cuteness and love

To answer a previous question of Cindy's "Can that kid [Ashlin] get any cuter?" the answer is Yes! Yes she can! We attended Taryn's spring concert yesterday and the music teacher is a very expressive conductor. About 2/3 of the way along Ashlin starts moving her arms like she is conducting the whole thing. She noticed me watching, and then stopped. Thank goodness for peripheral vision because she checked again once my eyes were on the stage and started up the arm swinging. Around me I heard others whispering about how cute she was. An enthusiastic applauder, too.

I forgot one thing I learned last weekend. How long we SHOULD take to get ready is a totally different amount than how long we WILL take to get ready. I stress myself out less if I plan for the latter.

Today is our 10th anniversary and our first date in who knows how long. We're going to Montana's. No, not a romanitc atmosphere, but you can't beat the food.

pet diaries

Subject: Fw: A Pet's Diary

As seen in a dog's diary:

7am- Oh boy! A walk! My favorite!
8am- Oh boy! Dog food! My favorite!
9am- Oh boy! The kids! My favorite!
Noon- Oh boy! The yard! My favorite!
2pm- Oh boy! A car ride! My favorite!
3pm- Oh boy! The kids! My favorite!
4pm- Oh boy! Playing ball! My favorite!
6pm- Oh boy! Mom! My favorite!
7pm- Oh boy! Dad! My favorite!
8pm- Oh boy! Dog food! My favorite!
11pm- Oh boy! Sleeping in people's beds! My favorite!

As seen in a cat's diary:

Day 183 of my captivity...
My captors continued to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects.
They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal.

The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction
that I get from clawing the furniture.

Tomorrow I may eat another houseplant.
Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they
were walking almost succeeded-- must try this at the top of the stairs.
In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again
induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair-- must try this on their bed.
Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body in an attempt to make
them aware of what I am capable of, and try to strike fear in their hearts.
They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was.
Hmmm, not working according to plan.
There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in
solitary throughout the event.
However, I could hear the noise and smell the food. More importantly, I
overheard that my confinement was due to MY power of "allergies". Must learn
what this is and how to use it to my advantage.
I am convinced that the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches.
The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return.
He is obviously a half-wit.

The bird, on the other hand, has got to be
an informant and speaks with them regularly. I am certain that he
reports my every move. Due to his placement in the metal room, his safety is assured.

But I can wait, it is only a matter of time....

No I didn't write this - someone sent it to me by email. In case anyone's wondering, I'm definitely a dog person.

What I learned over the last few days.

If the above image doesn't work, which it probably won't, go to this link for your visual clue (the April 25 Baby Blues comic) of the first thing I've learned: It doesn't matter how good your intentions are - each successful child will have less attention to detail than the one before. Conor's first birthday was yesterday. For Taryn we invited all the uncles and aunts and friends and I made sure to make and decorate a cake myself? This time? My folks were around because of grad, I bought from DQ and it only occurred to me yesterday to buy a gift.

I've learned that you can't change people and you probably shouldn't try. My mother - she drives me insane. She talks incessantly, and she loves to eat really fast. So she jams her mouth full of food and then proceeds to fill me in on all the latest details of people's lives who I care nothing about while giving me a see food display I could really do without. I managed to only comment on it once this time. I've finally learned that visits go better if I don't nitpick and try to change her. There is one thing I didn't let go, and I'm glad I didn't. After grad when we were hanging around she started to do her other favorite thing: complain vehemently. She was going on and on about everything that she didn't like about the speakers, the dignitaries, some guy filming with a video camera, and I told her I'd rather focus on the positive, happy parts of my day, because...

Celebration is a wonderful thing. I've gained the ability to be in the moment and really appreciate what is going on. At grad, I relished the fact that I was being celebrated, my accomplishments were being recognized. I was proud (in a humble, Christian way of course), I was happy. It was a great day.

The fourth is that I realized...it's funny, I just paused for a long time from typing. I paused because of the old pride/humility thing. When does one pass over that line that could be called bragging? But I do want to say this, so I'm just going to come out with it, and if I'm bragging, someone admonish me, okay? I realized that I am thought of well, in general. Many students and faculty commented on my intelligence and those who have seen my marks (I haven't yet) insinuated that they were very good this last term, as they have been all along. And that's nice. I like being smart. What really blew me away, though, were two of my social work professors, who told me that I really should think about getting my masters degree, and maybe even my doctorate! I have thought a great deal about MSW, but I really didn't see a DSW in my future. That they think I have the potential for that is thrilling.


celebrations

Grad weekend is upon us. My parents got in last night - but are staying at a motel, so I'm sane. My sister and her family are coming in today. Tonight is the grad banquet. Tomorrow we are having a family brunch. The afternoon is a grad photo and then the ceremony itself, then a reception at the college.

This week is Conor's first birthday, Taryn's first school concert, our 10th anniversary.

I would really like to get out with some of my friends in the near future, too. I just feel too overwhelmed to arrange it at the moment!

Judi

Ashlin was very poop aware on the way to get Taryn today. She was telling me to watch out for dog poop and cat poop and robin poop. The robin poop tickled my funny bone and I decided I had to push this some more?
"How about falcon poop?" I asked.
"Yes, falcon poop, too," she said.
"How about seagulls?"
"Yes, seagulls make poop, too."
"How about horses?"
"Yes, horses make poop."
"How abou cows?"
"No, Mommy! Cows make milk!"
I explained how cows make both milk and poop, which she interpreted as somebody making milk out of poop.
All things finally clarified, we arrived at school.

A tribute

I have a friend...well, I have many friends... well, at least a few...but anyhow, the friend I am about to tell you about...without revealing her identity, because I don't want to embarass her, but she knows who she is...I'm going to tell you about her as a kind of tribute, because she has grown...in mental, emotional, spiritual ways, not physical, she's actually quite slim.

Anyhow...

This friend, "A", is someone who had some very rough times growing up, and like a lot of kids who get hurt, turned it inward. Self-love was a foreign concept for A. She looked for love from guys, and ended up with some beautiful children, but not lasting relationships. She looked for escape through drugs and ended up addicted. And she lost her kids to CFS when things got too bad.

But she turned things around. Man, did she turn things around. She entered treatment, got off ALL drugs, even the ones that had been prescribed for her. She got a place to live, she got a job. Now she's been clean for over two years and has been employed for over one. She has taken all the recommendations of CFS and run with them.

But CFS still decided to go for permanent custody, even after she completed all their requirements. Needless to say, after working so hard for reunification, this was devastating. But she had learned to believe in herself, and would not go along with the permanent order. Even her lawyer didn't support her, and advised her to just go along with it and get the best visitation possible. But she refused, because she knew in her heart that she was a good mom and that her little ones needed her.

So last week she went to court. She was on the stand for hours.

She won. The judge ordered reunification plans to begin immediately and for visits to increase.

A, you have done so well. The growth I have seen in you is amazing. You ARE a good mom and you will continue to be a good mom when your kids go home with you. You have overcome so much, and you are strong.

We have joined the 21st century

YES! We have high speed internet now and a new computer.
I don't know how to do anything! We had been on Windows 95!!

Slight change of plans

As of today, I am casually employed at HCMO. Which is the worst possible arrangement – no benefits AND no tax breaks. But it’s not permanent. The managers suddenly realized that they can’t offer me a contract without going through the correct channels. So, now they are going to go through the correct channels and THEN I can get a contract.

In the meantime, I can still do most of my work at home, which is quite nice. Rob made some comment about the office wear of the contract worker as I strolled down the stairs with my cup of java wearing a purple nightshirt and his green robe.

I often think about the kids I worked with at the group home. I'm sure there were well over 100 and I only remain in contact with a few, so I often wonder what happened to them.

Malls and buses are two good places to find out. This morning I looked across the aisle and saw a very familiar looking, albeit 11 years older, face. It was a kid I used to work with, and at the time I knew her, I was scared for her. Disturbed is a word I don't like to use, but it's the only one I can think of that accurately sums up the sadness, hostility and lostness that seemed to encompass her.

She's now a health care aid, on the waiting list to get her LPN training. She has kids and it sounds like she was in a committed relationship with their dad, although they've separated now. We were talking about child care and she said her daughter was not liking her day care because there are some older kids "who swear and stuff." I had to laugh and explained that after so long, it was weird to hear her talking like that - she was very foul-mouthed. She said she knew, that sometimes she didn't think she'd ever get better. But she obviously has.

I'm not going to take credit for her transformation, that belongs to her. But I am going to hang on to this tiny thought that a little bit of what I tried to communicate to her about her worth and value got through.

Insert foot "A" into mouth "B"

So I'm at the lunch table, right? And the conversation is, in a nutshell, about how old we're all getting, you know, how big a deal 30 or 40 or 50 is, and how we really realize how old we are when are friend's kids are teenagers, etc.

The conversation winds down, my brain farts and I burst out, "Yep," slapping my knee, "Death's coming!"

Now if I had said that in front of, say, Rob, or our friend Ward, they would have laughed. Rob did laugh, in fact, when I told him. The people at lunch, however, seemed rather stunned. One person said, "That's terrible!" The silence remained awkward.

Good thing I already have the contract!

Voices

Got this email this morning:

"Voices - Manitoba's Youth In Care is proud to administer two separate scholarships to young individuals currently or formerly in the care of the Manitoba Child Welfare System. The Voices - Manitoba's Youth in Care scholarship, valued at $500, and the Peter D. Curry Memorial scholarship, valued up to $4000. The selection of candidates is based on the individual's financial need, potential for success, past community involvement, and desire to give back to their community."

Bev or others - do we know any kids that are pursuing post secondary right now? They can check out: http://www.voices.mb.ca/Voices.html

I have a contract into July.

I HAVE A CONTRACT!!!!!!!!!!

I am a self-employed social worker!

I ROCK!

I need an accountant (help - anyone? anyone?)

This morning I met with my supervisor and the ED. It looks very, very (99%) hopeful that I will be offered 2 contracts for the next couple of months.

Keep you posted....

I now have a grad outfit. I decided to just start with my black skirt and bought more (top, cami, sandals, purse, necklace and earrings) to go with it. I took a long, long time to decide - I put it aside at the store and walked around the mall, thinking, then came back for it. You see - it's very bold. Partridge Family bold. I'm used to using my clothes to hide behind for quite a few years. Rob said I looked hot, so I think I'm feeling okay about wearing it for the banquet. I'll wear it to the ceremony, too, but as I'll be in a robe most of that day, not so important.

update

I finished off all my assignments about a week and a half ago. Now I just have 5 practicum days to complete. Then I'm done. Grad on April 24.

Another, better, policy analyst position has come up that I will apply for. In the meantime, I am going to be talking to my supervisor and the ED on monday to get more concrete about contract work. Even if I get one of the positions, I'll have a few weeks in which I could finish off the projects I've started while I was here. And if I don't get either position, there is tons more work that they could give me contracts for.

Oh, *THAT* was fun

Taryn - I pick her up from school. I agree to let her play in the school yard for awhile. I tell her my back is too sore to push her on the swings today. I read. We are there for 25 minutes. I give her a five minute warning. I giver her a two minute warning. I tell her it is time to go.

She goes ballistic. For two blocks she screams, cries, stands in front of me and tries to push me backwards.

This is what I mean by intense on the negative side of things.

I'm trying not to be worried, but now I'm wondering if I should be.

We talked about it once she calmed down. No, nothing's wrong at school. No, nothing's wrong at home. She just didn't get to play - she had wanted to play on the swings but only if there was no one else on a swing beside her. So she didn't play.

What If: Fraser Mustard

What If: Fraser Mustard: "The biggest failure in your culture and mine is that we argue about poverty and welfare. We don't argue about how to sustain a reasonably cohesive and integrated community which optimizes human development -- for everybody."

This man is my new hero.

A different daughter

Taryn is a bit different lately. It's like she's obsessed with me. She draws tons of pictures of Taryn and Mommy, every one of which has "I love you" on it. She's wanting to give affection a lot more than usual. At the same time, she is pushing the limits more than ever. This is not a complaint, not an alarm, just me musing about the intensity in her and wondering the meaning behind it.