HAH!

I PASSED that fingerprint test, chickadoo!  At least that’s what I gather from the e-mail I received from the home study specialist.  We’re on the right track.  Need health forms, fire and health inspections and CPR/First-Aid.

Mr. Man pulled up more carpet this weekend.  We got more stuff packed to send to charity.  I INTENDED to paint the children’s room this week, but when I saw Mr. Man had moved the furniture from the dining room INTO the intended children’s room, I kinda knew that was off. So instead,  I scrubbed out wood floors, that’ve definitely had some life experience.  We’ll need  to get those refinished  eventually. 

It rained this evening.  I was pleased to turn off the radio and listen to the big fat drops patter on the roof  of the car.  The air smells so clean.  Rain around here acts like a great tranqulizer.  We’re always so wound up with the wind and the heat. But tonight, everyone is kicked back and soaking it in!

On that note, I’ll sign offand get to the laundry. 

Toddlerisms

“I love you bigger than the sky,” I say.

Toddler smiles. “And longer than the lake.”

I’m not sure where “longer than the lake” came from, but nonetheless, it’s true.  “And longer than the lake.”

Later, Grandma gets in on the act, after Toddler and I make another exchange like this.

“And I love you a bushel and a peck,” says Grandma.

“Huh?”  says Toddler.

Grandma smiles.  “A bushel and a peck and a  hug around the neck,” she sings.

“Oh.” Says Toddler, absorbing this new phrase.

We begin to explain it’s another way of telling her how much we love her, but Toddler is tired of the mushy stuff.  “You guys, if you keep saying that, I’m going to get grumpy.”

______________________________________________________________________________

 ”Run inside and give Grandma a kiss,” I tell Toddler as I hear a hymn beginning that was sung at Granny’s funeral.  Normally, I would be inside the church family room to sing along at the informal gathering, but I got caught outside visiting with some folks.  Toddler trots into the hall, remembering to close the door behind her.  A minute later, she runs outside again.

“Phew,” she exclaims, “They almost sang in my ear.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

As we arrived the first day, Toddler  looked at the church and said, “Is this where I handed things to people last year?”

We smiled, remembering how eager she was to help even as a two-year-old.  “Sure is.  Do you want to help again this year?”

“Sure!”

A little while later, as the food started appearing, I asked Toddler if she was ready to go help.

“Nahhh.”

“Nah?  I thought you wanted to help.  Have you changed you mind?”

“Naahhh.  I’m just lazy.” She plopped face-first into the floppy camp chair next to mine, then turned her head to smile at me as the late afternoon sun dappled through the leaves of the tree we were under.  After a long day playing, and how warm it was, I can’y say I blame her.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Toddler was riding a tricycle around the family hall, and had just happened to wrap Dodger’s leash around the handle to “walk” him. 

“He likes it,” She explained.

The look on his face and the stiffness of his legs told me otherwise. 

_______________________________________________________________________________

Toddler was leaving Thursday.

“I love you bigger than the sky,” I say.

“And longer than the lake,” she finishes, with a pause.  “I love you a bushel and a peck,” she adds.

“And a hug around the neck,” I finish.

As Brother and Toddler drive away, Mom and I get a bit choked up.  “It’s always the hardest part, “she says.

“I know.”

We share a hug, then begin again on our everyday lives.

 

 

 

Where have I been?

Well, In Toddlerland, of course!

SisM and Brother generously offered to let us take Toddler with us to the family reunion, since they couldn’t get the time off from work.  We got to visit with all three of them, in shifts…SisM drove Toddler over last Wednesday, and this Wednesday, Brother came to pick her up and drive her home.  It was great to see them, but not nearly long enough! 

The week between, Mr. Man and I took Toddler and our two pups to San Angelo/Robert Lee to the family reunion. We met Mom there, as well as UncleB and AuntD.  The reunion seemed way too short this year, and there were too many people missing. Those, like Granny and JC and AuntL, who have passed.  People who couldn’t get out of prior commitments.  People who were ill.  Still, we enjoyed each other in our little church hall in our little town. 

Toddler was excited to be on an adventure.  She is learning about jokes.  And she knows one.  One. 

“Knock-Knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Boo.”

“Boo who?”

“Aww, don’t cry.”

I tried this:

“Knock-Knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Orange.”

“Orange who?”

“Orange you glad I didn’t tell you not to cry?”

Like I said, she’s just getting the hang of it.  The “orange” didn’t connect as a substitute for “aren’t you” so various other objects like tables, chairs, and other nouns took the place of honor.  But we laughed anyway, because it was so silly.  There was another little funny…

“What do you call a bunch of ducks in a cardboard square?”

“A Quacker Box!”

*sigh*  How cute is that?

Toddler is a good little traveler.  And Mr. Man and I got our first  “Are we there yet?”  but only once.  The rest was

“How many minutes till we get there?” 

“About a hundred million.”

“WHAT?”

It was a paci-dropping moment.  At three and a half, Toddler is only up to counting to twenty.  Oh, and she remembered the name of the street where our hotel was, the number of our room, and the number of Grandma’s room. Consistently.  All weekend.  BRILLIANT.  Our baby is brilliant.  BUT attached to that pacifier.  But she only uses it when she’s intent on sleeping, or having a major meltdown.  Along with her blankie and pillow. 

Heck, *I* have a blankie and pillow.   And I guess Diet Coke and chocolate are my paci.

(On that note, I think I’ll skip talking about how my Weight Watchers meeting went today.)

As for potty stops, we didn’t have many, surprisingly.  And I can be blamed for those. :)  Once, in an Allsups in Lamesa, Toddler and I were in a stall . . .

“We make a good team, Toddler.  What would we do without each other?”

“Um, go to the potty by ourselves?”

Yeah.  I guess so. That little gem earned a snort and giggle from the stall next door!

Can’t often put one over on the kid either. 

“Eat the cereal in the bowl on the table, Toddler.  It’s still good.”  (She likes hers dry.)

“Noooo-ooo.  I want the cereal out of the box.”

“That cereal in the bowl is perfectly good.”

“Nooooo-ooooo!”

“Yeee–ssss!”

“Noooooo-ooooo!”

“Toddler, I know you just want more marshmallows.  So eat the cereal in the bowl already, first.”

“YOU eat it!” She offers it up to me.

At a stand off, I grab up a few pieces and pop them into my mouth.  The humidity has made them stale.  YUCK. 

“You’re right,”  I admit. ” Let’s get you some more.”

“Yeah.”  She’s a happy camper, and doesn’t hold a grudge or brag.

So much more fun to tell with her, but I’ll save it for another time.

No new news on the Foster front.  Just waiting for the call for our home studies.

Right now, I’m catching up on a few things– Oh, and I’ve learned to Twitter too!  Do YOU Twitter?

 

 

One week to go!

This week in our PRIDE class, the subject was sexual abuse.  Of all the classes, this one was the most difficult for us.  At the same time, it strengthened our commitment.  We both believe there is a reason God pointed us in this direction.  And since He brought us to it, He’ll bring us through it.   We have faith He has something special in mind for us.

Mr. Man and I want a family.  We want at least one of the children placed in our care to be the one we give a “forever family.”  The Developer asked if we wanted to  adopt or foster, and we said both, and emphasized that we really want to adopt.  She said we really should foster first to get the feel of it.  That’s okay.  It’s not going to be easy, giving a child back, but family reunification is the goal.

I overheard one of the other women talking about having her fingerprints done…seems she had a similar experience!  So it wasn’t  just me.  Others jumped in and commented,  too.  Cranky lady.  Next week, we have class on Tuesday and Thursday, and we’re done with that part! 

Still no more progress on that spare closet!  But there’s always tomorrow….

Finales

So, ’tis the season for finales. 

The rising heat and burning Panhandle winds signal us that the end of Spring is near.

This past week has sent my TiVo into a frenzy of recording.  This evening, I’m catching up.  Who will Betty (Ugly Betty) Suarez choose, Gio or Henry? (I hope she kicks Henry to the curb, personally.) 

Grey’s Anatomy ended way too neatly. You know something’s going to happen to Derrick. ‘Wait for me,’ he told Meredith.  Yeah, something’s going to happen to that guy.  And Callie going for Hahn, in place of McSteamy? Forget it.  Really.  Hahn’s such a bitch.  I guess that means that next season, they’ll do something to make me like her. And Alex? Poor baby. 

What about Horatio on CSI Miami?  No way CSI Wolfe is part of a hit.  I’m guessing it’s a staged event to somehow save Horaitio’s son.

NCIS? I was sad for Gibbs.  I’m also thinking there’s sparks between Abby and McGee.  And Ziva and Tony. Tony.  *sigh*  Love that character.  All those reassignments? NO WAY.

CSI–Warrick?! BOOM.   And now the mole is revealed. Who’da thought?

CSI-NY: Mac, c’mon.  You should know better.

Boston Legal–tell me you aren’t cancelled!  Shark– you too!

Desperate Housewives–The jerk got what he deserved.  So did that little twerp of Tom’s.  But jumping forward?  What the heck?

Criminal Minds–EEEK!

Oh, no, I just had a thought. (yeah, it DID hurt, thanks for asking.)  Do late night talk shows go on summer hiatus?  I don’t remember.  I hope not.  I would hate a whole summer without Craig Ferguson.

I watch a few more…I know.  Addicted to TiVo. Bloop-Bloop.  And?  So?

It’s almost the end of the PRIDE (Parent Resource Information Development Education ) classes, our foster parenting instruction.  This week was our class on discipline.  Next week : sexual abuse.  Lots of information has been presented to us about so many things.  I get the feeling it’s only the tip of the iceberg!  Three more classes.  We still have to take out CPR/First Aid course, get life insurance, home health inspection, home fire inspection, construct a will, take pictures of the interior of our home, get TB tests, health certificates, get home studies, provide copies of pet vaccinations…

Today at lunch, I went to WalMart to get some makeup, and browsed by the baby/toddler aisle, daydreaming.  I found the perfect theme!  Gender-neutral Winnie the Pooh.  Done in strong yet not loud greens and other earthy colors.  And it has yellow in it, which will go with the yellow I’m painting. Aye, I still have to finish painting.  But I didn’t buy the comforter and bedding.  We haven’t been approved yet.  I still have the folded baby blanket from when we were pregnant the first time, and it’s bad enough looking at that.  I’ll wait till we have more of a surety of something, this time. 

I went this week to get my fingerprints done for the DPS Background check.  *sigh*  All excited, I was.  After all, that’s the least of my worries, right?  Went into the office for the electronic printing.  The woman was cranky.  A jaded kind of cranky, not just a bad day kind of cranky. First, I notice she starts marking up my application like a pissed off substitute teacher on a rampage.

I don’t say anything about her marking through my middle name and replacing it with my maiden name, like on my driver’s license.  It asked for my middle name, I put my middle name. 

I do, however, ask what I got wrong when she marked off where it asked for my race.  I put Caucasian, fair complexion.  I SWEAR that’s what it asked for. 

“It wasn’t asking whether you were white, it was asking whether you were Hispanic, (stupid.)” Yes, the ’stupid’ was unspoken, but definitely implied in the tone.  Why were they specifically asking about Hispanic, and not any other race?  I’m definitely no ACLU member, but that seems kinda weird. 

I wanted to reply, “Then why did you mark it out and put ‘light’ instead of ‘fair,’ doo-doo head?”  Instead, I meekly chuckled and said, “Um, well, it was late when I filled it out.  I must have been tired.”

I gleefully presented my hands for printing on their little electronic screen, fully confident.   I ain’t scared of no background check…they won’t find SQUAT except I’m not very good with my checkbook and  I had a car accident a couple of years ago when a 16 year old girl stopped on the on-ramp in front of me.  No speeding tickets or otherwise, even.

“Don’t roll your hands.  Just let me do it,” says Miss Cranky.

But, I wasn’t rolling my hands.  Honest.

“Tsk-Tsk.”  She shakes her head.  “Do you have a lot of damage to your fingers?”

“Um, well, I don’t know.” I frown. “I’m a hairdresser and I do nails, and work at a grocery.  Anything’s possible.”

“They aren’t going to accept these.  They look like the kind of prints someone has when they try to alter their prints.” The accusatory tone singed my ears. (Okay. I’m over sensitive sometimes.  Maybe it just hurt my feelings.  Okay.  My EGO.)

“Well, I didn’t.  I have no reason to.” I thought for a moment.  I’d done nails that day. “I may have some glue residue left that I didn’t get removed.”

“Well, there’s 1, 2, 3, 4, 5…they just aren’t going to take these I can almost guarantee it.”

Whatever, I think. I will more than likely be asked to have them done again, but won’t face another fee.  No big deal, they gal’s attitude was just a bit of a bubble burster.  But that’s okay.  I’m still confident.  If I can get past the home health inspection, and fire inspection, I’ll feel even more confident of approval.  Again, the whole idea of someone INSPECTING our housekeeping…*shudder*

I made excellent progress on the spare room.  However, I DID open the closet door, then shut it again really fast.  I guess I’ll try to pump myself up to tackle that Sunday afternoon, after working at the market.  And maybe after checking e-mail…..

Another season ended this week.  Granny’s sister, L___ passed, 5 months after Granny.  5 months before Granny, another of her sisters, M___, passed.  Now there’s only one sister left.  *sigh*

Wanna hear something weird?

Tuesday night, Mom was sitting in the living room when she heard a swoosh-crash from the kitchen.  First, she blamed the dog, a Doberman-Rottweiler mix, who looked up at her from the rug like, “What? What’d I do?”

“Oh,” said Mom,  before going to investigate. 

Turns out, one of Granny’s candles, that Mom had been SURE to push away from the edge just that morning, had shot off the fridge and onto the countertop.

The next morning, she found out L___ had passed away Tuesday night.

Woooleeoooleeeeoooo!

Anyway, I have run on long enough here.  I need to wind down, I suppose, and get to sleep…