DSC_0586e
Originally uploaded by nibbuccms.
When....when will all five kids be dressed in clean clothes, with their hair lookin' so perdy again? The next time might be a long time from now, so I though I'd better capture the moment. For posterity...
Monday, May 21, 2007
Monday, May 14, 2007
One of these things is not like the Other
What's it like being a part of a transracial family? From the inside looking out, we see nothing different about our family from other families we encounter on a daily basis. We do the same things: we love and care for our children equally, regardless of color. They misbehave? We redirect. They accomplish something? We're proud of them. On the inside looking out, we're the same.
From the outside looking in, we are much like the picture above. WE ARE different. We no longer look like everyone else. Our family is the spectacle, much like the squirrel is the focal point in the picture above.
The ramifications are not subtle. We've given up our ability to blend into the crowd. Anonimity? Forget it. People know US, but we have no idea who they are. In a sense, we have celebrity status, and as you know, people have differing viewpoints about celebrities. The can be loved and admired, or hated and despised.
We've come to terms with leaving the majority and becoming a member of a minority group. It's who we are. Hopefully we're here on this earth not to be judged, but to be a role model for others. I know we make an impact on a daily basis. Today....I'm going to put one in the "For" column, and hope that in the end, the "Against" column will be a barren wasteland, where all the tally marks of the early years become erasures...migrating little by little, mark by mark...towards equality.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
What a Lovely Duet
My little LayniBug has finally discovered her musical side, which I knew was there since she was three. I'm not sure of the magical ingredient, maybe a very supportive music teacher in 5th grade who turned her onto playing the Recorder, but she practices quite a bit. I heard her upstairs last night before she went to bed playing Amazing Grace :)
As a child I used to spend hours and hours playing my recorder. I remember purchasing my wooden recorder from the music store with my own money....boy was I proud. (anyway...)
Today, another momentus occasion for her, I brought home her very first trumpet. This is the instrument she's elected to play in the 
Those of you that know me will say, "why did you just let her use yours?" Are you all kidding? I have a Getzen Doc Severensen!! They don't make those anymore!
So..we played the trumpet for a while, and then in looking through one of the music books I bought her found that the recorder book had some recorder duets. We switched to our recorders, practiced for about 10 minutes and then threw down the track on the computer!!
Hope you enjoy our merriment!Click here to play our masterpiece..
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Kindergarten..the Final 13 Days
Tonight was the Kindergarten program....where all the kindergarteners get the opportunity to wave to their parents from the stage.
We waved...until we started laughing, which was the direct cause of the shaky video. Our little Chatterbox...can she dance!!
We waved...until we started laughing, which was the direct cause of the shaky video. Our little Chatterbox...can she dance!!
Sunday, May 6, 2007
Family Moments we Won't Forget
This weekend at the beach house we had one of those priceless moments...one just made for learning.. Take a look at the video we created from our experience.
If you're trying to view this video where YouTube is blocked, click here.
If you're trying to view this video where YouTube is blocked, click here.
Saturday, May 5, 2007
Let me Inform You
What's it like to have children that don't conform to society's expectations? Let me say that it's very hard. Not just on us as parents, but it affects every family member in some way. I've decided that sometimes, to let the pressure off the kids, people who are less understanding, need a little bit of understanding "help". Not all children are perfect.
Have you heard of Gardner's Multiple Intelligence Theory? He lists 7 different ways you can be gifted. But I think he'd might discover more ways of giftedness if he studied my five adopted children, on any given day. The trouble here is that the ways my children are "gifted" are not ways that society understands.
So...let me inform you. If you see my children out in public, and I hand you a card..accept it gracefully, read it...and internalize that my children are doing the very best they can.
Friday, May 4, 2007
The Bride of Frankenstein
Braids for my girls seem to be the bane of my existence these days. I know I should love them, since they prevent me from having to comb, condition and try and tame three girl's hair each and every morning, but I can't seem to get out of my no braid rut. Why? It all stems from a little bit of a substance that strikes fear in every mother of African American girls who get braids. WATER....
It all started with Chatterbox playing "beauty shop" one late summer evening. After all the lights were dimmed, she decided to get our hair box and make her self beautiful. What ensued was one 5 year old little girl with several rubber bands that were stuck in her hair, and rather than leave them in until morning, she thought she'd do me a favor and cut them out. She cut them out all right, right along with all her hair surrounding the rubber band, leaving little but a scant 3/4 inch of hair with which to work. She repeated this hair cutting fiasco several times, leaving me with a child that had no workable hairdo...and this was DAYS before she started Kindergarten. So much for being that cute little Chatterbox we all know and love. She was still the chatterbox, but cute???
In desperation, I decided to put braids in her hair...but the forces of nature were working against me. Saturday, when I got to the braid shop, they had no synthetic hair for use, but only real human hair. To put freestyle braids in her hair with human hair was going to cost me $170! Here were my choices...start kindergarten looking like a chemo patient? Or...pay $170?
Seven hours later, I emerged from the shop with my beautiful little Chatterbox, swinging her gorgeous locks from side to side. She was so excited to have hair down to the middle of her back. It was the first time she'd had braids this long (and this expensive)!
As I departed on Monday morning from the child care center at our gym, I cautioned Chatterbox as I had done about 100 times earlier that morning, "Chatterbox, don't under any condition, go swimming today. Do you understand?" I reiterated that same sentiment to the teenager doing childcare duty that morning, having great faith in Chatterbox, that even if her childcare provider broached the swimming pool with her, she'd be fine...she loved her brand new (expensive) locks. I went off to work without a worry. Kindergarten would be fine. Chatterbox was back to having hair which I could style and manage. All was right with the world......
....until I arrived to pick her up. What I saw when I looked at her, resembled that much abused Barbie doll at the bottom of the toy box; the one the girls practiced teasing with a comb, and the one the boys swung around by the hair. My beautiful Chatterbox had been replaced by....the Bride of Frankenstein.
What else was a mother to do but use her fingers as a wide tooth comb? I frantically attempted to smooth the tangled mess into submission, but what I received was a pile of discarded hair strewn about the floor at my feet, like an offering from the braid goddess of unsuspecting white mothers.
So, with all I could muster, I picked up the braids from the floor, while nonchalantly asking Chatterbox what had happened to her hair. "We went swimming, Mama! Are you mad?"
Poor Chatterbox. I'm sure what ensued as we drove home will be one of those times she'll remember as a grown up. It'll be something talked about during family gatherings...."Mom, remember the time you (traumatized me after you) spent $170 on braids and then I went swimming?"
What a poor white mama to do? Learn from the experience....get really good at twisting hair, and know that NEVER should you spend $170 on hair for a five year old.
It all started with Chatterbox playing "beauty shop" one late summer evening. After all the lights were dimmed, she decided to get our hair box and make her self beautiful. What ensued was one 5 year old little girl with several rubber bands that were stuck in her hair, and rather than leave them in until morning, she thought she'd do me a favor and cut them out. She cut them out all right, right along with all her hair surrounding the rubber band, leaving little but a scant 3/4 inch of hair with which to work. She repeated this hair cutting fiasco several times, leaving me with a child that had no workable hairdo...and this was DAYS before she started Kindergarten. So much for being that cute little Chatterbox we all know and love. She was still the chatterbox, but cute???
In desperation, I decided to put braids in her hair...but the forces of nature were working against me. Saturday, when I got to the braid shop, they had no synthetic hair for use, but only real human hair. To put freestyle braids in her hair with human hair was going to cost me $170! Here were my choices...start kindergarten looking like a chemo patient? Or...pay $170?
Seven hours later, I emerged from the shop with my beautiful little Chatterbox, swinging her gorgeous locks from side to side. She was so excited to have hair down to the middle of her back. It was the first time she'd had braids this long (and this expensive)!
As I departed on Monday morning from the child care center at our gym, I cautioned Chatterbox as I had done about 100 times earlier that morning, "Chatterbox, don't under any condition, go swimming today. Do you understand?" I reiterated that same sentiment to the teenager doing childcare duty that morning, having great faith in Chatterbox, that even if her childcare provider broached the swimming pool with her, she'd be fine...she loved her brand new (expensive) locks. I went off to work without a worry. Kindergarten would be fine. Chatterbox was back to having hair which I could style and manage. All was right with the world......
....until I arrived to pick her up. What I saw when I looked at her, resembled that much abused Barbie doll at the bottom of the toy box; the one the girls practiced teasing with a comb, and the one the boys swung around by the hair. My beautiful Chatterbox had been replaced by....the Bride of Frankenstein.
What else was a mother to do but use her fingers as a wide tooth comb? I frantically attempted to smooth the tangled mess into submission, but what I received was a pile of discarded hair strewn about the floor at my feet, like an offering from the braid goddess of unsuspecting white mothers.
So, with all I could muster, I picked up the braids from the floor, while nonchalantly asking Chatterbox what had happened to her hair. "We went swimming, Mama! Are you mad?"
Poor Chatterbox. I'm sure what ensued as we drove home will be one of those times she'll remember as a grown up. It'll be something talked about during family gatherings...."Mom, remember the time you (traumatized me after you) spent $170 on braids and then I went swimming?"
What a poor white mama to do? Learn from the experience....get really good at twisting hair, and know that NEVER should you spend $170 on hair for a five year old.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Left at the Park
Remember when you were little, and you were misbehaving in the car? What was the standard threat? "If you don't behave, I'm going to make you get out and walk!"
Well, yesterday at the park, I decided to attempt the opposite of this punishment. It's called "If you don't get IN the car, I'm going to leave you here!"
My 8 year old son was being rather belligerent yesterday while at the park, and would not accompany me to the car when it was time to leave. I yelled after him, " If you don't get in the car, I'm going to leave you...!!" Didn't seem to phase him at all. He remained on the swing, sitting ever so nonchalantly. The rest of us got in, and I started the car. He did not move. So...I drove away, down the block. He did not move.....until I rounded the corner and was out of sight. By the time I had gone past two houses, and then proceeded to turn around in the driveway to head back to the park, as I turned the corner to gain visual eyesight with the park, here I see my tough as nails little boy, who in the seconds it took me to turn my car around, had sprinted all the way across the park and was already across the street, obviously running after my car.
He was visably upset...and completely winded. When I asked him what he was going to do the next time, he grumbled..."I guess I'll get in the car!".
I remember the time my parents made me get out and walk...and I think he'll remember this too. So are we both scarred for life? No, I don't think so, but this experience went along way in proving that from a kid's perspective, you never know what your parents are going to do!
Well, yesterday at the park, I decided to attempt the opposite of this punishment. It's called "If you don't get IN the car, I'm going to leave you here!"
My 8 year old son was being rather belligerent yesterday while at the park, and would not accompany me to the car when it was time to leave. I yelled after him, " If you don't get in the car, I'm going to leave you...!!" Didn't seem to phase him at all. He remained on the swing, sitting ever so nonchalantly. The rest of us got in, and I started the car. He did not move. So...I drove away, down the block. He did not move.....until I rounded the corner and was out of sight. By the time I had gone past two houses, and then proceeded to turn around in the driveway to head back to the park, as I turned the corner to gain visual eyesight with the park, here I see my tough as nails little boy, who in the seconds it took me to turn my car around, had sprinted all the way across the park and was already across the street, obviously running after my car.
He was visably upset...and completely winded. When I asked him what he was going to do the next time, he grumbled..."I guess I'll get in the car!".
I remember the time my parents made me get out and walk...and I think he'll remember this too. So are we both scarred for life? No, I don't think so, but this experience went along way in proving that from a kid's perspective, you never know what your parents are going to do!
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
A Car Full of Kids
My husband purchased tickets to Cirque du Soliel's Sunday matinee performance for my birthday. This meant that we needed to leave our beach house no later than 9:30 Sunday morning in order to make the 1:00 pm curtain call. Sounds easy right? Not if you're me.
Getting pulled over by a sheriff really puts a damper on plans! I was traveling on a deserted road I always use that takes me to I-10 towards home. I was innocently following the police car for several miles, when he suddenly decided to move over to the right lane so I would pass him. I did. He then put on his lights and I was forced to stop in the middle of nowhere. He got out of the car and walked up to my window. Said nothing...just stood there. Finally I said..."Did I do something wrong?"
He said..."No... not really. I saw you weaving across the center line...and that was why I pulled you over."
I said to the deputy..."If I was weaving across the yellow line, it was a direct result of having FIVE kids and a DOG in the car!"
His response... "FIVE KIDS...??? and a DOG???...Have a nice day maam..and be careful."
Getting pulled over by a sheriff really puts a damper on plans! I was traveling on a deserted road I always use that takes me to I-10 towards home. I was innocently following the police car for several miles, when he suddenly decided to move over to the right lane so I would pass him. I did. He then put on his lights and I was forced to stop in the middle of nowhere. He got out of the car and walked up to my window. Said nothing...just stood there. Finally I said..."Did I do something wrong?"
He said..."No... not really. I saw you weaving across the center line...and that was why I pulled you over."
I said to the deputy..."If I was weaving across the yellow line, it was a direct result of having FIVE kids and a DOG in the car!"
His response... "FIVE KIDS...??? and a DOG???...Have a nice day maam..and be careful."
Monday, April 23, 2007
Are you up for a Good Game of Hide and Seek?
I only know two people in this world that still play hide and seek. True hide and seek, and get delight out of it... hide and seek with 5 rambunctious kids, who'll take you out in a heartbeat.
Often times, our five youngest will visit the home of our two oldest sons, who live together in a nice 4 bedroom house in a quiet residential neighborhood. Sunday, was one of those occasions when my sons acquiesced and said they'd watch the kids...all of them...at once!! WHOO EEE!! (it was my birthday....they had to :) )
After several hours being away with my husband, I arrived to pick up the kids....but to my surprise, they weren't home. TDubs my 21 year old, had walked them to the park near their home a short distance away. As I rounded the corner to the park, at first glance, I didn't see any of the kids...hmmm? Where could they all be?
Suddenly, I heard a big WHOOOP and HOLLER...did a visual scan across the horizon and saw the outline of several kids' body parts protruding from various trees. The other thing I saw was my 225 lb. son galloping full steam across the park toward the playground equipment with Laynibug hot on is heals. Both of them were squealing with laughter. Pure kid-like laughter.
What was all this commotion? Just a big brother playing hide and seek with his siblings...and loving every minute of it. It'll be something that I remember for quite some time.
Often times, our five youngest will visit the home of our two oldest sons, who live together in a nice 4 bedroom house in a quiet residential neighborhood. Sunday, was one of those occasions when my sons acquiesced and said they'd watch the kids...all of them...at once!! WHOO EEE!! (it was my birthday....they had to :) )
After several hours being away with my husband, I arrived to pick up the kids....but to my surprise, they weren't home. TDubs my 21 year old, had walked them to the park near their home a short distance away. As I rounded the corner to the park, at first glance, I didn't see any of the kids...hmmm? Where could they all be?
Suddenly, I heard a big WHOOOP and HOLLER...did a visual scan across the horizon and saw the outline of several kids' body parts protruding from various trees. The other thing I saw was my 225 lb. son galloping full steam across the park toward the playground equipment with Laynibug hot on is heals. Both of them were squealing with laughter. Pure kid-like laughter.
What was all this commotion? Just a big brother playing hide and seek with his siblings...and loving every minute of it. It'll be something that I remember for quite some time.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Dad's Version of Mom's Birthday
This is my birthday week...actually my birthday is on Saturday. Tonight, however, my husband of 27 years planned a small party with the five little ones. The kids were delighted, and so I played along...
What happened is just priceless....and wouldn't you know? I captured it on video....
I'm sure all of you have had moments like this...especially if you've been married an eternity.
If you're within a firewall where YouTube is blocked, you'll have to CLICK HERE:
What happened is just priceless....and wouldn't you know? I captured it on video....
I'm sure all of you have had moments like this...especially if you've been married an eternity.
If you're within a firewall where YouTube is blocked, you'll have to CLICK HERE:
Friday, April 13, 2007
The PR is LOST....
Leave it to me….how in the world do you lose an $8000 assistive speech device in 48 hours? Princess got off the bus with no backpack, and immediately began to get hysterical. She LOVES her PR device. To top it off? It was a loaner from another agency, who made us take a blood oath that Princess would only use it at school…and that it would NOT go home.
OOOPS!
OOOPS!
Freeze Dried (Pre)Teenager
After raising our two oldest sons to the ripe old age of 21 and 24, I've often wished for the ability to be able to just freeze dry my children from the age of about 12 to 20. Wouldn't that be nice, in some ways to just skip over all the moodiness, messiness, and maelstrom that goes along with the lovely teenage years?
I had put that wish on the back shelf for the last year or so, when our second eldest son turned 20, and started actually resembling an adult...until yesterday.
Laynibug turned twelve, 25 days ago. That must be the incubation period for the (pre)teenage disease to take hold, because although I saw symptoms before, she really broke out with a confirmed case yesterday.
"Laynibug, your teacher emailed me and told me that you're unfocused at school, and are failing two classes..."
"No, Mom, I'm not failing anything, I swear."
"Laynibug, didn't you hear me? The teacher E-MAILED me. She gave me your averages."
"Really, MOM, I'm not failing anything. I don't know why she (the teacher) thinks that."
At this point, I gave up. Wasn't worth it. Clueless...(one of the classic symptoms)...
So, I put her at the computer knowing that she had a book report due the next day that she's known about for about 2 weeks. I instructed her to start typing her report while I went to pick up three other children, which I knew would approximate the time it would take for her to complete this task. I had confidence that the yet unconfirmed diagnosis would not cloud her judgment. She'd pull this off...she'd pull through.
WRONG. Where was she when I returned? Down the street, playing with friends. How much typing had she done on the book report? NONE!
If you know me at all, I can leave to your imagination the expletives that came from my mouth...(to myself of course)...
"Laynibug, why didn't you type your report?"
"Well, Mom, IT WOULDN'T LET ME!"
After this exchange I knew it was a confirmed case of (pre)teenageditus. Full blown....all the classic symptoms. Verbal bravado, sluggishness, confusion, rebellion...all the classics were there.
Now I was berating myself for the lost year of production...I could have been much closer to my great freeze dried teenager discovery had I not fallen into the trap of self denial.
With this realization cemented firmly in my mind, I knew I'd better get ready....because for now, knowing that teenageitus is incurable for the long run, the only thing that will help me now....
.......is combat gear.
I had put that wish on the back shelf for the last year or so, when our second eldest son turned 20, and started actually resembling an adult...until yesterday.
Laynibug turned twelve, 25 days ago. That must be the incubation period for the (pre)teenage disease to take hold, because although I saw symptoms before, she really broke out with a confirmed case yesterday.
"Laynibug, your teacher emailed me and told me that you're unfocused at school, and are failing two classes..."
"No, Mom, I'm not failing anything, I swear."
"Laynibug, didn't you hear me? The teacher E-MAILED me. She gave me your averages."
"Really, MOM, I'm not failing anything. I don't know why she (the teacher) thinks that."
At this point, I gave up. Wasn't worth it. Clueless...(one of the classic symptoms)...
So, I put her at the computer knowing that she had a book report due the next day that she's known about for about 2 weeks. I instructed her to start typing her report while I went to pick up three other children, which I knew would approximate the time it would take for her to complete this task. I had confidence that the yet unconfirmed diagnosis would not cloud her judgment. She'd pull this off...she'd pull through.
WRONG. Where was she when I returned? Down the street, playing with friends. How much typing had she done on the book report? NONE!
If you know me at all, I can leave to your imagination the expletives that came from my mouth...(to myself of course)...
"Laynibug, why didn't you type your report?"
"Well, Mom, IT WOULDN'T LET ME!"
After this exchange I knew it was a confirmed case of (pre)teenageditus. Full blown....all the classic symptoms. Verbal bravado, sluggishness, confusion, rebellion...all the classics were there.
Now I was berating myself for the lost year of production...I could have been much closer to my great freeze dried teenager discovery had I not fallen into the trap of self denial.
With this realization cemented firmly in my mind, I knew I'd better get ready....because for now, knowing that teenageitus is incurable for the long run, the only thing that will help me now....
.......is combat gear.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Letting Her Out
Our youngest daughter, aged 3 has severe CAS, Childhood Apraxia of Speech. This simply means that she does not have the neurological ability to create the coordination to articulate speech. She's bright as a button, and has above average intelligence, but can't communicate those thoughts and feelings because of her CAS.
Yesterday, our school district provided her with a speech generative device. It will do the talking for her. Here's what happened when I gave it to her....
I’m anxious to see if that’s what happened.
Yesterday, our school district provided her with a speech generative device. It will do the talking for her. Here's what happened when I gave it to her....
Last night, bringing home the Prentke Romich to Princess was one of those moments you never forget. She caught on right away, and in her playing, discovered the keys that said her name, where she lives, her school and her dog’s name. After she heard that the machine could SAY the things that people ask her all the time, she audibly GASPED, put her hands over her mouth, looked at me with a HUGE grin, and attempted to tell me…that the machine could say what she couldn’t. She carried it with her the rest of the night…wouldn’t let it out of her sight.
She GOT it right away, and was drawn to it like it was a missing appendage. During the course of the night I showed her the I want, and where the foods were listed, and told her that she needed to teach Miss Emily today. When she got up this morning, she went and got the PR put it around her neck and let me know that she was ready for the mission in which I had entrusted her…she was going to teach Ms. Emily….
I’m anxious to see if that’s what happened.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
(In)sanity among the five
This blog is composed of the trials and tribulations of having 7 children...5 transracially adopted at birth through the Child Protective services of our state.
Out of the 7, the youngest adopted 5 still live at home and range in age from 12 to 3. Each of them have special needs in some way, some small, some large.
This blog will make you laugh, cry and maybe stand up and cheer. Hang on...our five will give you a run for your money!!
Out of the 7, the youngest adopted 5 still live at home and range in age from 12 to 3. Each of them have special needs in some way, some small, some large.
This blog will make you laugh, cry and maybe stand up and cheer. Hang on...our five will give you a run for your money!!
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