Life in Fitzville

New friends

2012-01-21T20:02:00.001-08:00

We'll start with the biggest story of our year. This is a story that needs to be documented for later years, as it is unique in and of itself, but it also reveals so much about the personality of E.J.

Last March, we headed down to DC to visit Uncle Jim and Aunt Chris. As usual, we made a stop at the zoo, one of our favorite places down there. We always laugh at how our kids are just as excited about the petting zoo type animals (goats, sheep, cows, etc.) as they are about the lions and tigers. This visit, they spent quite a bit of time watching the alpacas. Having spent a month in Peru, Kaleigh was quick to relate her experiences.

Once we got back home, Charlie seemed to have the alpacas stuck in his head. In typical Charlie fashion, he started hyper-focusing and spending huge amounts of time researching alpacas on the internet. It wasn't long before he found alpacas on Craigslist. He mentioned this to brother E.J., who had been saving up money to purchase an ipad at the time. E.J. quickly did the math and realized he could purchase a pair of alpacas for the same price as the ipad.

When he first came to me with this idea, my reaction was the expected "Are you crazy?!?! Don't we have enough live beings around here?!?! Who will take care of them? Where will we put them? What will they eat? Where will they go in the summer?" E.J. calmly listened to me rant and rave, listened to all my questions and then gave me all of his logical, practical, so-very-E.J. answers. Then I pulled out my ace-in-the-hole... "What about your ipad." He quickly and seriously replied that he wanted to do this instead. And this is what stopped me. How many 13 year old boys out there would choose 2 alpacas and all the care that comes with them over an ipad. And how long would he be thinking this way. So to the utter bewilderment of all of our family and friends, I said "Okay then."

Before long the boys were out back converting our old shed into a barn complete with a hayloft. They were building fences and planting pasture grass. They were researching Massachusetts alpaca farms, and talking with camp about bringing the alpacas with us for the summer. This was really happening. And last April, they arrived. Spitfire and Melvin. E.J.'s two new best friends.

Each morning now, I watch as my son bundles himself up for the 6am cold, and trudges outside to break up the ice on their water buckets, give them fresh grain, and spread their bedding hay around. He is out there after school, shoveling frozen manure, and cleaning their barn. He never complains. He never procrastinates. And I never once regret saying "Okay".

Coming back...

2012-01-21T19:32:00.000-08:00

My husband has been reminding me lately that I have not blogged in over a year. So here I am, trying to remember how to even work this thing. I have a new look, let's see if I can find some new words. So much has changed in a year, and so much has not. Life is still as hectic, crazy and fun as it ever was, but I am determined to find some time to write again.

They Believe :)

2010-12-24T19:30:00.000-08:00

It's been months since I have posted. I have almost come to a point of just letting this blog go, but tonight just needed to be preserved somehow.

We were just driving home from our annual Christmas eve family gathering at Fitz's brothers. On our way there, just before we got to their neighborhood, we saw several deer in the road. It was amazing timing, and there was much animated conversation in the back of the van that Santa must be pretty close if he is just letting the reindeer run around the neighborhood!

On the way home, all the kids were chattering away excitedly together. Pipo was especially in a hurry to get back, as he wanted to check Norad, and see where Santa was. He still absolutely, without hesitation, believes. It is amazing to me that it was 5 short years ago that we were celebrating our first Christmas with a new son who was fairly sick, fairly frightened and fairly confused about all these American customs. To say he has adjusted well is a huge understatement. Not to say it was all easy... it wasn't easy by any means. It's amazing to look back over the years and think what we have all been through. But through it all one thing has been constant... the faith and trust Pipo has in everything, especially us. With everything he has been through in his young life... he has always had an amazing inner strength that I envy. He believes that things that will work out, he believes that God will take care of him, he believes that there is good out there, when he has witnessed so much more bad that most adults have.

And tonight, he believes that Santa is out there making people across the world happy. And I find myself watching the skies myself, listening for sleighbells. It's contagious... I believe.

Inside the mind of a 9 year old...

2010-09-16T16:42:00.001-07:00

(all said in one fell swoop, without even a breath in between.)

Emma: “So, we have a game Saturday, it’s far away, but I am not playing goalie. You know, some caterpillars are fuzzy, and some aren’t, but they are all squishy when you run over them with a bike. And by the way... who invented socks?”

That’s how we roll

2010-09-04T17:38:00.000-07:00

Today we spent seven fun-filled hours at Canobie Lake Park, chasing our dare devil children from one ride to the next. Now I like roller coasters as much as the next person, but I must admit my favorite ride came at the end of the night. Reclining in the old leather seat, the heat coming off the floor vents taking off the chill of the night, the hum of the old diesel engine lulling me into pure contentment.

Fitz often laughs about my deep attachment to our old bus. I know it’s silly, but I have many good reasons to be so attached. Whether it’s the crazy story of how we ended up with ‘Old Blue’, the memories of a 12 day trip down to the Outer Banks, the many summers spent at camp, middle of the night thunder storms sending kids scrambling out of tents and onto the bus with us, or the warm Spring night last May after walking all night in the Relay for Life when I climbed onto the bus at 2am exhausted and found eight bodies sprawled in every available space. All these memories have one thing in common though. Togetherness. Nothing brings our family together like that old bus does. There is no better feeling in the world for me than lying awake in the middle of the night listening to all 9 of us breathing in the same space. I know we are all safe, I know we are all happy, I know we are all together.

Tomorrow our oldest, Kaleigh, leaves for college. For me it feels like the beginning of the end of that togetherness. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not sad at all. In fact I am excited for her, excited for all that she is going to be experiencing in the coming years. But I’m realizing that my mother duck days of sitting on my nest full of eggs is coming to an end. We are starting a new chapter here in Fitzville. The first of the Fitzlings is flying the nest. She’s done an amazing job of teaching her younger brothers and sisters to fly, and I know in the coming years we will be watching each of them make their way into the world.

Someday it will just be Fitz and I on that bus. I joke with him about selling the house, and spending our golden years driving around, taking turns parking in each of our kids’ driveways to visit our grandchildren. But I am only half joking. I’ll need that old bus more than ever then... if only for the memories like today, driving home from an amazing family day with 7 kids sleeping behind us.

Memorial Day 2010

2010-06-03T03:16:00.000-07:00

The birthday four through the years... this is the last year that any of them will be in single digits! Hard to believe it was our 13th annual Memorial day bash, and one of the "four" is a teenager!

Finding the words

2010-05-18T15:12:00.001-07:00

I have tried so many times to write this post... only to delete it all when I am done typing. The picture I chose here, out of the hundreds I took, sums up a good part. The resort we stayed at was beautiful. The weather couldn't have been more perfect... gorgeous sunsets every single night. We did amazing fun, cool things every day. It was truly the trip of a life time, the adventure of a lifetime for all 9 of us. It couldn't have been better timing either, with Pipo having a tough winter, and finally reaching an age where he really 'gets' it, he knows this kidney stuff is going to be a lifelong battle. With Kaleigh heading off to school in the fall too, this was a window of opportunity for all 9 of us to have a true family vacation.

We are incredibly thankful for everything Make a Wish did in setting this trip up. Every little detail was accounted for. We had to think about absolutely nothing for the week... it was pure heaven. From the limo service that picked us up, to the reps at American airlines who treated us like royalty, to the luxurious resort that was beyond our wildest imagination. I don't think any of us could have imagined a better trip.

If that was all of it, it would be an easy post to write. I could detail the incredible meals we had, the white sand beach and the beautiful pool just steps from our cottage door. I could talk about how truly relaxed we were for the first time I can remember. But it was so much more than that... so much more than we ever expected.

For this I need to go back 12 years, to when we first moved to this little town. I remember telling Fitz from our very first days here how much I loved it. How for the first time in my life I felt like I was in a place I truly belonged. The longer we live here, the more I love it. Everyone seems to know eachother, and if you don't know someone, you know someone who does. And whether you know them or not, you would drop everything to help them if needed. It's the most amazing sense of community I have ever experienced. And now I have found it again.

As 'Kathleen', who sent us on our snorkeling trip, put it, "Key West might seem like a big town, but if you get rid of the tourists, it's really a small town. Everyone knows each other, everyone takes care of each other." And take care of us they did. Make a Wish had done an incredible job of setting up a trip of a lifetime for Pipo, but once the locals of Key West heard his story, the trip became magical. After hearing that he hadn't really caught much fish our first trip out, people got together and offered two more chartered trips. On one of those trips Pipo caught a 4 foot barracuda and ended up on the front page of the local paper.

This was the biggest magic of the trip, but all of the little things were equally amazing. It was the guys on the boats, yelling good morning to our kids by name as they ran down the docks in the morning. It was the shopkeepers, smiling and sharing their life stories with us, giving the kids little gifts like pirate coins. It was the waitresses at our favorite diner, hugging all the kids goodbye on our last day. It was the owner of our favorite "conch shack" surprising the kids with deep fried oreos one afternoon after lunch. By the end of the week, we felt a part of the place. We had truly been embraced and accepted into this small town. We can't wait to go back someday.

Pictures from our travel day

2010-05-04T06:03:00.000-07:00

Had a hard time uploading the other day, so here are the pictures from Sunday, when we arrived in Key West.... PICTURES

Day 1

2010-05-03T15:12:00.000-07:00

Still having a hard time uploading here, but here is a sideshow of Day 1 in Key west. Check out the pictures here!

Living in a dream

2010-05-03T03:46:00.001-07:00

I don't even know where to begin here. This place is like nothing I could even have dreamed of, and to be here, all nine of us, without a worry in the world... Fitz and I looked at last night and agreed, "we could go home tomorrow, and this still would have been the trip of a lifetime."

Our whole day was incredible, despite the fact that it was mostly spent traveling. From the time the limo service picked us up at 8am, until we were escorted onto this private island... we have been treated like royalty. Our favorite person by far though, was Brian from American airlines. He greeted us as we walked into Logan, and made sure our every need was met. He had already checked us in, took care of our luggage, and then escorted us to the Admirals Club, where he spoiled our kids (especially Pipo) rotten. We had a private board room with a DVD playing on a huge flatscreen, fresh juice and muffins, and he kept bring cups full of candy for the kids to pack in their backpacks. He led us out onto the plane early so the kids could meet the captain in the cockpit, and gave each of the kids wings. When we arrived in Miami, and were looking around trying to find our next gate, Emma looked at me and said "Is Brian only in the Boston airport?" I laughed and said "Yes, there is no Brian here." She looked so sad and said "I miss Brian."

But the real pampering is on this island. It doesn't even seem real. Sunset Key is truly the most tranquil setting you could ever believe. Our guest cottage looks out at the pool. I am having a hard time uploading pictures, so there are not nearly as many as I'd like, but the first shot here is from the pool, looking at our cottage. Yes, that two story building directly behind the gorgeous pool is our home for the week. I keep thinking this is a dream... this must be somebody else's life.

I woke up early this morning and couldn't sleep, so here I sit on the beach trying to get these pictures up. I will try again tonight, and maybe put a slideshow together. But even the pictures won't do it justice. You won't be able to smell the seabreeze, or the tropical flowers every where. You won't hear the excitement when Tommy sees a lizard on our front porch, or Pipo spots a 5 foot Tarpon (really!) swimming under the resort dock. You won't taste the amazing smoothies the girls order to sit by the pool with. You won't hear the utter tranquility... the silence, the water, the birds. You won't feel the complete relaxation that two stressed out parents have been needing for a good number of years. So for now, look at these couple of pictures and try to imagine... and even then, it might not be close.

Pulling close

2010-05-01T02:46:00.001-07:00

Two days ago, Fitz called me with some horrific news. An old student of his... just 18 years old, took his life. This was a beautiful boy, and that is truly an understatement. He was smart, athletic, popular, but so much more than that... kind, and polite, and a role-model for the younger students at Fitz's school. Most people will never know the demons he was battling, and the many, many kids who were affected by this are utterly devastated. I know Fitz and I have had quite a few 'what could we have done' conversations. We both loved this kid, but did we ever truly reach out? I know we are past the why's and what if's, but it's hard to push those thoughts from your head.

Tomorrow morning we leave for Pipo's Make a Wish trip, and suddenly this trip has taken on a whole new meaning. We have never taken a trip like this, and I am not sure we ever would have. We are headed down to Key West, and Pipo is going fishing... his big wish. The kids are beyond excited, and have been counting the days. Fitz and I are both at a point where this break is much, much needed. But at the moment, I am not thinking vacation. I am thinking of pulling close. The last two days I have been looking at each of my 7 kids hard. Wondering if they know how fiercely we love them, how there is nothing that could happen in their lives that would make us turn away from them.

It's interesting to have an older adoptive child, when you have several biological children. With Pipo, teaching him love and trust was such a conscious thing... something we worked on constantly, and still do. In the beginning, he questioned that love daily. He still does occasionally, but for the most part, I am pretty confident that we have shown him he is ours heart and soul. Even at the worst of times, even when he lashed out and fought, we pulled him close and told him he is our son, we love him, we will hold on to him no matter what.

You raise your kids doing all the little things for them day in and day out, and assume they know. You think they know that making a lunch, rushing to catch their soccer game, picking up that last item at the store they need for the project tomorrow... you think they know that this is love. That your world revolves around them, and there is nothing you wouldn't do to make them happy or take away any pain they have. But do they really know?

Tomorrow we leave for 6 days of pure family time. I want to pull all seven kids close, and make sure they know. I want to be their safety net, I want them to know we are always here to fall back on, we will always be here to pick them up.

We will try, we will do our best, but there is a piece of me that thinks about this beautiful boy gone from our lives, and I wonder... can we ever know? I don't think we can, but we can pull close, hold on, and hope that it is enough.

Good Sport

2010-04-05T18:55:00.000-07:00

I haven't been posting very regularly here, and I am wondering if I even have a readership left. If I do, I'd love to ask a favor... The photo above is of my oldest, Kaleigh. She won the 2 mile in her track meet today. It was a momentous win for her. The other girl in the photo is her biggest rival in track. Kaleigh has been running the 2 mile against her since she was in 8th grade. Today, in her senior year... for the first time in 5 years, Kaleigh beat her. In all her years of track, this was the only girl who could ever beat Kaleigh. She was ecstatic after the race!

So here's the favor. Kaleigh is in the running for a $5000 college scholarship. She has officially accepted at UMASS Amherst for the fall. We know she has already received the Adams Scholarship, which is a big help, but every dollar counts here with 6 more to send to school after her. Here's the catch. The initial stage of this scholarship process is voting. The top 15 'vote-getters' from each state will be the finalists. They will then be interviewed by a panel and 3 will be chosen for scholarships. I would love to see Kaleigh be one of the finalists. She is a bubbly, energetic kid with lots to offer. I think she'd do well in the interview. Here is a link. You can vote every day... every vote will help her. And for any help we can get here... thank you very, very much!

Vote for Kaleigh!

And at the end here is a picture of Margaret. This is her first year of track, being just a 7th grader. She ran the 800 today, and did a phenomonal job taking 4th place. For a 7th grader (and a tiny one at that!) running against high school kids, I was so proud of her. It's going to be a great season!

Little boy blues

2010-03-30T12:15:00.000-07:00

Can you see what is clutched in Tommy's sleepy little hand? I have similar pictures from over the years, pictures of a little baby sleeping in a crib with a harmonica tight in his fist, pictures of a toddler dressed for the holidays, the telltale harmonica in hand.

If you looked through my diaper bag from years ago, you would not have found a single pacifier. You would have found a wide variety of harmonicas though. I don't even remember how exactly it started, where that first harp came from.

Tommy had tubes put in and adenoids out when he was a little over a year old. The anesthesiologist laughed when I carried him in. They had told me to bring a comfort object for him to hold as they put him under. All the other moms and babies waiting for similar surgeries had binkies and blankies. Not my boy though... mine had that harp held tightly in his fist.

This, to me, has to be one of the coolest things about parenting a big brood. To see how completely different all their personalities are right from the start. Yes, there are similarities, but it's those little quirks unique to each one that I really, really love.

Luck O' the Irish

2010-03-18T09:43:00.000-07:00

With Saint Patrick's day yesterday, I couldn't help but think of how lucky I am these days. Sure I blew out my knee, but only because I am healthy enough to still be playing soccer at my age with 7 kids at home.

I sat on the couch last night with my leg propped up, and looked around me. Our house was brimming with family and friends, kids ran outside in the unbelievably gorgeous March weather playing hide and seek, teenagers sat talking and laughing in the kitchen, and adults were streaming in and out the door, with offerings of everything from wine to cupcakes.

With me laid up, Fitz was in full charge of our usual Wednesday night meal, and he ditched the spaghetti for the more traditional corned beef and cabbage. It was amazing. Wednesdays here are always amazing, but for different reasons each week. I ran a search for "Wednesday" on my blog, and it was so fun to look back at the special occasions that have fallen on Wednesdays... birthdays, New Years, and now Saint Patrick's day. Wednesdays are always a reminder to Fitz and I of how incredibly lucky we are to have such an amazing support group, but having come home from the hospital just hours before, and having everyone in a celebratory mood just brought the message home that much more clearly.

I am a lucky, lucky woman!

Broken filters

2010-03-17T03:45:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I was lying in pre-op waiting for my knee surgery when the nurse came in to set up my IV. She started in with casual chit-chat, I'm sure to relax me... and the inevitable family questions came up. When she found out I had 7 kids, she asked the dreaded, most ill-worded question... "Are they all real, you know by blood?"

Now my parents raised me to be polite, so I went with the polite answer, but what I really wanted to say was "Well, I'm pretty positive they are all real, and they definitely all bleed. I know because I have take every one of them in for stitches at one point or another, held their hand, let them know I was there for them... because you know, that's what real moms do."

When my polite answer mentioned we had adopted our last one, she then said "Oh, now isn't that nice. What possessed you to do that, when you already had 6 kids?"

Again, I went with the polite answer, but in my head I was saying, "well, actually God possessed me... you see he's this really cool guy who knows what's best for my family, unlike perfect strangers who don't know me or my kids."

And then the inevitible next comment. "Well, you must have a really big house then." And the answer in my head, "Why, yes! Because how could a child possibly grow up happy without a huge house, their own room and lots and lots of toys to play with? A mom and dad who love them are secondary, right?"

Now seriously, I answered each question politely, and we ended up having a nice conversation in which I hope she learned a bit. But it always amazes me the things that come out of people's mouths. Those old brain filters are clogged I guess.

Forced retirement

2010-02-12T05:39:00.001-08:00

Last month was long and busy. We are still trying to do what we can to help Haiti. Pipo ended up raising over $150 and was able to personally deliver it to the Saint Boniface office. I think it went a long way in helping him deal with all this.

Kaleigh turned 18 this past weekend, which is very hard for me to believe. Fitz put together a great slideshow which I will try to post here as well.

I have been playing indoor soccer at the same place, with basically the same group of guys for about 10 years now. It has been my one escape. My one "me" time. Now that Kaleigh is 18, she had signed up with me, and I have been so excited to be able to share this with her, and get a little one on one time before she heads off to school next year. But this past Tuesday at soccer, I went a little too hard, turned a little too fast and blew out my knee. I knew as I went down that this was bad, I felt and heard the pop, and had pain worse than anything I have ever felt in my life. (including giving birth to 9.14lb Tommy, drug free)

I have never in my life been injured to the point of needing to go to the hospital. Never anything that the school trainer couldn't fix in college, never anything that I couldn't limp through, wrap up and play through, forget about and get on with my busy life. The only time I have been in the hospital was to give birth. And even then, I was always up and out the next day, often going places and doing things before the baby was 2 days old. I have never been incapacitated.

I am finding out very quickly that I am terrible at this. If it had been my left leg, I think I could handle it, but it's my right. My driving leg. I knew I drove a lot, but I don't think I ever realized just how much. Not being able to just run to the store when I need to is a pain. But trying to organize a life with 7 kids is ridiculously hard. Fitz has been great, but I know it is wearing on him. I'm also thankful for the awesome small town where we live , where everyone has been offering to help. It's just that accepting help has never been a strong point of mine. I've always been the one who can just take care of it all myself. Sitting here unable to do a thing is incredibly humbling.

I keep thinking maybe the doctor is wrong. Maybe it's just a little sprain, and I will be back on it in a day or two. Like a toothache that you can't stop touching with your tongue, I keep testing my leg, putting a little weight on it, trying to not use the crutches. It only takes a few seconds of this to realize I am an idiot, this pain is not going away, this is not a quick fix. For the first time in my life, I am realizing I am not indestructible. And that realization is even more painful than the knee.

Please don't forget

2010-01-22T17:42:00.000-08:00

Four years ago a little boy was in Haiti fighting for his life. With the help from Senator Kennedy, we were able to bring him here in a hurry for proper medical care. Today that boy carried a coin jar all around school, raising money for the many other young kids in Haiti who are fighting for life. He has raised over $75. Please don't forget. As time goes on, and it falls to the background of the news stories... please don't forget.

Haiti and animals.

2010-01-19T06:11:00.000-08:00

It shouldn't be a surprise that the earthquake is the only thing on my mind right now. We have Pipo's best friend from Haiti staying with us at the moment, while his mom flies down to Florida to pick up some evacuated family members. Along with the friend is his brand new puppy, who is proving to be a great distraction for all our kids.

I forgot how much fun (and how much work) having a puppy in the house can be. Brings me back to our first days with Maizy.

The shelter we picked Maizy up at has a facebook site. It's a great shelter, and they do some wonderful things. But the last few days they have been posting regular announcements about "The International Fund for Animal Welfare (IFAW) and the World Society for the Protection of Animals (WSPA) banding together to save all the poor animals".

I know I am going to risk flaming comments from PETA activists here, but This has made me more angry than I have been in a long time. I am an animal lover, no question. But we are talking about a disaster of tremedous proportions here... a place where hundreds of thousands of people are dead... and just as many are wounded, trapped, missing. Food, water, medical supplies... they are all dwindling. Even the areas not structurally damaged by this earthquake will be affected severely by the dwindling supplies. Any aid that is sent to Haiti, in the form of food, drinking water or medical supplies needs to go towards HUMANS. Any aid being given to animals is aid being taken away from people who desperately need it. I can understant trying to save livestock, to help with the diminishing food supply, but stray cats and dogs should not be helped. This is not cruelty... this is reality.

The article from the website mentions "untold numbers of companion animals". Haiti is not a place where people have lots of pets. Haiti is a place where many people cannot afford to feed their own children. The thought of feeding stray dogs is preposterous.

Again, I do love animals. This is a matter of priorities though. Human life should always be put first. We will continue our prayers here in Fitzville, and hope that as much aid as possible can be sent from everywhere across the world to help the PEOPLE of Haiti in this horrific time.

No words.

2010-01-16T03:36:00.000-08:00

Last night Pipo came home from school and went straight up to his room. Not like him at all, especially since it was dinner time. Fitz followed him up and said he had been crying, and turned the light off and pulled the covers over his head. We let him stay there for a while, knowing he needed the space, but I went up close to bedtime, and woke him to take his medicine. He came down with me to have the plate of food Fitz saved for him, but was still very quiet. He just looks broken.

We have always planned to take Pipo back to Haiti to visit his grandmother, and we will eventually. But we won't be taking him back to the Haiti he remembers. The picture above is of Pipo pre-sickness. He didn't have much, and often didn't know when the next meal was coming, but he had a grandmother who loved him and took care of him. I love the little smile on his face. He looks so hopeful, like he knows things are going to be okay. I would and will do anything to bring that smile back.

But what do I do, what do I say? As much as we try to filter the information he sees and hears, it's impossible. He knows now that Haiti will never be the same. He knows that his village did not have much structural damage, and that the hospital where he spent most of his young life is still standing. He even knows his grandmother was not hurt. But he is old enough, wise enough from his younger years of surviving in such a place, that he knows much of Haiti revolves around Port au Prince. He knows that that is where the medical supplies come from. He knows that the times he was very, very sick, it was PaP that our friend Conor would have to rush to to get him life saving meds. He knows that much of the food supplies came from PaP. And what is left of PaP now?

Charlie, probably my most sensitive kid, and the one who idolizes his oldest brother, announcing from his first days home that we were now a "Irish/Haitian" family, was up very early today, telling me he had a nightmare that the world was being destroyed. What can you say to that?

One of the things that Fitz and I have always prided ourselves on is that we are raising happy kids. Not that we have completely sheltered them, they know that there are many places in the world who have it hard. But they all have an incredible optimism about them, a sense that whatever is wrong in the world, we can all fix together someday. I have vivid memories of The kids selling Sunflowers on the corner downtown to raise funds after hurricane Katrina. They knew it was bad down there, but they had the utter faith of childhood that we could rebuild.

I want them to keep this optimism, I want to them to always think they can help make it okay. But this is so, so hard right now. We will do everything we can to help, but with every news report, every phone call or email asking about Pipo, a piece of me dies. The look in my sons eyes last night came very close to putting me over the edge. We all want to 'make it all better for our kids'. But how do I do this? What do I tell him?

Today

2010-01-13T04:27:00.000-08:00

It's Pipo's birthday today. It's also Wednesday which means it's a regular party day anyway, with people coming over for spaghetti and meatballs tonight. It's a time to celebrate.

I am not feeling too celebratory though. I always find myself thinking of Pipo's family in Haiti on his birthday. I think of these birthdays, and so many other moments his mother has missed, dying so young. I think of his Grandmother, wonder if she remembers it is his birthday. I know she misses him, but is happy he is here and healthy. I think of the rest of his family, scattered after the death of his mother, and wonder if they remember their little brother, so sick while he was in Haiti.

Today I think of everyone in Haiti. My heart breaks at every new news report I see. We have emailed our good friend Conor, who brought Pipo here to us. We haven't heard from him, and I know if he is okay, he is doing everything in his power to make sure others are okay too. I read that the St. Joseph's boys home collapsed, and I think of Sony, the beautiful boy we met at Fenn who came with his dance troupe. I think of the hospice nurse who worked with my mother in law in her last days... telling me so proudly of her daugher, a nurse still in Haiti, and her sons, still living in PaP. Haiti is the poorest country in the Western hemisphere, and this devastation will break many that were already so broken. This is one of those "why" moments. I just can't fathom why these beautiful people, who already suffer so much, are suffering even more now.

Again, I ask you... please pray.

Haiti

2010-01-12T17:08:00.000-08:00

Please pray. I know Pipo's grandmother is far from PaP, but his extended family is in PaP, and Our very good friend travels often to PaP. This is the poorest country in the western hemisphere, and now they are suffering tenfold from the devastation of this earthquake... again, please pray.

Day of (W)rest(ling)

2010-01-10T16:50:00.000-08:00

*WARNING: Blatant and indulgent mom bragging ahead

Pipo and E.J. were off to an all day wrestling tournament today... a first for E.J. I will fully admit, I have become a total wrestling mom. I love it, I love to watch my boys, I watch now to scout out the 'good' wrestlers from tourneys we've been too, I slap my sons on the back and make comments about what a 'great half nelson they pulled, and 'to remember not to reach back.' I am thinking maybe I need intervention.

E.J. was pretty nervous going into his first ever tournament, but came out strong, dominating his first match.

His second match led to his first bloody nose. It took a good 10 minutes of clean up time to clean up the fair amount of blood he got on himself, his opponent and the mat. He was losing 9-2 at this point, and after getting cleaned up and noticing the score board, he came out with fire in his eyes and came back to win 13-12.

Pipo wrestled hard, but he was accidently placed in the top division and was wrestling some of the best kids in his weight class... most of whom had been wrestling 5+ years as opposed to Pipo's 1 year of experience. He got pretty discouraged during the day, but picked his head up, and kept going out on the mat for more.

Despite the difference in experience between him and his opponents, he was able to throw a few moves in there.

E.J. finished off his day with an impressive pin...

Which earned him a gold medal! Good day overall!

Home is where the food is...

2010-01-09T19:04:00.001-08:00

Been slacking on the blog as of late, but not for lack of writing material. We had an amazing week down in D.C. with superhero Aunt and Uncle, Chris and Jim. Every time we visit we are reminded of why we love it there. It is such a fun, kid friendly place, and so great for big families. This is the second trip where the kids have declared that their favorite spot, hands down, is the Navy museum. So many cool things to see and do there, and it is never crowded.

While on this trip, Pipo was having a little difficulty... mainly a poor attitude and being generally grumpy and not at gracious as we would expect of him (or any fitzkids). Later, after we were able to talk it out with him, and when Fitz and I talked about it ourselves later, we realized it mostly came back to an age old issue... hunger.

I have written about hunger before, and the huge impact it has on Pipo. I know that it is a big issue for him, and we are usually pretty good about catching it and addressing it, but sometimes it still catches us off guard. Traveling can be tough for him, because he doesn't have the same food routine. We may know (and even tell him!) that there are hot dog vendors every 20 yards or so in D.C., but it isn't the same as being home with the knowledge that food is just a few steps away.

The boys have their first wrestling tournament of the season tomorrow (E.J.'s first tourney!), and at practice, the coaches emphasized what a long day it will be, discouraging newer boys to jump in quickly. I know both boys are ready though, and planned on going. Pipo said offhandedly a few times that he didn't want to go. I ignored him, because he wasn't being overly vocal, and because he can be negative at times when he is unsure of the outcome of a situation. I know he is ready, and he will probably do very well at the tournament. But I thought more about it this weekend, and it dawned on me that there might be another reason for his hesitancy. I asked him if he was worried about getting hungry being gone all day at the tourney. He quietly admitted this was the case. I asked him if he would like to go to the store today and pick out a few of his favorite snacks to pack up and bring with him. What a difference. He is a new boy, excited as can be about the tournament.

Another reminder of how deep hunger runs. I know in my heart now that this is a hurt he will never get past. He will find ways to cope, find ways to deal with it, and we will help him in every way we can. But that fear will always be there somewhere, the fear that someday there won't be enough to eat.

Merry Christmas

2009-12-24T19:30:00.001-08:00

These few moments have to be one of my very favorite times ever. The kids just put on their new flannel PJs, Fitz checked Norad with them, and they ran up to bed after seeing how close to the East Coast he is getting. Now we sit here in silence, just enjoying the lights from the tree and the few moments of peace while we wait to make sure the kids are asleep. We'll head to bed ourselves after we get all the presents laid out and stuff the stockings, but for now... this is bliss. I am feeling completely blessed at this moment. No wonder 'bliss' and 'bless' are so closely spelled!

Music, revisited

2009-12-18T16:42:00.000-08:00

Remember this guy? When I wrote that post, we thought we were saying goodbye to Michael for the summer, but life (and bills) got ahold of us, and we weren't able to work Michael back in. But as of last week, he's back. Tonight, I had to run out to bring Charlie to his hip hop class (whole 'nother story, whole 'nother time!) and left before Michael arrived. When I got back, there was a full on jam session in the family room, with Michael on the guitar, E.J. on the banjo, and Pipo on the drum. Last week, he worked for quite a while on the piano with Emma, and she has been practicing relentlessly all week.

With a musician Dad, and a roomful of instruments, we aren't usually lacking for music here. But sometimes, it's easy to take it all from granted. Sometimes it's easier to leave teh guitars hanging on the wall and watch a dumb movie. That's where Michael comes in. He lights a fire under our kids like nothing I've ever seen. He makes them love music, and want to get better for the love of it, and for the fun of it.

The other night, I was cleaning up after dinner and getting the table cleared to make gingerbread houses. All of a sudden I stopped in my tracks. All 7 kids, hanging out in the family room waiting for me, had started playing Feliz Navidad on various instruments together. It was hilarious, and they were having a blast. This is why we have to make an effort to keep Michael a part of our lives.

4 Years ago...

2009-12-16T20:13:00.000-08:00

4 years ago tonight, I sat here in the quiet living room with kids sprawled sleeping all around me. They had made a valiant attempt to stay up and meet their new brother for the first time. Fitz had met Pipo at the airport, coming in off a late flight, and drove him home in the newly fallen 18 inches of snow. It was the first snow Pipo had ever seen. He was up bright and early the next morning putting his new orange parka on over his pajamas and begging to go touch the snow. I couldn't get over the enormous smile on this sick, scared little boy.

It's 4 years later, and there isn't close to 18 inches of snow on the ground yet here, but what little we have still brings out the same enormous smile. A lot has changed in 4 years... I'm glad that smile hasn't.

Hassle chores

2009-12-15T15:20:00.000-08:00

This morning was like any other crazy morning here in Fitzville. Fitz rounded the older 3 boys up to head to school, Kaleigh made her way off, and I was trying to get Tommy and Emma ready to drop them off and then run Margaret over to the orthodontist. Minutes before we left the phone rang. It was E.J. telling me he had forgotten his big project he had been working on for days... a project that was due today, and could I please come bring it to school for him. Sure, no problem... fit that right into the other 100 things I was trying to get done today.

The beauty of this phone call is that E.J. knew my policy when he called. It's a brilliant idea, given to me by a cyber friend years back, and which I have not only used in my own house, but passed on to many, many friends in town, so that their children could hate me. And now I am taking it to the cyber world, so that children nationwide can hate me. 'Cause I'm an overachiever like that.

The policy is hassle chores. Very simply... if you call to ask me to do you a favor that is above and beyond the call of mom duty, a favor that is truly a hassle for me... then you will in turn owe me a "hassle chore". These are chores that moms get stuck with. Thinks like cleaning out the van, or sorting laundry, or organizing a closet.

The greatest thing about hassle chores is not getting an annoying task out of the way, but that the kid learns quickly not to forget soccercleats/books/lunch money etc. And as an added bonus, they learn to think hard before they make that call... is this call really necessary, is it worth a hassle chore?

And as much as my kids hate this policy, I would bet money that someday my grandkids will also do hassle chores. Maybe not right away, but after mom or dad has to drop everything they are doing to run to school with that shoebox and playdough diorama.

Corrected...

2009-12-14T20:19:00.000-08:00

Last night the windshield wipers stopped working, and it was lightly raining. Margaret asked how Fitz could see, and he replied "I can't... I'm like a bat."

Charlie immediately corrected him... "Oh, you mean you have echolocation... but that wouldn't work in the car, because it would bounce right back at you off the windshield."

Sheesh... my kids have no imagination.

He's 7

2009-12-05T19:56:00.001-08:00

There's something about the youngest child's birthday that makes it seem that time is moving at lightspeed. Tommy was way more excited to turn 7 today than I was. I would be very happy to freeze him right now. How much longer do I have of him still reaching for my hand when we are walking? Of him climbing into bed with us in the middle of the night? Of him curling on my lap when the movie gets too scary. Not many more of these moments I am guessing. I will take them for as long as I get them.

Head count

2009-12-03T04:31:00.000-08:00

Can you count all 7 Fitz kids in the tree? Click to enlarge and make it easier. I can find them all. I can find them with my eyes closed. I spend a good portion of my life doing head counts wherever we go. So it pains me to think that next year I will be coming up one short with each count.

I have always had a hard time with any of the kids being away for any length of time, so it is unfathomable to me that Kaleigh will be going off to college next year... away for months at a time. She is looking fairly locally... but still. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to counting 6 instead of 7.

Last night was the high school sports banquet. Being a tiny high school of only about 300 kids, we have one awards night for all the teams together. Kaleigh was announced as the “unsung hero” of the soccer team. I wasn’t surprised to hear the way her coach described her. He said that she gave her heart and soul out there for ever single game. I wasn’t surprised at all. Kaleigh gives her heart and soul to everything she does.

One of the schools that Kaleigh recently applied to requested a parent letter, describing important qualities you felt your son/daughter has. The first word that came to my mind was passion. From the time Kaleigh was tiny, everything she did she did with passion and she continues it to this day. Whether it is school work, on the sports field or sitting with her guitar in hand, she puts everything she’s got into it.

She will be a huge asset to any school that akes her next year, but she will leave a big hole in this home while she is away.

Wishing...

2009-11-30T16:17:00.000-08:00

The phone rang earlier today, and the woman on the other end told me she was from the "Make a Wish" foundation. I was silent for a minute, and she had to repeat herself. Kaleigh sent in an application for Pipo sometime last Spring, and I hadn't given it much thought then. We had gotten a brief phone call saying they had received the application, and that they would have to verify with Pipo's doctor and then get back to us. At the time, Pipo was doing well and I thought this program was meant more for kids who were terminally ill.

Today, I was told that Pipo is being granted a wish... that they will assign two volunteers to come to our house and try to make that wish come true. I was stunned enough, silent enough that the woman told me she would let me think about it, and call next week to set up an appointment. I told her that would be fine, and hung up the phone and was silent again. It wasn't until about 10 minutes later that I burst into tears.

I've written before about the reality checks we've had in the past regarding Pipo's FSGS. It is so easy to get lulled into thinking the disease isn't there. Since last December, Pipo has been relapsing regularly. Not bad relapses... we have caught it quickly each time, adjusted his meds and pulled him out of it. In the back of my head, I knew the frequent relapses weren't good. I had spoken with his doctor at the end of the summer about his current immunosuppressant having run it's course. I was afraid it wasn't working and that we would need to look for something else.

This last hospitalization was the biggest reality check yet. People have been constantly asking how Pipo is, ever since we got home. And I tell them he's fine... it's part of our life, just a small stumbling block. That's true for the most part. Fitz and I have talked about how hard it would be to have a healthy child and suddenly get an FSGS diagnosis, how hard that would be. We've talked about how in a way, the FSGS is almost a good thing... it's how we found out about Pipo, it's why he is here today. Without the FSGS I don't know if we would have this funny, loud, exuberant, smart, brave son. But none of this changes the reality. FSGS sucks. It's totally unfair that he has to check his urine every morning, that he has to swallow handfuls of pills twice a day, that he has to have blood drawn regularly and stay in the hospital sometimes. I know things could be worse, I know other kids who go into renal failure, need transplants. But it's is still so unfair to be a kid and have to put up with all that.

And this is where the tears came from today. We tell everyone everything is fine... that he is doing well. And he is. We tell ourselves it could be worse. And it could. But someone is here, acknowledging that it still is so unfair, and they want to do something for him to make up for that unfairness. I wish I could grant every wish for my son. I am so incredibly thankful that he will now have one granted.

Sibling bond

2009-11-17T17:15:00.000-08:00

One of the toughest thing with older child adoption in a large family has got to be that expectation you get that this child will quickly develop a loving bond with a big group of strangers. I knew this was unrealistic, and we had tried to prepare ourselves for issues. Pipo immediately hit it off with Margaret, who he started school with, he worshipped big sister Kaleigh, and adored Tommy and Emma who were still little at that point in time. We expected issues between he and E.J. as he was replacing his new brother as the oldest boy in the house. With time and patience, we worked through that one, and they quickly became best buds.

The hardest relationship of all, though, was that between Pipo and Charlie. I have a bit of a soft spot for Charlie, and couldn't imagine anyone not loving him. He's a sensitive little marshmallow of a kid, and sees the good in everyone, which makes him particularly vulnerable. So it broke my heart to hear Pipo tell him he "didn't like him", and that he "wasn't his real brother." Charlie looked up to Pipo so much, and desperately wanted Pipo to like him. We had many conversations with Pipo, many firm sit-downs, where we told him he had to be nice. Nothing seemed to get through to him.

I had to step back at one point and really look at it all from a distance. I realized then that to someone new in our house, I could see how Charlie could be annoying. Especially when he was trying so, so so hard to get Pipo to notice him. The other kids have all grown up with Charlie. They 'get' him. They know that he gets revved up easily, and that he can't always help it. If they are all riled up playing a game, the others can 'turn it off' and walk away, but Charlie can't always do that so easily... just the nature of ADHD. He has a harder time finding his "off" button. Pipo had not grown up with this. All he knew is that this little kid was following him everywhere, talking a mile a minute and constantly touching him.

I sat Pipo down at one point and just laid it on the line for him. I explained ADHD as best as I could, telling him that it was a bit like his kidney disease, that Charlie was born that way and couldn't help it. That we all worked together to help him overcome it, and that Pipo would have to help too, because that's what we do in a family. It took some time, and more conversations like this, but it slowly started to sink in.

Little by little, Pipo started to realize how much he and Charlie have in common. He saw how great Charlie's sense of humor was, and how funny he could be. We started to notice them hanging out a little more, doing things together here and there. I celebrated each small moment I saw.

Time has passed since then, and it's easy to forget that there was ever an issue between the two. But every once in a while, something reminds me, and it makes me melt to see how close they are now. Tonight, we all sat down to grace before dinner... the first dinner we've shared since Pipo went into the hospital last week. As we finished grace, Charlie piped up with "and thank you God, that Pipo is back home with us." I glanced down at Pipo and saw the grin on his face. After dinner, I went downstairs to throw a load of laundry in, and saw the two of them curled up together, sharing a beanbag and watching a movie. The bond may have taken time, taken work, but it's there in full force. They are 'real' brothers... no blood required.

The answer my friend...

2009-11-15T04:22:00.000-08:00

Pipo and I have been cooped up in a hospital room in Boston for a few days now. His kidney disease has relapsed, and he needed some IV fluids to get him back on par. He is doing well, but bored and awfully tired of hospital food and diet restrictions.

Last night, I had left my phone out in the van to recharge, as the battery was dying. I went out to the garage to retrieve it, not realizing it was almost 10pm by then. Almost realizing that the hospital practically goes into lockdown at that time of night. I could not get back into the building. I wasnt worried at first, figuring I could find someone on security to let me in. But I couldnt find anyone, and then I got lost, as this hospital has multiple buildings on both sides of the street that are connected.

My saving grace turned out to be Bob Dylan. Turns out he was doing a show right around the corner, and it was letting out just around the same time. At first I was a little thrown by the sudden hoards of people sharing the sidewalks with me... an incredibly eclectic group with a broad age range. I was on my cell phone with Fitz, who told me about the concert. I relaxed instantly, knowing that if these were all Dylan fans, they were bound to help me!

Sure enough, everyone I asked was more than understanding and helpful, and I was soon directed into the right part of the building to get back in.

So thanks Bob... “On a night like this, I‘m glad you came around.“

Cartwheel boy, revisited - an in depth look at ADHD

2009-11-10T13:50:00.000-08:00

A couple of things lately have spurred on this post. One is that I recently commented to Fitz that Charlie seemed to have grown out of his cartwheel phase. Fitz quickly informed me that the cartwheels are alive and well at school. Charlie started at Fitz's school this year, which is a campus rather than one building. There is some moving around from classes, and apparently Charlie takes full advantage of this to get the cartwheels out of his system. I think we don't see them at home so much because he has the trampoline now to let out that excess energy.

The other thing was the recent progress letter from Charlie's teacher. It was glowing, but it did mention his distractibility, and lack of focus at times. I love his teacher, and it sounds like Charlie is having a great year so far, but this was that reminder that the ADHD is alive and well.

I have mentioned ADHD on here in the past, but never spoken in depth about it. This post may end up way longer than you would like :)

Charlie was not quite 2 when we were first made aware of his attentional issues. Yes, that's right... not quite 2. He had had some hearing/ear issues and we were having him evaluated by Early Intervention for speech. He ended up not qualifying for speech, but they told us they were concerned with his attentional issues, and we were given an educator 3 days a week at our house to work with him.

I was shocked to say the least. Pre-kids, I was (am) a special educator who worked primarily with ADHD kids. But these were school aged kids. I had never known of this being picked up so early, and I never would have seen it in my son at that age. Sure he was a busy active (okay, crazy!) toddler, but aren't most little boys? But I will tell you this... years after this, I can say that it was the best thing that ever happened to Charlie. I don't think he will ever need meds, and he is forever coming up with new coping strategies just like that long ago teacher taught him to.

When I was teaching, I often encountered regular ed. teachers who were frustrated by the active kids in their class, and at a loss of how to handle them. I came up with an easy layman's explanation that seemed to help. It goes like this...

Everyone has filters in their brain... filters coming in and filters going out. As you read this, you might hear a television in the background, kids running around, the washer running, and that’s just the auditory stimulation. But we filter all this out so that we can concentrate on the task at hand. For ADD and ADHD kids, this is often much harder. All that excess noise may be coming in at the same level. I once had a student describe it to me like this... you are in the TV department at sears, with 20 screens on the wall, but they are all on different stations, all equally entertaining. Its a big effort to focus in on the right one.

Those are the filters for things coming in. There are filters for things coming out too. If I was talking to you about this, you might be thinking, "this is a load of crock" or "who the heck is this lady" but the filters in your brain would keep you from saying something inappropriate. All kids are impulsive at heart, but the truly ADHD kids have a hard time filtering those impulses.

This is not to say that it's impossible. It's just something they have to consciously work at, something that comes much easier to most kids. One myth that drives me crazy is that ADHD are "bad" kids. People are always shocked when they find out Charlie is ADHD. Some people even question the diagnosis. "But he's so good, so well behaved," they say. And he is. He is a great kid with a great heart, but he works very hard at this. And the impulsivity still comes into play (especially at home with siblings!)

He holds it together well in school. He comes home with a lot of pent up energy. He'll go immediately to the trampoline and let out some steam, and sometimes he'll ask to take a shower in the middle of the day. He's learned that the enclosed shower stall, the white noise of the water, and the pressure on his head, all help him to pull it back together.

There are no showers in the classroom however. And sometimes, when the stimulation in the room gets to be too much, he may get caught looking out the window, at the fields, and the wide blue sky, because there are less distractions out there.

He is our dreamer, our thinker, our crazy cartwheel boy, and I wouldn't have him any other way.

Happy Halloween!

2009-10-31T05:00:00.001-07:00

It's the little things...

2009-10-28T12:39:00.000-07:00

It 's been a long hard fall, but we are hanging in there. Fitz has reminded me daily that I have not written on this blog in quite a while. I can use the excuse of being busy... an all too real excuse lately, but the reality is, I just haven't had the emotional energy. Beyond being physically drained, my brain has just been trying to process the last month or so. Nothing bad, just life. I like to remind him that he has not been the most prolific of bloggers either, but he beat me to it and posted the eulogy he wrote for his mum. A beautiful read, I must say.

This fall has reminded me once again what an incredibly supportive group of friends we have. With all that we went through, people were constantly doing many, many little things to make our life easier. The wake for my mother in law was scheduled from 4-8pm. A very long stretch of time for a group of young kids. Rob, a good friend and fellow teacher of Fitz's, stopped by early on. He lives very close to the funeral home, and offered to take whichever of our kids wanted to walk his new puppy and go back to his house for pizza. A small offering in his eyes, but a huge help in ours.

It had me thinking on the way home of how many times people reach out to us, quietly, simply, and without reservation. It's Wednesday, our normal spaghetti night, which we kept up right through the midst of all this. I've written about Wednesdays, and how much I love them. We tell people they don't need to bring a thing, but people almost always drop by with a bottle of wine, a loaf of garlic bread, or a dessert. Our friend Tom though, almost always shows up with a gallon of milk. Sometimes he even has a loaf of bread and a dozen eggs. He never says a word, just quietly puts the milk in the fridge. He knows we are feeding an army every day, and that gallon of milk, a small offering on his part, is another huge gift to us.

Our friend Drew will most likely make an appearance tonight as well. At our last Memorial day party, there was a small crew of us sitting by the fire late night. Fitz and I laughed that this was the first year we were both working the next day, and the mess would have to wait. I came home the next day and stood speechless in our backyard. It was completely cleaned up. Bottles recycled, trash bagged, platters and dishes stacked on the picnic table. I found out a few days later that Drew had stopped by. He was free the next day, and knew how tired we would be. This was no small thing, although Drew tried to tell us it was no big deal.

I could write for pages about the small things people have done in the last couple of months. The rides people gave our kids to soccer practices, the meals friends dropped over, the outings people picked up our kids for, the list could go on and on. If anything at all has come out of this for me, it's that I am reminded to do the little things. To hold the door for the woman with the double stroller at the store, to let the car out in front of me that has been waiting for a while, To pick up the neighbors trash barrels that have blown over in the wind. Each might not feel like a big thing, but I personally know that those little things can be big to the recipient. I am incredibly thankful to all those amazing people in our life who do these little things.

Gramma Mary

2009-09-29T16:51:00.000-07:00

We lost Fitz's mom this morning. These last few weeks have been amazing for me to witness. Her children gathered around her, holding her hand, loving her to the end. She had always been an inspiration to me... raising 6 kids to be such great, close adults. Not a day goes by that Fitz doesn't talk with at least one of his siblings.

The last few years we had been losing her slowly to Alzheimers. The last year or so, it was very hard for her to remember people. What amazed me though, is that each time we went to visit with the kids, she would need help and ask the names of the kids, but when it came to Pipo, she never forgot. She would proudly introduce him as her grandson from Haiti to anyone nearby.

Today, as we went through her things, my sister in law found a 'memory notebook' she had started for her in the early stages... when her memory was just starting to fade. The idea was that she would keep it close by, and jot down notes each day of things she wanted to remember. She didn't love the idea though, and had made only one entry on one day. My sister in law looked at it, and promptly gave it to me saying that I should save it. I looked at the entry. After a couple of sentences of everyday errands she needed to do, there was this sentence... "John picks Philippe up tonight at Logan."

She accepted Pipo from the start, just as excited for our new son as she was with each baby I gave birth to. But to see this line there... to know it was something important enough for her to jot down... I just had no words.

Fitz met with his siblings this afternoon to discuss all the arrangements. He called me at one point to get an address from me. The address for Saint Boniface Haiti Foundation . He and his siblings decided to have donations in memory of his mother sent to Saint Boniface, in honor of their bringing Pipo into our family. I couldn't be more grateful.

Where are the parents?

2009-09-21T10:19:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, Fitz played at an outdoor festival. It was a gorgeous day, and the band was set up in a gazebo at the bottom of a large, sloping field surrounded by orchards. At one point in their set, I noticed a good number of small children climbing up into and around the gazebo, poking at, picking up and playing with anything within their reach. The harmonica player had a case of all of his harps set open in front of him... so that he could switch to different keys as needed. Some of these kids were actually grabbing spare harmonicas and playing them. Kids hanging on the side of the gazebo were jumping down and grabbing the sound system to get their balance. Running across in front of the musicians, they would occasionally knock a mike stand off kilter, requiring Fitz to adjust it in mid-song.

This wasn't new or unusual unfortunately. Whenever he does a family show where there are a lot of kids, there is always the stray kid 'getting into things'. But it does seem to be getting worse. A lot of the time, the parents are there, they are just to caught up in their own things to be paying attention to their children. But many times, the parents see this behavior and let it continue. They think their kids are just "so cute" and isn't it great that they "aren't shy at all". "Look at little Sammy... getting right up on stage!"

Trust me, it's not cute. It's not cute at all to see small children playing around with very expensive equipment. My guess is some of these parents think it's a family friendly show, and after all... the musicians aren't complaining or saying anything. The musicians are working. They can't very well stop the show to discipline someone else's kid. They also want to get booked for more shows, so of course they will smile at your adorable child who is pulling the strings off of their $4000 guitar.

Yesterday I honestly wanted to find some of these parents and ask them... "Hey, would it be okay if tomorrow I show up at your office with my 7 kids and let them climb on your desk and play with your computer while you work? Okay, that's be great."

His glass is half full

2009-09-15T18:49:00.000-07:00

This morning, while looking up at his spice rack full of meds, Pipo said to me "I think I'll be a pharmacist when I grow up, because I am really good at pills.

I really, really love this kid.

Fall insanity

2009-09-12T05:51:00.000-07:00

I've written about our crazy soccer schedule in the past, both here and here... but this fall we are at a whole 'nother level. All 7 are playing, one on two different teams, and no one is on the same team. Eight different schedules to follow. A friend commented the other day on how organized we must be, and what my calendar must look like. I admitted that we don't even have a calendar. I keep stuff in my head, always have. That way I won't lose it! The truth is, if I wrote everything on the calendar I think my head might just explode. Going day by day doesn't seem so scary, but to see all of it out there... I'm just not sure I could deal with it. I counted last night, and we have 19 practices a week. Thankfully Kaleigh can drive to her own, so I am 'only' left with 14. Add on the 7-10 games per week, CCD starting for 6 of them, multiple doctor and dentist appointments set up for the fall, and Fitz and I are left with our heads spinning.

We chose to have a big family, and we chose to have them involved in activities like soccer... so I am not complaining at all. I was talking with a friend yesterday, and I realized what the bigger issue is. We have no transition time from Summer to Fall. I am incredibly thankful for our summers. They are truly dream summers for our kids. All of us are together constantly, with no pressures or true commitments. Camp is our only commitment, but it is a joy to be there, and it is one of the most relaxing places I've ever been. We go straight from pure, fun family time to a jam packed schedule literally overnight. It's a tough thing to get used to. At least for this mom.

The picture above is one of the first family photos of all of us in many years. I have plenty of pictures of all the kids, but I am rarely out from behind the camera. This shot was taken during a weekend in Vermont with family and friends. Slipped in between camp and trips to the Cape, it was just one more adventure I know the kids will remember forever. I doubt they will remember all these soccer games, or their 5th grade homework or any of the other things we seem to be rushing back and forth from lately. It all makes me realize how valuable that family time is. And no matter how crazy our fall may be, we will make an effort to fit some of that time in where we can.

Getting bigger...

2009-08-28T11:42:00.001-07:00

At the playground the other day, Tommy asked me to help him on the trolley, where he was never able to reach up to. Last Spring, he still needed help. But the other day, he reached right up and grabbed it. I think he was as surprised as I was! It made me realize that all 7 have grown so much over the summer!

Then I took pictures for Kaleigh's senior portraits... she might not be getting any bigger, but she sure is looking older!

A man remembered

2009-08-26T04:30:00.000-07:00

I was incredibly sad this morning to read the news about the passing of Senator Ted Kennedy. Not a lot of people know our tie with Kennedy, but it is a big one. So today, I am reposting a post I wrote almost 4 years ago. Kennedy is not just one of the "politicians" I speak of, but the one who stepped in. The one who made it possible to bring our son home.

Philippe

Fitz had just come home from work. After routinely asking him about his day, I tried in vain to listen to him above the normal chaos of a house with 6 young kids whose Daddy had just gotten home from work. As I waded through the thick mass of toys and toddlers which had become my home, one sentence filtered through to me. “His name is Philippe, and he is eight years old…”

Much, much later, when the kids had been tucked in and some of the chaos of the house sorted out, we lay side by side in the darkness of our room. I asked him again to tell me about Philippe. It seemed an old student of his, Conor Shapiro was working in Haiti, and his family was adopting a young boy. When Fitz asked Conor’s mom about it, she immediately told him about Philippe…another little boy needing a home. He said he would go home and talk it over with me. But there was no talking needed. From the moment Philippe’s name filtered through to me that afternoon, another Fitzsimmons child was born.

Adoption was not a brand new idea to us. After making several trips to Honduras, Fitz and I spoke of adoption often. We even got as serious at one point as to start looking into the requirements of several different international adoption programs. But as time went on, we soon had six children of our own, and the idea became something more distant…something to put off until our children were a bit older. It became a vague, fuzzy vision of a foreign, exotic looking toddler with six older siblings to spoil him or her. Not once in our brief discussions did Haiti come up. Not once had we talked about an older child. Most certainly we had never discussed taking on a child with serious illness.

As we have found out, yet again, life rarely turns out as we expect it. After going through pregnancy and childbirth six times, I thought, “How hard could this be?” We started first with the appropriately named ‘home study’ process. They do actually study your home. After interviews separately with the social worker at her office spilling our lives out, and then an interview together, she came to our home to interview our kids and inspect our home. I was nervous to the point of being nauseous. Would we pass this test? Would we be acceptable parents? If things were found to be wrong, what would that mean…that I had already failed as a parent six times over? Throughout this process, one thing kept me sane. It was a picture pinned up to our bulletin board. The little boy was Philippe, and he was eight years old…

Over the next several months, that picture on our bulletin board became an accepted part of our house, of our family. One morning I awoke to the sound of two small voices in the kitchen. Charlie, 5, was asking EJ, 7 where babies came from. EJ, with his infinite patience, was explaining to Charlie that God puts the babies inside the mama, and when they are ready, they come out. Charlie replied with, “so Mama had a baby inside her, and then another, and then another, and then another, and then another and then another?” “Yes,” said EJ. “Well what about Philippe?” asked Charlie “Well, God knew Mama was tired, and so he decided the next baby would come from Haiti,” answered EJ. “But Philippe’s not a baby,” pointed out Charlie. EJ, again showing his patience, replied “Well God knew a baby wouldn’t be much fun for us to play with, so he made him 8.” As I lay there listening to them, I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to cry. Our kids had made common sense of a situation which we had pondered over for hours about how to explain to them.

Now, many months later, I sit here in the dark thinking about that little boy. He is lying in a hospital bed far, far away from us. I have spent the last several days contacting every government official I can think of who may be willing to help. Each conversation starts the same way, “His name is Philippe, and he is eight years old…” I have politicians in three states fighting for us to help get our son home. The US Ambassador to Haiti is pleading with the Haitian government to make an exception, waive some requirements and let Philippe exit the country in order to be rushed to the US for medical treatment. There is nothing more I can do now but wait. It’s an excruciating feeling as a parent. We know we have done our best, and we hope we have reached the right people, touched the right emotions, and helped people understand the imperativeness of this situation.

So for now, we wait. I hold on tightly to our six children here with us, and am thankful for their good health. I pray daily for Philippe’s well being and hope that he will be here soon. A stranger stops, noting how many children we have. After commenting to the kids on how many brothers and sisters they have, Margaret quickly pipes up, “We have another brother….his name is Philippe, and he is eight years old…”

Life

2009-06-18T18:19:00.000-07:00

I laugh at the title of that last post. Did I really think I was catching up? That I ever could catch up? Life seems to have spun out of control on us somewhere along the way, and I feel like I just grabbed an overhanging tree branch to yank myself out of the current.

Since that last post we have celebrated 4 birthdays, said goodbye to our good friend Livingstone, held our 12th annual Memorial Day bash (unofficial headcount had our numbers over 150 this year), dealt with some ever occurring health issues with Pipo, attended numerous sporting events, concert, school celebrations and special events, finished up the school year, and most recently, hosted a group of Rwandan dancers.

What? What was that last item? Oh yes, it was that broken filter in my mouth... the one that let's that crazy YES word come flying out at any old moment. Standing by the fire after one of our Wednesday night dinners, a good friend casually mentioned a Rwandan dance troupe that was flying in shortly to perform and had nowhere to stay. I swear, sometimes these moments are like an out of body experience. I float somewhere up above, watching myself say "Why of course we don't mind seven strangers moving in indefinitely!" I float up above, shaking my head, wondering when I will ever learn.

What we thought was the offer of a roof over their heads for a few nights became a week and a half of feeding the crowd, driving people here and there, trips into Boston Medical to try and figure out strange ailments... we quickly found out we bit off a bit more that we expected to chew.

But here I am, down on Cape Cod, hanging onto that tree branch for dear life and watching the current storm by me. In retrospect, with all the stress and commotion this latest turn of events caused, I don't know that I would have changed things. Some definite positives came out of it, and it is an experience my kids won't soon forget.

Raising 7 kids on a teachers salary is no easy feat, and Fitz and I know there are many things we will never be able to do for our kids. Fancy expensive toys, exotic trips, private lessons and activities may all be out of our reach, but life experiences... these are the things we hold on to. Watching Kaleigh drive off with 3 Rwandan teenagers to meet up with a crowd of friends and get a soccer game going. Seeing the pride on Emma's face when she throws herself into her own soccer game, scoring two goals and inpressing the young Rwandan friend who came to watch her. Laughing while E.J. attempts to work out a Bob Marley song on the piano and guitar with another Rwandan friend who speaks not a word of English. Watching the sheer joy on the youngest of the troupe jumps on a trampoline for his first time.

We may not have much, but I am feeling incredibly rich lately. I look at my kids, see them reaching out to strangers from the other side of the world, and I know that I gave them this.

Catching up

2009-04-27T09:24:00.001-07:00

Well... Fitz Mountain is finally gone. The winter we thought would never end has finally turned into Spring! And with Spring comes yard work, which Tommy and Emma are glad to help with, as long as it includes a ride in the trailer!

Easter came and went, with lots of aunts, uncles and cousins. Actually... a mid egg hunt snowball fight was the final demise of the mountain!

Then came Fitz's birthday, with so many candles I had to get a permit from the fire department!

Last week, Margaret had 12 inched cut from her hair, which she donated to locks of love.

And last but not least, Emma made her First Communion. The 5th in a row here in Fitzville. We have a brief hiatus this coming year, before Tommy has the grand finale.

Long time, no post

2009-04-26T19:19:00.000-07:00

Life in Fitzville has been a little crazier than usual this Spring. Along with the normal school/work/sports schedule, we've had a few big events like First Communion, plays, birthdays etc.

Our most recent change in routine is a nice one though... in the form of an unexpected visitor. Our friend, Livingstone Mpagi from Uganda flew in last week and has been staying with us. We met Livingstone 2 years ago at camp. He was a counselor that the kids fell in love with immediately, especially Pipo, who came up to me soon after camp started telling me "Mom, Livingstone is my best friend!"

We knew Livingstone as the quiet, gentle farmer from Uganda, but didn't know much more. This past week has been an amazing week finding more and more about this amazing person.

I have spent the last hour helping Livingstone set up a blog of his own to promote his school in Uganda. He is brand new to blogging, and still figuring out the whole system. His school is shown on a website here at Building Brighter Futures.

The picture at the top of the post is the initial school Livingstone built in 1996. He had 11 students from the village attending. Now, he serves more than 200, in the school pictured at the bottom of the post. Livingstone's new blog is Bukeka Children's Center . Stop by and send some encouragement!

Why is it...?

2009-03-31T17:57:00.001-07:00

The other day we were getting ready to go to church, and I played the nagging wife role perfectly. "Are you really wearing that?" and "But your hair... it's, like um... sticking up everywhere!" I had just spent a frantic half hour making sure the kids did not have gaping holes in the knees of their pants, or stains on their shirts.

Fitz laughs whenever I get like this. He tries to convince me that no one will care if Tommy's shirt matches his pants, or if Emma's pigtails are uneven. But I know the truth. Everyone will be watching.

Why is it that when a family (especially a large family) goes out in public, the husband and wife are viewed so differently? If it's the typical chaos, and someone's shoes are on the wrong feet, someone's hair isn't brushed, someone buttoned their shirt wrong... people look at the dad and thing "Oh, that poor, hardworking guy... just trying to support that big family of his." But when they look at the mom, they are thinking "Man, why can't she get her act together? Those poor kids... she has so many of them she can't possibly care for them properly!"

I know society thinks this way. So for now I will keep spit-slicking my husbands hair down on the way to church, no matter how many times he smacks my hand away.

Way cool...

2009-03-25T08:37:00.000-07:00

Caribbean - July 2008

Fitz and I have talked lately about how thankful we are for what we have... especially these days. Things are always tight, and we scrape by, but we do it with fun and love and purpose. One of the things I am most thankful for is the experiences we have been able to give our kids.

All told, I have had it pretty good my whole life, but if there is one thing I regret, it is the lack of traveling I have done. Fitz has been around the world, and the big joke when he tells his stories is me saying "I've never been anywhere..." He promises me that someday I will be able to venture out of my little New England bubble.

My oldest daughter Kaleigh, however, is fairly well traveled for a 17 year old kid. Last summer, she had the amazing opportunity to spend a month in the Caribbean through the incredibly awesome Summer camp Fitz and I work at... Windsor Mountain International. Today, we officially found out that this summer, Kaleigh will be spending a month in Peru, in a full Spanish immersion program. How cool is that. I fully admit I am living my life vicariously through Kaleigh, and I am incredibly excited for this opportunity for her.

Every summer, Fitz and I must say a hundred times how lucky we are to have camp be such a huge part of our lives. Even before these trips, Kaleigh had such awesome experiences just being part of camp while we worked. And now, all 7 kids are getting so much out of it every summer.

We are just counting down the weeks now... the kids ask me regularly, "how much longer until camp?"

All in a name...

2009-03-03T18:04:00.000-08:00

Okay, time to get back to the lightheartedness...

There is nothing I love better than listening to my kids chatting away after they are supposed to be going to sleep. I just can't get mad when I hear them laughing and joking up there. Tonight, I lingered on the stairs a bit to listen to the 4 boys, all in one bedroom. They were discussing names, and why they had their names. Charlie was retelling what I had once told him... that I didn't care what Fitz called the baby if it was a girl, but if it was a boy, it was definitely Charlie. E.J. told the others that he was going to be Sarah if he was a girl (true), and they all cracked up and said they would call him Sarah now. In the middle of all this, Charlie says, "But what about sauce?" "Huh?" said 3 brothers' voices. Charlie went on... "but what about sauce, I mean why do we call it sauce?"

This had me laughing all the way down the stairs, to tell Fitz, where it reminded us of another story from years back. I was driving a van full of young kids, and they were all discussing animals. I was trying to impress upon them what a brilliant mom they had by classifying animals. I was explaining that a dog is actually a canine, a cat is a feline, but they are both mammals... etc. Suddenly, a small voice in the back pipes up, little Emma asking "Yeah, but what about croutons?"

I still haven't been able to answer that one.

Walking the Line

2009-03-01T08:40:00.000-08:00

When my blog suddenly got over 500 hits yesterday, I knew something was up. It seems yesterdays post was linked on another blog, and started quite a debate.

While some people understood my anger at the ignorance I witnessed yesterday, many thought I was jumping to conclusions, and being overly sensitive.

I have learned in the past three years that it is a very thin line walk as a parent of a black child. You want to be there to protect them, and to prepare them for the racism they may encounter in life. But you also want to teach them tolerance, acceptance and trust. I certainly don't want Pipo to be expecting people to judge him... and yet I don't want to raise him to be naive either.

It's hard posting things on a blog... so much is left to the interpretation of the reader. There's no good way to convey tone, inflection or attitude. I am sure that the woman yesterday had no idea Emma and Pipo were siblings... I wouldn't expect her to know that. But the tone of her voice, the expression on her face said everything to me when she spoke of the "African American boy."

Even before Pipo arrived, I had seen much ignorance. Having a big family puts us out there, so to speak, and leaves us vulnerable to peoples public (and sometimes very vocal) opinions. But I've learned over the years to listen carefully when people speak... and not just to their words. Two strangers can say the exact same thing to me, and have totally different meanings. When finding out we have 7 kids, I often hear, "Are you going to have more?" Picture these words spoken by someone with open curiosity and a smile on their face. I love talking to people who are genuinely curious as to what its like to raise a crew. Now picture those words spoken with a sneer, and a look of disgust. It's very hard not to read in the implications there... I'm overpopulating the world, I am irresponsible, I am creating tax burdens on those with smaller families, I can't possibly have enough love or attention for that many, and am therefore neglectful.

When we are in public, and Pipo yells "Mom!" to me, I get lots of reactions. I am the first to say that the vast majority of the reactions are positive. But it's the same deal. It's not the words, but how they are said. "He's your son?" with a smile and a curious look can often lead to a cool conversation about adoption. "He's your son?" with a look of disgust makes me wonder what the person is thinking. I actually had one person say straight out to me "do they all have different fathers?"

But I also know this ignorance is the minority, at least from what I have experienced. And even many of the most ignorant comments are from well meaning people. People who have just not been around different types of families, different types of people. (Don't even get me started on the dreadlock comments I have gotten!) But just because it is rare, it doesn't mean I should teach my kids that it is out there. Pipo needs to know, he needs to be aware. By not teaching him this I would be doing him a huge disservice. And so I walk that fine line, and try to teach him to not just hear the words, but the way they are spoken.

Ignorance

2009-02-28T13:51:00.000-08:00

When we first talked about bringing Pipo into our family, we talked about the possible ignorance we may face. Thankfully, there have been incredibly few instances over the last three years...but when it does come up, it is a terrible reminder to us that it is out there... it exists.

Today I had the kids at Fitz's big end of the year wrestling tournament. We go every year, so by this point, my kids know the building really well, and I am pretty comfortable to let them run loose there. So I was standing with another parent, watching a match when a woman walked up to me holding Emma's hand. She told me that Emma was alone on the first floor of the building and a group of boys were harassing her. I laughed a little and told her that they were probably her brothers. The woman was still upset, and told me they were 'threatening' Emma and telling her they would give her candy if she kissed someone. I asked Emma who, and she said Pipo, Charlie and Tommy. I told Emma to go get them, and again told the woman they were just her brothers, and I was sure they were just teasing her. The woman, looking very angry at this point, said "No... there was an African American boy there, and she looked scared!"

And there it goes... the bigger black boy with the smaller white girl. Obviously a little thug, obviously up to no good, obviously the poor little white girl was in danger from the black kid.

I told the woman a little more firmly this time... "Yes.. that is her brother," and I walked away. But I walked away fuming. If it had been Charlie or EJ teasing Emma, this would not have happened. But because it was Pipo, this woman assumed he was up to no good. The fact that she said Emma looked scared made me laugh... of course she was scared. A strange woman grabbed her by the hand and dragged her away!

I took all the kids aside and talked to them about teasing, but I also told them what this woman said. I have talked with all of the kids about this before. They need to know it's out there. They need to know that some people will see Pipo' skin color first. It makes me angry that a normal sibling moment turns into this, but it is part of our life. It is part of life that Pipo will always have to deal with, and moments like this are just part of the learning process for him.

The funny thing is that after it all, I was still fuming... I wanted to haul that mom outside and knock the ignorance out of her. (I know... very mature, but it's the mama bear thing I have going... don't threaten my cubs.) But Pipo was in a great mood afterwards. I couldn't understand at first, because it made me so mad. But then he said "Mom, you're really mad at that lady, huh?" and he smiled. And I knew then... he knows we've got his back. We've taught him that ignorance is out there, but we've taught him that we will do our best to stand up to it, to stand behind him.

Small town life...

2009-02-22T05:35:00.001-08:00

Been away from the blog for a bit, but we are just finishing up vacation week and getting back a little normalcy here. If there is any such thing as normalcy here in Fitzville!

We had a fantastic few days down the Cape with Nana and Papa and some fun, fun cousins. Much swimming was done, and a short visit to a maritime museum where the kids got to try their hand at some scrimshaw. The pirate dress up area was the favorite by far though.

Mid week I had a situation come up where I needed to drive to NJ unexpectedly. With Fitz not being on vacation, this meant I needed to either take several kids with me on a 5 hour two way road trip, or find people to watch all the kids overnight. Most people who know me know that I have a very difficult time asking for help. Fitz reminds me constantly that people like to help... and that I have no problem offering to take other peoples kids at a moments notice. Well, I didn't have much choice here, so I started making phone calls. And this is where I love our little town. As much as I hated asking, I knew without a doubt that there were so many people I could call, and I knew they would help without hesitation.

An hour later, I had 5 kids distributed among 3 different houses. The kids were thrilled with the spur of the moment sleep over arrangements, and I was relieved to know they would all be in good hands.

The bonus of all this is that Margaret decided to come with me for company. This meant some unexpected one on one time (rare in our house) and a night at a hotel with a pool. As tough as the long drive was, we had a very fun night.

Who needs CNN... I've got Charlie

2009-02-13T05:24:00.000-08:00

This morning Charlie was in a hurry to get to school, so he went out to sit in the van, which I had warming up in the driveway. I must have left the radio on, because when I got into the van (he had been in there no more than 5 minutes!) this is what I heard...

"Hey Mom, you know what? There was a bad fire in Plymouth last night, their smoke detectors weren't working. And a plane crashed in NY. The Celtics won last night, and the Bruins are on the road tonight. It's going to be 35 tomorrow, and the warm spell is over. Probably a few cold ones in store for us."

In his own time

2009-02-12T03:28:00.001-08:00

I have posted about EJ in the past on by blog, though rarely. He is our quiet, sensitive sweetheart. He is also one not to jump in headfirst. He has always liked to take his time and assess the situation first. This is the boy who did not walk until 16 months, not because he couldn't, but because he just wasn't ready. He does things in his own time... and he does them when he knows for sure he will do them well. So yesterday shouldn't have surprised me.

When Pipo signed up for wrestling this winter, we had offered it to all the boys. EJ had no interest at all. Fitz tried to gently encourage him, mentioning friends that were doing it, but EJ wanted no part of it. All winter, however, EJ has been hanging out at practice with Fitz's varsity team. He often fully participates, but will also just sit doing his homework, occasionally looking up to watch a new move being taught.

Yesterday, I brought the rest of the kids to watch one of Fitz's team matches. When the other team arrived, they had a couple of smaller kids, and the coach asked Fitz if he had any smaller kids to give them matches. Fitz had no one that size, but told the coach that he had two sons there that might be willing to throw on a uniform and wrestle. Now Pipo has been wrestling all year with own team, so I was not worried a bit about that. But EJ had never wrestled a match in his life... I was sure he would say no. When he quietly went and changed into the uniform, I knew down deep that my boy must be ready. He would never jump in until he knew absolutely that he was ready. And he was.

In his first wrestling match of his life... a school varsity match no less... EJ went out and pinned his opponent in the first period.

I wish I had a camera to capture the moment, but I am pretty sure there is no camera lens wide enough to have captured his smile coming off that mat.

It seems we have a new wrestler in the family.

Pops Night

2009-02-07T04:15:00.000-08:00

Finally got it uploaded... Kaleigh and a friend doing their version of "Picture". Sorry for the dizzying camerawork.

And Kaleigh doing a cover of "Bleeding Love"... might want to look away and listen, this video is REALLY dizzying!

I am not old enough...

2009-02-06T19:17:00.000-08:00

... to have a 17 year old daughter. But there you have it, Kaleigh is 17 today. She had a great night, as it was "Pops Night" at her school. Kind of a highschool acoustic coffee house. It was awesome. Kaleigh played a song on her own, and then did a couple of other songs with friends, including an awesome cover of "Picture" by Sheryl Crow and Kid Rock. I will try to get a video up later, but the videographer skills of 10yo E.J. made me a little dizzy.

But seriously, a very cool night. I was amazed at the talent at our tiny little high school. And the guts! I could never have gotten up like that at that age. Or now. Or ever.

Excitable?

2009-02-02T04:08:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I was picking Emma up from a birthday party. As we were leaving, I reminded her to say 'thank you' to the girl's parents. The dad smiled and said, "Oh, and thank you for being so, um, so... excitable!" "Excitable," I said? The mom must have seen the look of horror on my face, and she quickly said, "Oh, no, she's just... well, she's not shy at all is she?" I smiled weakly, and led Emma out the door.

On the way to the car, I asked Emma what she had done at the party. Skipping ahead of me, pigtails bouncing, she yelled over her shoulder "I had FUN!!!"

Well, there you have it. I can only hope she wasn't doing cartwheels through their living room like her brother would have.

Lesson Learned

2009-01-30T04:08:00.000-08:00

About a week ago, I made the mistake of telling someone how this is the healthiest winter I have had in ages. Of course the next morning I woke up with a nasty head cold which I have been fighting for a week.

You would think I had learned my lesson, but no. The other night I was bragging to some friends that we hadn't visited our pediatrician all winter. Of course, Margaret came home from school yesterday and fell sound asleep immediately, which told me something was up. I took her temp when she woke up and she was at 103.

I am not saying another word about any of us and our health. Ever.

Headlock with Dreadlocks

2009-01-24T15:54:00.000-08:00

I didn't think there was anything as cool as Pipo's dreadlocks when he played soccer, but I must say, they are pretty cool when he is wrestling too!

A fellow blogger recently asked me to do a post on hair, so I will do my best here.

I have posted about hair in the past, but never in depth. I have been incredibly fortunate in that the summer camp we work at has several people who I have been able to go to for hair advice. I was SO happy this summer when one of our good friends from Jamaica told Pipo his hair looked great and that that was how he started his dreads when he was a boy.

When Pipo first started growing his hair out, I wasn't sure what to do with it. One of my camp friends sat with me one afternoon and talked me through these 'comb coils'. These are done by taking small chunks of hair, greasing them up good, and twisting them up with the end of a fine toothed comb. While it looked cute, I didn't love the style on Pipo. His face is just too pretty, and I felt it made him look a little girlish.

Eventually I started to do two strand twists on him as his hair got longer. This was a little easier for me... taking two bits of hair and twisting them around eachother, so that the final product looks almost like a bit of fat yarn (or at least mine did!) But again, it looked a little too feminine on him. I saw a photo online of a boy with all but the top of his head shaved. I asked Pipo if he wanted to try it. The big bonus was that it took much less time to do his hair with only the top of it to twist. I loved the look on him, and we went with this. As his hair got longer though, it got pretty time consuming to do a retwist. He would wash his hair, and I would have to pick it all out with a comb, and then redo all the twists. He didn't seem like he was going to want to cut his hair anytime soon, so I suggested going to dreadlocks. I told him it would be for good (until he wanted to cut his hair) but he liked the idea.

So now his hair has been "locked" for well over a year. It's getting pretty long, but I must say, it suits him.

When I first started his dreadlocks, I read anything I could find about them. One of the best resources was a post by another blogger, which you can find here. These two adorable boys have had their hair locked since they were very young toddlers. It's a great post with lot's of info.

Starting Pipo's locks was fairly simple. I just kept the two strand twists in, and every week in the beginning I would retwist. His hair wasn't that long yet, so it wasn't too bad. After about a month, it was 2-3 weeks between twisting, and now I can go up to 6 weeks without it looking too bad. The main issue is the new hair growth. The base of the locks get pretty fuzzy.

I take each lock, dab a bit of gel at the base, and twist up the new growth.

Then I glide a bit more gel up the length of the lock and palm roll it as you can see below. It is simply putting the lock between my hands and rolling it back and forth.

I add a clip to each finished lock, right at the base. You can see below how fuzzy the untwisted part of his head is.

When his whole head is done, it needs to dry. Pipo is not a fan of the hairdryer, so I usually do his locks early on a day when we have nothing going, and then he can just hang around the house for a couple hours with his head all clipped!

There are lot's of variations to this routine. I use "Let's Jam" for gel. I have tried many products, but this is the one which worked best for Pipo's hair. As far as parting the hair goes, I was pretty loose about it. Being a boy, I didn't care so much how 'uniform' his locks looked. So the parts are not even at all, and the locks themselves are varying sizes. I like this look for him, it seems more 'boyish' and natural.

The biggest benefit by far though, is how much bonding happens with hair time. I have posted about that before, but I will say it again... the physical one on one time we get with retwisting is SO good. Pipo actually will ask me to do his hair before it even really needs to be done. And I am sure it's because he needs that time. Time to just relax, and have mom to himself. And for that... I will keep twisting his hair as long as he wants me to!

Phone Rage

2009-01-22T15:01:00.000-08:00

Anyone who has spent any time trying to finagle their way through an automated phone system has experienced phone rage, haven't they? Or maybe it's just me. Maybe I am just losing my mind, but give me a good old fashioned human being on the other end of the line anytime.

I had a question with USCIS today, and called their handy customer service line. I then spent over a half an hour listening to various options which had nothing to do with my question. None of the options was to speak to an actual human. Eventually, after listening to the 4,783 options, you are given one final option... to press this number to return to the main menu, which of course will send you through the 4,783 options all over again.

As I sat there with my blood pressure rising higher and higher, I started to get a little delusional, and heard some new options...

Press 1 to scream into the phone

Press 2 to throw the phone against the wall

Press 3 to break something

Press 4 to hurt someone physically

Press 5 for anger management classes

Or something like that... tell me, am I alone in these feelings? Am I really losing it?

A day for History

2009-01-20T18:17:00.001-08:00

A self portrait by Pipo...

No matter how you felt about this election, there is no denying we all witnessed a spectacular piece of history today. And today, of all days, I was incredibly grateful to my son, for giving me such a very, very different take on the significance of this moment.

I drove Pipo to wrestling practice tonight, and we talked a bit about the inauguration, which he watched at school today. He really doesn't see it as a big deal. I talked to him about the fact that in Haiti, it was mostly people with brown skin, but that it is different here in the US... and it was very, very different years ago. He understands this somewhat, but the reality is, he arrived here at a time when we were heading towards change. What a time to become an American for a brown skinned little boy.

I have heard stories from many adoptive parents that their children went through a phase of wanting to be white like their new parents. They try to 'wash the brown off', or ask for a special lotion to make them white. We have had such a different experience in this area, and I am thankful for that. The only mention of it at all, is the one time Pipo told Fitz that if he wanted to be "dark like me... you should spend more time in the sun." He doesn't see the white skin as better... he is proud of his skin, proud of his heritage, proud of himself. I wouldn't want it any other way. I loved this self portrait that he brought home from school... with his dark skin, and outlining his dreadlocks. This boy is comfortable with himself, and I want to keep it that way.

And now he has even more reason to be comfortable in his skin. A new bar has been set... or better yet, the bar has been broken. My boy can be anything when he grows up, even the president. He can be anything.

My own favorite portrait of Pipo

Happy Birthday

2009-01-13T18:08:00.000-08:00

It's hard to believe he is 12 years old today. After a long day spent waiting around while Fitz finished his meetings, because Mom had to work, he wolfed down a couple of chicken legs so we could hurry through his cake before he ran off to wrestling practice. After practice, I ran the sweaty, tired boy over to K-Mart, because it was the only time we had to go get his birthday present. I was feeling a little beyond stressed at the whirlwind of our day, and a little mommy-guilt at the hurried pace of his birthday. But as he walked out of K-Mart with me, even knowing it was too late at night for him to even open his new Bionicles... he said "this could be my best birthday ever!" How can I not love this kid?

As a birthday tradition here in Fitzville, the birthday kid gets measured on the wall of fame in the kitchen. As I wrote his name up there next to the number 12, It was hard not to notice that he was still behind even Margaret at 10... and with all the Fitz kids being somewhat vertically challenged, this really emphasizes how far behind Pipo is in that department. But then I stepped back and really looked at that wall. I saw his very first mark up there... "Philippe - 9". I looked at that mark, and looked at todays, and saw a full foots difference. He may be behind, but he is trying like heck to catch up... and he's doing it!

Life's lessons

2009-01-10T21:18:00.000-08:00

Pipo started wrestling this past month... fulfilling a long time dream of his wrestling coach dad... to have one of his boys finally out there on the mat. When Pipo first came here, one of our biggest battles with him was teaching him sportsmanship. With both Fitz and I having coached varsity sports, it is pretty high on our list. Unsportsmanlike behavior is simply not tolerated.

In those first seasons of Little League and soccer, we had many battles. I actually pulled Pipo off the soccer field in the middle of a game once, telling him "if you aren't going to play like a team player then you don't belong on the team." Several times we made him write apology notes to coaches about his behavior before letting him go back to the team. He's come a long way in three years, and we have been so proud of him. But there are still those moments, and he still hates to lose.

Wrestling seemed to me the perfect venue to work on this. There is nothing to teach you losing better than losing individually, under a spotlight, in front of a crowd, while wearing spandex. Talk about throwing a kid to the lions. We talked to Pipo about how this is his first year... it's a tough league, and he will probably lose a lot... maybe always this season. Last week the team had it's first match, competing against two very tough towns. Pipo lost both matches, but made us incredibly proud, by holding his head high, and continuing to cheer on his team for the rest of the long match.

I wondered how he would be going into the match this week. I worried that he would be discouraged, not be excited to get out there. But he surprised me by his good mood on the way to the match. He lost his first match, and again made me proud by coming off the mat with his head held high.

But the second match... I'm not sure I could ever describe my emotions accurately here. He battled through the first period, and quickly into the second period had his opponent on his back. When the referee slapped the mat, I just sat staring, not quite sure what had actually happened. Then I heard our team's bench go wild... all these young boys screaming for Pipo who had gotten his first pin.

I know I went into this whole experience wanting Pipo to learn how to be a good loser, but I am not sure who was happier about this win today, him or his mom.

I think back three years ago to this sickly, spindly legged kid with the bloated belly. The boy his dad had to carry up the stairs at night, because he was too weak to climb them. The boy who couldn't even climb up into our van. The boy who received a bicycle for his first ever birthday party at 9 years old, but needed to be pushed, because he didn't have the strength to pedal.

That boy pinned his opponent today. And it was all I could do not to scream "That's my son!!!" and embarrass him beyond belief. But I didn't. I just sat there quietly, trying not to cry and embarrass myself beyond belief. That's my son.

Special Ed.

2009-01-08T07:00:00.000-08:00

I have mentioned that I was a Special Ed. teacher in a former life. I've been out of the field for over 10 years now, but in it from the other side (the parenting side) for a few years now. The other day we had an evaluation meeting for Tommy, and I was struck once again at the huge advantage I have with my background.

We received his reports over vacation, and even with my background knowledge, I had to read through all the testing and summaries several times to make sense of it. Fitz, who is a teacher, but not a sped teacher, looked through the thick stack of papers, and quickly passed them back to me, asking for a summary. I read through all the test scores, the complicated terminology, and wondered how the average parent does this. But having been on the other side of the IEP table, I know... they sometimes don't or can't do it. It was my biggest gripe when I worked in public schools.

I understand that behind all of it, we all have one goal in common... to help each child learn and progress to the best of their ability. But I also know how that goal can be complicated when you get into all the laws and stipulations of special education. And really, in this day and age, the biggest complication is money. There is only so much money in the budget, only so many services that can be provided. Schools are constantly struggling with this battle... how do we provide all the services that kids need, while dealing with an ever shrinking budget.

As a parent, those money issues are not on our shoulders. It's our job to fight for what our kids need. But unfortunately, many parents go into this battle unarmed. 3 years ago, I went into this battle for Charlie. I knew how the laws worked, I knew what he needed, and I went into our meeting determined to get just that. Now that Tommy is in kindergarten, I found myself fighting the same battle. I wasn't sure how it would go, but at the end of the meeting, it was agreed that he would get the help we were looking for.

I know without a doubt though, that had I not understood those reports, had I not been able to question the results of his testing and read the fine print of those summaries, he would still be floundering as just one student in a class of 17. I am happy we won the battle, but it makes the reality so clear to me. How many kids are floundering? How many parents walk away from those meeting defeated, knowing their child needs help, but not knowing how to negotiate the system and get that help?

The "no child left behind" act is good in theory, but theory is as far as it goes. I could rant and rave in a whole 'nother post about standardized testing, but that's for another day. The reality is that kids are all individuals, with individual needs. And no matter how much we try to create a 'universal system' to help each child achieve their best... there are those kids who will fall through the cracks. And who will reach out to them? Who will be their voice? More importantly, who will help their parents be their voice?

I should be happy that Tommy is getting help, and I am. But I am also feeling guilty, knowing how many other kids need that same help and won't be getting it.

Happy New Year

2009-01-01T08:55:00.000-08:00

It's very cool when New Years Eve falls on a Wednesday night. We really hadn't made any plans... but thought it would be fun to have a pretty relaxed night with the kids, totally forgetting it was Wednesday until just the day before. It turned out that a good number of our Wednesday night friends didn't really have plans either, and were hoping we were doing our traditional Wednesday. It was so great to bring in the New Year with an old tradition. We fed people in shifts, and the photo above is just some of the crew of kids eating meatballs.

I look forward to a New Year, but I am so happy that some things don't change. I love our Wednesdays.

Vacation entertainment

2008-12-26T13:05:00.001-08:00

We have been fully enjoying winter break here in Fitzville, especially with the daily entertainment provided by our cast of characters.

I wasn't sure who to deem the most insane with this one... Fitz for snowblowing a 15 foot mountain of snow in our backyard...

Or Charlie for deciding to snowboard off it... Even with the melting the past couple of days, it was awfully high and steep.

And speaking of Charlie, we are all very aware of Charlie's ~~obsession~~ interest in Australia... he is planning to move there when he is 18. So his list for Santa this year didn't surprise us... same country, different theme. Last year was the outback, this year it's Rugby, Australia World Cup style.

And last but not least, this is that you get when you ask the youngest member of Fitzville to set the table... (and yes, that is Charlie in the background gearing up for yet another cartwheel, maybe off the dining room table this time.)

Do we know it's Christmas?

2008-12-24T19:49:00.000-08:00

I have always liked the song "Do They Know it's Christmas", but for some reason it always put me a little on edge as well. I guess I had always thought that was the intention of the song... to make us think, to make us feel a little guilty for all our excesses here in the States. But yesterday, as I drove to the mall to finish up my shopping, I sat and listened to the song again. I realized exactly what it is that has bothered me all along. It's that one line... the title of the song. "Do they know it's Christmas?"

I get the idea of the song. It was a wonderful project and an incredibly successful fundraiser for a worthy cause. But how presumptuous of anyone to question whether someone knows it's Christmas just because they live in a third world country. How sad it is that we have all come to believe that we "know" Christmas because of our trees and parties and eggnog and our expensive gifts.

Pipo arrived just a week before Christmas 3 years ago, and I know it was overwhelming for him. With the language barrier back then, it was impossible for him to tell us exactly what he was feeling, but I would love to have gotten inside his head. I am pretty sure he thought we were all nuts with the tree inside our house, and lights hanging on the outside, and the fat guy in the red suit everywhere. But the one thing he definitely knew, and knew with a faith that humbled me, was that Christmas was the birthday of Jesus.

In the 3 years since, that faith has come through many times. This is a boy who has lived the life of all those people 'Bandaid' was trying to save back in the 80's. He has seen the devastation of Aids firsthand, he has gone without meals, he has gone without water. But he never was without faith, without God. He had never seen a Christmas tree, or tasted eggnog, but you can bet he knew what Christmas was about, and without any English at all, he let us know that he knew.

As I sat in traffic yesterday, I wondered what someone from a third world country would be thinking if they had a glimpse of America these last few days. They would see the haggard people, standing in long lines, bleary eyed and sucking down luke warm coffee while trying to buy that last minute gift. And I am pretty sure I know what they would be thinking... they would look at us Americans and think "Do they know it's Christmas?"

Snow!

2008-12-20T05:02:00.000-08:00

A foot of snow out there, and it's still coming down hard this morning. It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas... finally.

The kids were outside pretty much all afternoon, and then at a snowfort building party at a friend's last night. We need to build an addition to put wet snowthings to dry.

3 years tonight

2008-12-16T18:19:00.001-08:00

Tonight we celebrated Pipo's 3 year anniversary. It's amazing to me how quickly it's gone by, and how much he has grown and changed in 3 years. That first night, Fitz had to carry him upstairs to bed, because he was to weak to climb the stairs. This Friday, he will compete in his first wrestling match. (Well... first 'real' one, on a team... as opposed to the frequent matches in our basement between brothers!) It's hard to believe this strong, confident boy was that same weak, sick little thing that came into our lives 3 years ago.

Pipo requested Korean food tonight, so Fitz very happily took him out while we made a cake for him.

Good thing he was full of korean food... he decided to share the cake with us!

This last shot is just because. I can't believe how old he is looking.

Gotta love this kid

2008-12-10T15:13:00.001-08:00

I was out with just Tommy today for an audiology exam. It was a long test, and he was very patient, so on the way out I bought him a pack of gum. Driving home in dark van, I reached my hand back and asked if I could have some. "Sure," he replied sweetly, as I felt a wet glob being smeared across my fingers, "you can have half of mine!"

Christmas card 2008

2008-12-07T04:17:00.000-08:00

So the cards have been sent, and the feedback is starting to roll in... this year's card is a hit. I had posted earlier that I was feeling under pressure this year to come up with a good one. The new header picture is the front of our card. It was one of my easiest pictures... no worrying about red eye, or people blinking, or even everyone looking at the camera and smiling. They were a bit sillier doing this shoot, but it just made it that much more fun...which led to the inside picture...

Peace Out!

He's 6

2008-12-05T17:30:00.001-08:00

It's hard for me to believe that this...

Is now this...

You honestly couldn't ask for a sweeter kid. This morning, Charlie came downstairs and said "Happy Birthday Tommy!" Tommy very sweetly replied "happy birthday to you too."

Cartwheel Boy

2008-12-04T05:23:00.001-08:00

I have mentioned before that Charlie puts the capital H in adHd. He has always taken every physical outlet to a whole new extreme. His 'thing' for the past few months has been cartwheels. He does cartwheels everywhere. Cartwheels in the hallway, in the grocery store, on the sidewalk, in the middle of a soccer game... I will even throw in some pictures of Charlie doing cartwheels in the kitchen. Recently, Fitz and I met with a psychologist who is doing some testing on Charlie. She asked about his activity level, and his impulsivity. We mentioned the cartwheels to her. Later that afternoon, I stopped by her office to drop off some paperwork. I had 4 of the kids with me, Charlie included. Yep... right in the waiting area, as I am speaking with the psychologist... a cartwheel. At least it was a good example for her.

But lately, the cartwheels seem to have taken a new toll. I bought Charlie some new sneakers recently. By recently, I mean a week and a half ago. The other day I noticed some stitching coming undone. These were good New Balance sneakers, so I wasn't happy to see them falling apart after just a week and a half. So the next day I brought Charlie and his new shoes down to the shoestore. The very nice shoe man, who has been working at our small town store for decades, looked at the shoes and told me that Charlie has set a new record. If it was just the stitching coming undone, we could call it a defect. But this boy had worn much of the tread off of the shoes in several different places. In the words of the shoe guy "It's like he's some kind of machine!"

Laugh if you want... you are not the one buying shoes for this kid.

It's that time again!

2008-11-26T04:14:00.000-08:00

It's time again for the annual Christmas picture. With Fitz and I both coming from big families, there are many, many aunts and uncles that expect this picture each year. Every year I plan a day of ~~torture~~ picture taking, and get the kids dressed in their matching outfits. They all ~~whine and complain~~ smile and hug, and just make it such a ~~ridiculously difficult~~ wonderful, easy job for me!

But seriously, we've got some good shots over the years... The last two Christmas cards having all 7 kids together.

So at my Mom's recent party, all my aunts and uncles were asking about this years card. I feel like I have upped the anti, and am under pressure this year to come up with something good. So Monday night, with some last minute scurrying to get things together, we did it. And I wish I had a video camera going at the same time. I don't think there is anything more comical than trying to get 7 kids organized for a picture. It's like trying to lasso a herd of cats. And with one of those cats being Charlie, it makes it that much more interesting. Honestly, out of about 30-40 pictures last year, I think I got 2 or 3 shots where Charlie was standing relatively still and looking in the general direction of the camera. I am glad we can all laugh during and after the process, because if not, we would all (me) go insane.

So now you will just have to wait till the card shows up in your mailbox. And when it does... please think of me... of me and my sanity.

Life is good

2008-11-21T13:27:00.001-08:00

If there is anything that we have gotten out of the last few weeks, it is a reminder of how precious life is. How we need sit back every so often and appreciate every little thing we are given. This past Sunday we celebrated my mother's 70th birthday here. It was an amazing day, with a houseful of friends and relatives, many of whom I hadn't seen in years. My mom is one of 10, and many of my aunts and uncles live a good distance away, and don't travel as much these days. So many of them hadn't seen my kids since they were babies... had never even met Pipo. There is nothing to remind you of your own blessings like seeing your children through other people's eyes... especially someone older.

Some very dear old friends of my parents sent us a beautiful note today thanking us for inviting them to the party. They gave us one of the highest compliments I think I could ever receive... that we have created a "real home" here. It reminded me how silly it is that I stressed about the matching hand towel in the bathroom, and what color the tablecloth was. The things people noticed was the warm open environment they felt coming into the house. They didn't notice the cobwebs in the corner, or the dust on some of the picture frames... they noticed Kaleigh playing music with an older cousin she had never met. They noticed Charlie telling stories to his namesake, my Uncle Charlie. They noticed my kids and my brothers kids racing around the backyard after a soccer ball.

We are so incredibly lucky to have such an amazing family... and not just the people in our house... the uncles and aunts that drive great distances, my brothers that came and laughed and talked about old memories with cousins, my parents, celebrating another big milestone.

Yesterday I had dentist appointments for all 7 kids. For some, that might sound like some type of torture, but lately with our ever growing schedules as the kids get older, it's so rare to have all 7 of them together. I sat in the waiting room looking around at all of them talking and laughing, and I thought about this past weekend. I thought about family, and it's importance, and I fully appreciated that stolen time in the dentists waiting room. I could only be so lucky as to celebrate my own 70th someday, and have my children around me talking, laughing and remembering old times... even if it's old times in the dentists office!

(This above picture is random... just a much needed reminder of summer on this 30 degree day!)

Faith

2008-11-08T06:12:00.000-08:00

How do you say goodbye to someone you thought would be around forever?
How do you explain to your children that that person is gone?
How do you get beyond all the 'whys' and 'what fors'?
How do you manage to start life again when your family is one person less than it was yesterday?

Last night Fitz and I stood by and watched his brother say goodbye to his best friend, soulmate, wife of over two decades. We watched as our three nieces said goodbye to their mother. We stood and watched a heartwrenching beauty unfold... a scene so powerful and moving and horrifically sad and beautifully spiritual all at the same time.

Talking to all the kids was as expected, they each took it in very different ways. But little Emma, curled up on Fitz's lap said it best of all... "How cool... Aunt Karen is my Godmother, and now she's going to get to see God!"

Yes, Emma, Yes. And this is how we go on, this is how we say goodbye... by having Faith in things beyond us. By knowing deep in our hearts that there is something more, something even better, something beyond the pain and suffering.

Yesterday, after I had gotten the call from Fitz that it would be very soon, and we should come at once, I turned on the radio in the car to try and calm myself down. The song playing as I turned it on was "Carolina in my Mind" by James Taylor. Karen was a huge James Taylor fan, and I couldn't stop the tears as I listed to the words...

Karen she's a silver sun

You best walk her way and watch it shinin'

Watch her watch the mornin' come

A silver tear appearing now

I'm cryin' ain't I

Gone to Carolina in my mind

There ain't no doubt it no ones mind

That loves the finest thing around

Whisper something soft and kind

And hey babe the sky's on fire,

I'm dyin' ain't I

Gone to Carolina in my mind

In my mind I'm goin' to Carolina

Can't you see the sunshine

Can't you just feel the moonshine

Ain't it just like a friend of mine

It hit me from behind

Yes I'm goin' to Carolina in my mind

She was amazing in every way possible... as a mother, a friend, a sister in law, a daughter...

She is a shining silver sun now, I have no doubt of that.

Random Photo

2008-11-05T19:43:00.001-08:00

I had said I was going to be better with my camera... and I have. I just haven't been better with posting pictures.

Conversation between brothers

My new Haitian daughter....

2008-10-31T19:16:00.000-07:00

Pipo's Halloween costume... this was all his idea!

And I just had to get a close up of his hair... I was very proud of it!

Helping Misha

2008-10-28T05:54:00.000-07:00

Many nights, I find myself browsing the various adoption blogs around the internet. I have connected with some great people this way, and have found some great resources as well. Every once in a while I will stumble upon a story that really touches my heart. Misha's story is one of them. Maybe because he such a beautiful kid, maybe because the rare condition he is afflicted with is the same as our neighbor and very good friend, or maybe because this family's story is so similar to our own. In whatever way it touched me... it touched me deeply, and I want to help. I desperately want to help in any way I can. Fitz and I will be spreading the word in our area, and finding sources of fundraising. I know more people read this blog than actually comment, so if you are reading now, I ask you a simple favor... visit Misha's blog... take a look, see if you can help, and spread the word.

I know when we were bringing Pipo home, we had no idea what we were getting into. 6 kids already, living on a teacher's salary, we were not in a position financially to bring home an older child with serious medical issues. But with every wall we hit, we were blessed. Over and over, family, friends, and even complete strangers reached out their hands and hearts to help a little boy in a desperate situation. I look at Pipo now... he is absolutely thriving. I can't even think about where he would be if it weren't for the kindness of all of those people. The reality is, he wouldn't be here. His doctor in Haiti told us he wouldn't make it much longer. I am so incredibly thankful that we were told about him when we were, and that so many people were there to support us. I can't imagine life without this boy. He is heart and soul part of our family, and it's hard to remember what life was like without him.

Please consider helping make Misha a part of his new family. Help save him from a fate he doesn't deserve. Take a look at their story, and pass the word.

Another phone line?

2008-10-27T09:48:00.001-07:00

I am pretty sure we will need another one in a few years...

My 8 year old Fabio

Another phone line?

2008-10-27T09:48:00.000-07:00

Politics and money

2008-10-23T10:02:00.000-07:00

I rarely talk about politics. Never here on this blog, but it's rare for me to get into a political discussion anywhere. My brain shuts off and I look for a quick escape if I see that is where a discussion is heading. But I am going to break from my usual habits to just discuss one thing.

Recently, we received an invitation to a fundraiser for someone running for State Representative. Now, I have nothing against this candidate, and a dinner at a local restaurant sounds fun, and a good way to raise some funds. But it had me thinking about the bigger picture. During this presidential election I have been listening more to the news about the money involved in financing campaigns. It's always made me sick to hear the size of the figures mentioned, but this time around it is hitting me harder. Maybe it's our own personal financial strain, maybe it's reading about Pipo's home village being hit so hard with the recent hurricanes, or maybe it's just the huge downward spiral our economy is in. Whatever the reason, hearing the amount of money being shoveled into all these campaign funds is making me want to vomit lately.

I think maybe it started back in February when the Clinton/Obama race was heating up, and Hillary loaned her own campaign 5 million dollars. I listened to that on the radio, and my head started spinning. With rising oil costs, how many families here in America were struggling to heat there homes? How many families didn't even have homes? How many were struggling to feed their families? That 5 million sure could have gone far.

Clinton wasn't the only one though... all the presidential candidates were racking up huge numbers. It's estimated that this years election will cost about 5.3 billion dollars. Think about that... 5.3 billion dollars. How many 3rd world countries could be helped with that? How many hungry people fed? How many economies helped towards stabilization?

For just once, I would like to see a candidate that wasn't rolling in money. An average Joe kinda guy... someone who works and struggles and lives life the way most of us do, just trying to get by. And I would like to see that candidate run a money-free campaign. Just picture it... someone just plainly telling us how they would like to help our country. How they would like to make a difference without racking up those big numbers. Someone who would just walk into small town public schools, town halls, and stand right outside on our sidewalks saying "Vote for me... you don't have to pay for it." With the technology of today, especially the internet, it wouldn't be hard to run a free campaign. Post some Youtube videos of why you should be president, start an email campaign, blog about your beliefs... I'll vote for you.

Anyone who would take public spending that seriously would easily get my vote... anyone with me on this?

Catching up

2008-10-21T15:57:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I did go out with my camera, we did play, but life caught up to us again, and I have hardly had time to upload pictures. Here we go...

Emma going off the bike ramp

Tommy, doing some homework. This boy loves kindergarten!

Charlie reading... something he can't get enough of lately! So cool to see him sitting still for once in his life!

I have more, but for some reason Blogger keeps flipping them sideways when I post them. I keep trying to fix them, but I am out of energy!

First of a few

2008-10-15T14:41:00.000-07:00

Tonight is the annual dinner for the Saint Boniface Foundation. This is the organization responsible for our becoming parents for the 7th time. Not only did we find out about Pipo through a good friend who is now their programming director, but the Saint Boniface hospital, and there wonderful doctors, are what kept Pipo going until we could get him here. Pipo's specialist here in Boston is continually commenting on how well he is doing, and how amazing it is that they were able to keep him going all that time in Haiti considering their limited resources. We are forever thankful for the good care that he recieved from Saint Boniface.

Pipo was very excited to get dressed up for this dinner tonight. He looks forward to it every year. So many people that work in Haiti attend each year, and it is so nice to hear stories about our son when he was small. It's so great for the people there to see a success story too. All of these people knew Pipo when he was very sick, so it is incredible for them to se him happy, healthy and thriving.

And I must say... he is an incredibly good looking kid! (Not that I am a biased mom or anything!

Life in chaosville

2008-10-15T12:10:00.000-07:00

In one of those funny coincidences that life likes to throw at us all, the same weekend that my little niece had a burst appendix, I got a call from the school system. A kindergarten teacher had been rushed to the hospital with a burst appendix as well.

Both patients are home now, and recovering well. I, on the other hand, was thrown straight into the fire of full time teaching again. And I can tell you... I wouldn't recommend teaching kindergarten full time while raising 7 kids and trying to run a house. I'm not sure my family would recommend it either. Not unless substitutes were paid enough to hire a housekeeper... and a cook... and maybe a nanny. But alas, even regular teachers don't get paid enough for that, so it's just me, trying to keep all those balls in the air. With some help from a phenomenal best friend who has picked up the slack (and he cooks too!).

Honestly, I love being back in the classroom, and it's nice to be in one place, where I have gotten to know the kids well, and am able to really come up with my own lesson plans. But the laundry is still there to greet me each night, along with 7 hungry kids, and a house that needs cleaning. Soccer practice, band, chorus, CCD and 4-h are still going, and people need rides to and from. And grocery shopping... it's a never ending cycle. I swear, while we are all out of the house each day, gremlins must come in and eat, because we can't seem to keep food in the house.

So sadly, something's got to give. And it seems to be blogging. I am looking at my camera sitting here by the computer gathering dust, and realizing at the very least that I should try to take pictures. It's a beautiful fall day, and the laundry pile can wait, dinner can be a bit later tonight... the kids need someone to play with, and someone has to be there to remember these moments. So I am holding myself accountable here in print. I am off to play, off to take pictures, and I will make myself post them at some time in the near future.

Shout out and prayers

2008-09-28T18:47:00.001-07:00

This is Tommy with my niece and godchild, Tori. This weekend, Tori was rushed to the hospital with a ruptured appendix. Not a common thing for a 5 year old. She is doing well, recovering from surgery yesterday, and waiting and watching for infection. She is a spitfire of a kid who holds her own with her 2 older siblings, so I have no doubt that she will be up and about in no time. But it's no fun to be cooped up in a hospital when you are just in kindergarten!

Okay then...

2008-09-26T17:44:00.001-07:00

I've been called fairly regularly to sub the last 2 weeks, and it's something brand new everyday. Part of the fun of it for me is having a whole new set of kids each day, sometimes whole new age groups.

Yesterday I spent the afternoon in one of the kindergarten classes. One small girl sitting in the front row during story time was frantically waving her hand. When I finally called on her, she held her hand out to me and said "Mrs. Fitz, I picked some boogers out of my nose... can I go throw them away?"

Childhood memories

2008-09-24T12:53:00.000-07:00

There are childhood memories, and then there are childhood memories. What stands out most prominently from my own childhood, are not just the cool moments, but the people involved in them. Yes there were good friends, cool teachers... but every once in a while, there would me some one that stood out in a different way. In my childhood, that was the mailman and the milkman. Two people in everyday jobs, that could have just gone about there work and never made an impact. But they didn't. They stepped out of their box, and made memories for myself and the other kids in our neighborhood that define what childhood should be.

Our mailman always came by late afternoon, after school was out. Inevitably there would be a neighborhood game in progress, usually being played in the road. When a car came, (which was rare before 6pm when all the Dads came home) we would all yell "CAR" and move the street hockey nets, stickball bases or whatever was out in the road with us. Almost every afternoon, our mailman would take a short break, drop his bag on the nearest lawn, and jump into our game for a moment. We all loved it. No matter whose team he jumped into, we would all scream and cheer as he grabbed the whiffle ball bat, or slapped a tennis ball by our goalie.

Our milkman came by late morning, and before I was school aged, I can remember hearing his truck pull into the driveway. I would race outside as he rolled up the back door to his truck. He would let me climb in, and wait as long as I needed to pick out my favorite icecream flavor. Then he would make a big deal as I helped him carry in all the 'very important' things my mom needed... milk, juice, eggs. He made me feel like his most important helper every time.

I am sure part of this was fun for these guys... maybe a much needed break in a somewhat mundane day. But to us kids, this was the world. It was an adult letting us into their world, taking notice of us, letting us know we mattered.

My kids have lucked out in getting just such a guy in their own lives. Our ice cream man is the stuff of childhood fantasies. From the first day this man pulled in front of our house (when not only were my 7 home, but several neighbor kids) he has treated my kids as if they are his own grandkids. No matter if I happen to have a few spare dollars on me that day or not, he makes sure no one leaves empty handed. He almost always slips me a few extra ice cream bars, and says "For you and your husband... you work so hard for your kids!" He never charges for those extras.

This afternoon, my kids heard the truck coming a mile away, and were dancing around the driveway in anticipation. And what a treat it turned out to be. It was his final round of the season, and he was cleaning out stock. He let the kids pick their favorites from what he had left, and then said he had a surprise for them. He handed me a box overflowing with treats.

The kids all thanked him a million times, dancing around with their ice cream covered smiles. But I don't think they realized what they were thanking him for. The ice cream was gone in minutes. The extras in the freezer will probably be gone by tomorrow after sharing with all our Wednesday night friends. But the memory of today will be there forever. As I have reminisced and told my kids about my mailman, and my milkman... I know all these kids will be sharing the story of their ice cream man with their own kids some day. And what a sweet memory for all of us.

Starting the rounds

2008-09-20T04:21:00.000-07:00

I've been up since 6:30am... no matter that it's a weekend. After taking the last of the soccer gear, (countless pairs of black socks and black shorts) out of the dryer, I begin to fill water bottles. I just dropped Kaleigh off at the highschool to catch the bus to her varsity game, over an hour away. Fitz and I will spend the day tag teaming, getting the rest of the crew to their various games in various towns. I have boy duty today... Charlie's game is about 40 minutes away, and we lucked out... Pipo and E.J.'s game is on the way home, just off the highway. Fitz will be doing TigerCub duty with Tommy and trekking Margaret to the next town over. And so go our Saturdays.

Why do we do it? We both work hard all week, why spend what could be a rare day off shuffling from one field to another, rushing them all from one game to the next? It would be easy to say we love it, but I'll admit there are those mornings we definitely don't. It would be easy to say the kids love it, and I am pretty sure they do. But the reality is, this is one piece of the puzzle of living in a large family.

I want my kids to be able to do anything they want. But the reality is, 7 kids on a teachers salary doesn't put us in that position. And it's not just money... it's time. If 7 kids were doing 7 different activities, there just wouldn't be time enough in the day, or the week to get them all where they need to be. Soccer is such a great sport... it allows them to be with friends, develop skills, stay fit, learn teamwork and determination... but most of all, it's inexpensive and convenient. Many of them practice on the same field. The schedule is organized with families of multiple children in mind... the games are all staggered throughout the day.

And with that thought... I will load up the van. Game on!

Vertical

2008-09-10T11:05:00.000-07:00

Emma is loving second grade and learning all kinds of new things. Apparently, the new word she has learned is "Vertical". And in only the way that 7 year old minds can work, this morning she said "I'm going to find everything that's vertical. What's vertical? Telephone poles are vertical!" Do you know how many telephone poles we pass on our ride to school? 8,472 of them. I know, because that is exactly how many times Emma shouted "VERTICAL!" on our way to school this morning.

First day of ?

2008-09-04T06:56:00.000-07:00

For 11 years now, I have been a stay at home mom. None of our kids have gone to preschool, so they were home full time until kindergarten. Tommy had his first day of kindergarten last week, and there were no tears, not even a misty eye here. It was exhilarating driving away that morning... knowing I had done a good job, shown all my little chicks their wings and taught them to fly.

Pipo and E.J.'s school had not started yet though, so I was still home with them. Today, the boys went off to school with Fitz and I drove the other 5 off to their respective schools, and after a quick doctor's appointment for Kaleigh, I came home to an empty house. After 11 years, I wondered what emotions would be going through my head at this moment. The strongest one was the most unexpected. Not joy, not exhilaration, not sadness, or wistfulness... it was depression. I sit here now wondering who I am all of a sudden. For all these years I have fully embraced the role of "mom". It was who I was.

Now I am fully aware that I am still a mom, but for 6 hours a day now I need to redefine myself. I will be substitute teaching this year, and I know once I get started, I will feel once more like the teacher I was many years ago. But today I have no role... no purpose. It's a hard feeling to sit here with.

I am beyond excited to see who my kids are turning out to be. No sadness here about days gone by, no more babies. But who am I turning out to be? What have these 11 years given me? Who is going to show me my wings?

People always told me I would probably cry when my youngest went off to school. I always laughed at that, and said "no, not me!" But they were right. I just had no idea why I would be crying. It's not the loss of the babies and toddlers... it's the loss of myself.

* * * * * * * *

And on that note, I am going to pirate a cartoon of my brother's... I only wish it was this easy...

Thanks Jim.

Hunger

2008-08-31T05:45:00.001-07:00

We had stopped home for just the night last week, before catching our flight for the West Coast. Fitz had cleaned out the refrigerator while we were away,and it was completely empty so we ordered some pizza for dinner. When it arrived (our usual 2 large cheese, one large meatball) I called the kids up to eat. Pipo was absorbed in the television, and did not come up right away. When he did, the meatball pizza, his favorite, was gone. He came to me very unhappy. I was in the middle of sorting clothes and packing for 9, and had no patience for crying over lack of meatballs. There was plenty of cheese pizza left. I sent him outside to Fitz, who was doing schoolwork on his laptop out on the porch. I continued with my packing, and eventually sent all the other kids up to bed. When Fitz came in later, he told me that Pipo had cried outside for over an hour about that meatball pizza.

My initial reaction was impatience and anger. We were doing all this work to take a great trip, and treated the kids to pizza to make things easier, and this is his reaction? Then Fitz told me another part of the story. When we had arrived home that night, Pipo did the first thing he always does... he went and opened the refrigerator. I didn't think much of it at the time. I knew it was empty, and I told the kids that we would be getting pizza. We didn't need to shop because we would be gone for the week.

Now though, I thought about exactly what this meant to our son. Every time he comes home form anywhere, he looks in the refrigerator. Fitz does this too, and I thought it was just a 'guy thing'. But for Pipo, the need to look in that refrigerator is so much greater. He spent so much of his young life hungry, and he needs to know that there is food available. Even 2 and a half years down the road, he still doesn't always trust that the food will be there.

Before bringing Pipo home, I read everything I could find on adopting older children. There has been much written about food issues, and I myself had taught Russian orphans who had food stealing and hoarding issues. We prepared ourselves for this, and when Pipo arrived, we treated him as the 'new baby' in the house, feeding on demand. I cooked a lot of spaghetti and hot dogs those first few months. We talked to the school about it, sent in lots of snacks and assured him that he could take breaks to eat any time he wanted. it definitely worked, and we never saw any of the major food issues that we had read about.

This pizza incident brought home the fact though, that early food deprivation scars run deep. As Pipo has gotten older, more stories about Haiti come out. He has told us that being so sick wasn't always bad, because at least in the hospital he knew he would get food. At home with his grandmother he couldn't always count on that. I look back at those early pictures of him and see the distended belly, and it breaks my heart to realize how malnourished he was. And I know now, that checking the refrigerator is not a habit... it is a deep internal need that all the love and assurance in the world won't erase.

We bring children into our hearts and homes, and at times we think all our love and affection, and the 'things' we can give them will eventually "fix" all those wounds. But some wounds run so very deep. Some will always be with them. We can do our best to ease them, and help them cope with them, but we will never erase them. The past is something that can't be erased.

* * * * * *

On the same note, please join me in praying for Haiti. The damage cause by hurricane Gustav has just made things so much worse for the people there. Roads have been washed out, crops destroyed and people who have suffered hunger most of their lives are now in an even more desperate situation.

Back from beyond

2008-08-29T19:01:00.000-07:00

Another month has past without a new post, but not for lack of things to write about. Simply for lack of time to write. All told we ended up spending close to 6 weeks at camp this summer, which the kids couldn't have been happier about. At the end, it was incredibly difficult to leave. How do you say goodbye to a place you have come to call home? How do you say goodbye to people you have lived with, laughed with, cried with for such a stretch of time? How do you say goodbye to those same people who have loved and cared for your children as their own? We are just thankful to know what a huge place Windsor Mountain has become in our hearts and that it will stay a major part of our summers in years to come.

We left camp to spend another wonderful week on Cape Cod with family and friends, and then ended our summer with an enormous bang, flying out to the West Coast for the wedding of Shannon, our oldest niece. All 9 of us on a plane, it was quite an experience. The wedding was amazing, held at a gorgeous vineyard outside of Portland, OR. But after the wedding, we spent a few days in one of the most beautiful places I've seen... Manzanita. What a perfect way to end a perfect summer. All 9 of us together, with bonfires on the beach, long lazy breakfasts, and fulfilling Charlie's life long dream, learning to surf!

I have so much in my head, I will try to be posting more in the near future. But as soon as the plane landed in Logan, we were back to reality... school, soccer and all the scheduling that goes with it. So for now, we will look back at the pictures, and remember the magic.

Summer

2008-07-22T13:27:00.000-07:00

It's been almost a month since I've posted, almost a month since I have been home. Our 10 days at camp stretched into 2 weeks, which quickly became 3. We drove straight from camp to the Cape for a few days of R&R before we head back to camp this weekend. I have been splitting my time at camp between the HMO (infirmary) and the kitchen. My time in the kitchen is worthy of an entire post of it's own, and when I have the time and energy in the next few days, I'll do just that.

But the busyness of my days has kept me way from my camera, and I haven't been able to capture the pure magic this summer has been for our kids. I haven't been able to capture the way they have been consumed by independence, even little Tommy running off in the morning at the sound of the bell, eager to start a new day. Or the way E.J. has broken out of his shell, volunteering for a 3 day trip to rural Maine to perform original plays at local libraries. Or how Margaret was so determined to improve her swimming that she took swim class every rotation and was able to pass through two levels. Or how Pipo impressed all the boys from Spain with his header goal in the last minutes of the soccer game. Or how Charlie took a short break from playing sports each and every period to sign up for Japanese lessons (or could it have been because of the cute little 8yo Japanese camper?) Or how Emma immersed herself so much into the girls side of camp she was surrounded by teary friends on the day we left.

I am sad I wasn't behind my camera to capture all these moments, but I know in my heart that my trusty old Canon wouldn't have done them justice. Even the most advanced of cameras can't capture the magic we have seen in the last month. We will head back to camp this weekend, and I will try to break free of my duties a bit and snap a few pictures, but the magic that can't be captured will live on in the hearts of all my kids. They are truly having a summer out of childhood fantasies.

Although we haven't seen Kaleigh in almost a month as well, I am sure that she is experiencing just as much if not more of the magic that the rest of us are. We spoke with her on Saturday, and it was clear that this has been the trip of a lifetime for her. As much as we miss her, I am incredibly thankful that she had this opportunity, and we can't wait to see her next week!

Time

2008-07-22T13:23:00.001-07:00

There is nothing that magnifies the passage of time

Like that of a youngest child

Every time he holds my hand

I fear it will be the last

Freedom

2008-06-24T19:00:00.000-07:00

The young boy pulls his hat down lower, self conscious of his newly bandaged face, of the deep scars visible under the brim of his cap. He is spending the day with a family he doesn't know, and he is nervous and shy. The customs, the people, the language in this country are all strange to him. He runs through the park, following the other kids, but not entirely sure why he is there. Eventually, he is encouraged by their laughter, a universal language, and he joins in their antics, climbing the trees and running through the winding paths created by the shrubbery.

Later, at the strange family's house, he sits quietly off to the side, watching the kids play games that are foreign to him. The lady speaks a few words of Kreyol to him, trying her best to remember the native language of one of her own sons. He nods his head quietly, acknowledging her with a soft "Wi." She points to a rack of bikes in the driveway, and the boy shows some interest, but hesitates, shy again. She holds the bike, and he climbs on. He stumbles, catching himself, rights the bike and tries again. She holds the back of the bike and guides him a ways down the street. Slowly, surely, the boy gains his balance, and wobbles along on his own for a few feet. A few more tries, and he is riding on his own... a freedom he has never known before.

Finally, she sees what she has been waiting for. As he rides down the street, even the hat pulled down low on his face can't hide it. His smile begins slowly with just a hint at his lips. By the time he is riding past her, it has blossomed into a wide grin. For only a moment, the fears, the strangeness, even the new scars from his recent surgery are forgotten. He is a little boy, who has just learned to ride his first bike.

Adopting the older child

2008-06-20T05:33:00.000-07:00

There have been many blogs lately talking about older child adoption. These moms are speaking from the heart, openly sharing there experiences and putting it out there for other parents to read. This post really struck close to home for me, made me think. The same blogger wrote more posts that are beautiful and heartfelt, and explain how each child is so different... there is no way to prepare completely for any child at any age. The more I read, the more I found... parents adopting at all different ages, all having very different experiences, but in so many ways, similar experiences. Blogs like this one, and this one.

Reading all of this made me think about our own experiences. I have always tried to find a good analogy for adopting the older child, and used to explain it as a game of chess... where you are always thinking three moves ahead. But that doesn't explain it fully. Our 'low' times with Pipo are few and far between these days, and much less severe, but they are still there. We had one such moment over the weekend, and Fitz and I spent half a day trying to understand this little boy, trying to figure out where he was coming from, why he acted the way he did. And suddenly it dawned on me. It is like reading a book.

Have you ever read a long, complicated novel? Harry Potter stands out to me. Often in the Harry Potter series, I found myself flipping back chapters, to remember certain scenes, certain conversations between characters to help me understand what was happening in the current part of the book. Much in the same way, I often find myself doing this with my bio kids. When they react to a situation in a different way than their siblings, I can look back through our share of stored memories and understand where they are coming from. Tommy had so many health issues as a baby and toddler; it makes sense that he is terrified at doctor's appointments. Kaleigh had a horrible experience accidently hitting a beehive in the woods with Fitz. She is terrified of bees. She is so much more dramatic at the sight of a bee than any of the others. I have read each and every one of these kids' chapters... I can flip back and remember, and use that information to help me navigate the present.

With Pipo, we started this book many chapters in. Those chapters are gone, cut out of the book, and I don't have them to look back through. Pipo, arriving at almost 9, was old enough to ask about those chapters. Occasionally, memories will surface and he will share them, but we have never experienced them... there are gaps and pages missing for us. Every time something comes up with him, Fitz and I try desperately to understand, we so desperately want to help him through. We do our best, but sometimes, many times, we are working blindly.

All this being said, it is one of the best 'books' we have ever read. I constantly find myself dreaming about the chapters to come... the ones that haven't even been written yet. It's a challenging book, this older child adoption, but one definitely worth the read.

Announcement

2008-06-19T18:20:00.000-07:00

I interrupt this blog for a very important announcement. Pipo and EJ came brought home the 2nd place trophies for Minor League baseball tonight. Pipo has waited 2.5 long years to earn a "big trophy" like the many big sister Kaleigh has. He was not going to let go of that thing. He even managed to ride his bike home from the park while carrying it!

Summer has begun

2008-06-19T06:03:00.000-07:00

Our first trip to the Cape is officially past, having left the day after school got out last week. We arrived home early yesterday, and i set about getting all the unpacking, laundry, and small errands done so we can head out again on Friday. Summers over the past few years have developed a fairly consistent routine here. We head out on an adventure, be it the Cape, camp up in New Hampshire or our annual pilgrimage to Vermont. We come home for a day or two in between, to do laundry and repack. So here we are home for our first 'in between' visit.

I have posted before about how much I love this town. Everything about it, from the fantastic schools, to the great neighborhood we live in, to the coolest little downtown with every great type of restaurant you can imagine. Often, when I am running around, toting various Fitzlings to school or soccer practice, or a baseball game, I see something that reminds me how much I love this town. It could be a group of high school boys playing a game of pick up basketball at the old elementary school building, it could be an elderly couple strolling hand in hand towards downtown, it could be neighbors out doing yard work or chatting over their fences or even watching my own crew racing up and down the street with the neighborhood kids on their bikes. I often look around me and think that this is Norman Rockwell in living color.

Yesterday, as I drove through town running all my little errands, I saw all of those scenes pass by. But this time, it didn't make me feel all warm and fuzzy and nostalgic. The sun was shining, and it was a gorgeous 75 degree summer day, but I was not in a great mood. I wasn't looking around me thinking proudly how this is 'my town... this is where I belong'. In fact, I was feeling very much like I didn't belong.

Suddenly I realized that all my good thoughts revolve around 9 months of the year. 9 months of the year, this is our home, this is where I want to be more than any place in the world, where I want to raise my kids. But these days, those other three months, we don't belong here. We belong on the sandy beaches of Cape Cod. We belong on the cool clear waters of the lake up in New Hampshire. We belong on our old blue bus, traveling down old back roads, laughing and arguing about where we will be next. For 3 months of the year, we belong anywhere but home. And as I drove through town, I realized my foul mood... it was resentment.

These trips home are a necessity though... the taking care of the small details so we can keep on traveling, keep on making our adventures. So I go about my errands, and I push away the resentment. I am thankful for our summers... I am thankful that our lives have brought us to this place, where we can travel about, all 9 of us, having the time of our lives.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

My kids, however, feel none of this resentment. They fully enjoy each and every day of their summer freedom, and decided to throw an impromtu backyard carnival... just to add to our normal Wednesday night chaos. Here are a few pictures from last night.

The apple bob...

The sponge toss...

The marble tournament...

Kaleigh's tatoo parlor...

Charlie's new tatoo...

Tonight...

2008-06-11T09:41:00.000-07:00

at 7:05pm, E.J., along with the Fenn School Treble Chorus, will be singing the National Anthem for the Red Sox game at Fenway park. I don't think life could get any better for a 10 year old boy.

Apologize

2008-06-10T14:25:00.000-07:00

Recently, I recieved a phone call from a neighborhood mother that two unnamed Fitzlings were teasing a younger boy in the neighborhood. When I asked the two culprits, they both confessed quickly to the crime. They were asked to go immediately to their room to each write two notes of apology, one to the little boy, and one to his mother. They did so without questioning. After they were written and inspected, they rode their bikes down to deliver them. The mother called immediately afterwards, surprised, and thankful that I had handled the situation so quickly, and asked about the use of apology notes.

Apology notes are standard here in Fitzville. They have been written for everything to disrespectfulness to a soccer coach at practice, to forgetting a major assignment for a teacher, to breaking the toy of a sibling. A personal favorite note of mine is saved... stashed away in a folder somewhere. This particular child was left in the care of a grandmother while Fitz and I were away. When we returned, said child was up in their room, and Grandma told us she was writing a note, and would be down soon. When the note was handed over it read "Dere Gramma, I sawwy I thwoed da Kat." It was hard to keep a stern face in that instant, and remind the child that tossing the new kitten in the air was not a good idea. But despite the age and lack of spelling skills... the note was written, the point was made. All of our kids have had to write notes over the years (some more than others) The length and content of the note depend on the age of the child. As they have gotten older, they know that it is not a simple "I'm sorry". They need to reflect on why they are sorry... and how they can make it better.

This has worked well for us in so many ways. It is an immediate consequence, it makes them really think about why what they did was wrong, and helps them understand exactly how their behavior affects other people. And as an added bonus, it boosts writing skills! So many times I question my parenting tactics, especially when dealing with the multiple personalities in this house. (The kids... not mine!) But this idea has worked with each and every one of them. The ones old enough to really reflect on it, have even understood that it makes them feel better after writing the note. Works for me.

(Note:the above photo was only used as an embellishment. It in no way implies that the subject in the photo has done anything wrong. In fact this, child never does anything wrong at all. She is a princess. Ask her.)