Daddy's Little Girl

Another bittersweet aspect of fostering Mara has been watching her get attached to Mike, and vice versa. She is definitely Daddy's Girl. Mike cannot walk into the room we are in when he gets home from work unless he is ready to pick her up and hold her. He has to sneak into his bathroom and unload his pockets, sort through the mail, et cetera quietly before announcing that he is home. If she hears him and he does not pick her up instantly, she wails and will.not.stop.crying.until.he.comes.to.her.

She almost all-ways prefers him, and she lets me know in no uncertain terms that she wants Daddy to carry her/wear her/put her to sleep and not me (she pushes my face or refuses to look at or listen to me and says "dah-dee, dah-dee, dah-dee"). She has even perfected a sign for "hold me" that just melts your heart with its sweetness! She holds both of her arms out and squeezes them together with a slight tilt of her head and a pouty face that says, "Please hold me!" It is absolutely irresistible!

But the worst part is if Mike leaves the room and doesn't take her with him. She becomes hysterical if he doesn't return to the room or come and get her pretty quickly. This is when she cries the silent cry, when she is crying so hard that she is actually not making any sound at all for a while. It is so hard to watch, and especially hard to ignore. We assure her that Mike is coming back, but she is beside herself until he does. Even her brothers cannot take the place of "Dah-dee".

Now I know what Mike has been going through all of these years with the boys preferring me. It was a natural outgrowth of breastfeeding, and I thought they would grow out of it over time, but they still prefer me at bedtime and when they are injured/sick/upset/worried. I have actually prayed and wished that one of them would prefer their dad over me so I could catch a break-- especially when we are all ill or I am really stressed out-- and still it hasn't happened yet. But Mara has a clear preference for Mike, and I have to say it's a relief! I'm not one of those mothers who desperately need to be needed by my children to feel valued, and I encourage interdependence in my kids. I also really really really need time to myself to maintain my equilibrium, and with three kids that's a challenge. I stay up too late on the nights when Mike has Mara just to have time to read or write.

That's another thing: Mike and I now take turns taking care of Mara at night and it has made having a baby half as easy. I can get by being sleep deprived for just one night, especially knowing I will make up for it the very next night. Plus we both enjoy the sacred quiet of giving her a bottle and rocking her back to sleep at night, and neither of us want to miss out on the experience. Mike tells people he never knew how hard it was to take care of a baby! With breastfeeding, he never missed a night of sleep. I co-slept with both of our bio babies and managed to meet their nighttime needs without having to wake him (except when the occasional intestinal bug involved copious vomiting and we ran out of clean sheets). Now he knows the agony of only getting four hours of broken sleep with a teething baby, and how hard the next day of work can be. It's tough when you're an at-home parent and the older kids are relentless the next day, but I can't imagine driving in rush-hour traffic and being at a desk all day running on fumes. At least at home I can lay on the floor while reading to the kids, or even nap with Mara if I engage the boys in an activity that will hold their interest for an hour.

It helps me, too, that Mara loves to go to the store with Mike (something that they do almost every day as we have become quite European with our every-other-day trips to the supermarket) because I know she's happy when she's with him, wherever they might go, and I get a little break from her. She likes to nap with him, too (I have a hard time napping during the day) and sometimes it's the only way to get her to nap during the day, especially on weekends when everyone else is obviously not taking a nap and doing something fun. Mike gladly wears Mara in his batik print Moby Wrap (it almost looks like camouflage) for her naps at the lake or the zoo, and he even wears her in a backpack style carrier with a shade canopy whenever he mows the lawn! She never refuses her daddy, and he is a cure-all for anything that ails her.

This past weekend I went to an all-day class for foster parents ("Helping Kids Cope with Grief and Loss") and I didn't worry about Mara a bit. When Liam and Seamus were babies I probably wouldn't have even gone to a day-long class-- and if I had, I would have called home to check and see how they were doing every hour on the hour. But with Mara, I knew she was happy with Mike so it didn't even occur to me to call until I was on my way home. She didn't seem to mind being separated from me at all, and maybe even enjoyed the break from me (as I did the time away from ALL of the kids). I've vowed to get more days away like that one, because I think the kids need time with Mike without me around to interfere or make plans for them (and I DEFINITELY need a break from the nonstop work of parenting three busy kiddoes).

I worry so much about what it would be like if Mara was reunified with Linda and would not have a strong father figure in her life. In fact, I worry about how she would most likely have the polar opposite of a strong father figure: an uncommitted, possibly violent man with whom her mother sleeps who may emotionally, physically and/or sexually abuse her. I really try not to think about that too much but it's one of the many cornerstones of a fulfilling family that I know would be sorely missing in that other reality. Perhaps that is why Mara is so fiercely attached to Mike; a positive fatherly relationship is precisely the one she was missing that led to her abuse and coming to live with us. Let's just hope her family stays this way and she gets to be Daddy's Girl for a lifetime. I can live with Mike being wrapped around her littlest finger instead of mine. I'm not even that jealous of their bond. In fact, it makes me love him that much more to see how tender he is with Mara-- how he protects her and wants to give his little princess the very best in life; while she looks up to him with true love in her eyes and probably thinks he could pull a star down out of the night sky for her if she asked for it.

I believe that love and respect from her father is extremely important to the developing self-worth of a girl, and that it is the bedrock for all of her future relationships with men. I pray that, no matter what happens, Mara will always remember what it felt like to be loved and protected by Mike and that she will seek out that out for herself in the future.

Visits Schmisits!

The above artwork was drawn by Liam, age 5. It is a picture of "Us picking up Mara from the hospital and taking her to our house". Our house is the ark-like structure.

So the Case Aide calls us on the 7th and says, "There isn't going to be a visit on the 25th so I have to make it up by having a longer visit, or a couple of them if needed. For the first one, you can choose between the 11th and the 18th."

Then before I can even call her back, she calls again with this message: "The first make-up visit has to be on the 11th so please have The Baby there at 4." ("The Baby" normally naps from 2 to 4 p.m., what about that? Seems like bringing a cranky baby to the visit is a recipe for disaster but we'll play along cuz we have to do so).

I arranged for a sitter (luckily ours wasn't back to school yet) and Mike managed to get out of work early despite the very short notice, while I bent over backwards to get everyone ready and have dinner in the fridge for the sitter to feed the boys.

When we got there, NO ONE else had bothered to show up. The Case Aide finally showed up but said Mom wasn't there yet. TOO BAD! We were there and we were not going to make up time just because everyone else didn't go along with the plan.

A few days later, the Case Aide calls and says we have to do another longer visit on the 18th. I told her Liam doesn't get out of 1st grade until 3:45 so we couldn't possibly get there until 4:30 at best (which is why the visits are scheduled when they are...DUH). She called back and said 4:30 would be fine.

When we arrived this Monday, and called to let her know we were a block away, she sighed loudly and said, "Okay, call me when you get here because I have to bring the older girls down with me to get The Baby, since I can't leave them alone with Mom." I said, "No really, we're only a block away, so if you head downstairs we will be pulling in by the time you get there." Then she was standing in the parking lot by herself, without the girls. I don't know what was up with that and am left to guess that she ended up leaving the girls with Mom after all, even though she isn't supposed to -OR- Mom and/or the other girls weren't even there yet AGAIN (more likely). Plus, she was acting all exasperated as usual. She all-ways looks like she is about to have a breakdown; and this is on Mondays, so I have to wonder how she looks by Fridays?!

Also, even though we had arrived promptly at 4:30 as I had said we would, she said we could pick Mara up at 6:45. That's an extra fifteen minutes-- why? THEN she tells us, "By the way, there IS going to be a visit on the 25th after all, but if you already have made plans and want to tell me that you can't make it, then Mom will just have to deal." AFter the visit, when she's had time to talk to the other foster mom, she says, "Okay, no visit on the 25th so enjoy the night off."

I'm left to wonder if this had anything to do with the Democratic National Connvention being in Denver that week (as she had eluded to earlier) or if it was a personal conflict for which she now no longer needs the evening off. And does she even have the authority to lengthen the visits? They are court-ordered for one and a half hours once a week, so it seems that anything longer or more frequent would have to be court-ordered. But what do I know? I am just a mushroom parent (they keep me in the dark and feed me shit, get it? except it's actually not funny).

Needless to say, it's all very frustrating-- and we are only fostering ONE child. I can't imagine dealing with this runaround with three different visits like some foster families we know. It must be thrice as hectic.

Either way, I look forward to these visits being over. They are yet another reason to foster legal risks kiddoes that nobody wants. Give me a "CHRP Baby" with a cleft palate or Down's Syndrome whose birth mother doesn't want to see her! Bring it!

FEES MARRIED NINE YEARS

My first love...Daddy, then records...one year old...


Daddy & Jessica 2 years old


Daddy, Jessica & Richard in California, 1975



Our anniversary wasn't on August 15th this year. It was on "One month until the Permanency Planning Hearing".

We had an early date, on the Monday of the week of our anniversary, because Mara had a two and a half hour visit (that could be it's own blog post-- I'll title it "Visits Schmisits"). We ate at Outback, and we hadn't eaten there for years-- not since we lived in St. Louis!-- so that was nice. Then we went to the outdoor Stapleton Mall and got dessert at Coldstone Creamery, which we savored in peace (no drips to manage or faces and fingers to wipe except our own!) while walking around. We planned our next dinner date for the Islamorada Fish Company, inside of the ginormous Bass Pro complex (There is a Starbucks in it, too! It's crazy!) and decided to bring the boys to Bass Pro during the next visit. It's getting harder to fill the hour and a half of Mara's visits with something fun to do but we try.

So I figured, we had a nice dinner date for our anniversary, next year we'll do something more extravagant since it will be our 10th. We had talked about asking Jen and Brandon to watch the boys overnight, and putting Mara in respite care so we could get away and stay at a lodge in Manitou Springs or Woodland Park for a night, but when it came down to it it just didn't work out on many levels. I was bummed that we couldn't even go camping that Friday, because all the tent sites at Cherry Creek State Park were all taken. We decided to get Olive Garden to go, and Mike surprised me with tiramisu that I didn't order but relished. Then he gave me a box from Hannoush Jewelers and it was the pendant that he'd had custom made years ago out of my diamond wedding ring, which he FINALLY had a jeweler put on a chain! I couldn't find a chain whose clasp could pass through it so he had to have one taken apart and then put back together. Of course now I have decided that, since I am not working as a Massage Therapist, I want the rock put back into a classic princess setting that I can wear on my ring finger where my wedding ring belongs.

All in all, it was a sweet anniversary. Perhaps not as romantic as others, but still full of love and thoughtfulness. The important thing is that we have endured nine years of matrimony, love grinches and all, and actually want to share more.

Trying on the veil


My big hair for The Big Day


The Just Married Fees in A.P. Green Chapel

Delayed Epiphany

I came to one of those tiny, gigantic realizations this morning: I haven't sat in front of the PC (and the laptop is "in the shop" again) since I was sitting here when my sister called for the third? or was it fourth? time and I finally answered because I reluctantly decided to woman up and face the obvious bad news (or in my dad's words, "not really bad news, just maybe sad news"). It was completely antisocial and dysfunctional, but I hadn't answered the phone all day when I saw that my dad was calling because I pretty much knew why he was calling. My dad rarely uses his cell phone-- he only seems to use it when someone is coming into this world or passing out of it. And mayhaps that is the best use for cell phones? Like that red phone ringing for the president in the movies and SNL skits, my dad calling on his cell phone means it's important. Next time I vow to answer it right away.

Anyway, it probably sounds silly that I avoided the PC because I didn't want to think about stuff but that's just how I operate (or don't). It's part of being a kinesthetic person: the place where I was when I heard Grandpa Farris had died is still haunted, or at least painful, for me to be in. I avoided it so I wouldn't have to sit here and remember the pain and sadness of learning that I didn't get that one last chance to be with him before he left this mortal coil. On one level, I was glad to hear he had finally let go and was out of his physical pain; but at the moment of hearing he was gone, I was completely self-absorbed with my own emotional pain. It was the classic woeful tale of things left undone and unsaid. I didn't get a chance to introduce Mara to him...I didn't get the opportunity to find out how he grew such amazing tomatoes...I didn't get to tape record or videotape him telling some of his stories-- especially the sweet story he had once told me in my dad's kitchen in Parkville: of how he met the grandmother I never knew, Martha Jane Harmon, in Saint Louis when he was in technical school and she was in cosmetology school. We hadn't been to Missouri since January of 2006, driving through an ice storm on the way to and from Sarah and Justin's wedding (which was also when Glory had passed, before we got a chance to get back to MO and see her one last time). We didn't go to MO last year for Thanksgiving or Christmas because Mara was so young and we were still adjusting to the reality of being outnumbered by children. Then, we had planned to go to MO for the 4th of July this year, but instead we had to buy a new oven and fix the a/c in our minivan (twice). No one in their right mind would drive across MO with three kids and no a/c! I made plans for our economic stimulus check and figured he had held on this long and would likely make it to see another Winter. We were planning to go to MO for my birthday weekend at the end of September, when it starts to cool down there, instead of going to Estes Park (a new tradition for our family, for Columbus Day weekend when the aspens are turning and the elk are bugling). I know he had held on so much longer than anyone could have predicted, but somehow even 89 years just wasn't long enough. About a week before he died, I made some photo collages of the boys on a nature walk and had half a dozen of them printed at Walgreen's. I planned to send one to Grandpa, because I knew he was very proud of all his grandchildren and great-grandchildren and he liked to show off pictures of them. Even though it was a small detail, I used it as an example for the boys of why we mustn't put off things we want to do for or say to loved ones. We never know how long we have here (and yes, I do believe that seeing one more photo of his great-grandsons enjoying the outdoors would have made his life richer).

So having said all that, I really don't want to talk about his dying after a long fight with congenital heart disease and a heart plumbed backward! I want to honor the life he lived (and feel moved to begin living life with my own obituary in mind).

William H. (Hank) Farris, Sr. passed away peacefully at home on July 22, 2008 in Gladstone, MO. Born July 8, 1919 to John Respess and Mary Alice Hataway Farris in Elba, Alabama, where he learned farming, which would serve him later. He joined the Navy in 1940 and served in WWII. He survived the sinking of the aircraft carrier USS Wasp in the South Pacific and continued his service aboard two other vessels until discharge in 1946. He went on to schools in Chicago, IL and St. Louis, MO for refrigeration. He met his future wife and mother of his children in St. Louis. They married and lived in Lebanon, MO. They moved to Kansas City, MO in 1953 and later to Gladstone where Hank still lived. He was a member of Pipe Fitter's Local 533 for 30 years. He was a member of Avondale United Methodist Church. Hank enjoyed bowling, square dancing, and was an avid fisherman. His early farming years provided him with a passion for gardening where he earned his reputation as "Tomato King" of Clay County. He is preceded in death by his first wife Martha Jane Harmon Farris, his second wife Glory B. Farris; brothers Chester and Van Farris; sister Reba Jones; and son-in-law Stephan M. Springer. He is survived by his brother Claude Farris of Valley, AL; sisters Katherine and husband Rex Hardy of Fayetteville, GA, Maudye Bedsole and Estelle Simmons both of Columbus, GA; children William H. Farris, Jr. and wife Cheri, Susan J. Farris Springer, Stephen H. Farris and wife Marie; 12 grandchildren and 6 great-grandchildren.

Lately, I have spent a lot of time out front in the place I was obsessively and compulsively creating during Grandpa's last week: a meditation area at the front of the house. I removed layers upon layers of old rotten mulch and filled the front bed with carefully selected river rocks from the back yard. I completed the sitting area with a simple bird bath and a wooden and wicker park bench (which the boys promptly declared was for kids only "because you and dad are too heavy"). It's interesting to note the cycle: as my Grandpa Hank gardened less, I began gardening more. Almost suddenly, I find I'm fascinated with different varieties of native plants and nurturing baby grass in the patchy front yard. Did a part of my grandfather's spirit literally transmigrate into mine? Is this how a genetic legacy is passed from one generation to the next? The boys' first bird feeder, a very nice copper one that can be changed for different types of seed to attract different types of birds, hangs on a shepherd's hook in front of my meditation area as a literal staff for connecting us to Grandpa Hank's hobby of birding.

We've been out of doors almost constantly for the past month, trying to soak up the last sunny and warm days of Summer. I've enjoyed just being a stay at home mom. I don't have any stories of adventurous camping and/or canoe trips, family reunions, fun vacations or summer concerts at Red Rocks to share. All I have to show for this Summer is a funny-looking polka-dotted tan on my feet from my Crocs, and the new meditation area. We did stay overnight at Bear Trap Ranch one last time, as Sarah and Justin are moving back to MO. My mom is there for three weeks so we were able to see her and Papa and celebrate Nana's birthday early with a Southwestern fiesta in the dining hall. We really surprised her with a FIESTA banner and colorful table decorations from U.S. Toy, and she was touched by our gifts and the meal that Chef Liz had planned for her which included cheese enchiladas and Spanish rice! Papa headed back to MO a couple of weekends ago but we got to see Nana again at the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo this past Saturday, when we went for Seamus' "Adoptive Parent Day". The giraffe that Aunt Jen adopted on his behalf for his fourth birthday is Jamili. She is two months old. Her mother is Rihad and her father is Mawimbi. Jamili was born standing at 5'10" and weighing 135 pounds! She was breastfed within an hour of her peaceful birth. We learned many facts about the gestation and lactaction of the reticulated giraffe from a friendly zookeeper (of course, I got it all on video).

Liam starts FIRST GRADE on the 18th! Back to school night was Monday, but after a two and a half hour visit for Mara (to make up in advance for the August 25th visit which will be missed due to the DNC) and a ginormous Gold Coast 'Rita at Outback, I begged out of it. Now I am glad his dad went with him, as they were both excited about what this year has in store for our multi-talented and mega-spirited boy: Art, Drama, Photography, Physical Education and Spanish for starters. He will move from room to room and teacher to teacher for each subject, perfect for his hummingbirdlike nature.

Seamus and water are impossible to keep separate (he is running the hose out back as I type this). He nearly drowned for the second time on our way back from Grandpa's funeral in a hotel swimming pool in Hays, Kansas. We took two days to get home since getting to MO in one day had been so stressful, and even though a severe storm almost kept us from making it to Hays we pretty much had to push through because we had made a reservation at a newly remodeled hotel there. Hays is our halfway point, but we learned our lesson this time about making reservations in advance-- you never know what Kansas will have in store for you, especially during tornado season, so it's best to take your chances and get a room where you end up stopping. After a half day of driving in super humid weather and a severe thunderstorm with very high winds, I was too tired to swim that night but let Mike take the boys with the promise that he would literally have one on each arm (we had forgotten to pack life jackets). They came back alive and we all went to the pool again the next morning when I was rested. The boys were very glad we had forgotten their life vests, but I was a total freak with three kids and only two adults to keep them all from drowning. Luckily Liam swims well, and Mara was happy to be in arms most of the time. But as we were getting out of the pool to leave, Seamus stepped off of the steps and into the pool which was over his head. I turned around to see him under the water but trying hard to get above the surface and I yelled, "Mike! Seamus is drowning!" Mike reached down and hooked Seamus' arm to pull him up out of the water but he was holding Mara so he couldn't get him all the way out of the pool and I was just standing there frozen beside him. Finally, about a second later (that felt like an hour) I got down on my knees, grabbed him with both arms, pulled him out of the pool and sat down on the edge of the pool with him on my lap. I fully expected to have to perform CPR on him. Luckily, he had not swallowed any water as he had been holding his breath. I was beyond grateful that he was okay but also almost paralyzed by the thought of what could have happened. I just don't know why I froze like that and it bothered me (and still does, truth be told). I have been grace under pressure and functioned well in emergency situations since I first became a CNA-- but apparently I cannot think as clearly or act as quickly when the emergency involves my own child. I find this to be a very disturbing paradox! I ought to be even more quick to save the life of my own offspring, right?! Seamus was traumatized by his second near-drowning and talked about it daily, often several times a day, for a week. We finally took him to the (free) pool in our subdivision (with life jacket on) and to the very shallow swimming beach at the lake in Cherry Creek State Park this past weekend (again, with a life jacket) to get him over his fear of getting into water again. I think he finally respects the potential danger of water.

Mara has six teeth, is increasingly affectionate and vocal, and clearly very attached to us all but especially to Mike, which concerns me as the September 15 Permanency Planning hearing approaches. We have a big bash planned for her first birth day: a princess-themed party at the Denver Children's Museum, with admission for thirty family members and friends, pizza and a big fancy princess tiara cake which I shall attempt to bake from scratch using a template from the Family Fun magazine that Mike picked up from a waiting room. Or, I can go across the street to Albertson's and order a half sheet of princess-y cake, a perk of life in the 'burbs.

Mike is being forced out of his current position due to someone who is involved in a harassment case, but he's handling it well and looking on the bright side of it as a change of pace and an end to the frustrating role of Project Manager (waiting for other people to do tasks on a project he wants to wrap up has been hard for him!) He may even get a raise! As gas prices soared, the thought of him using mass transit for his commute (and me having the van so I could go to the museum or a park with the kids rather than play "Water Park" in the back yard again) appealed to me, but he figures his time is worth more than the two hour commute that's involved in taking a bus and train to and fro work.

While the housing market here is slowly but surely recovering, we've been fixing up our home and looking at houses in Elizabeth and Parker, as we are sick of suburbia and especially our litigation-focused HOA. I for one do not like so-called neighbors who walk by our house, give us dirty looks and don't say hi; THEN we received a letter from our HOA saying we needed to "install landscaping"?! Yes, we haven't put any new features in our front yard this year-- we've been busy growing human beings!

We all really want to live in the country, on an acre or two (we've even looked at places with FIVE acres that we could afford when we can sell this one for at least what we owe on it). Maybe we could even get a horse, I pine. Or at least board Nana and Papa's horses when they come through town. We would definitely keep chickens for eggs and perhaps some goats for milk. We wouldn't even mind if every one in town knew all of our our business as our business is pretty much on the up and up!

Well, that there catches you up with The Fee Fam for now. There is always so much more to tell, but never more time to write.