Checking In
Yeah, I haven't been posting in awhile. Nothing to post, at least foster-related. We're on a sabbatical from fostering. The good news is, I am currently in week 5 of my last 8-week course for special ed. I'll be taking a break after that from school to build up some more money to finish, but the only thing that will be left is a semester of student teaching. And then I'll be eligible to be a teacher. Special Ed, Emotional and Behavioral disorders. I fully expect that the first words out of my first student's mouth will be "physician, heal thyself". And I guess they'll probably be right, to a degree.
I did give the address for the blog to my current professor, and she claims to be suitably impressed with my archives here. I was inspired to give the address out to my class. I guess I'll see if any of them feel that the hours I've spent dumping my guts into this thing have been worth it...but I know that if I never wrote about another child, perusing the archives and remembering "Angel", "Pixie", and especially "Josie"...well, you can't buy those kinds of feelings with money. Not even in a Las Vegas hotel at 2 in the morning. I HELPED those kids. Whatever mistakes I've made before that or since...with those kids, I was the good guy.
And I think I will be again. I certainly can't promise anything, but within the next year or two perhaps, we may be in a position to reenter the foster wars. Right now our beautiful Panda will be three years old on September 2. We're focusing our energies on making sure that she has everything she needs. Right now, that may include a stick to fight off her grammy's incessant hugs and kisses. But once she's in school and we're moved to a new town (and county and possibly state) and we get a bit settled...well, things could get boring again. And we could get stupid again. And then, of course, the natural thing to do is start fostering again.
I'll never get the need to work with kids out of my blood. Never. Thanks, Mom.
Labels: Mom, Panda, The Wife
Fun and Fear
Fun: we had a party last night. I was a little nervous because we had invited quite a few people and I didn't know how it would work out as far as space goes, but even with our basement not yet ready for prime time it was no problem. It's a large house we find ourselves in, and with the basement we probably could have another 5 or 10 guests than we had without a problem.
We had lots of conversation, food, and fun playing board games. We gave some good people a place to have a great time with their kids where there was no drinking. We strengthened some really good relationships with people we've known awhile but never really met in a truly non-church social setting and I think even most of the kids had a really good time.
It's amazing when you look around these small towns...everywhere you go on New Year's Eve, there's drinking (and often worse). It can be tough to find a safe way to spend the evening outside your home with your kids that won't break the bank. I was really glad that we could provide such a thing for our friends, and maybe we'll make it a tradition. Maybe it'll even inspire some of them to have a similar party at their own house for other people they know next year. A guy can always hope, right?
Fear: I haven't posted any thoughts on it because I'm still processing it myself, but we recently discovered that there is a good chance that Mom has breast cancer. She was in for a biopsy yesterday and we're supposed to know the results hopefully by the end of the week. The doctors seem to have given her their professional opinion that from what they saw so far, it looks like it'll be malignant, but we need to wait for the final results to know for sure.
Mom is a tough lady. She was a real survivor when she was a kid. The oldest of 10 in what many today would probably call a "hick" family, she left home at an early age. As I understand it, she put herself through college and then helped my dad through college (never mind that she then helped put her two children through college so they wouldn't have to do it by themselves). For the most part, my maternal grandparents didn't much care whether my sister or I existed as far as I was able to tell when I was a kid. Since my paternal grandparents were both dead when I was very young, that left my folks to face the world with two young children and no real emotional or financial support from either of their parents. Yeek. AND they had to be both parents and double-grandparents to us. I look at the mess that some of the mothers and fathers of our foster kids are with parents that have LIVING parents, and I cringe to think how my life might have been if my parents had not been the quality people that they are.
So. Mom being the hardass that she is (sorry Mom, but you KNOW it's true), she has no time for feeling sorry for herself. She's taken the attitude that if the docs say something has to be cut out, there'll be no pussyfooting around. It doesn't sound like there'll be any "lumpectomy" or any such nonsense. Off with it.
This is the kind of attitude I had to contend with when I was growing up. I'm glad to see that she's finally channeling it in a productive direction.
Heh.
Anyway, any thoughts or prayers anybody could spare would be most appreciated in the next few weeks. This woman is one of the primary reasons that this blog exists. She's put (forced, more like it) more good out into the world for more people than anybody I've ever known. More people call her "mom" than any woman I've ever known. She's put up with more than most women have had to in her life...and all I'm asking is that she be allowed to be there to see us finally get one or more children, and be allowed to hold and love those children, and be allowed to see at least a portion--preferably most or all--of their growing years.
She deserves that. And I'm not ashamed to ask God to give it to her. I owe her that, and so much more.
Mom. If this goes the way we're preparing for it to go, please get better soon. I don't know if we're ready to fly completely solo yet. It's much better to have you sitting in the back seat giving advice, even if we insist sometimes on having our own damned wrong way. We love you.
Labels: Mom
