Ryder

2 YEARS!

My last post was Dec 2013... plenty to update.

So first of all my last post was that I wouldn't be in the same place by this time 2014.  And that's true - and not.  Let's back up.

Before last week:
Todd and I have basically spent the past two years fighting for what we want: a family of our own and a space to put them in.  We have at time been on more infertility drugs than I would've thought possible, and been pre-qualified for a home loan, and have begged for my job to move me to Bentonville and suffered through IVF and loss and loss and loss.   It's felt like we are spinning our wheels and just digging deeper.  Little to no progress to be shown.

In March, we started the process to become foster parents.  In parallel, we kept talking to the Corporate power-holders about the (hopefully) pending move to Bentonville.  We finished our foster parent training by June, and then things really slowed.  I had travel planned for work and we had so many things that we had to get done before we could really make too much progress on the process.

In so many ways, going through the process taught us things that made us more prepared than the average new parent, and in others, I felt like we were more and more unprepared.  I went through phases of this is going to be great and this is never going to work.  Phases of feeling like we were plenty and other times when it seemed like what could we possibly offer?

After last week:
Boy, do I have a delightful mess to clean up!

Last Week, Wednesday, 9:00pm:
We got our first phone call to provide care to a foster child.  Actually two children.  13-year old boys.  I had let the strange phone number go to voicemail and then listening to the voicemail, my heart was pounding.  We hadn't received our temporary license yet.  In fact we had another home inspection planned in a couple of weeks.  Plus, 13!  Todd and I agreed that I should email our case worker and ask her what was up.... how could they place us with kids, without an official license?  As I was typing out the email, the phone rang again.  This time they asked us if we would be interested in helping out a 5-year old boy, Ryder.  I told them Foster agent that we wanted to help but weren't sure if we were actually allowed or not, without a license.  She told me we have a license number, so we could help.  Ryder was dropped off, wide awake, by 9:30pm.  An hour later, I felt like I had been through the ringer, I was exhausted, the dogs were freaking out, and Ryder wasn't tired in the least.  In fact, he was hungry, or thirsty, or wanted to go home, or sleep in our room, or on the dogs' beds or needed another story, or to brush his teeth again.... you get the idea?
At this point, I started to panic.  Here was this nearly year-long goal being accomplished, and I can't hack it. I can't calm him; I can't calm myself.
Todd was the hero that night.  He saw me panicking and went to the Kid Room and laid down on an extra mattress until Ryder was asleep.  I was grateful, but not exactly kind to Cassie for her freak-out.  I emailed my boss that I wouldn't be in tomorrow morning, our case worker to find out any details we could and silently berated myself for this failure.  I also told Todd that he couldn't go to work tomorrow either, in case I had another attack.

Last Week, Thursday, 5:00am:
After little to no sleep, it was finally a reasonable time to start doing things.  Off to the store for a booster seat ("What if something happens?? I can't legally drive the kid to the hospital!"), sausage (the night before when asked what he was hungry for, the answer was pancakes and sausages), and toilet paper (Really, Cassie? You let the house run out of toilet paper??!)  Then home to wait.  We waited for Ryder to wake up.  We waited for calls from the case workers.  We waited to see if Cassie was going to panic again. At about 9am, we started calling case workers to find out Ryder's routine. His pre-school started at noon.  A few minutes later, Ryder woke up, happy and ready to play.  Todd entertained him, while I made the pancakes and sausage.  Sure enough, that was a good choice - he ate like a champ. By 10:30am, I called my stress-level a 7 and sent Todd to work.  I could do this, I could do this, just keep swimming...  It went fine.  He was picked up at noon, I ran to work for a few hours to catch up at work then home by 4 to meet with DCF, Ryder and his case worker.  He was interviewed about his situation, and then the DCF interviewer again left me alone with this kid.  It was slightly unnerving the amount of trust they have in us.  Anyway, for this evening I had A Plan. And it went off without a hitch.  HE WAS ASLEEP BY 8:45PM.  Several hours alone with this great kid, dinner, bathtime AND a reasonable bedtime?  I wasn't a complete failure and one night's freak-out does not equal I can't do this, I don't get to have a family.

Last Week, Friday 4:15pm:
Friday's routine was pretty much the same except that afternoon, we got a call - the investigation was over, Ryder gets to go home.  A short way-station is what we were.  This is the good news you are mostly hoping for. It's hard, you hope home is the right place for Ryder.  And if it is, then it's really best he's there.  And we knew we were temporary place-holders for him.  But he was a good kid.  He fake sneezes and says "I got a bad cold."  Or "a bad cough."  Or "Oh my goodness, you are a silly goose."  Very polite, kind and generous.  He loved the dogs - called them "his buddies."  He also loved his room, dragging the DCF interviewer up to show her how "cool" it was.  He was a good kid, a great first foster case.  I hope he is in a good place.

Todd and I went and celebrated and re-hashed the week, what we wish, what we would do differently, how great that we survived and the dogs survived and the kid seemed happy and okay.

We can do this after all.

So, you see - I'm in the same place, but I'm not in the same place at all.

Progress Report - 1 year in

So hard to believe, but we've lived in KC now for a year.

I've lived a lot of places - I mean, a LOT.

It doesn't feel like home here.  It's not bad.  I'm not unhappy.  I don't hate it here.  I have people that I am friendly with - not friends, mind you, but they laugh at my jokes and don't seem to hate me.  My dogs have a little fenced yard.  I have a park nearby that allows fishing and boating and biking and walking and leaf picking.  My neighbors keep their yard picked up.  So what is missing?

Here's what I know: when I visit Mom and Dad in Rogers, I feel better.  When I visit with my friends in Abilene, I feel like I matter.  When I see the yucky old river where I used to fish, I still get mad about the litter bugs.  What is missing?  The connection to the place, the people.

And that can't be forced.  I could get a place a little further from the city  - but the commute.  Work must go on.  I could try harder to make a connection with some of the friend-likes.  But I've never been very good at the try to make a connection stage of life reboots.  If it will happen, it will happen.

But, for now, we accept.  We will continue to do this - and connect with whoever we can, when we can.  Wanna prediction?

We won't renew the lease in December 2014.

The effects of your feet up and your hair down

Somehow, I think I blog better with my feet up and my hair long.  You be the judge.

Today has been a loooong day.  This morning, I was at mom and dad's in Arkansas.  Today we Sprung Forward, lost an hour.  Last night, Beppo got sick around 5 am. Cleaning that up as clandestine-ly as possible was awesome, lost 30 minutes of sleep, probably.  We headed back to Lenexa and around 3:00pm I left for my first day volunteering at a Wildlife rescue!

Mostly it's a lot of chores - I did a lot of laundry, dishes, and swept and mopped the floor.  But... there is so much good and cuteness there!

I got to feed baby squirrels (Twice!) and help manage feeding the baby bunnies.  The bunnies are fed by feeding tube because they don't take to the bottle very well.  I wasn't comfortable doing that - apparently it is really easy to get the tube in the lungs and I was not comfortable with that idea.  I also held a Barred Owl while he was force fed some ... meat...  There is a snake there.  I told the supervisor the snake is the only thing I definitely don't think I will be comfortable with.  I can cut up ... meat ... prep the other food, secure animals with crazy talons, but I do not want to look at that snake.  She said that was fine, so that's good. :)

They have probably 10 different types of owls, 8 turtles, 1 snake (ick), a turkey vulture, a Golden and a Bald Eagle, peregrine falcons, kestrals, squirrels, rabbits, a possum, 7 chickens, at least 500 mice and rats, and probably some creature I am forgetting.  Most of the animals are in various stages of care, whether it's a broken wing, or nursery care, but some of the animals are permanently disabled and legally cannot be set free - they must be euthanized if Operation Wildlife had to set them free because they didn't have the resources or something.  But OWL is allowed to keep 2 of each of the species as educational and 1 of each as a foster parent, so there is a fair amount that can be saved.

All in all, very interesting and satisfying -  And ... BABY ANIMALS!

Broken Heart

I wish I had no feelings - no heart.

A man walked into a Connecticut elementary school today and killed 20 tiny kids.

Not that it would be ok, if they weren't young.

Three days ago, a guy walked into a Portland mall and randomly shot people in the mall.

I know it's not believable, but I feel so desperately sad when these terrible things happen, it's nearly a physical pain to me.  When the victims' families or the survivors describe their fear, and their relief or sadness depending on the result, I experience it as close to first hand as I ever want to be.  I can't possibly imagine that pain, that panic, but I cry.  I picture Mocket, Sarah, Dean, Sky.  I picture my mom, my dad, my boyfriend, my sisters, my brother, me.

And watching Facebook turn into practically a battle over gun control makes me more sick, more disgusted.  These are human beings and if we could just take a minute to really feel the situation, maybe (I know - this sounds vaguely like hope) the world could be a more compassionate place.  There is no understanding what causes a person to load up with ammo and walk into a mall, a movie theater - definitely not a kindergarten classroom  - and start shooting to kill.  But what if we tried to look at each other as people and see that there is something worth seeing in each other, maybe less people would feel the hate or frustration or loneliness that causes lashing out.  Not just with guns, but road rage, punching someone over someTHING on Black Friday, all those situations that are completely unfathomable for the average person... I just wish (if I have to continue to have feelings), we could all be a little more tender with each other.

We can debate gun control later.

My seeking has led me...

...where?   To this pay-by-the-week hotel in Mission, KS?  To chasing more money and hopefully better opportunities?  To a 3-bedroom townhome in the suburbs of Kansas City?

I have left Abilene for Kansas City.  I literally cried for the 1st hour of my drive.  I think I was mourning (and continue to mourn) my entire life.  A life where I can walk to my mom's house, where I can walk to a neighbor who would literally help me with anything.  A life where my boyfriend is right there all the time.  I know, I know - he will join me eventually, but right now, I am lonely.  I am mourning a life where I can babysit one of my nieces almost anytime I want.  I miss my dogs. I know - they will join me soon, too. I am mourning some true friends.  I have been through that almost every move I've made and time always helps this, but, in a way, I don't want time to help that.  It seems like with every move, I leave behind great people and over time I lose touch with them because we 'get used to it'.  I don't want to get used to it.  I want to miss them forever because I don't want to lose touch with them like I have most of the other great people I've left.  Stupid?  Maybe.  I am mourning an easy life, with little traffic and fields, and horses and easy parks.  I miss the ease.

I miss everything.

I can fix this if I hate it.  This is not South Korea.  I just have to make it for 4 more days and then I go back to the ease for the weekend.  Then I have to make it 5 more days, then a couple of things will be easier.  My boyfriend will be here, my dogs will be here and I will not have to deal with creeps in a pay-by-the-week hotel.

4 more days.

Ch...ch...ch...changes!

As we get closer to some very major changes for our family, I was feeling really contemplative this week.  I decided a drive and some pictures are in order.   I wish(!) these pictures could get close to the beauty that I see in my immediate area.  The biggest upcoming change is obviously - we are going to get a boy in this family in a mere 48 hours!!  A BOY.... we don't have any of those yet and I am so excited for us and for the Wareham sect of Lewis'.  In much less exciting changes - I have a big job interview in Kansas City on Monday...it could mean Todd and I have a major change in our landscape.  Todd is 100% supportive... basically if I feel like going is the right decision, we go.  If I feel like staying is better for us, we stay.  I'm wondering... is that what I want?  Have I out-grown Abilene?  Is it best for Todd and I (and potential future progeny) to be in the country or the city?  Can you have the best of both worlds?  I owe Abilene and The Campground so much...I learned to work on a mower, drive a backhoe, run a business, setting lines, cleaning a catfish, crops, how not to trim trees...... and what I could do myself.  How do I just leave?

finally!

Remember a couple of months ago when we talked about my flock growing? Well, it has! By 6, by jove!

Two weeks ago, I got six (!) 1-week old chicks! 3 hens of the red variety and 3 hens of the non-red variety. The store where I bought them does not specify exactly what breed they are, they are a mystery hen, Scooby Doo. Anyway, they are very cute and this weekend was spent hard hard at work, building them an adorable coop. There is still work to do, but between Todd, Mom and Dad and Rod's help, all we have left is fnishing work, and even I can do that. I am very proud of my little flock (even if they are kinda going through an ugly duckling (bumdumbump) phase as they get their adult feathers), our coop and following my path of independence and sustainability.... eggs (and probably home-grown poultry, if I can) here we come!