Mommy is tech-savvy!

I've always wanted to embed a video in my blog, and I finally fingered out how to do it (it was as hard as clicking on "Add a video" and then waiting what felt like all afternoon for it to be uploaded).

Unfortunately, this is probably the worst home-made vidya ever made. My apologies in advance. I call it "The Sick Maker". Let me know how far you are able to watch it...prizes will not be awarded, but if you at least *listen* all the way through, you can hear Tomorrow say "anga" (angry) -- although I think she was "ungry" (hungry). At the end, I help her say/sign "bah-bah" (bottle). I'm surprised she didn't scream "FUNGRY", as long as it took me to stop recording, get her out of that silly contraption, and give her the bah-bah already.

I can hear her at one year of age: "Somebody call my Case Worker!"

Struggling in Attachment

This post has been a long time coming...I don't even know if it will be completely coherent as I'm still sorting through some complicated feelings I can't quite finger out yet...please bear with me...

I've definitely realized there's a cycle to my struggle with attachment (after almost five months of bonding 24/7; you think it's time?!): It's all about the weekly visits with Tomorrow's biological family. (BTW, is it weird to say biological? Should I say birth family? I didn't get a rule book with the baby, KWIM?)

All week long I go about my business, loving Tomorrow as if she is "my own" baby. In the morning, when Mike brings her to me, I take her reluctantly at first but her warm little body instantly melts me. If she's been sleeping in her crib I bring her to bed and I cuddle her up and kiss her sweet face. If she's sleepy, I will doze with her in my arms as long as she wants or until the boys wake me up. If she's wide awake for the morning, I let her lay next to me and babble, and I try to read or write while she practices rolling over and crawling (backwards). Sometimes we play silly games like "What's that under the blanket?" (it's usually my foot). When I get out of bed, I tie her on to me in a carrier, like a piece of clothing I will wear for most of the day. All day long I feed, burp, and change her. I still massage her at least one day, and share Reiki time with her and stretch her legs out as well. I love to play peek-a-boo and tickle her to hear her giggle. I wear her in a carrier so I can comfort and entertain her, while tending to the boys and the house. At night, I swaddle, rock and sing lullabies to her. She fights going to sleep at night but I am proud to say have never let her cry it out (or cry without being held). When she finally lets go with a sigh, I experience an emotional letdown. My milk even lets down sometimes (I express for her) and my salty tears fall, too. I hold her until she falls into a deep sleep and begins to "talk to the angels" (that's what Nana calls it when babies are falling asleep and their eyes move around and they smile and sometimes even appear to be mouthing words and nodding). I whisper sweet nothings to her and she smiles and nods in her sleep, and nestles into my bosom. I watch her as she sleeps so peacefully, and I can see the beautiful woman she will become. She appears so tiny, and at the same time so wise. I bow to the divine being which resides in her.

It rarely occurs to me anymore, through any of our activities, that she isn't my child.

So when Monday rolls around and I have to get ready for the weekly visit, I am conflicted. Actually, it starts on Sunday, with this sinking feeling when I think of what I need to do for the next day. I've never liked Mondays anyway, now I loathe them even more. I've tried to fake a nonchalant attitude of "Oh, it's just a short visit! No biggie!" but that always falls short of the truth.

So as attached as we are and as perceptive as she is, it only makes sense that she picks up on my stress. It starts with naps. Normally, I can swaddle/rock/sing to her and put her down for all naps in her crib. Not on Mondays. Usually, I can lay her in her "fascinette" in our bedroom (an Arm's Reach co-sleeping sidecar to which I have attached some crinkly and squeaky toys) and get dressed, make the bed et cetera. But not on Mondays.

This past Monday was an exceptionally tense and frustrating one. She was more vocal than ever about not wanting to be put down, and practically screamed at me all day. Everything I needed to get done was a struggle because she wanted my undivided attention, as in eye contact and silly faces all day. When Mike came home to drive us to the visit, I was at the end of my rope. I was almost relived to take her to the visit. And while we waited for our food at Denny's, I told Mike and the boys that I had had a hard day because she needed me so much and I wasn't even attached to her (yeah right!). Needless to say, Mike looked at me like I had seven heads. Hammy said, "Me neither." And Moose added, "Yeah, she is annoying." I felt detached. I could let go. I said something to the effect of "Think of the things we can do without a baby once again if she's reunified with her bio mom!" I was whistling in the dark. In retrospect, it's almost comical.

When we picked her up, she gave me a big gummy grin, grabbed both sides of my face and planted a kiss on my chin. The thick layer of skin I had tried to grow fell off. It wasn't even glued on. I don't think I even have enough glue for the job. I cried sitting in the middle row next to her all the way home. Once there, she didn't want us to put her down for a second and it was okay.

Clearly, I'm attached to my foster baby, and in the words of the great writer Maya Angelou, "I wouldn't take nothin' for my journey now"...BUT I do worry a great deal (and maybe too much) about what will happen to her and me if she is "reunified" with her bio mom and her family of origin. And this may sound selfish, but I worry mostly about me and how I will cope (or not) and how it might affect our "core family" (that is what the professionals call the foster family that may include already-adopted or biological children). I figure I don't worry as much about what the aftermath would be like for her anymore because I know that I basically won't be able to do a damn thing to help her through the tough transition.

Will I be able to function? Will I need to get on anti-depressants again? Will I need therapy? Will I ever want to hold another baby again? Will I ever be able to fill that whole in my heart, in her room, and in our life? Will I come out on the other side better or worse for wear? Will I harden?

Sometimes I wonder why I did this at all. Should I have known better? I get attached to plants. What was I thinking? Why didn't anyone stop me from doing this to myself? Where is this path trying to take me? When will it end? What am I supposed to do or learn that I am not seeing?

Hairdo Issues

Many folk think white mommies can't do black hair. I say it ain't so.

The above pix are from my first attempt at doing Tomorrow's hair. I think the look on her face says it all. She did not enjoy the process AT ALL. And I don't think her hair is long enough to put in barrettes anyway so I won't torture her again until it's quite a bit longer. It looks so cute when I just wet it & "bump it up" with my fingers into an adorable little 'fro of ringlets anyway.

Last night, the foster mother of Tomorrow's four- and seven-year-old sisters, whom I shall call "Fara", told me that when we meet up at the mall, she'll teach me how to do Baby Grrl's hair.

We'll see if she calls me. I've given her my number but she hasn't given me hers.

I pink peggy paisley heart my Babyhawk!

Babyhawk = a mei tai or Asian-style baby carrier

Babyhawk's motto is "The cure for the common baby carrier".

This print is Pink Peggy Paisley. The straps are Espresso.

http://www.babyhawk.com/

CAUTION: Baby carriers are addictive! I've *almost* tried them all. I still love the Moby Wrap for long hikes and especially when it's chilly and I want to wear a shawl myself. (Moby = Mother & baby) but nothing compares to the Babyhawk mei tai for comfort and style. It is *the* baby carrier for hip mamas who don't like to wear their babies on their hips! ;>) Although you can wear a MT on your hip, I really love them because they distribute the weight over both shoulders with lumbar support. And I love that the Babyhawk provides head support for Tomorrow. She falls asleep in it almost every day, usually when I am vacuuming! (Yes, I do vacuum everyday~ we share our home with a very hairy dog so I have to suck up the hair daily since Tomorrow is on the floor a lot these days.)

The origin of my sideways ponytail = Tomorrow. She likes to pull my hair.

She also pinches at my tattoo!

DNA Confirms We're Out of Africa

DNA Confirms We're Out of Africa
Associated Press

Point of Origin
Feb. 21, 2008

A new genetic analysis of people from around the world adds further confirmation to the African origin of humans.

The study of genetic details from 938 individuals from 51 populations provides evidence of how people are related and different, researchers led by Richard M. Myers of Stanford University report in Friday's issue of the journal Science.

The team looked at variations in 650,000 sections of each of the DNA samples, providing a view of the similarities and differences between people in greater detail than had been available previously.

Scientists have long believed that modern humans first developed in Africa and spread from there to populate the rest of the world, a theory strongly supported by the new analysis, the researchers said.

In addition, they noted that residents of the Middle East can trace their ancestry to both Africa and Europe, which they said is logical since the region formed a bridge for movement back and forth between the areas.

Also, they noted, they found a close a relationship between the Yakut population of Siberia and native Americans, who are believed to have migrated from Siberia via a land bridge at a time of lower sea levels.

The research was supported by the National Institutes of Health.

The thick plottens!

So it turns out the Dum-Dum incident is being taken seriously, and a staff meeting has been scheduled for here at our place March 3rd. Apparently, what's most serious about it is that the Case Aide is saying it didn't happen-- yet I have the freaking pix of it. Un-be-weave-able! See, I had bought a disposable camera for the family visits so I could make a photo album for Baby Grrl with pix of her mom and sisters, hoping that would help their faces seem more familiar to her. I was just trying to do something for Tomorrow and for her mom who wishes she could see the baby more often. So they took photos over two visits, half of them from the second of those two visits, which was on the Monday before Valentine's Day, and before the bio mom & I had The Lollipop Discussion. So what does she do? Gives the baby lollipops and takes photos of it! It's so America's Dumbest Criminals. I mean really. And the expressions on bio mom and Unknown Female Family Member's faces in the pix say, 'Nanny nanny boo boo, we're givin' her lollipops anyway!' I'm not making it up.

What irks me is that the Case Aide is denying it occurred. I happen to have a photo of *her* sitting off to the side in the visit, apparently knitting or something and clearly not paying much attention to the chaos of eight females swirling around her.

This is not at all what I signed up for. At the risk of causing friction in our so far very cordial relationship, I really want to tell Bio Mom to sign up for a parenting class already, and for the Case Aide to make sure *someone* at the visit is certified in CPR. As I tell Tomorrow every day, "Save the drama for your mama!"

The following pix are of Tomorrow's first taste of solid food: home-made sweet potato. Because you are what you eat and I can make my own baby food. :>D I had boiled and pureed some sweet potatoes for a batch of Deliciously Deceptive macaroni and cheese so I thought I'd give her the spatula to taste. She licked it all off and then wanted some more! And as it turned out, the spatula made a great teether.

Sending out an SOS

http://www.vladstudio.com/

In other news, I finally met the other foster mom (the four and seven year old sisters' new foster mom), "Fara", and she is really nice and down-to-Earth. She told me to be glad that I didn't tell the Denver County case worker we would take the two girls if they had to be moved again, because they fight all.the.time. Her other main impression so far is that the girls eat really fast, as if they were often deprived of food. She also said that the four y.o. girl starts to tell her things and the seven y.o. shuts her up; although she did manage to find out that the four y.o. told her older foster daughter that they "lived in a really dirty apartment with beer cans all over the place". :>(

More pix of our little Valentine!

Obviously, I went a little overboard on the Valentine's day clothing, but remember: This is our first daughter, and this is our first Valentine's Day with the First Daughter.

{if there's a} next year we'll throw a huge party!

Cutie Patootie between wardrobe changes in a Kushie AIO.
And finally, the last outfit of the day:
Little Cupcake in the best bib ever {it has a waterproof layer in the middle}.
Blowing raspberries at me {I taught her that!}
This is the cutest little onesie, with pink embroidered hearts all over it, and it is by ALL MINE.

I sure wish she was all mine.

I have a hard time with the new Carter's "Just One Year" line, too. I always wonder, will we have just one year with Baby Grrl? We have to cherish every moment just in case. And like my friend Hopey said, none of us really know how long we will have our children with us, so let's all love that way, shall we?

MWAH! & S.W.A.K.

My Funny Valentine

So I'm beginning to realize I may be a bit obsessed with girls clothing...and I know the first step in recovery is admitting one's addiction is unmanageable...but what if one doesn't want to stop?!

Having a daughter seems to have brought out the girlie girl in me.

This is what Tomorrow wore to her visit on Monday {with a fleece pullover from The Children's Place that has pink, purple and red hearts all over it *and* a coordinating fleece blanket!}:

(I expected to collect quite a few quarters after the visit, but no such luck.)

A close-up of the Nikes her bio mom bought her:

(At first, I HATED them. I said I would put them in the closet and she would NEVER wear them. But then my heart talked me into putting them on her for the Valentine's Day week visit, and I have to admit they really are cute.)

Then this is what her daddy put her in this morning (pinkity-pink with matching pink "my little sweetheart" bib!):

(Though you can't see how cute the sleeper is in this pic, the way she holds her feet is classic!)

Happy Valentine's Day

Tomorrow sent an ecard to all her fans today, thanking them for helping her feel loved, and this is the photo she chose for it: The adorable sweater set was a gift from her Great-Aunt "Taffy". There is nothing cuter on a little baby girl than a sweater with sweater pants and a hat! It's in the prettiest pink color~ not a bubble gum pink but almost a coral-y pink~ with bows all over the sweater!

Okay, so I'm a fashion-obsessed mommy but it's my first daughter and I didn't really play with Barbies like most girls so give me a break!

And if you're wondering who got that sweet smile out of her it was Hammy.

Sisters are doin' it for themselves!

In Colorado, sisters (age: 17 and 9, when they came in care) were separated and placed into foster care due to their biological mother’s drug addiction. The older sister emancipated herself and went on to have two children. After she had her two children, the foster parents cut off contact between the sisters (age: 22 and 13, now). They have not seen each other for two years. Young adults that were once foster children made a difference by going to the Colorado legislature to testify for foster siblings to have the right to remain in contact with each other. They were successful in their fight for the rights of foster children and have impacted the lives of current and future foster children. Foster sibling relationships are another thing that gets lost in the foster care system and has become a casualty. This is another area where the children pay the price for their biological parents issues."


Bill to help siblings in foster care:

"House Bill 1006 has passed in Colorado that will help foster children that have siblings in different foster homes and also when a sibling ages out of foster care. It is not uncommon for foster children to be separated in foster care. In some areas, foster siblings can find themselves separated by a number of miles making visits difficult and more likely not to happen. In these situations, siblings are the only family that these foster children may have. A lot of foster children did not have biological parents that they could depend on, so they learned to depend only on each other. In most cases, the bond with foster siblings is a very strong one. The older children tends to be the parent so to speak, since there was not a biological parent around or able to parent. It can be very difficult and hard on the older children not be in the parental position once they enter foster care."

I cannot even imagine foster parents coming between me and my two sisters (or Tomorrow and her FIVE sisters) and I am so glad to know that there is legislation being enacted to help protect the rights of siblings to remain in contact with each other.

The bond between siblings can be stronger than the bond between a parent and a child-- perhaps especially in situations where there has been abuse and neglect.

A huge part of why I feel that the court-ordered visits Tomorrow has *are* so important is that she gets to be with her sisters who all adore her and shower her with love.

*The above (quoted) is taken from a really great blog I've been reading that is all about fostering: http://foster-care.adoptionblogs.com

Letting Off Steam

After visits, we all do it. Tomorrow looks at us and smiles her crooked I'm-only-smiling-because-I- know-it's-the-socially-acceptable-thing-to-do-right-now smile while simultaneously looking as if she is about to cry, then usually laughs and then cries. She is verrry clingy-- and those of you who know me well, and how much I love babies, know that I normally would not use the word clingy to describe babies who simply want to be held. Clingy = I cannot put her down, in a desperate way. Not just that she would rather be held or worn, but as if she is screaming DO NOT LET ME GO. It feels like fear. It looks like fear. It sounds like fear. Of course, we just hold her. We kiss her. We tell her we missed her. We let her sleep on us (she will normally sleep in her crib for the first three hour nap of the night but not after visits).

Yesternight her bio mom gave Tomorrow some hair cream that contains hormones (mink oil, anyone?), a hat and mittens in size 2-4T (the T is for toddler), size 4-6 socks (she is a size 2), size 1 moccasins (?), a pair of red and pink Nikes (!), a Tweety Bird (for ages 3+) that dances and sings I Want Candy, and a Dum Dum (lollipop) "FOR HER TO TEETHE ON".

My knee-jerk reaction was to call her Case Worker, but I decided I was over-reacting. The woman apparently has no clue what is developmentally appropriate or nutritionally sound, and doesn't even know what size Tomorrow is wearing. Notes to self.

Just a mom?

A woman, renewing her driver's license at the County Clerk 's office,

was asked by the woman recorder to state her occupation.

She hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself.
"What I mean is, " explained the recorder,

"do you have a job or are you just a ...?"

"Of course I have a job," snapped the woman. "I'm a Mom."

"We don't list 'Mom' as an occupation, 'housewife' covers it," Said the recorder emphatically.

I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in the same situation, this time at our own Town Hall. The Clerk was obviously a career woman, poised, efficient, and possessed of a high sounding title like, "Official Interrogator" or "Town Registrar."

"What is your occupation?" she probed.

What made me say it? I do not know.

The words simply popped out.

"I'm a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human Relations."

The clerk paused, pen frozen in midair and looked up as though she had not heard right.

I repeated the title slowly emphasizing the most significant words. Then I stared with wonder as my pronouncement was written, in bold, black ink on the official questionnaire.

"Might I ask," said the clerk with new interest,"just what you do in your field?"

Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply,

"I have a continuing program of research, (what mother doesn't) In the laboratory and in the field, (normally I would have said indoors and out). I'm working for my Masters, (first, Spirit, and then the whole family) and already have four credits (all daughters). Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the humanities, (any mother care to disagree?) and I often work 14 hours a day, (24 is more like it). But the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers and the rewards are more of a satisfaction rather than just money."

There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk's voice as she completed the form, stood up, and personally ushered me to the door.

As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career, I was greeted by my lab assistants -- ages 13, 7, and 3. Upstairs I could hear our new experimental model, (a 6 month old baby) in the child development program, testing out a new vocal pattern. I felt I had scored a beat on bureaucracy! And I had gone on the official records as someone more distinguished and indispensable to mankind than "just another Mom."

Motherhood, what a glorious career!

Especially when there's a title on the door.

Does this make grandmothers "Senior Research Associates

in the field of Child Development and Human Relations?"

And great grandmothers "Executive Senior Research Associates?" I think so!

I also think it makes Aunts "Associate Research Assistants."