Kali

Christmas is chaotic and amazing in our home. There are eight children here and one of them may be a teenager but he has never had a real Christmas in his life. He went from West Africa to a cult that shunned Christmas almost entirely. So, it was an honor to see him experience his very first real Christmas this year. It also added to the chaos.

In this time of our grief, I really did not expect much out of II. I had been careful and oh so grateful that for the first time in years I had my own income to buy gifts for him. These last three Christmases, I have taken joy not only in buying Christmas for this man but actually WANTING to do so. I no longer take it for granted after 2009 when I only bought what was necessary for the children to not understand that I prayed for his death every night when I went to bed.

II has been hit hard by grief for Micah, and since I have been working a tremenous burden of accomplishing Christmas also fell to him this year. I did not expect much for me.

Instead, this man I almost turned away from, this humble soul who put himself back together and won my respect and my love all over again, this man inducted me into his own personal Bad Ass Chick club this Christmas.

He gave me Kali, the Hindu Goddess of rebirth, among many other things. The more I read of this Goddess, the more honored I am that he would compare me to her. Funny how four years ago I would have taken deep offense at any non-Christian symbolism when comparing me and today I am speechless that my husband has honored me with both the necklace and the comparision.

Today we focus mostly on the joy and hold the tears for when the children are not surrounded by their Christmas. We do not forget where we have been, nor who is missing today. We have simply choosen to keep this holiday focused on these children. In the midst of that, II honored where *we* have been and his admiration for where I am going.

Precious moments

To work in nursing, you are required to undergo an orientation period. Every nurse is required, whether they are trnasferring within one location, or starting at new location, whether they are a new graduate or a long-seasoned nurse. We must orient to where we are working AND we most demonstrate competency in our nursing skills.

Where I am working, I did two weeks of formal, classroom orientation to employment at this hospital. For those two weeks, I worked full-time, and frankly I nearly rethought my decision to go back to work. Since then, I have been orienting in a preceptorship situation. I follow another nurse and work side by side with her. She signed off on my nursing skills (and actually she signed off on those within two weeks of my getting to the unit) but continues to monitor me and mentor me.

I don't know if I like this part of the training per se. Once I acclimated to the unit and their procedures and protocals, I much prefer simply being allowed to work and ask questions myself. However, my opinion was not asked nor sought out and I have no choice.

The ONE thing I was able to do was negotiate my work hours in this time period. Normally, this part of training is still done full-time. However, I had a personal connection the manager of this department and I had called her personally to inquire about the job before I applied for it. I had asked her then if it would be possible for me to work no more than three days per week after the initial company-wide orientation of two weeks. She hired me with that agreement in place. Not all of my co-workers were happy about this. In fact, one of them was quite bitter. I suspect the fact that she was just hired in August and required to do two full months of full-time hours before being permitted to drop down to the part-time position has much to do with her hostility. I didn't negotiate my orientation to upset, nor to humor anyone else. I did so because while I made this choice to work and keep my children's lives stable, I couldn't do two months of full-time work, or I would fail to keep their lives stable on that front instead.

I started my job first of November and I have two weeks left of my preceptorship before I formally, officially, come off orientation. Thye are intending to continue me for three more weeks of 3-8 hour shifts and as a third nurse in the unit instead of merely one of two. However, I will NOT be orienting and thus will not require permission to breath.

This orientation has kicked me in the rear-end. First, I have been reminded of why I left nursing, why the rumor is that nurses eat their own. I have had to adjust to being out of communication with my family at work, difficult to reach even in the case of an emergency. I have adjusted to the work hours, to the idea that II must to the bulk of the on-call and afterschool parenting on the days I work, which is three days per week still at the moment.

This week and next week, the scheduler gave me a precious gift. She scheduled me to work Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday of this week....and Wednesday, Thursday, Friday of next week. I have six precious days off with my children for Christmas. I honestly nearly cried when she did it for me. I didn't ask for it. I had hoped to have Chistmas Eve off but assumed I might not even have that necessarily.

I took J to the dentist to repair some badly decaying teeth yesterday. He was supposed to have them repaired in February, the second time Micah went inpatient. We moved the next month. Getting him to a dentist here took three months. That appointment fell as Micah was dying. Getting it rescheduled took another three months. Incredibly, the wait time to get the actual repair work done was another three months! I started with the family dentist we all see but they wanted to do 3 year old pulpectomy with nothing but lidocaine and a papoose board. Eventually, the best I could find here was apparently sedation but still using a papoose board. So, that took all of yesterday and it felt nothing like a Christmas break.

This morning, we have worked on homeschooling the two homeschoolers. This evening, we will do our long tradition. The kids will drink hot chocolate and watch a marathon of Christmas movies. II and I will lock ourselves in the bedroom and wrap presents....far too many presents in spite of a 3 gifts (plus the Christmas Eve PJs that we don't count) per child from mom and dad. Tomorrow, we will do our other tradition. We will take the littles (this year that means J, L and R) plus whomever did not finish making/buying all of their sibling gifts to shop. Normally, we take them to Goodwill but I'm not sure that will work this year. We may take them to a dollar store but I'm loathe to give up supporting Goodwill in the process if we do. Our local Goodwill opened this fall and the inventory is still very shoddy and mostly corporate infused (with insane price tags attached).

I bought Gingerbread House kits. I haven't done that in several years (before the poverty years) and I'm not certain how that will go, but we'll give that and baking a try tomorrow and Sunday. I had imagined I would be in church this Advent season, finally having found a church this fall for the first time since the church threw us out over Micah. However, I find the emotions of trying to tolerate church to give the church community to the children AND deal with our first Christms with Micah too much. We'll return to church after Epiphany and avoid that part of the church calendar this year.

I'm so grateful that I get nearly a full week to just be a mom right now. As conflicted as I am over working again, we're not to a point where I could consider quitting. So, I must accepted the current circumstances and being here with the kids is a precious gift for my soul at the moment.

I have made some HUGE decisions. The choices that have tormented me for the last several years have been clearly answered. I have a mile marker for when I *can* quit, as well as one for when I would *like* to quit. I know where I go from here and what career path I am headed down. Working has been an AMAZINGLY positive choice for this family and myself, even though I hate going every day and those feelings can raise their head at work if I don't stay busy as well. Actually, that feeling contrasted to how I felt doing Sociology was a BIG part of what finally answered the question of where I wanted my future to go.

Today, none of that matters. I still have Barton to work on with my sixth grader, and 100 Easy Lessons to do with my Kindergartener. I have lots to do in this week I have off, lots of moments to just *be* with my babies and as a family again. Today, that is what matters.

Manchild, hold your promises

Racism. It's an ugly word no one wants to admit. In America, it's a state that far too many want to believe we have overcome.

When Trevon Martin was killed, I didn't blog. There's just no words to describe the fear in every mother's heart who has black sons when you hear a woman's precious child was killed for wearing a hoodie. I am well aware of the risks of a DWB. I'm aware of the safety rules and lessons I must teach my sons. I am not a person of color. I cannot make myself a person of color. I also cannot change that my sons must face this world as men of color.

I've seen parents in transracial adoptions where they truly believe they can become the same color scheme as their children. To everyone around them, it just looks bizarre. I've seen more than one child with a look of fear over it as well. Conversely, I've seen families who believe they can be truly colorblind and there is no reason to worry....that the world will simply fall in step with their progressive mentality.

I cannot create a situation where I can either change my ethnicity nor ignore my sons ethnicities. I have never presumed to try to do either. Instead, I attempt to offer my sons what I learn from those who are of color, especially safety rules for interacting with this world. I then offer my sons a safe haven. The world will always see their color. My home will always be an unconditional safe haven of love where color, ethnicity nor how we entered this family is what binds us but what makes us each unique and wonderful.

Yet, I had to sit down and explain to my newest son what racism is. Sadly, while I do not see his tone in a negative light, we live in a tiny school district where some do. The school officials let this son be bullied and initially missed which child was actually the aggressor. The bully proved his lack of ingenuity by bullying repeatedly in the months after he first picked on my child. However, some of the damage to this already hurting child was already done.

These days, when someone wants entertainment at school, they start by trying to get a fight started between this son and the bully again. My son is scared that people continue to think he is not a good kid. His background involves those who were supposed to love him forever always assuming the worst in him and he's terrified people will still think that way.

I was forced to teach this child was racism is because the basic fact is that I believe some of the struggles he is facing is that people don't always assign positive intent to this child first. I cannot say this is a certainty. However, it has now happened often enough, despite his desperate efforts to not let people believe the worst in him when the rumors start swirling yet again, that I had to explain to him that sometimes people see more than just what is before their eyes, even when it's wrong. This is the part of my job that I hate. It is, however, a piece of safety that this child has got to understand and given the extreme isolation and neglect he experienced previously it's not something he has grasped on his own.

Today, I failed

Today we had a patient in our center that was not normal for us. We had a 10 year old child with a progressive disease that will shorten this chid's life. She has been treated several hours away from here in the hospital, but her doctors set up so she can get her monthly medicine locally instead of having to drive.

I wanted to be reassuring to this mother and child. I wanted to remember what it was like to BE her, and to help her feel empowered. I wanted to reassure her that they will learn to live with this and will understand everything that is happening and how to put one step in front of the other....eventually.

Instead, I cracked. I didn't cry. I did that once at work and swore I would never be that vunerable again, no matter how shattered my heart might feel. However, I had to step away from this mother as I watched her shake, to refer to a piece of paper where the doctor had written down for her what was going to happen. I watched her struggle and nearly panic when her child's blood pressure was sky-high. I did explain to her that the blood pressure was because the little girl was scared about the needle required to start her IV line for her medications.

After they were set up and and I had taken time to acclimate myself, I forced myself to do the paperwork process with them. I didn't want to run and hide from a sick 10 year old. I need to be stronger than that and I need to be courageous enough to show this mom she CAN find her courage.

I walked this mother through nearly 20 minutes of paperwork. It's the standard CYA protocals in medicine. However, it can be confusing. Several times, the mother nearly flipped out as I tried to educate her on the process of getting treatments. I explained. I answered her questions. I took my time and I was gentle with her.

She thanked me when we were done, but I could have done better. I should have done better. All I can promise myself is that next month I WILL do better. Sadly, they will be there every month. I have more opportunities to learn how to help other mothers without being pulled back into my own pain and grief by touching it to help others.

My choice

I didn't have to go back to work. We have acrued insane levels of medical debt in the last 12 months. It's not suprising. Everything you read about how people's health tanks when they lose someone very close to them has been totally valid x10 people this year, not counting the expenses of the one who actually died.

In the last 12 months, we have endured 10 Emergency room visits, 8 hospitalizations, 6 ambulance rides, 3 surgeries, 1 helicopter life-flight, and 1 death. We have good health insurance. However, there are always co-pays and deductibles. When S first came to us, he was not under our medical insurance. All of the promises of the first adoptive family to cover his medical expenses was a bunch of malarky--something we soon learned ALL of their so-called promises were. That added more medical debt. Even all of that doesn't account for gas to drive to medical appointments, food that has to be eaten out, mealas that must be consumed while inpatient with children, etc, etc.

I was already considering going back to work this fall because I wanted something for ME. As the medical struggles continued to pile up and pile up, well after Micah died, our budget became tighter and tighter.

In the past, we always put my staying home as top priority. In times when finances got tight, we would buckle down, drop to needs only spending and get our financies back under control. We can absolutely do that now. We could tell the children no spending, no allowances, no eating out....no nothing that is not a strict need. We would make ends meet and by the first of the year we would start to get back on top of the mess, by spring it would be forgotten.

Except, something has changed in ME now. The two years II did not have a full-time job and we were both in school, we lived on the bring of oblivion. We were in abject poverty and sometimes even basic needs were denied because there was no money to accomplish such things. I had never lived like that in my life--EVER. When II went back to work last summer, we were pulling out of that poverty and I prefer it that way. We were back to more than comfortable and I liked that lifestyle. I liked being able to buy simple things for the kids when they needed them.

The more the medical bills acrued through this fall, the more I didn't want to go back there again. We had more than suficient funds to meet our needs. Yet, I wanted MORE for my kids now. I wanted to be able to honor their wants and not merely their needs, like we were always able to do before outside of those two years.

I realized I did have a choice. I could remain home, just like I did all those years and just like I contributed to II's stress by leaving him the ONLY wager earner. Or, I could go back to work. I can make GOOD money and only work part-time. With that money, we can maintain the level of living the kids are accustomed to most their lives while we pay off the debts. By spring, all of the medical bills will be paid down, and we'll be better off without having to stop living a normal, middle class life.

For the first time in our marriage, my choice was different. I no longer felt that staying home was sacrosanct and the ONLY option. I no longer feared the idea of finding reliable childcare for the little ones, nor asking II to support me in the adjustment back. I pay the childcare for daytime care of the ones at home. I pay allowances for the teens to watch them after school until Dad and I get home. I made a choice, and it wasn't the choice I always thought I would make.

I am working, and when I'm there and not thinking about how much I miss my babies, I am too busy working to struggle. I am miserable when I am home and thinking about going to work, but it goes away almost immediately once I'm there again. I want to give myself six months. I always swore I would start working on what to do with my career once the baby was three. I already finished my degree sooner than I thought. While part of me did feel the pull back to simply staying home again. At the end of the day, I made a choice and my choice was to go back to work, for so many reasons that made sense this time and I never imagined I would choose for most of my years of parenting until now.

Passions

Little L reminds me why I like homeschooling so much. I had started her in public school this fall for Kindergarten. However, she was not learning anything new. She was so tired that all she did at home was rage and fall asleep before dinnertime (and we generally try to serve dinner 5:30-6pm now that we have kids getting up at 6am for school). She was raging every morning about not wanting to get ready for school, raging every evening because she was overtired and complaining about how bored she was.

I made the decision that I would return to my passions of homeschooling for the foundational years. I brought L home. I wasn't sure how I would balance homeschooling with a part-time job initially, but I knew I wanted to try to balance things instead of just giving up. I never entertained the concept of balance when the other kids were little. It's possible I couldn't have done it, but I knew I also never tried either.

As it turned out, I found a homeschooling mother to provide childcare when I work. Her oldest is in kindergarten, so it was easy for her to add L into her schooling routine. J plays with her toddler boy, which actually makes it easier for her because J lovingly entertains her son. Actually the two of them have become quite obssessed with Bob the Builder and if they are not watching to "learn" from their "favorite builder" then they are attempting to copy building all over the house on her. However, it keeps both boys occupied while she does the homeschooling with the girls.

There was just one problem. I was creating most of L's curriculum this fall. Having homeschooled for over two decades, I wasn't in the mood to purchase curriculum yet again for basics I can teach without formal materials this time. Except, the childcare is teaching her first kindergartener and is heavily dependent upon curriculum to guide her. That meant that she couldn't ad lib and expand upon what I provided for L and thus L was finishing too quickly.

This wouldn't be a maajor issue, except L decided she would do the other little girl's schoolwork....faster than the other child could accomplish it. So....mommy bought some more formalized materials that L can use at home and at the babysitter's house. It is working out well. I'm just concerned that L will go through what is supposed to be a full school year of materials a bit TOO fast. I'll buy more if so. It's just funny to me how fast my children learn when provided lots of opportunities and are taught to learn for the sake of loving knowledge and not task oriented.

For years, I lived in fear of public school. Unfortunately, when you drink the kool-aid of the religious right homeschoolers, you tend to believe public school is truly something to fear. Then, I put my kids in public school and discovered that it is not an entity to fear, but there are good and bad schools. Finally, I have come full circle in realizing that while I understand why public schools build foundations of learning in the manner they do, it is not how I want my children to have their foundations established. We have had far more success when I homeschool for early elementary and then transition the kids in middle school. Those who have transitioned in that manner have thrived. Everytime I have tried using public schools too early, we have issues. S came to us at the high school level, having never been to school before. I suspect his transition would have been easier if the last family had not used "homeschooling" as a mask for severe educational neglect. However, I see a lot of social struggles that S has experienced which lead me to believe if I am going to put the littles in public school at some point, it really needs to be done before high school years.

So, I have found peace in accepting I will homeschool the elementary years of the last two littles, but like their older siblings, I will transition them into public school when their foundations are strong. There is only one child I will refrain from ever putting into public school. The combination of severe dyslexia, Asperger's Syndrome and insanely high IQ is a BAD combination for public schools. I had to laugh when the middle school Psychologist (the same one who has been sweet and unbelievably helpful in transitioning Ch with his ESL and spelling challenges) gave me a funny look when I described C and asked me to please stick to my committment to never put him in public school, as no public school can provide the very unique, one on one education that C requires. I've actually been told this same thing by several college professors, so putting C into public school is not actually on the table. However, outside of the child I wonder why God thought I was capable of helping him thrive and overcome his Eistein level challenges, I realize that the others will eventually go to public school.

Teaching L kindergarten has reminded me that I really do LOVE teaching. There's little enjoyment for me in schooling C. Teaching him is the constant experience of having a sponge suck all of the moisture out of you and leaving you exhuasted for the effort. With L, I have remembered the passion I brought to homeschooling before I drank the fundamnetalist kool-aid, the teaching I pursued because I knew I could do better for my little ones than assembly line education. I am also keenly aware that these years are rapidly coming to an end. While I count down the days until I can turn C over to PhDs and he can pepper the with his non-stop questions, with L and J I realized they are the end of an era. I get the thrill of building their foundations and then I get one last time setting my babies on the world and watching them integrate and thrive. I will honestly miss these days when they are gone from us.

Transitions

I cannot decide if I am okay working or if this might be the worst mistake I have ever made in my life. Daily, I remind myself that it took a full six weeks for baby J and I to both adjust when I went back to school three years ago.

I have the best childcare arrangements I have ever had for my babies before since I stepped into the arena of needing actual childcare. Ironically, it's also the cheapsts costs I've ever paid before, even after I offered her more than she charged because I was concerned she would lose money on my babies at the rate she quoted me. She provides homeschooling for L and she provides a write-up of the little ones day and what they ate every day she has them. They LOVE going there, more than they have liked any other childcare arrangements before now.

It does help to know my babies are in good hands and are deliciously happy while I am working. Even so....I'm just not sure if I am really okay with leaving my kiddos. My original plan was to work nightshift so I wouldn't require childcare for the kids. My original plan would have required I have the littles watch movies on the mornings I got off nightshift but to be fully here by the time the older kids got home from school.

I really, really wanted to only work two days per week and right now I am working three days per week. I was specifically hired for the purposes of expanding hours at my office. When we do that, there is a strong possibility that we will move to 12 hour shiftss and that would reduce my days to two per week. However, that is not a guarantee and for now I am working three days per week. Three days per week feels like too much time away from my babies. I feel disconnected and like I barely have time to see my kids before it's time for them to start getting ready for bed.

The other problem is that when I work three days per week, all of my errands, appointments, visits to schools get jammed into one of the two off days. I really don't get time off when I have to accomplish so many things while I'm technically off. I am hopeful this will settle down but right now it feels quite overwhelming.

As a nurse I am not easily reachable when I am working. Technically, possibly legally, I am supposed to get breaks morning and afternoon. However, I am a nurse. I don't get a break if patients require attention. I rarely actually get those breaks. I take lunch, and during lunch I check in with the kids, check to see if someone is trying to communicate with me and jam my food in as fast as I can. Lunch is only thirty minutes out of my shift.

Yet, the work.....I am REALLY good at what I am doing. We work with primarily chronica or terminal patients. Most days I have the opportunity to encourage someone who has trouble getting needles into their veins but is terrified of getting a port placed. Today, I even pulled up pictures of Ch's port so show a woman that you cannot SEE a port when it is not accessed. For twenty years, she has faced continual needs for a chronic cancer type condition. She's terrified that a port will take away form her quality of life. She was stunned to see how much a non-issue a port can be. I get to educate and reassure patients daily. I get to help them feel better in real and tangible ways when they are with us.

Then again working with terminal and chronic conditions, we have a nurse assigned the duty of reading the obituaries in the paper every day. We have to watch to see when our patients die. We had one first of the week coming for his last visit and will be starting with Hospice next week.

It's a good compliment to the reality that I wanted to work for Hospice and our only local hospice requires you hold the Bachelors in nursing, which I don't have. I am using the skills I am absolutely BEST at using. I can see that I make a tangible and immediate difference in the lives of those I work with every day. I am also so insanely busy at work that I don't remember to miss my babies.

I don't know what the outcome of this new adventure will be. I really am committed to sticking with this for six months. I really believe I cannot make a full opinion if I don't give this a full chance to work. I just cannot decide if this is something I want to be doing a year from now, or something I will do temporarily just to escape and to use my nursing skills again. I don't know.