I wanted to add a recent photo of her so you can see how much they have grown and filled out compared to when they were first locked.  I am loving how easy to care for they are but am sad that we are still working on length. Micheline has some sensory issues and last year decided that chewing and breaking off her locs would be a way to satisfy some oral issues.  As a result, she had some that were about 7 inches long, some that were an inch or two, and then some along her neck that she totally broke off down at her scalp. So, I had no choice but to trim all of them so they wouldn’t look quite so unkempt.

To say I was a tad bit upset at the time is probably an understatement, but she is slowly regrowing them and we are working on getting length again so that hopefully sometime in the future we will have more styling options than we presently do.  This photo was taken 6 months ago and although they have grown a bit since then, I have also trimmed them to even them up so they really aren’t much longer now than they are in this picture.

I had an African-American woman at the airport last year come up to me and say, “Who did her Sisterlocs?” When I told her they weren’t real Sisterlocs but were actually started with Braidlocs and that I was the one who did them, she said, “Do you mind if I take a closer look? I’m a hairdresser myself.” My heart was pounding, but she looked closely at them, felt them, and then nodded at me with a smile and said, “you do good work.” Let’s just say I floated out of there. Yes, dear lady, you made my day.

I don’t know about you, but I personally think slongo is a much more interesting word than slogan. Maybe she’s on to something. If Frindle can make it, why not slongo?

Thankfully that problem is being resolved. We adopted one of our sweethearts last month, and the other will be adopted by us this month, leaving me free to post and write just about anything I dang please without the state stepping in and shaking their finger at me. The one who is being adopted this month? Peanut! Yes, she indeed came back to us!

For Christmas a few years ago, my daughter scrapbooked my entire year of blogging for me. It is a gift that I treasure. Just last week, she gave me a few last pages from that year that she had not finished, and as I read over them, they inspired me to start writing again. So, I guess I’m back. As my kids are my favorite topic, they just might want to run for cover while they still can.

Pyro boy is still fascinated with fire, so our fireplace continues to remain dormant. He still has no internal locus of control and just last week tried to steal $100 of my grocery cash and thought I wouldn’t notice. I still have children who stick their hands under the bathroom door with a “Mom, can you see my fingers?” as they seek for attention, but for the most part they are different children than the ones who were doing it four years ago. I probably have a few more aches and pains than I did four years ago, I have a few more children, and I still don’t get the time alone with my husband that I would prefer. I need the Weight Watchers muffin rather than a piece of cake even more than I did four years ago, but I’m working on it.

Life is still good, the gospel is of course still very true, and my gratitude for my Savior and his atonement has grown in leaps and bounds as I have experienced trials and loss of loved ones. My love for my family and appreciation for eternal relationships has deepened even as my patience may have decreased. Yes, I guess it is safe to say I am grumpier in my old age even though I promised myself when I was much younger that I would not allow that to happen.

I have been blessed with a new daughter-in-law, a new son-in-law, and a new granddaughter. We have had 5 foster children come and go, and have recently adopted our 6th foster child who the Lord placed in my heart almost 5 years before her arrival. It was a long wait, but worth every minute as we adore her and her sweet personality. She has a set of lungs and a piercing scream that can break glass when she is upset, but she can be a sweetheart as well. The other night she was awake from 3 to 5 a.m. and I was less than amused. As I lay down on her bed, however, to encourage her to go back to sleep she patted me on the face and said, “Mama, you are a rock star!”  Not sure what recesses of her brain that emerged from, but I’ll take it.

Last year at this time we traveled to  the Mesa, Arizona Temple to be sealed to Caleb. It was a  beautiful way to have a White Christmas, as well as a wonderful way to end 2010 and start 2011. He came home from China with no knowledge of God or Christ, but over the past few years chose to take the missionary lessons, pray to know for himself if the gospel was true, and then said he was ready to take the next step of being sealed to our family. We have not wanted to push him because we wanted him to take those steps when he felt ready and not have him do it because he thought we expected it of him.

If my kids thought I was older than dirt four years ago, they probably think I am a dinosaur fossil this year. Never did I dream I would be my age and raising a 3-year-old, but God clearly has a sense of humor. As a friend pointed out to me once, “Abraham’s wife Sarah was a heck of a lot older than you are, so you have nothing to complain about.” Sarah laughed about it, so maybe I should as well…and count my blessings that at least my last one didn’t have to come out of this body.

In a few days we will be welcoming in 2012. Four years ago I added a header to this blog that asked, “Are we having fun yet?” Yes…yes, indeed we are. If you want to come along, I will start blogging again this next year. Buckle up and hold on, because it promises to be a wild ride.

It was Peanut’s cousin and she told me she had been up all night with Peanut who had a tummy ache and who had cried all night. She had also thrown a two hour tantrum the evening before and her cousin said, “I have been trying to tell myself that I can do this, but I can’t. I just can’t. Besides that, she loves you, you love her, and she needs to come back to you.”

With those words, I was suddenly wide awake. Did I actually hear what I thought I heard? Yep, she said she was sending her back. I wanted to shout “Hallelujah! Thank you God!”, and a variety of other praises of gratitude, but instead I just tried to calmly listen and empathize with how she was feeling. After all, she was hurting inside and it took alot for her to call me and tell me honestly what she was feeling. She said she had not told anyone else yet, but that just by telling me the weight of the world felt like it had been lifted off of her shoulders.

I have hesitated to post anything for fear things would not work out. After all, the agency handling the out of state adoption could still place her with someone else if they insist on keeping Peanut with her brother. I cannot take him. I have pondered and prayed about it and he is just not meant to come to our home.

This week, however, a plethora of prayers have been answered as we found it is pretty much set that she will be rejoining our family in early July. Her brother’s previous foster mother has consented to take him back as well so both children will return home to familiar places and routines.

Six months ago I wrote this as my heart was breaking:
Tonight at dinner she said, “Mama,I will miss you when I am gone. After I have stayed there for a very long time will you come get me?” Oh my dear one, if you only knew how very much I wish I could.

If the caseworker doesn’t end up flying to get the kids, there is a chance that I might be flying them home. So yes, my dear Peanut, after you have stayed there for a very long time, I would be willing to do almost anything to get on a plane and come get you. Thank you, God, for allowing my baby girl to come back home!

When Peanut doesn’t like the way things are going, she lets others know. This time she did it by biting her teacher. I know, not funny, but I have to confess I chuckled when I heard the news. She used to bite my other kids quite regularly when she first came to our home so I know biting is often her M.O. for saying “I don’t like this”, or “I am quite ticked off at the moment.” She hasn’t bitten in our home for quite a long time, however, so I know she must have been feeling very overwhelmed.

D. called me this morning and told me how it went. I appreciate the phone calls as it eases my fears of how Peanut is doing. Peanut has been calling herself, sometimes twice a day, but she can’t carry on much of a conversation so it often ends up with me asking yes/no questions. Today, D. said that Peanut was a bit afraid when she got to school and started to cry but that she and her husband and older daughter all went in with her. Apparently Peanut’s teacher is the same one that D.’s daughter had for kindergarten almost 20 years ago. D.’s daughter told the class that, and they all thought that was pretty neat.

Peanut took a Lunchable for her lunch and some oranges and goldfish crackers for her snack. D. laughed and said, “The school hasn’t called me yet so I guess she is doing OK.” D. promised to keep me in the loop when Peanut moved and so far she has kept her promise. She said I am more than welcome to fly out sometime and visit her and is willing to send Peanut to us during summer break.

So, even though we are still heartbroken at having lost our sweetie from our family, we hope to be able to always be part of her extended family.

Merry Christmas from the Outlaws out West

The hardest part was knowing she didn’t want to go and there was not a dang thing I could do about it. She begged me on multiple occasions to stay, and yet I was powerless. For almost two years I told this little one that I would keep her safe. Led her to feel that at least I was in control when she felt she had none. But now when she asked me to change her situation, to not make her go, I had to tell her that I could do nothing about it. And we wonder why these kids act out? Of course they do. They are terrified.

As foster parents we are the ones who know these children. We live with them 24/7, we love them, sing to them at bedtime, nurse them back to health when they are sick, and yet when decision time rolls around, CPS comes in like a Commandante and says “this is how it will be.” Our input is ignored. Was CPS there when she had night terrors that could last for an hour or two? Were they there when she had croup and we spent the night trying to sleep in the huge bean bag chair we moved into the bathroom to lie on together as I repeatedly steamed up the room with a hot shower so she could breathe? Do they truly know this child in order to make the decisions that would be best for her emotionally? Of course the answer is “no” to all of the above.

Even worse, the input of mental health professionals is often ignored as well. She was diagnosed with PTSD over 6 months ago and the psychiatric nurse practitioner’s newest report after her latest evaluation 2 weeks ago, said it would be a huge mistake to move this child from our home and family ; the only place she has ever felt safe, the only home of which she has active and positive memories.

Peanut’s attorney got a copy of the report. Totally ignored it. Her caseworker got a copy as well. Her reply was to tell Peanut’s bio Mom to tell me to back off. Oh yeah, that is reeeaaally professional. Have a problem with a foster parent’s advocacy, so go to the mom whose rights have already been severed and tell her to tell the foster parent to back off.

I know how vindictive CPS can be. I’ve seen them move kids from homes just to spite a foster parent and I surely don’t want that to happen for our newest placement, but I also know I could never live with myself if I didn’t advocate for Peanut up until the day she left. Knowing I might not be real professional if I called myself, I asked my licensing agency to contact the attorney and caseworker for me. The reply from the caseworker’s supervisor was that no matter what was written about this child’s emotional health, they would not be changing any aspect of her move.

So, I watched my baby girl get on a plane this morning. She looked back with sadness as she went through security. She had to carry her own backpack and pull her own carryon behind her because her father was in a wheelchair and her brother was sick with a temp of 104. Dad supposedly fell down last night when he was drunk and now can’t walk due to back pain. But hey, he is perfectly capable of escorting these kids across the country…acccording to CPS.

As angry as I get about this situation and as much as I want to quit sometimes, I know there will be other children who need me and so I continue to foster. There will always be children who arrive frightened and alone, who need a safe place to go and a place to feel loved. At least for now, I will continue to provide that for them.

“You writting is decent”? WordPress deemed this comment to be spam. I think I would have to agree.