Thrive

I have decided on my Word of the Year. I had written a list of words that I was contemplating, hoping that something would start to stick out and it did. Not long after I wrote the previous blog, the word Thrive began jumping out at me and I seemed to see it everywhere. And it became clear to me that the suffocating stuck feeling I was getting from Stay was related to a desire to grow. So, Thrive seems like a good choice. For 2017 I hope to see my family, personal and work life thrive, to prosper and flourish, to advance, to grow vigorously. I don’t want to be stagnant, staying in one place, I want to move forward, be fortunate and successful, sloughing off all the bad juju from the past and accepting only positive momentum. For 2017 I want to THRIVE.  

A Sad Good-bye

The man who pulled all my baby teeth because I didn’t trust anyone else to do it, not even my dad. The man who taught me to ride a bike, calling, “Peddle, peddle, peddle!” as he jogged alongside me in his front yard. The man who drove the tractor carefully through the yellowed fields for my birthday hayride parties. The man who came over and built my basement door after heavy snows nearly collapsed the rotting wood. The man who took us into the meadow to see the baby calves and taught us how to hold the sweet clover for the cows to take from our hands. The man who helped us wrangle our 4-H sheep and pigs to get them loaded for the fairs. The man who let us sit in the wagon while he picked the field corn. He taught me the meaning of hard work and honesty. I was blessed and honored to call him my PopPop. His passing yesterday leaves and aching hole in my heart. He has been sick for so long and he has fought so hard to regain his strength. It was the stroke he suffered at the beginning of this year that ultimately ended in him giving up the fight. He was tired, his body was broken and no longer his own. His sense of independence was tortuously gone, having to rely on my Nana for every nuance of self-care. He was a good man and a wonderful grandfather. I was so fortunate to have spent so many happy times with him as a child. It seems unfathomable that I won’t ever hear his voice again with his thick Dutchy accent. Or be able to give him a hug. Or have him joke with us, which was his way of saying, “I love you.” As per his wishes, he will be cremated and my grandmother will hold keep his ashes until she can join him. They want to buried with their beloved dog Duchess, behind the pump house in their front yard. After 62 years of marriage my grandmother is having a hard time coping with the idea of being alone. She sobbed as the funeral home wheeled him out of the house early yesterday evening. She had hugged him and kissed his cheek telling him one last time she loved him and thanked him for “one heck of ride.” We sat with her for a few more hours, reminiscing about the good times, sharing our favorite stories from the past. My grandparents are simple, humble people. There will be no fanfare, no fancy funeral. The out-of-town relatives who weren’t there last night will trickle in to visit with her as 2016 comes to an end. The man who I had written about as my hero in third grade will never be forgotten, his memory will live on in each one of us. May he now rest in peace. Good-bye PopPop.

AAA and Enchiladas

We are having car trouble again. Seriously. I ran to the grocery store last night to grab a few things to prepare for tonight’s dinner with friends and when I got back out to the van it wouldn’t start. I called AAA (thankfully my parents gifted me a membership last Christmas and just renewed my membership again this Christmas) and asked to have my battery jumped because I thought that was the problem. When the AAA battery guy came the van still wouldn’t start. He said it was my starter. Fortunately, after about a half dozen clicks he got it started and I was able to drive home in time to put Love Bug to bed. Then I had dishes to wash and enchiladas to make because tonight my friend who lives on the other side of the state is coming to visit with her husband. I only see them once a year between Christmas and New Year’s. Today my dad came by the house in the morning and the same multi-clicks on the ignition got the van started so I could trundle us all off to daycare and work and my dad could drive the van home to repair the starter, which is only a year old, I might add. Unfortunately, when he brought the van back to me he locked the keys inside and I exhausted my 4 roadside assistance get out of jail free cards with AAA. Did you know it cost $50 to get your keys from inside your locked car? Sigh.

 

So, my friend who is coming to visit is a fellow PCOS sufferer. Her and I used to commiserate on our lack of ability in procreating but then I became single and a mom so we don’t chat as much as we used to. I think it was three years ago, just before Primero moved in, that I invited them over for an enchilada dinner. At the time I wasn’t in a very festive mood (I had been selected to take in a 3 week old baby only to find out a few days later he was going to an aunt – I call him the Christmas Miracle baby and you can read about him here and here. Since then it has become our tradition, which was fine when it was just me but has become more cumbersome with the children. I don’t want to throw my mom status in her face, but as a stay-at-home housewife, my friend has no idea how much coordination and hard work goes into preparing a meal, especially after working all day. I know inviting us over isn’t an option, since they stay with her parents, but maybe offering to bring food rather than adding more stress to my already burgeoning plate. I begrudgingly made the enchiladas last night and then washed the dishes and was able to sit down for 20 minutes before bedtime. In addition to the car troubles, we don’t have a working dryer and the sinus cold I thought I beat is back with a vengeance. I feel like poo and would much rather soak in a hot bubble bath than entertain guests. At least all I have to do is pop the enchiladas into the oven and whisk up some cilantro lime rice and dinner is good to go. Of course then there’s clean up….. Sigh.   

A Merry little Christmas

Christmas is finally over. I feel like I can breathe again, the pressure is off of me. Who knew playing Santa was so stressful? I’m not sure why, but I was fairly apathetic about the holidays this year. I was mostly going through the motions, not in a sad way, just in a sort of numb way. I procrastinated on getting gifts and ended up at the mall on Saturday to finish. I also intended to get pictures of the little ones with Santa but the line was too long and Love Bug was too grumpy from not getting his nap at the appropriate time. I felt bad about that, Chica Marie was looking forward to seeing Santa. Perfect Pinterest mom I am not. I mean, they did see Santa at the CHOR Christmas party and there are pictures from that! Sigh.

 

Christmas Eve we went to Primero’s uncles place. I was feeling nervous and reserved about going, based on the catastrophe that happened over Thanksgiving, but we ended up having a nice night. Apparently having his aunt back home (from her trip to help her daughter with the new baby) made all the difference. Everyone was in good moods and having fun chatting, teasing, playing with the kids and exchanging gifts. I spent a lot of time talking to Hermano’s girlfriend (I’m not actually sure that they are together) and snuggling with the baby. She told me something Primero had mentioned a few months ago but I didn’t believe because it was on the heels of him telling me the baby was autistic (not possible to diagnosis in an infant!). The baby has Down’s Syndrome. Somehow it wasn’t caught during the plethora of ultrasounds and testing. When Primero told me about the diagnosis I didn’t believe him simply because I erroneously believed this would be known based on the prenatal tests and ultrasounds done throughout the pregnancy. But, even this day and age science and medicine can be wrong, something can be missed. I listened to the girlfriend talk about taking on two jobs and scrimping and saving to get her little guy something for Christmas. Hermano is currently not working and it didn’t sound like he was putting a lot of effort into finding a new job. Having a baby with special needs is not going to make things any easier on them. Thankfully there are many free early intervention services they can use to help their little guy develop and meet important milestones. I know they’ve been helpful for Love Bug and he is improving slowly but surely.

 

Around 10 pm I asked Primero if he was ready to leave. He ignored me. His uncle ordered pizza. Once we all had a slice or two, I begged Primero to leave. It was late (after 11) and I was exhausted and still had gifts to wrap to prepare for the next day. Primero took a shower when we got home, leaving me to finish wrapping all by myself. I straightened up a bit before tucking the gifts under the tree and feel into bed close to 1 am. I asked Primero to be upstairs by 9 am the next day so we could open presents at our place and then head to the farm for brunch.

 

Christmas morning I woke up before Love Bug. Chica Marie was awake and chomping at the bit to start opening gifts. I held her off by doing her hair until Love Bug woke up. Then I slowly let them open gifts. At 9:15 I called Primero to wake him up. He was grumpy and sullen. He remained this way until well after we returned home from the farm. He wanted to go to his other uncle’s house and was angry that I didn’t let him leave on Christmas. He went there last night to spend the night. I know he said he wasn’t into the holidays this year, although he didn’t say why, and I’m sure this was reason for his moodiness, but it made me feel really crappy. He hardly talked to anyone at my parents place, choosing to sit on his phone playing the quintessential role of brooding teenager. It upset me that he acted that way when I made an effort, no matter how I felt about things with his uncle, to be cheery and have a good time visiting with his family. I haven’t yet had a chance to talk to him about what was bothering him. I know in the past he has been upset when seeing his family getting along so well because it reminds him of the times they were more cohesive and he wasn’t separated from them by adoption. I guess I can understand that to a certain extent but I also can’t because he has access to his family on a very consistent basis yet it never seems like enough to him; his need to be with his family is never satiated, it only seems to grow with every interaction. I try to think what it must be like as a teenager, but I can’t seem to grasp that feeling.

 

I think part of my feelings of apathy for Christmas and the holiday season this year stems from fighting with Primero to get him involved in our holiday traditions I’m trying to create for our family. He refuses to participate in most things and while I get that it isn’t cool for a teenager to do certain things, other things I feel are important. He wouldn’t help make cookies, he sat on his phone. He barely helped decorate the tree and grumbled about it the whole time. He didn’t want to go along to pick out the tree but I had already bought the train tickets (we took a train ride to pick out our tree, something different than we’ve ever done before!). He was irritated the whole time. He refused to attend church, which is common. Instead of going with us to see Christmas lights, he sat in the car and called me periodically to see if we were done yet. He didn’t want to open gifts or let me take pictures of him opening gifts. He almost refused to take our traditional family picture in front of the Christmas tree, but I got him to comply. The constant fighting makes me want to give up, shout “bahumbug!” and be done with it all. But, it especially hurts when he so readily complies with the traditions his family follows. It’s such a slap in the face.  

 

Despite Primero’s glum, Scrooge attitude, we managed to have a nice Christmas. I’m glad it’s over. We were invited to his uncles (again!) for New Years. I’m glad we had a nice time on Christmas Eve but I don’t know if I really want to go over again for New Years. I’d like it to be a more quiet night. Primero simply won’t skip it, so we will have to decide what’s happening. In the past we have stayed home, played games, pigged out and drank sparkling cider until the ball dropped then we would watch fireworks at the Pagoda out the back window. Maybe I’ll be doing that alone this year.

Mom Fail

A fellow blogger wrote “It was ugly. I, was ugly. I admit that because I'm not perfect. I think its a helpful reminder to read about other's admissions of imperfection, especially during the holidays when everyone is wearing matching sweaters, building insanely cute gingerbread houses, and sharing pictures of holiday gatherings.”

 

And I can so relate to this as my experience on Saturday. I wasn’t PMS-ing but I did come down with a sinus cold and was feeling exceptionally grumpy and not mom-like this weekend, especially Saturday. At one point I growled to the two small children, “All I want is for you to go away and leave me alone.” Ouch! They were just being kids, bouncing around the house and playing. But, my head was pounding and I just wanted to sleep. Primero had spent the night at his uncle’s house and so he wasn’t home to run interference. If I had been parenting myself I would have sent me to my room for being so crabby and unkind. It actually wouldn’t have been a punishment because all I really wanted to do was nap. I did not get out of my pajamas all day on Saturday. I did manage to make us dinner but that was pretty much my only accomplishment of the day. There was an ice/slush storm that cancelled all of our plans for the day, so I felt no need to put on regular clothing. Or a bra. I did take a shower and change into fresh pajamas before going to bed.

 

So there you have it, my mom-fail confession. I was ugly. I was grumpy. I said mean things I didn’t mean. We all survived and Sunday was a better day.

New Levels of Frustration

It’s pointless to bemoan the absurdity of the system time and time again. It’s pointless to get justifiably angry when so many professionals seem to be yanking the chain of two small children, keeping their lives on pause. It’s pointless to sit and ponder why there isn’t someone, somewhere who can actually *DO* something about this atrocity.

 

TPR was supposed to occur for the little one’s last week. Today I got the courage to ask our CHOR case worker if she heard anything. She emailed me the response she got from the county case worker – " Unfortunately due to Mother’s attorney being in the hospital with heart issues as well as other personal issues the hearing was continued by Judge L until January 30, 2017.”

 

My response to her was:

 

There are no words. I have reached a whole new level of frustration.

A Fable

Chica Marie has been having trouble telling the truth. She makes up stories, things that have the potential to land someone in very hot water, and she insists they are true. Until, that is, all the players and by-standers are questioned and it turns out Chica Marie told a whopper. Some of the things she reports fall apart when she is questioned, some of them are refuted by her TSS worker or teacher, some we might never know the actual truth. I can only guess she does it for attention, but I am trying to teach her the serious ramifications of telling fibs. So, I told her a very animated version of Aesop’s fable about the boy who cried wolf. She liked the story and has asked me to tell it a few times. We always end the story by saying what it teaches us. Last night, on the drive home Chica Marie told me her version of the story. She included my glib line about the shepherd boy being bored since this was in the olden days and he didn’t have a phone or IPad to entertain him while he watched the flock. At the end of her lengthened rendition, she recounted what we learned. In her words, “We shouldn’t cry wolf when there is no wolf and also, we shouldn’t watch sheep when we’re bored.” Aesop could not have said it better himself…..

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The End of Stay

For this year (2016) I chose the word Stay as my word of the year. At the time, it felt homey and warm. I was struggling with deciding to continue moving forward with the (still) pending adoption for Chica Marie and we were hosting Esperanza and trying to envelope her into the folds of our family. Stay felt comforting, it felt welcoming. Now, as 2016 is nearing an end, Stay feels constrictive. It feels stagnant and stifling. I guess I’m ready for a new word.

 

This year I want a strong word. I want something that has some teeth to it, something with power that will last the entire year. As the year anniversary of Primero’s adoption passed, I thought about how certain I felt 2016 would be the year of my second adoption. Sadly, with TPR only scheduled for this month, adoption for the little one’s really isn’t much closer than it was a year ago. I think this stagnation in their case is what has turned my word Stay sour. I don’t want to stay stuck forever in this foster care limbo. I want to be able to find a conclusion and grow together as a family. I’ve come up with a list of possible Words of the Year and have them listed below. I’m seeking some sort of epiphany into which word to choose. Focus was the first word that came to me but Thrive and Exceptional are starting to win me over. I’ll be mulling over these words for the next few weeks as I ponder the end to 2016 and what hope lies ahead in 2017.

 

GRACE - the free and unmerited favor of God, simple elegance or refinement of movement

FOCUS - the state or quality of having or producing clear visual definition, pay particular attention to

INTENTIONAL - done on purpose; deliberate

FULL - not lacking or omitting anything; complete

TRUST - firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something

CONTENT - in a state of peaceful happiness, a state of satisfaction

THRIVE - grow or develop well or vigorously, prosper; flourish

DILIGENT - having or showing care and conscientiousness in one's work or duties

POSITIVE - with no possibility of doubt; clear and definite, a good, affirmative, or constructive quality or attribute

ABUNDANCE - a very large quantity of something

ACCOMPLISH - achieve or complete successfully

BLOSSOM - a peak period or stage of development

CONSISTENT - unchanging in achievement or effect over a period of time, compatible or in agreement with something

DETERMINATION - firmness of purpose; resoluteness

EXCEPTIONAL - unusually good; outstanding, unusual; not typical

DISCERNING - having or showing good judgment

WORTHY - deserving effort, attention, or respect

Alone

Last Thursday I took Primero and the kids to visit Esperanza in the hospital. She was suffering from a burst ovarian cyst and being monitored for any complications. Primero insisted on visiting her, following an emotional morning phone call from his mom. While I knew Esperanza was going to be fine, Primero and his mom seemed be believe she was in dire condition. Primero wanted to walk there after school but I didn’t want him crossing so many busy roads at rush hour with it getting dark so early. I told him to wait until I got home and I would take him over. I thought I could just wait in the lobby area with the little ones while Primero visited with his sister to see she was going to be ok and then we could go back home. It wasn’t long after Primero disappeared that his mother came out and waved us to follow her into Esperanza’s room.

 

Things were going well, or as well as could be expected with two rambunctious children in a hospital room. We had been there for 30 minutes or so when Primero’s mom grabbed her phone and left the room. I assumed she was taking a smoke break until a few minutes later when Primero looked at his phone and then left the room. Before his mother left, Primero had mentioned their aunt who had been with their uncle who passed away, planned on visiting with Esperanza. The aunt showed up not long after Primero and his mom left the room. She stayed and chatted for a bit before needing to return to her shift in the ER. She is expecting a baby in April and, after two girls, she is having a boy. Primero is distraught, accusing her of replacing him (she had helped to raise Primero when he was small). The kids were growing more antsy and rowdy by the minute and Esperanza was dozing off from her meds. I text Primero that it was time for us to go. He came back into the room to ask me if we could take his mom home to her place to get some things and bring her back to the hospital. Sighing, I agreed. Primero left the room and didn’t come back, so I decided to get the kids ready and take our leave so we could find him and go.

 

We found Primero, his mom and aunt in the guest lobby at the end of the hall. His mom was sobbing and recounting to the aunt all she had given up to move back to town a few weeks ago. She lamented the death of her boyfriend and relayed how it hurt her when her brother told her she shouldn’t be mourning him because they weren’t together that long. Eventually, she stopped crying and we were able to leave. We had a long walk back to the van with two tired kids. We drove Primero’s mom across town to her place. She had found a ride back to the hospital, so we didn’t have to take her back. We dropped her off and Primero asked to drive home. I was grateful because the drama of the evening had drained me. I expressed that to Primero, how it is hard for me to be around his mom because I have never spent time with her and not have had some form of blow-out or melodramatics derail the visit. I also explained that my natural reaction to someone in the throes of drama is to go nearly catatonic. I withdraw, hoping my absence of drama will somehow balance the over-dramatic and we can once again reach an equilibrium. Sadly, it just doesn’t work that way and for Primero’s mom, it makes me seem stand-offish.

 

I am struggling with what to do about Christmas. I mentioned a portion of what happened at Thanksgiving here, but other things happened that I feel make it hard for me to visit, especially with the little ones. Primero mentioned not being in the Christmas spirit this year when we were at the laundromat last night (our “new” dryer broke over the weekend). I have been putting off the discussion I know I need to have with him because I don’t want to fight, but I am contemplating not going to his uncle’s place (assuming we will be invited). I just can’t have the little ones around some of the things that transpired there, not just because I don’t agree with it but because they are in foster care and I have to report these things. I haven’t heard anything back from my case worker after telling her what happened over Thanksgiving, but I wouldn’t be surprised to hear they don’t want the kids to visit. I’ve been reading (for months now because I don’t get much free time to read) Lori Holden’s book “The Open-Hearted Way to Open Adoption” in hopes of finding my way in this tangled path, but I’m still confused. I promised Primero to be open, I promised him I would treat his family as my own. But, in all honesty, if this were my family I think I would be more harsh and less-forgiving. The decision to not come around would be very easy to make. I’ve thought about reaching out to Primero’s old case worker because I know he still talks to her and she seems to understand him. But, I don’t want to impose on her time, she is no longer our case worker and she has her own life. I tried posting on an adoption website, thinking people would “get it” but mostly I was berated for contemplating going back to a situation that had the potential for problems for the little ones and Primero alike. It was suggested I find a neutral place to visit, like a bowling alley or pizza place. That isn’t realistic on Christmas day for one, but it would also limit the people Primero would be able to see, since not everyone who goes to his uncle’s would be willing to meet us out somewhere. Besides, there is really no way for me to even float this as an idea because his uncle doesn’t have direct contact with me, despite my efforts. I don’t know what to do. Do I keep visiting and hope for a better outcome? That sounds an awful lot like insanity. Do I stop visiting and try my best to deal with the painful fall-out and potentially losing Primero? I feel like I’m at a cross-roads and yet I don’t like either path that lies before me. I’m always one who seems middle ground a place of compromise. But, I can’t get there by myself and I feel hopeless in trying to have an adult conversation with Primero’s uncle because he shuns me and shuts me out. Mostly, I feel alone. No one understands me, no one understands our situation. And no one can help me through this.

Hoarding

A few weeks ago I wrote Primero and I were cleaning out our basement storage area. When not reminiscing about his own tumultuous past and lack of childhood mementos, Primero was complaining about my hoarding tendencies (I’m not a hoarder, let’s be clear on that! I do keep potentially useful things, but who doesn’t?). He wanted to throw out all the baby paraphernalia I had stashed in the basement because, as he put it, it’s not like we’re getting another baby. I mostly ignored his request and found places to squirrel away the items, but internally I questioned myself. Why am I holding on to outgrown car seats, swings and baby baths? Similarly, why do I have a hardy stash of children’s clothing, for both genders, ages newborn to 5T tucked under my bed? Am I simply hoarding child items because of the memories attached to them or do I hope to use them again in the future? I guess I had envisioned myself continuing to foster children, even after the three I have now are adopted. I suppose that is a pipe dream, since the house is so small and therefore I can only be licensed for three kids. I guess part of it stems from my feelings that my family is unfinished, although I don’t know why I feel that way. Maybe because I don’t have a partner? So, I tuck away the things I might need if I ever get another foster care placement, with no real game-plan in sight. I’m sure, at some point, I will get to a place emotionally where I can part with these unneeded things, but for the time being they are stored in my basement.

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One Year Adopted

Today marks one year since Primero was adopted. This past year has really tested us and I’m sure the coming year will hold its own handful of problems. I want to remember this day as a happy day but I think I’ve seen too much in adoption to really wax poetical. I love my son and I am blessed to have him in my life. I just sense from him he would rather not mark the occasion, so I temper my joy to an internal celebration. Here is a look back at this special day a year ago.

Best Companies for Infertiles

I found this article while bouncing around on LinkedIn today. It was interesting, so I shared. I can relate to the have's and the have not's in regards to what insurance will cover for infertility treatments. I work for the state, a good job with good benefits. Unless you count infertility treatment as a benefit, then I get zilch. Too bad I didn't know about these other places....

Belated Thanksgiving

I finally got around to posting what I wrote about our Thanksgiving.


We survived Thanksgiving. Not without incident, but at least Primero and I didn't fight. We had dinner at my aunt and uncle's place first. There were less people there this year than in the past. My sister was notably missing because she decided to celebrate Thanksgiving with her husband in their new house. My aunt and maternal grandparents were also absent. My mom wasn't feeling good, so my parents didn't stay too long. My cousin, who sometimes babysits, ate and left to spend time with her boyfriend’s family. And so, it was rather quiet. Still, the food was good and Primero actually sat and talked to me, instead of staying hidden in his phone. He was still on his phone, announcing what was happening at his uncle's place.



As was pre-planned, we stayed at my aunt and uncles place until 6:30 and then left for his uncle's place, arriving just before 7. When we got there and Primero opened his door, he groaned, "Uh-oh, I hope that's not coming from my uncle's place." Someone had just stormed out of the house, swearing. His mom was soon to follow and we all walked past her, oblivious to what was happening inside the house. We had barely walked inside when I could hear shouting, cursing, and threats. It was apparent something had happened and everyone was very agitated. I stood awkwardly near the front door, imploring the little ones to keep their jackets on as I was worried the altercation would escalate into chaos and we would need to quickly leave. After a few minutes of shouting, of Primero being directed to take his mom upstairs and talk to her, I heard his uncle yell, "Get the f$@# out of my house!" Some brief scuffling ensued before things seemed to calm down. Primero followed his mom downstairs and his aunt, who had been outside crying, came back inside. The tension slowly began to dissipate and I felt comfortable enough to take the kids jackets off. I found out later that Primero's grandfather had, rudely, said to his aunt, "You aren't dead yet?" This rude comment was made to a woman who survived two heart attacks and has a permanent raspy voice due to a tracheotomy. The ensuing fall-out nearly ended the Thanksgiving celebration, but luckily things calmed down once the grandfather was ejected from the house and soon the party was back in full swing.



There was a striking difference between my aunt and uncle’s place and Primero’s aunt and uncles place, most noticeable in the noise level. I was surprised the kids held up as well as they did, with only minor break-downs due to being up much later than usual. I found that dividing our time equally helped to keep our unmet expectations from starting a fight. The only hiccup I felt we incurred was when Primero asked to spend the night at his other uncle’s place. He did this same thing the last time we were at a family function and it grates on me because a) I hate the last-minute planning thing and b) it’s frustrating to make plans and then have them re-routed because a better offer came along. Still, the holiday goes down in history as the first one we didn’t have a quarrel and for that I am grateful.

He Adores You

Last Friday I got a phone call from Primero’s new IEP teacher. He had recently asked her to be his IEP teacher, since his previous one became his math teacher this year. I expressed approval because I know he likes this teacher and if he likes a teacher there is a greater chance he will ask for help when he needs it and not just give up and fail, as has been his M.O. in the past. So, the teacher calls me to set up a time to meet this week to discuss and renew his IEP. During the course of our conversation she said, “It is evident how much he adores you.” I don’t actually remember what we were discussing when she said this because my mind went off into a thousand different directions. I wonder what he says about me in school that makes this so evident to someone who has never met me? Or was she just trying to compliment me, to make me feel good about the shortcomings of Primero’s early education? And while I know Primero is fond of me and loves me, I don’t know that I would use the word “adore” to describe our relationship. But, sure random teacher who I will meet later this week, let’s go with adore.

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