time I had ever been thanked for doing the laundry. Man I felt good.

Oh So Tiny

On August 29th I received a call, had I ever had a child with a tracheotomy? As a matter of fact no. They had a 10 year old with a tracheotomy that needs a temporary placement until another foster family gets back from vacation. She was in the hospital because they had no one to take her and was I willing to learn? Sure why not. I went to the hospital and met the little girl. The nurses showed me how to take care of the trach and what medical equipment I would take with us. Then the DHS worker came to meet me. He was so happy that she could go to a home he told me he owed me one. OK I want a baby, the next one you have to place call me. He said," Really"? Yep! He told me to follow him so I did right into the NICU. There in an incubator was the smallest baby I had ever seen. He weighed 2lb 8oz and was 12" long and was a week old. It was hard to see his face due to all the tubes but I had never seen such small hand and feet in my life. He would have fit in my purse. His nurse said he probably wouldn't be ready to go home for 3 months, he was born at 26 weeks no prenatal care and bio-mom did a lot of drugs. The worker looked at me and said do you still want him. Now that was a stupid question, he sure didn't know me to well.
The little girl stayed about 2 weeks and I didn't really hear anymore about the baby, which isn't unusual until they are ready to go home. So I was very surprised to get a call the 3rd week of October, I had to go to the hospital to learn C.P.R., apnea training, how to give him his 7 medications and  the importance of making sure he is fed 40cc of a high calorie formula every three hour around the clock. As I was leaving for the hospital I got a call from the social worker who informed me the baby could not go home, he had just stopped breathing and had to stay another week, but I was more than welcome to come take the training and hold the baby. Don't have to tell me twice I was there.
When they handed me Anthony I was afraid he would break. There was nothing to him so tiny and beautiful with a head full of blond hair and big blue eyes, he weigh a whopping 4lb 5oz. So I visited him everyday until it was time to take him home. But before we could leave they had to do a car seat test on him to see if he could breath in a sitting position. He failed so they gave him a lay down car seat that looked like an egg cut length wise in half. Weird but it worked, so homeward bound we were.

No more backward steps, it was onward and upward for me.

Loving Every Minute

I could not have ever imagined how hard it was to care for a preemie. The feedings, the medication, the apnea monitor going off all the time, weigh ins at the doctors office, visiting nurses, something was going on all the time. It's like being on high alert 24 hours a day. I managed and as Anthony grew stronger he would soon have to start visiting his parents. First they had to be clean from drugs, it took a while for mom and dad never came around. When they started it was hit or miss if  the mom would show up. Always an excuse no ride, slept too late, thought it was tomorrow, eventually  she started coming on a regular basis around the end of March after 5 clean drug screens. What a surprise she had in store, she was pregnant again due around the first of August. I was happy to see she was abstaining from drugs she was really going to give this baby a chance, I was proud of her and told her so. She was a very nice girl with a lot on her plate and she tried hard to change her life. On July 6, 2005 she gave birth to a beautiful baby girl she named Roselyn. Unfortunately she did not have a stable home as of yet so DHS asked us if we would like the baby placed with us. Yes we did but we didn't have an opening we had our quota according to foster care guide lines. So our licensing worker requested a variance so we could take Rosie home and keep the sibling together. On July 8 she was released to us. It was a sad day for the mom, she was trying and I gave her cuddos for that. We started visits with both babies a week later. Because Anthony had been in foster care longer and there was an older sister placed with paternal grandparents a termination trial had already been scheduled for them. That would proceed and the parental rights were terminated. Mom kept coming for visits with Rosie and trying to find a stable home but things just didn't work out for her. Around the time Rosie was 10 month the mom and I were leaving a visit when she said she was going to sign her parental  rights away. She told me she couldn't properly care for her and wanted to make sure we would adopt her. I had respected everything she tried to do to get her life in order, but for her to put this baby before herself I thought was the true act of a mother.
The psychic was kind of right  I did get sibling just not 2 girls. So here we were 14 kids, lord what was I thinking or not thinking ?

So I had reached the top of the laundry pile or so I thought. Fourteen was a nice even number besides I was getting way to old to stay up all night. Some of our kids were in their 20's it would soon be time for me to be a grandmother. I would get my baby fix during the day then send them home with their parents at night and I could sleep. Sounded real good to me. But for right now my pile runneth over.