Last night, I watched a 20/20 piece on the over medicating of America's foster children. I am so angry and so..saddened. I am trying to process it.. but I can't.
We don't give our 7 year old adderall because we are worried about the affects it will have on her, we are finding alternatives and we will do that for as long as we can. Meds will be the last resort, the last option when all else fails. 
Who is standing up for this 5 year old who is on adderall, plus zoloft, plus a drug for bipolar disease plus a sleeping pill? Who is worried about her? Who is the person who cares enough to say.. WTH are we doing?

There is no one.  


This county is so jacked up. People have babies only to abuse and neglect them. Women get pregnant and can't take care of themselves or can't stop using drugs long enough to realize what they are doing to the person whose whole life depends on them. So, what happens? The "State" jumps in to "protect"  the child, except they don't really give a s**t. They (which is us) worship the almighty $$$ and (we allow) our politicians and the doctors WE FUND to have an evil and deadly alliance with the drug companies. 
We poison these kids with  and we do it because it is cheaper than spending money on therapy and rehabilitation. These children are suffering from PTSD, some from mental illness, some from fetal drug and alcohol syndrome. Instead of looking out for them and doing what is best for them, trying to heal their broken hearts and minds, we drug them. 


Shame on us. 


I don't know what to do with how I feel, I couldn't sleep last night, I can't get this out of my mind. My heart is heavy. Right now we have people sleeping in the streets protesting and demanding, who knows what, and we have congress bickering over tax cuts and budget reform. I can't help but feel like none of that matters. We need to wake up. What is the point of any of this if we can't take care of our children? We as a civilization are failing and I don't know what to do about it. 

  "A nation's greatness is measured by how it treats its weakest members."

You tell me.....

http://abc.go.com/watch/2020/SH559026/VD55156221/2020-122-overmedication-in-foster-care

If you watch this...Pay close attention to the guy from the FDA....

Memo To Arnold

I am reposting this because I know a lot of you don't read Fox News..and probably don't subscribe to the Reagan Report... (grin) this is good... take a minute
No matter where we lay on the political line we can agree that the one true and great thing in this world is children. I think so often in the hype of scandal, the ones who get forgotten are the ones who don't get the voice or a quote in the tabloids.
We all can be superheros and so often that comes in the form of simply doing what is right. I hope Arnold stops being a bastard too...along with all the other fathers, mothers and grandparents who are not stepping up to the the plate as well.

Arnold: There Are No Illegitimate Kids, Just Illegitimate Parents.          By Michael Reagan

http://www.reagan.com/news/?memo-to-arnold-there-are-no-illegitimate-kids,-just-illegitimate-parents-553.html

My adoptive parents told me I was "chosen," but the kids at school told me I was a "bastard."

The recent headlines about Arnold Schwarzenegger's infidelities and the son he fathered out of wedlock have stirred many old memories and emotions.

I was four years old when I learned I was adopted. It was just before my sister Maureen's eighth birthday. I told her, "I know what you're getting for your birthday."

"Don't spoil the secret," she said. "If you tell me, I'm going to tell you a secret!"
Well, that was the wrong thing to say! I had to know what she was keeping from me! I said, "You're getting a blue dress for your birthday."

Maureen said, "And you were adopted."


I ran off to find our mother, Jane Wyman, in the den. I asked her, "What does 'adopted' mean?"
Mom's eyes flashed dangerously. "Where did you hear that word?" she asked.
After Mom finished dealing with Maureen, she sat me down and explained adoption to me. "You are a chosen child," she said, "and that makes you special. We love you very much."

I could tell that being "chosen" was a good thing. But I also realized for the first time that Mom wasn't my "real" mother—that I had another mother who had mysteriously given me away.

One day, when I was in the second grade, I got into a playground argument with another boy. We took turns one-upping each other. "I'm better than you," I said. "I'm special 'cause I was chosen! I was adopted!"

The other boy didn't know how to answer that, but the next day he came back to school and laughed at me. "My parents told me what 'adopted' means," he said. "You're not special—you're a bastard! Your real mother wasn't married, so she gave you away—bastard!"

That's when I realized there was something horribly wrong with me. I never again bragged about being "chosen," and I never again felt "special." But I did feel marked.

I wondered, "Why did my birth mother give me away? Was it because I'm a bastard?" I figured Mom couldn't have known I was illegitimate or she wouldn't have adopted me. And I didn't want her to find out!

When I returned home, I went to the library where Mom kept a huge leather-bound Bible. She'd once told me that the Bible had all the answers. I was seven years old and had never read the Bible on my own, so I turned to the back of the Bible to see if there was an index. Sure enough, I found the concordance.
I looked for the word "bastard"—and there it was. The concordance directed me to Deuteronomy 23:2, where I read: "A bastard shall not enter into the congregation of the Lord; even to his tenth generation shall he not enter into the congregation of the Lord."

My heart froze. I thought those words meant, "A bastard can never go to Heaven. A bastard is damned to Hell, and so are his kids and grandkids, down to the tenth generation."
I snapped the book shut—and I didn't open a Bible again for more than twenty-five years. Of course, that verse had nothing to do with Heaven or Hell—but how could a seven-year-old understand such things?

I thought, "That's why my birth mother got rid of me! Nobody wants a child who's going to Hell! And Mom's so religious! If she finds out I'm going to Hell, she won't want me anymore!" So, at age seven, I began to hate myself—and God.

The story of my spiritual and emotional redemption—is in my book "Twice Adopted." But the story I'm thinking about now is the painful story of Arnold Schwarzenegger's son.

I keep hearing chattering heads on TV referring to the boy as Schwarzenegger's "illegitimate" son. It makes my blood boil. Listen, there's no such thing as an illegitimate child. There are only illegitimate parents.

And Arnold, I hope you read this: Your son is not the bastard. You're the bastard. You're the illegitimate parent.

I don't say that to insult you. I say it for your own good. I say it because you need to face these facts. You've been a bastard up till now, but you can change that. You can man up. You can sit down with your son, acknowledge him, apologize to him, admit that you failed him, promise to love him, and begin to protect him from ridicule.

That boy is going to need a lot of love and affirmation from his father. Why? Because the bastards in the media have gone after him, publishing horrible, humiliating stories, putting his picture on the Internet, subjecting him to ridicule at school.

Arnold, you've always played a hero in the movies. But now the whole world knows it was just an act. How would you like to be a real hero for a change?

It is time to stop being a bastard and start being a father.

Michael Reagan is the son of President Ronald Reagan. He is a political consultant, the founder and chairman of The Reagan Group, and president of The Reagan Legacy Foundation. Visit his website at www.reagan.com.Portions of this column are adapted from his book "Twice Adopted."

Jeggings....

I had an interesting experience yesterday..not a GOOD experience  really...but one I thought needed documenting. For the first time in my life, I wondered...am I too old to wear this?...

Sigh.. when did that happen? I am 36 and have had 5 kids and am packing on a little padding where it once was not... true...but I still am pretty damn hot, I have to say. I know my husband is still on the Christi Bandwagon..and shouldn't that be all that matters...shouldn't it?

I do NOT feel old...I feel like I am in my prime...I am confident, I am successful and I am living a dream I never dreamed. Yet.....there is this..

Yesterday I wore a sweater with Jeggings, the sweater covered my butt for the most part..but it wasn't down to my thighs or anything, I definitely had some booty action going on. 

I think looked good, I felt good, and then all of a sudden....I was like..hmmm.....I wonder..

This aging thing is so funny because not only do we have to worry about how we look but, because we are women, we ALWAYS worry abut how we are perceived as well. 

So the question I have is how will I know? Will I know...

How will I know when I am past the "age of acceptance" will I go out gracefully or will I be one of those women. you know.... THOSE WOMEN. 

So...what is the age? Or is there an age? NO, there is DEFINITELY an age... 

I guess I just have to hope that I have at least ONE true friend, and if I am 70 and wearing daisy dukes...(with panty hose), someone will tell me it is time....

So for now, as to the question 

to Jegging or not to Jegging..

I suppose I will take a que from Erin Brockovich 

"... as long as I have one ass instead of two I'll wear what I like if that's all right with you."

And then there is this...

I always knew that Carly Jo was a special one. It seems like from the first day she was with us there has just been ... something about her. As she became a toddler it was OBVIOUS she was going to be a doozy. Always getting into things..going a mile a minute watching every move we made and most of all... NOT overly impressed with the tv, movies, computer. She always is the one in trouble always the one that is living on the edge of that very last nerve of mine. SUPER sweet..super sensitive...and smart..but..not very attentive or an easy learner.

So it really wasn't a shock that in our last parent teacher conference the teacher indicated that she was worried that something wasn't "clicking" in Sweet Carly Jo's brain. Perhaps we should consider getting her tested for ADD. Don't they say that about every kid who doesn't fit the mold? Well..normally I would say yes, but I don't think this teacher is "one of those" as a matter of fact I am quite sure she isn't. And I truly believe she has Carly Jo's best interest in mind and only wants the very best for her. So that helps..

AND PLUS... well I have been living with Carly Jo for 6 years now so, I get it.

Even though that should have been a DUH moment... it still hurt. Who wants to admit that something might be "broken" in their child? Who wants to admit that there is a chance that everything academically is going to be a challenge, a struggle and a fight? Surely not me...but it is time..or is it? Truth is, I love this little kid to the point of actual pain. She is completely unbelievable, at times..not so much in a good way..but most of the time..she is just...I can't explain it. You just really have to know her to fully appreciate...

But back to ADD....

I have no idea where to even start, do I start at the Primary Dr.? And then what do I say? "My 6 year old is having a hard time concentrating." That seems a little ridiculous. Yet it is apparent to me, and everyone around that there is an issue that should be addressed in some capacity.  Do I take her to a phsycologist? A Neurosurgeon? Does it have to be solved with drugs, there has to be a better way..but if drugs end up being the only way.. then can I find a way to be okay with that?

I am going to try and cut out the gluten in our diets..but that is WAAAAY easier said than done. I can also cut out on the processed sugars, there isn't much of that anyway.

I am reading a book now, that a friend gave me on Friday, called Different Learners. That seems like a pretty good place to start, we will see if I can get some good stuff out of there.

I have to find peace with whatever I do, and find a way to find comfort in the fact that we will do the right thing for Carly Jo. And get over this horrible feeling in my gut...is it..Failure? is it defeat? Sadness?

I don't know. I guess I didn't REALLY expect for all my kids to come out perfect....did I? Didn't I?  DIDN'T I??

I read somewhere that most of the worlds top businessmen and inventors have ADD
Some also claim that - Beethoven, Da Vinci, Ansel Adams and Hans Christian Anderson - are all thought to have had it as well...Maybe it is a sign of Genius...

Motherhood

Sitting in the Drs. office waiting for Taylor to finish up her appointment. This office has no internet so I can’t do my homework.. 

it is Tuesday (you know what that means) no kids to bug me, my time for a shower, or to drink coffee in peace and quiet, to reflect, to do homework or clean my house..something by myself for myself to center me in my crazy world. Yet here I sit.  I have been here doing nothing for 45 whole minutes. I HATE wasting my “no kid time.”

SOO, I  blog. ... normally I am not a Dr. kind of girl. I don’t take my kids to monthly well baby checks, I never have. I don’t know how big their heads were or what percentage they were in their age groups at 3, 4, and 5 months. When they have an earache I give them sweet oil in the ear and Tylenol and wait for the body to heal itself, it normally does. UTI’s are the exception to this rule. My girls are prone and those things just flat suck so, we get those straightened out right away. And of course there is the allergy shots, but those cannot be avoided either since Carly Jo is allergic to every tree, every weed, every mold spore and ever dust mite. (did you know there were two types? Well, there is some free education.) I am very happy to say she is not allergic to any food. (even though I started her on milk before the Dr.’s suggested time)  

ANYWAY, where was I? Oh yes, we are on a one time a year schedule, yearly check ups so they can tell me everything is great and my kids are growing nice and tall. I get one, Jim gets one, all the kids get one too!

So that being said, I have the hardest time when one of my kids is complaining about something...should I take them to the Dr. or should I load them up with vitamins and see what happens. Taylor has been complaining about her lower back hurting (left side no appendix scares. So I gave her some ibuprofen and an icepack and told her it was a pulled muscle most likely. Fast forward to day 3, she has woken me up at 4 am for the last two night almost in tears.. okay probably not a pulled muscle, so here we are. 

I am waiting to see what the diagnosis is and to find out, if indeed, I should have just taken her to the Chiropractor,should have skipped the Dr. and should be drinking a Chai Latte right now

It is so hard to know. 


As mother’s we really are expect to have some sort of advanced medical degree, Mom, my leg hurts, whats wrong? Mom, do I need stitches? Mom, how many Advil can I take? Mom, my tummy hurts. Mom, what is this rash? Mom, get this splinter out. 


There are two paths we can follow. Either we become neurotic and drag them to the Dr.. for every sniffle, runny nose, ache and pain ...OR we ignore them and shove them full of vitamins only to realize that they have had Acute Bronchitis for the last month. Both are bad, where is the happy medium? Where is my handbook?  Seriously I think a ton has to be said about following my instincts, but what if they fail me? Sometimes mommy guilt is so overwhelming. 

BUT..back to now... we are at the Dr. and I am waiting, waiting to see if Taylor has a kidney stone, a bladder infection, a pulled muscle or if she just needs to stop drinking monsters and drink more water because she is dehydrated, or stretch before she does her daily 3 mile walk around Overland Park. Part of me is thinking that this had better be serious because I am giving up my two hours of "me time" to sit here in this waiting room, breathing germs and sickness into my body and bathing in antibacterial gel. But the other part is asking the universe to make sure this ISN'T serious. I want my child healthy and happy so she will be able to MOVE OUT OF MY HOUSE, go to college and live a long  and prosperous life, because without that none of this matters.

So annoying. 

I never wanted to be a nurse or a chemist..or detective but motherhood has thrust all these jobs upon me and then some. It is alright though....the pro's still out weigh the cons, for now. 


Check back with me in 10 years that will be the tell.

When did I get so stupid?

If you ask my kids they would tell you I know everything, how? I am a mom, we know everything. It is true, I admit it, I brainwash my kids. I think it is essential that so that as they grow they know they can depend on us, and most importantly they know they can't get one over on us. We need for them to believe we can almost read their minds so that we can get into their  kid brain and help them work through whatever is going on in there.  Taylor, for the LONGEST time would say..HOW do you KNOW these things? I just do..I know everything. Now I have McKenna saying it.
"MY MOM KNOWS EVERYTHING!"
And then, all of a sudden, the teenage child arrives. It was over night and BOOM. A bigger idiot there has never been. (me, of course, not her)  I went from the all seeing- all knowing mom to "that lady that is always talking in the background" and the woman who "knows nothing about this" (or that, or ANYTHING) I am 36 and old fashioned - go figure.
I can't decide if Taylor really thinks that I have no idea what I am talking about, or if she just really doesn't want to admit that I really am as smart as I think I am. She can be very convincing of my stupidity. Maybe she thinks if she admits it, then she loses her Teen Card. (my play on the "man card") I have learned to get crafty with my information seeking, and I have learned that if someone else tells her something, then she will believe it .  The proverb "a wise man surrounds himself with great counsel" is spot on.

There is nothing better than talking to Taylor about something, giving her my opinion  - usually arguing about why I feel that way - and getting brushed off.
No, that isn't the good part, the good part is hearing her say later that "so and so" said.... and hearing my words come out of her mouth!! EPIC WIN!!

I think it is a rite of passage with teenagers, we have to believe that our parents know nothing, so that we can test our wings and move out into the world without fear.
Even knowing that, it is hard not to be offended and take it personally, but I am getting used to it. I have accepted it and I think as long as I choose carefully the adults I put into my kids lives, then it will be fine.
It really is one of the most annoying things, how much drama could be saved if we would just take advice from someone who has been there before us.
Taylor will be 17 in a week and I think, the tide is turning, a little bit. Maybe?

                                           She is so pretty...someone else should tell her that!!!

Airing My Dirty Laundry

Well, actually, all this is clean but you get my point. This is going to be a quick post because I have someone coming over today and OBVIOUSLY...I have to get rid of this mess. right?

We all have little things as moms that we do that we try to hide and pretend aren't there so we can seem more TOGETHER to everyone else. Why do we do that? So much pressure. I am really not that great of a mom sometimes, you know?  SOMETIMES...(my kids go to bed without .... BRUSHING THIER TEETH!) It is true.
Being a mom isn't about having it all together or being perfect, I have a very smart friend who said..."you need both to struggle and to shine" for things to work.  WORD!
So why do we try so hard to pretend like it is never a struggle?

I remember being in a preschool meeting and listening to a woman tell a group of us that she was having SO much fun with her 4 month old twins and her (almost) 2 year old.  FUN?  I could tell all these moms were getting slammed with the guilt, they were tired they were overdrawn..and maybe they only had 1 kid. What was wrong with them.....what where THEY doing WRONG???  I, of course had been there, was thinking to myself...either she has a TON of help (and or drugs)...or she is TOTALLY LYING. There is no way she was having fun, I mean..seriously. Not saying there wasn't moments of JOY...but .... come on.

Truth: she probably wasn't sleeping, wasn't eating, never had a minute to herself and she probably hadn't showered in a full week.  There would have been no shame in admitting well, maybe the shower part she could have kept hidden.  Listen, I had twins while I had an 18 month old ... IT SUCKED, I mean ... SUHU HUCKED. But I made it through and now...look! Sweet bliss....sort of.  Sometimes it is enough to survive.

My point is that if we women were more honest with each other about things then maybe we all would have an easier road and more time for peace in our souls  knowing that we are trudging along just fine.

So I just showed you mine....now think about yours... and EMBRACE IT! It is all good in the hood. Make a decision that you are going to find a new mom and share something with her that...maybe you don't want to...but maybe she would be happy to hear!

I just burned beans while I was writing this, almost started a fire,  so now my house stinks...great...did I mention I have a friend coming over...