Drama Momma

Wednesday night I was a momma in some serious drama. Things from this past weekend were still not settled and in fact went totally off the track Wednesday night. Primero ran away. I thought he was running with his sister and their friend (who is also 18) but I found out via Facebook that he was not with them. Because his sister feared police involvement she decided to let her 16 year old brother roam the streets at night alone. She had no idea where he was going or what he would do when she made the decision to not let him come along with them. And, because she was mad at me, she didn’t even have the decency to text me and let me know he was off alone. I text Primero (he wouldn’t answer my call) that he had until 10 to come home because I thought he was with his sister at their friend’s house. He was not. He refuses to tell anyone where he went, but said he was safe at a friend’s house. He didn’t come home by 10 so I did call the police. And I tried frantically trying to find out where he was. Sadly, I only started doing that when I realized he wasn’t where I assumed he was at, which was two hours after he left. I cannot describe the feeling of utter dread that washed over my body when I came to the realization that my son was somewhere, professing to be “safe” but no one knew where he was. I’m not gonna lie, I totally lost my mind. I was talking to his former CHOR case worker (because, like I said I was contacting EVERYONE to reach out to him) and couldn’t even breathe I was sobbing so hard. The police officer who came to my house was young, maybe my age but I suspect he was younger. He was nice and matter-of-fact. I think he handled the situation well, but at one point he indicated that the police have a lot on their plate (duh) and there had been a stabbing in the city not far from here. Let me tell you, this was the closest I have ever come to a full-on panic attack. Had it been the 1800’s I might have swooned. I needed my son home that very minute! Luckily, he talked to his case worker. Not at first, but eventually he began to calm down and speak to her. His aunt contacted me via Facebook after I asked if Primero went to their house (he could conceivably walk there, they don’t live that far) and then she called his oldest brother Mr. J. Poor Mr. J was totally out of it, he was fast asleep because he had to be up early for work. He called me and said he spoke with Primero and that he was fine and at a friend’s house. I said that wasn’t good enough and the cop took my phone to talk to Mr. J. The cop explained that I was filing a missing person’s report for Primero. He said there was a limited time frame where he could delay initiating the report in the database, but once he did that the cops would need to physically see Primero in my custody before they could stop searching for him. And, if Primero did this as a habit, they could put him in a juvenile facility (where Primero landed right before he came into care – although he was there in the shelter, not the side for wayward teens). Of course, this was the angle Mr. J played up to Primero to force him home. Primero agreed to meet his brother at a gas station and to come home. But, he refused to talk to me. He text me that he hated me. Well, you really aren’t parenting a teenager if you don’t get told at least once that you are hated. Like I said, I would give anything to have him back home, so when he marched into the house in full defiance mode, not even glancing at me, I said not one word to him. I thanked his brother and went to my bedroom. Primero took a very long shower (to annoy me I suspect) and went to his room. All I wanted to do was hug him, but I refrained and satisfied myself with watching his defiant back disappear downstairs to his room.

 

Primero and I managed to talk yesterday to work things out. He is worried about his sister, which I understand, but I told him he is my priority right now. Not to say I don’t care about Esperanza, but I need to make sure we are ok first. Things are improving with us. In many ways Primero is more mature than his older sister. He is certainly more reasonable. Maybe it’s just because Primero and I have had more time together to work out these kinks. Or maybe it’s because Primero knows deep down that whatever I do, even if I’m acting like a total bitch, I never stop loving him and caring about him. And I think, no matter how angry he gets, he trusts that. If nothing else, Primero trusts that I love him. With that at the core, I think he knows we can always reassemble our relationship if we need to and we can always figure things out because we always have. This is the first big fight Esperanza has had with me. And she doesn’t trust that I love and care for her. She thinks I’m against her. She thinks she is disposable to me because she has been to every other adult who claimed to care about her. The reason this blew up Wednesday night? Because I said I was beginning to understand her previous guardian’s side of things. I didn’t say I thought what that guardian did was right or that it meant Esperanza was undesirable in any way, just that she is not easy to resolve problems with. Teenagers who grew up in loving homes with two parents, plenty of food, no attachment issues, and living comfortably middle class are still drama-filled hooligans from time to time. Take my brother as an example. But, kids who grew up with trauma, instability, and dysfunction take drama to a whole new level. It is clear to every adult I speak with that Esperanza is not acting her age. It is clear she is acting more like a 14 year old than like an 18 year old. Unfortunately, that doesn’t matter to the law. Legally she is an adult, even if she is truly incapable of acting like one. And, sadly, she cannot see past her trauma to recognize when someone truly cares about her. She doesn’t trust me, she doesn’t trust my love or even believe I love her. She thinks it’s me against her or that I’m the one making a big deal out of things. I’ve spoken to her school social worker, who tried to set up a meeting with the two of us and she is obviously concerned with Esperanza’s academic future. But, agrees that perhaps Esperanza just needs to make some poor choices before she learns the hard way. In any event, I’m hoping this weekend will be a lot less dramatic.

Toothless

No one told me I had lost my right front tooth. I didn’t even realize it was gone until I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and stared in horror at the gaping hole between my remaining front tooth and the cusped to the right. I ran my tongue over my teeth and confirmed the tooth was indeed missing. My stomach started to burn as the realization hit home. I needed to find that tooth! Why didn’t the dentist say anything about this possibility? I was just there and given a clean bill of dental health! I searched around me and found my tooth then illogically popped it into my mouth for safe keeping until I could get to the dentist. I shuddered to think of the procedure necessary to fix this dental nightmare but it must be done. Primero and Esperanza began making fun of me in my condition, telling me I looked like a 2-bit crack whore and asking me to whistle. My cheeks burned with shame and I cancelled all social functions until I could see the dentist. Then, I felt my tooth dissolving in my mouth. I tried to spit it out, to stop the erosion, but I was too late. The tooth crumbled, broke in two and was lost.

 

I woke up to the baby crying. Before I picked him up I reached into my mouth. My teeth were fine. My stomach still ached, but the dream was not real. I dreamt of losing teeth once before and sat bolt upright in bed thinking I would be spitting my molars into my hands as I had been doing in my dream. It felt so realistic I was sobbing and couldn’t fall back asleep, waking Flaco to reassure me my teeth were fine. This dream was less realistic and certainly indicative of my predicament with Esperanza and Primero. A quick Google search revealed dreams about losing teeth tend to be fueled by anxiety or having trouble with making an undesirable decision or compromise. This seems pretty spot on for me at the moment. I can’t remember what was going on when I had the last tooth dream, if I was experiencing the same level of anxiety regarding a decision or compromise. I really hope I don’t have the same dream again tonight because it really creeps me out. I have a phobia of losing my teeth, probably because my grandparents were not the picture of dental hygiene and lost their teeth to devastating tooth decay. I hope the drama and stress from the Esperanza situation (I haven’t really relayed all the details because it’s just too exhausting for me to rehash it all here, but there’s a lot of disrespect going around with this situation) dies down very soon because I’m beginning to feel the physical toll from the emotional stress.

 

Yesterday Love Bug had a hearing test done. I think this poor boy has had every test done on a baby that one can have. He had his hips checked because of the position he was in when he was born (this was when he was only a few months old). When he was evaluated for early intervention (he is getting occupational therapy because he was delayed a bit with his gross motor skills – he’s catching up and now working on some fine motor skills) he fell asleep and was snoring, so it was suggested he be evaluated for problems with his tonsils and adenoids (they were fine). Probably due to the detox he was going through, but when he was very little I thought it looked like he might have a lazy eye. When we went to the eye doctor it turned out he might have astigmatism, so we are going back the end of this month for a reevaluation. He was observed by a speech therapist because he seemed to be progressing and then he stopped. She didn’t think he qualified at this time, but did recommend he get his hearing tested to make sure there wasn’t an issue with his ears (she also mentioned his teeth were being affected by his constant finger sucking, so the PCP asked for me to take him to the pediatric dentist – I still need to set up this appointment). So, we had his hearing tested yesterday. He was grumpy because he was a little sleepy and also because he wanted me to hold him with his head on my chest, not facing the speakers and window where the audiologist was sitting. He calmed down and cooperated. Then there were a few tests with little wires stuck in his ears and he was fussy again, but the audiologist managed to get the tests done and declared there were no issues with his hearing. So, Mr. Love Bug will just need to start speaking in his own time, when he feels like it. Which is pretty much how he’s done every milestone, on his own terms. There really was no coaxing him to sit up, he would refuse and push himself prostrate. When he was encouraged to crawl, he just laid down. He would be ok standing on my lap, but if I put him on the floor he would crumple to his knees. I tried holding both of his hands and wiggling him back and forth to take a step and he would just hang there. When he was ready, he sat up on his own like he always knew how. When no one was watching he started to push army crawl backwards and push up on his hands and knees. He stood on his own, pulling up on furniture. And he walked without holding my hand. So, I keep trying, I talk to him all the time and name things he points at, but thus far he has little interest in repeating me, he just watches my lips form words and make sounds. He does make noise and says a few words, mostly his bigger siblings nicknames, but he doesn’t seem interested in parroting what I say or creating one or two word sentences. I guess he will talk when he’s good and ready!

Getting off the Drama Train

We had a very drama-filled weekend. Esperanza had a fight with Primero over something she was told he said. Did you follow that? She was upset because a supposed “friend” told her that Primero said something to the effect “well, if she’s 18 then why did she have to come to us for help?” And this resulted in her storming off and refusing to talk to Primero or me. All because of a rumor. I tried to talk to her at the house before she ran off, but she wouldn’t discuss the issue with me. Later over text she told me that’s just how she is, she doesn’t talk about things and I can’t change her. Er, what? The whole drama simply showed how emotionally immature she is, despite her chronological age. As an adult, it is not acceptable that if I were to get upset over something I just run off. And, even worse than that, when she did come back she acted like nothing had happened. No. Not acceptable. I have plans to have a serious heart-to-heart with her because the whole thing is simply insane. My heart really broke for Primero because at one point Sunday afternoon he broke down in tears. He felt like he lost his sister and it hurt him more than words could say. Primero is not prone to tears. The only other time I saw him cry was after court with his mother last spring when it seemed like everything was going exceptionally well and Hermano would move back home very soon, while TPR was looming for Primero. That too broke my heart.

It’s strange how my word of the year, stay, popped into my head during this whole debacle. When I was trying to get Esperanza to see herself as a part of our family, the word stay flashed in my mind and it came back several times during the ensuing madness. We have gotten so used to Esperanza’s presence in our lives that it seems hard to imagine how things would be without her around. I know it would be exceptionally hard for Primero because he’s so happy to have a piece of his original family with him and thoroughly involved in his life. The trouble with the word stay is that it needs voluntary cooperation from the other party for it to work. This complicates things since everyone has their own free will and can make choices that jeopardize the act of staying. One might attempt to stay the hand of another, but ultimately, they will be unsuccessful if the other is not willing to participate. Oddly, this leads to another stay idiom, which is to stay the course, meaning keep on keeping no matter the obstacle. And I think both of those ideas were what was on my mind regarding Esperanza. No one has ever stayed the course with her. She even admits that herself. Whenever she had a blow up issue occur the result was she found herself out on her ear, tossed away with her problem to land on someone else’s doorstep. Why then shouldn’t her reaction to problems be to run away? So, I must stay the course and try to overcome the obstacle of her past to help her through it as well. It’s not an easy thing. Just like it isn’t easy helping Chica Marie through her issues. Fortunately, Primero and I click a little more and our personalities align a little better in terms of dealing with conflict than do mine and Esperanza’s. That doesn’t mean we can’t make it work, it just means there’s going to have to be a lot of give and take to reach mutual understanding.

 

I became a foster parent officially on 12/6/2011. Never did I envision myself where I am today four years ago. Some of that was naïveté – I assumed I would still be married and I assumed adoption would be hard at first and then get easier. I was wrong on both accounts. I was wrong in my assumptions about Flaco and his true desires for a family and his feelings towards me. I was also wrong to think adoption got easier. It doesn’t get easier, you just get better at it and more accustomed to the drama it can create in your life. You get better at putting on your big girl panties and dealing with it. I remember speaking to Primero’s therapist who likened adoption to marriage, in that two families became one. I saw this from Primero’s point of view, but I didn’t consider it from my own. Yet, I’m as much a part of Primero’s family as he is a part of mine. Our lives have become entwined to the point that I’m trying to help (and parent, as much as she will let me) his older sister, while worrying about his older brother (Hermano) and trying to stay in touch with his eldest brother (let’s name him Mr. J) and younger sisters (we are hoping to go to his younger sister’s game this week to watch her cheerlead). I’m known to all of them (although I’ve had much less interaction with his youngest sister because sadly her father doesn’t let her spend much time with her siblings) and even connected through social media. We spend holiday’s with his aunt and uncle and I’m getting to know some of his cousins. These are things that I had never considered, in fact it never entered my mind. In part, I think this is because I never had the intentions of adopting an older child who would have a greater connection to biological family, but also because I simply had no clue how this whole adoption thing worked. I think I’m still learning and I know I’m still growing into my role as adoptive/foster/acting mom. I wish I could say I “got this” and knew how to handle every situation I find myself in, but I don’t. I wish I could say I always remembered to check my expectations and preconceived notions about certain behaviors or developmental progress, but I can’t lie and say I haven’t been frustrated in dealing with certain things. And I don’t always hold my tongue when I should stay quiet or speak up at the right time so I don’t miss the boat. Nothing leaves me second-guessing myself like parenthood!    

Time

Primero lived with me for 650 days before he was adopted. He spent a total of 891 days in foster care. Love Bug has been with me for 578 days. He will hit Primero’s 650 day mark on April 10^th and 891 days in care for Love Bug would be December 7, 2016. For Chica Marie, she has been with me for 544 days. On May 13^th she will be with me for 650 days. But, like Primero, she lived with a different foster home before she moved in with me. I’m not sure of the exact date when she came into care, but sometime around June 11,2016 she will hit 891 days. When we had court in December and it seemed like things were moving towards TPR, the CHOR case worker whispered to me she hoped the children would be adopted before the next court date in May. I flat out told her I held no such hope (and still don’t since we’re in the final days of January and, as far as I know, nothing has happened with TPR or anything else). So, if it felt like things took forever for Primero to reach finalization, I’m sure it will feel like an eternity for the little ones to get there. I wouldn’t be surprised if Love Bug beat Primero’s 891 days which would mean an adoption sometime the end of this year. I feel fairly confident that Chica Marie will surpass 891 days in foster care. If December is their adoption date it would mean she has spent all but half of her life in foster care. She had just turned 3 when she and Mini Momma came into care and in December 2016 she will be 6 years old. For Love Bug, he will have spent the first 2 ½ years of his life in foster care. It makes me sad and angry that so much time passes with children in limbo. Of course I understand the reason and how steps must be taken to ensure the children’s biological parents get every opportunity to work their case plan and regain custody of their children, but from the side of the child, that doesn’t make it suck any less. This is the imperfection of the system. Sure, in an ideal world, no parent would need more than 15 of the last 22 months to work their given plan for reunification. But, that’s not how things work. Honestly, the steps towards TPR should have begun in June when the county decided and the judge agreed to suspend visits. While on the surface that might seem like a very minor thing, in reality it is HUGE! Visits with parents are taken very seriously in foster care and, because it is not only a right but also proven to be beneficial in reunification, it isn’t easy to convince courts to stop visits. The fact that this case languished from July until December with (seemingly – because of course things could be going on behind the scenes without me knowing) no movement or change in plans is preposterous. Granted, I was more wrapped up in completing all the steps and paperwork for Primero’s adoption, but regardless the little one’s should not have to keep waiting for “something” to happen in their case! We are supposed to have a planning meeting in February for the little ones. Our new case worker just set it up with me last night. And, although we picked a date and time, it will hinge upon the other players invited to the meeting, like their mother, the county case worker, and the CHOR supervisor. I find that often times the planning meetings turn into just me and the case worker with the county worker either phoning in or following up with an email. The last planning meeting I had was for Love Bug with his initial case worker (that’s 4 case workers ago!) and the previous county worker when I revealed from the grandmother that she thought their mom was pregnant again. (here) (and here) So, you can see how long ago that was! In any event, I do hope the planning meeting happens and that some updates are given in regards to their case. I’m also curious to know when (if?) Mini Momma will be moving with their grandmother so I can contact her for visits and not the foster mom. It’s not that I don’t like the foster mom but I feel like asking for visits is such a burden for her, even though I’m the one taking on an extra child and I pick her up and drop her off for the visit. I’ve been thinking about when we could have a visit again but I’ve been hesitant to contact the foster mom for fear I’ll get an earful on her behaviors again. Sigh.

 

In other news, my grandfather is in the hospital again. My dad had to all but rent a dog sled team to get him from the farm to the hospital following the blizzard on Sunday. They were in my uncle’s pick-up truck and got stuck next to the state plow trucks, but were fortunate enough to be near a neighboring farm with a tractor and chains to pull them out. The harrowing journey continued with much sliding and risk of getting stuck on the snow-covered roads, but they did eventually make it to the hospital. My grandfather was suffering from a severe bladder infection that the antibiotics weren’t able to eradicate. He was admitted to the hospital with severe dehydration in addition to the bladder infection. My mom called me yesterday warning me things were not looking good, that there was talk of surgery to replace a stent in his bladder and add shunts to his kidneys and give him a feeding tube because he refused to eat. When I spoke to my dad about it later he said my grandmother asked him and my uncle for their opinion and my dad felt it was important to ask my grandfather. My grandfather suffered a stroke right before Christmas and a second, greater stroke while visiting my cousin in Florida right after the new year. The first stroke left him with some weakness in his left side that was slowly improving (he’s left-handed, so that was hard for him). The second stroke affected his cognition and memory. He couldn’t remember who anyone was except for my grandmother. When I went to visit him in the hospital last night he remembered me. I don’t think he could have placed my name (my grandmother told him my name) but he recognized me. His speech is slurred and hard to understand most of the time, but he can answer yes and no questions and he said twice, “I love you” to me. We cried together and I hugged him and held his hand until he was calm and fell back asleep. I worry about my grandmother, who is 4 years his senior but as strong as an ox. Her heart doctor told her she’ll live to be 100 because her heart is nearly as strong as her will. My grandmother, who has been married to my grandfather for over 61 years (!!!!), sleeps on a chair in his room and only goes home for a few hours to shower and replenish her food stash. She doesn’t like to leave his side, which has been the same for all these years that he’s been unwell. My grandmother has always been my grandfather’s rock. I worry about her because she is emptying so much of herself into my grandfather that I worry she won’t have anything left for herself. I plan on returning to visit again this evening and I want to take her some homemade chicken noodle soup. As far as the decision for surgery, that’s been postponed once the hospital staff spoke to the doctor who put the initial shunt in place. The feeding tube has also been declined as my father feels this is not something my grandfather would want and with the antibiotics finally helping fight the infection, it’s not needed. There is hope that my grandfather will be able to defeat the infection and return home to continue recuperating. I was glad things weren’t as dire in the evening as they seemed in the morning.    

Something Fishy

There’s something fishy going on here. Last week Esperanza told me that Hermano’s girlfriend had a doctor’s appointment scheduled for this week and she was told they would hear the heartbeat. The girlfriend said she was nervous and when I asked Esperanza why she said the girlfriend was afraid they wouldn’t hear the heartbeat. I found this perplexing and asked why she would think that, was she spotting or something? And Esperanza said, “I didn’t ask her all of that!” It sounds odd, does it not? Why would someone blissfully unaware of infertility issues be concerned about their pregnancy?

 

Well, the appointment was yesterday and they did not hear the heartbeat, but they saw it on the ultrasound. She sent a picture to Esperanza and said she is not as far along as she first assumed. Instead of a due date of 8/29/16 her date was adjusted to 9/17/16. Wait, what? That’s a three week difference! Almost a whole new cycle! Instead of being nearly through her first trimester, she is only 6 weeks pregnant. But, things don’t add up! She said she found out she was pregnant on New Year’s Eve. If she’s only 6 weeks along that isn’t possible! She would only have been getting a positive pregnancy test a week or so after that date because she would only have gotten pregnant around Christmas. Two and two are not making four here. I guess it doesn’t really matter and I should keep my nose out of things, but I find it suspicious. I also wonder if the reason she was worried about hearing a heartbeat is because she’s had a miscarriage before or suspects things aren’t progressing with this pregnancy as they should be. When I text her last week she never responded to me. It doesn’t really matter, I’m nothing to her, but I feel like I am a part of Hermano’s life and hope to be in the future, even if just by extension of Primero and Esperanza, so responding to a nice “hey how are you?” text really shouldn’t be too much to ask for, should it? In passing I asked Esperanza if she thought Hermano and his girlfriend would let us baby-sit to which she shrugged that she didn’t know. I said I hoped they would because I love babies, plus the baby’s uncle lives here and his/her aunt spends a great deal of time here, so it would be nice. I guess we’ll see. Sometimes the family dynamic between the siblings is hard for me to

 

Esperanza reported that Hermano was not allowed to go to the doctor’s appointment although she didn’t mention why. I know she said he was going to be allowed to attend some appointments and maybe that depends on things like his school schedule or transportation by the county or his foster parents. I know he hasn’t gotten his driver’s license yet, so he isn’t able to transport himself. Not that he would have a car anyway, but at least that’s one less hurdle for him to clear. Hopefully, things will work out for the next appointment so Hermano can attend.

The Blizzard of 2016

Today was my first day out of the house since Friday. Other than a brief period on Saturday when it was snowing like it would never stop and the 3 ½ hours it took us to shovel out the van, I’ve been inside the home with at minimum 4 kids (because of course Esperanza wanted to get snowed in with us) and maximum 10 kids. The joys of a winter blizzard! We did run to McDonald’s for dinner Sunday night because everyone was too exhausted to cook after exerting so much energy moving mounds and gobs of snow. Most roads in town are passable one way and only the major arteries are plowed open enough for cars to pass one another. The snow mounds at intersections would give Rin Tin Tin a run for his money, making spotting on-coming traffic a dangerous game of hide and seek. Did I mention it snowed this past weekend?

 

So, Friday night we did our usual, meaning we went out to dinner. On our way into the restaurant I thought I saw a snowflake or two, but Esperanza dismissed me as “crazy.” When we walked out of the restaurant it was definitely snowing with a coating of fluffy white snow already on the ground. We raced to the grocery store and did our best to hurry. By the time we got back to the car the snow had built from a dusting to at least an inch or more and our ride home became more perilous with a few slippery spots. We arrived home and battened down the hatches for the fury that was yet to come. And come it did! Saturday it snowed and snowed and snowed. Sometimes it was big, fluffy flakes and sometimes wind-hurled icy chips, but the intensity didn’t wane until that evening, leaving behind well over 2 feet of snow.

 

When Chica Marie woke up Saturday morning she begged to go outside and build a snowman. I told her we would once the big kids got up. At this point there was about 8 inches of snow on the ground and I had to sweep off the back porch and steps for the dogs to go out to potty. A few hours later, by the time we got the little ones all bundled up and headed outside the snow was well over a foot and Love Bug simply refused to stand or walk in the snow. The little dog went outside with us but the height of the snow (well over her head by now) intimidated her and she spent most of the time hovering at the top of the stairs. Chica Marie was unable to build a snowman because the snow wasn’t packing so she spent the time eating the snow instead. When the wind picked up we decided it was time to head inside.

 

Sunday was a sunny day with a beautiful deep blue sky. A perfect day to dig the van out of the snowbank in front of our house! With two shovels and three people, it took us three and a half hours to move the snow and unbury the van. Chica Marie and Love Bug started out on the porch with Chica Marie eating snow and Love Bug listening to music on Primero’s speaker. When Chica Marie’s feet began to feel cold and wet (because of all the snow that blew onto the porch) Primero took her inside to nap and brought out the baby monitor so we could continue working. We moved Love Bug to the top of a snow bank so he would be closer to us and he was content to sit and watch our work. Once we pulled the van out, Primero sat in the van with Love Bug in his car seat and soon Love Bug was asleep and tucked into his crib in the house. We finished making room for passengers to board the van and made sure the sidewalk was passable, if not fully shoveled. We were exhausted and wet and hoping this is the one and only snowstorm this winter!

 

Not long after we completed our arduous task Esperanza said their friend from the CFA wanted to come pick them up to hang out. I said no because I didn’t think it was a good idea to be out driving around if not absolutely necessary. Their friends ended up coming to visit at our house. Five teenagers invaded our living room for a few hours that evening. It wouldn’t have been so bad except two of them felt the need to put on a less than G-rated PDA performance that I didn’t appreciate, thank you very much. These same kids plus a few more came over Monday afternoon and stayed until I wanted to pull my hair out and throw it at them. I used to think I wanted to have the home where my kids friends all came to hang out, but now I realize that I don’t think I really want that because it puts me on edge to have so many kids there and having to keep an eye on it all. Maybe it’s just these kids because I don’t trust them that much. I don’t know. I was glad to have the household shrink down to just “us” and spend a quiet night before getting back to the grind.

Dish Washing Meltdown

I don’t know about anyone else, but for me my feelings about certain things seem to ebb and flow in odd patterns. I think I have a harder time than most people at letting go of certain things and certain expectations. I don’t know if that’s some Type A side of me trying to come out (you know, to control it all) or just a personality glitch. Regardless, there are times I find myself inexplicably upset about something I thought I had gotten “over” or was at least ok with.

 

The other night I about lost my marbles whilst washing dishes. It wasn’t the dish soap and hot water turning my hands to shrived old lady claws that got me, but the realization that by this time next year Hermano will be a father. His girlfriend is due the end of August and so by the holiday season a new little person will potentially be joining our holiday festivities (at least I hope he will visit us, I don’t really know). And this turned my insides to mush because of course my mind shouted, “TWO STUPID TEENAGERS WERE ABLE TO PROCREATE AND YOUR DUMB ADULT BODY CAN’T FIGURE THIS SHIT OUT!!!”  My inner mind isn’t always terribly kind apparently. I hate that everything seems to come back to my body’s utter lack of ability when it comes to babies. I wish I could say the ugly green monster of jealousy didn’t peek his hideous head up, but that too was a part of my emotional dish washing meltdown. I realized that this child (ok, she’s legally an adult, but still so young!) is going to have the privilege of feeling of a baby growing inside of her, something I will (most likely) never know no matter how old and wise I grow. I reminded myself of the New Year epiphany and about how much I wanted to maintain that level of satisfaction in my life which helped to ease the crazy meter down a notch or two. I also had to force myself to realize that eventually my children will become parents and it wouldn’t be fair to them for me to have this emotional breakdown over my losses compared to their joyous news. So, I calmed down, finished rinsing the last soapy dish and got on with my life. I also text both Hermano and his girlfriend to see how they were doing. Esperanza told me that Hermano will be allowed to attend the doctor visits with his girlfriend and I hope this is something that helps him to mature and prepare for fatherhood.

 

I still waver over how to deal with my own involvement. I don’t want to insert myself where I am not wanted or needed but at the same time I don’t want it to seem like I don’t care at all. It’s such a fine line to walk and I can’t promise I will ever really figure it out. I have the same struggles with Esperanza. I’m not her mom, not even her foster mom. But, I help her with things like doctor appointments and getting her birth certificate (which we got just after the first of the year! Hallelujah!) and I agreed to be her school guardian (mostly just to sign the IEP because she can’t sign it even though she’s 18). So, it’s strange. I try to offer advice and suggestions and I worry about her, just like I do Hermano. I guess it’s strange to worry about children that aren’t your own, but I think of them as mine in a small way. And, I see us as related through Primero, so I do care about them and their futures. Plus, that whole village thing, you know? If more people genuinely cared (not just to get their nose into other people’s business or anything like that) about kids and young people perhaps the world wouldn’t be the messed up place it is today. I don’t know. I can’t fix it all. I can only try to make my corner better in some small way. Am I doing that? Most of the time I feel like I’m just messing things up more than I’m actually helping. Regardless, I secretly hope that Hermano and his girlfriend will let us baby-sit from time to time. Is that stupid? Should I have any such expectations as that? I suppose not, but I just can’t seem to help myself. Esperanza, Primero and I were talking about the baby the other night. I said I hope they have a girl and Primero said he thinks that’s what they’re having. Esperanza hopes for a boy because she already has a niece. Hopefully, Hermano and his girlfriend will see the value in keeping their child in touch with his siblings and allow Esperanza and Primero to act as doting aunt and uncle. Like so many things, I suppose only time will tell.