It's been awhile...

I haven't really posted since the kid left.  We're getting another kid tomorrow.  It's been a quiet week and a half.  As of 4:00pm tomorrow we will be parents again to a tween girl.  Yes.  girl.  I'm scared.

My house is in shambles because I've had some sort of kidney infection/stone that's kept me in pain and not able to do much but by the time I leave to pick her up tomorrow, this house will be in order.  I hope.

Since we had both rooms set up for boys, Jeff and I had to switch out the room tonight.  So, here it is. The walls are a very light cream that was painted over a lime green and even though we used like 3 coats of the paint and primer paint from Home Depot, it still tends to look green, especially when you put in green items.

I hope she likes it.  I'm very nervous about having a girl.  I wasn't sure if I wanted a girl or not.  I welcome her. 

Saying Good-Bye and Hello

Tuesday we said goodbye to our first foster child.  I did remarkably well.  The plans were for the child to have a psychological evaluation in the morning then go meet mom and the CPS worker at court at 1 and then go home with mom.  I was fine.  I didn't cry.  Lord knows I cried the night before but I swear our SW came in, gathered the child and the child's things with stealth like precision and was in and out in two minutes.  Like ripping off a band aid.  I was fine.  Until I found out thing didn't go as well as we had all hoped but I'm sure things worked out for the best.  That's basically all I can put out into the Blogopshere.

I've kept myself pretty busy.  Met the bestie for lunch Tuesday and we went to see What to Expect.  Hilarious. Good movie.  That evening to keep my husband occupied and to keep from sitting in a quiet and empty house we went to see What to Expect (my husband loves a good chick flick.  I got lucky!) and had dinner.

Yesterday the bestie and I met up with a former coworker for a nice long lunch and then husband and I had dinner with friends.  I decided yesterday that I'm sick of feeling so sick and tired and being so fat. I decided that today I was going to do something different.  Today I have eliminated all sugar (unless it comes from a real piece of fruit), white starches/carbs, soft drinks, juices, high fatty foods, greasy foods, high calorie foods.  I will be doing peach protein shakes made with fat free lactose free milk for breakfast and lunch, snacks will be small natural applesauce cups, and dinner will be a lean/grilled protein and salad.  Don't forget plenty of water. I'm tired of feeling I'm walking through wet concrete every day.

So this morning, after sleeping in a little later than I really wanted.  I laid in bed thinking how much our bedroom could really use a good old fashioned scrubbing, vacuuming, folded clothes need put away, etc.  But I decided to exercise.  I told myself I was going to do 1 mile.  Just one little mile.

I put on a tight compression tank top and some walking shorts, a du-rag (sp?) and headed to the track at the local college.  I drank my shake on the way to the track.  I told myself I was going to do it even if it meant stopping, sitting down, taking breaks, and even if it took an entire hour I was going to get this mile in.

Here I am driving to the track:

Yeah.  I'm sexy and I know it.  NOT!  But still, I didn't give an EFF.  I am what I am and I am fat.  I'm on my way to do something about it.  Who cares who sees this and what they think of me.  That's their problem. 

So, I step foot on the track.  It's a gravel track.  Now I have Rheumatoid Arthritis and my feet have been greatly affected, to the point where the bones have already started to deform, not to mention the extra 150 pounds I'm carrying on them every single day.  I was able to do two laps equaling a half mile (only had to sit down for 5 minutes between trips) in roughly 25 minutes.  The gravel killed my feet.  Each step was so painful.  So I decided it was okay to stop.  "Work yourself up to a mile, Allison."  "You did more than you normally do" blah blah blah.

I justified how I'll do a half mile for a week then next week work up to a mile and blah blah blah.  Either way I looked at it, I was letting myself down.  So, I drove over to the high school track and football field.  The track there was paved so I decided I could do two trips around to finish my mile.  It was a lot easier on my feet.  Not nearly as painful as the previous half mile had been.  So, in a little under one and a half hours, I spent 45 minutes walking a mile.

I may not get my room cleaned today.  My feet are killing me.  But I exercised.  I started out wanting something simple: to walk a mile and even though I tried to quit, I didn't. 

I know some of you are thinking, "come one it's a frigging mile.  Who can't walk a mile?"  Well, until three hours ago I would have told you I couldn't walk a mile. But I did.  It took awhile.  It hurt. I huffed and puffed and I'm now sun burnt (damn Irish complexion) but I did it. 

So now I'm going to go get a hot shower, put on some comfy clothes, have my lunch, drink more water (I've not even had 16.9 ounces of water yet..can you say holy dehydration headache??).  I may go back this evening with my husband and do another half mile.  Each day I will make as many trips to the track as necessary to get a mile in until I'm able to to a mile at one time without stopping.  I'll continue to work up to longer/father. But until then, I'm not going to beat myself up and I'm not going to short change myself.  I saw that I was able to do a mile. Yes I had to take a good 20 minute break in between each half mile but I did it.  One foot in front of the other with Jill Scott crooning on my ipod. 

This week I may have said good bye to the kid but today I said hello to myself.  I'm proud of myself.  Now, I'm off to hit the showers.

Apologies

I was in a horrible mood yesterday.  I went with my little family out to eat and I was feeling very upset about my current physical condition.  The space between seating areas was not big enough to make me feel comfortable.  I was angry at myself for allowing myself to get to this position and even angrier still for not committing myself to do anything about it.  Sure I've managed to lose 11 pounds in the last month but when you are MY size, 11 pounds is a drop in the bucket.

I was feeling low and miserable and I did something that I am very ashamed of and have, rightfully so, taken must criticism over on Twitter and even some Anonymous comments on here that I refuse to publish.  I would publish comments of people who are man/woman enough to use their real names as I am being woman enough to come here to apologize and admit to my lapse of judgment.

Misery loves company and we've all been guilty of looking at someone who is "worse off" than ourselves and thinking, "I might be (fill in the blank) but at least I'm not that."  To say you haven't is not being truthful.  Yesterday, I took a picture and posted to twitter of someone who was a little worse off than me in the weight department with the comment, "may I never get that big."  It was wrong.  I offer no excuses.  I would die if I knew someone had done the same to me without my knowledge.

What I saw was it could get worse if I don't get serious.  And what you people who have come here or on Twitter to voice your hatred/anger/disgust/name calling don't realize is I'm a very morbidly obese person myself.  I don't post pictures nor do I really discuss the seriousness of my weight issues because of embarrassment.  But to, in a pitiful attempt at rectifying a very horrible thing I did, I'm owning up to myself right here.  Right now.

This is me (12/31/11)

It's one of the few pictures I have of myself saved on this computer to post.  I don't allow many pictures to be taken of me and my over 300 pound self.  Yes. I said it: I'm just a tad over the 300 pound mark and it makes me sick.

I took down the tweet yesterday within minutes of posting it because I realized how horrible what I had done was.  However, it was not before it was retweeted and the "you're an asshole" tweets started rolling in.  I've been called a "bitch", "asshole", and the C word.  I completely understand the vitriol.  What I did was disgusting and wrong.  It was the act of a severely insecure woman who was looking for a scapegoat.

So, you can go ahead and tweet me your hateful thoughts and leave comments here.  I'm not saying I don't deserve them. But what I'm saying is, I'm not a "horrible" person.  If I was I wouldn't have removed it.  I wouldn't be here accepting responsibility.  I wouldn't be addressing the issue at all.

I was wrong. 

The End.

Our Last Weekend

We (read I) had so much planned for this weekend since it's the kid's last weekend with us.  It all started on Friday. The SW came over for a visit and while he and I had initially discussed not telling the kid until Monday about leaving.  Well after he thought about it a bit, the SW felt it was best for the kid to break the news to have time to process it with J and I.  I completely agree.  The kid took the news wonderfully.  The kid appears to be happy to be going home to mom. 

Friday kid and I bought additional pieces to a video game that we purchased earlier and then we went to Hibachi's for dinner.  Dinner didn't set well with me little did I know that the "bug" I thought The Kid had been faking to avoid school this week was um REAL.  Saturday I woke up dead.  The Kid had puked once on Tuesday night.  Reportedly puked after lunch at school on Wednesday and I got a call to come get this kid (I say "the kid" not disrespectfully but rather to avoid disclosing gender) from school because of vomiting.  I seriously thought it was an attempt at getting out of school so the kid was sent to bed until lunch, we ate lunch, kid thought kid could continue to stay downstairs but mama sent kid back to bed.  Therefore on Saturday, kid got revenge on mama in a way :-)

Saturday the original plans had been going to The Wow Factory where we would paint pieces of pottery so I will have something to remember the kid by, dinner with friends and movies.  What actually happened Saturday:  mama begged the Lord to keep her from puking while using a roll and a half of Charmin.  I spent four hours begging and pleading with God to keep from throwing up by 9:30am I finally threw up and felt 200% better, except for the running to the potty.  So, while I was in bed praying to die, J and the kid went to lunch (Chinese buffet) then to visit Jeff's friends Jim and Amy before J and the kid went to see a movie.

The rest of the day was mama holding the chair down, dad helping mama feel better, and kid playing video/computer games. 

Today I was still feeling kinda icky so instead of going to church we went to The Wow Factory.  I had never been there before.  There are pre-made pottery pieces of all kinds that you paint and they fire and when you get them back they are works of art!  Jeff and I decided that each child will make us something either when they first get here or before they leave so we have something to remember them by.  So that's what we did today.

I made the WV flower and the kid painted me the turtle and the dinosaur for the kid to keep.  The kid was ready for it to be over with before I was done painting so Jeff took the kid to Walmart to purchase the bag we'll pack the kid's things in Monday so I could finish my painting.

We then went to Home Depot to pick out a new ceiling fan and came home.  Once the kid went to bed I broke down sobbing.  It's going to be a hard day when we say goodbye.  But the kid still feels excited to go back to mama.

This week is going to be difficult.  After HD I brought the kid and J back to the house and I went to get a haircut.  The girl who cut my hair had been a foster child and adopted by her foster parents.  She graciously shared her story and let me know the kid will remember me always.

Thank you God for this child and for putting some random former foster kid into my life at the EXACT period of time when I needed it all the most.

To God be ALL the Glory.

God Is Good

God is Good.

Let the Church says, "ALL THE TIME!"

There's only so much I can reveal on this blog given the nature of our family, but today I need to "talk." 

Mary was just plugging along in life.  She had a direction.  A plan.  She was going to marry Joseph.  I'm sure she was excited like all new brides but her path was about to take a drastic turn.  Mary had been ordained for a greater purpose than just being Joseph's wife.  God had a plan for her.  This plan was something that He knew would take a woman with a strong heart, one who could withstand ridicule and judgment.  A woman who had the compassion and the fortitude to accept a child who was not her husband's.  A woman who was strong enough to be pregnant prior to marriage.  When God felt it was the appropriate time, God sent the angel Gabriel to tell Mary the news.  Luke 1:26-28 is where we find Gabriel appearing before Mary and telling her that she will be the vessel from whom the Savior will be birthed. 

Gabriel has been considered the angel of maternity and dreams.  She announced the birth of Sampson and appeared to Zacharias and his wife letting them know they would welcome the man who was to baptize the King of all Kings.  She was with Daniel helping him to understand the dreams he had.  And just as Gabriel was there to usher into and announce to the world the birth of the man who had come to save, it is believed she will be the one to sound the trumpet to usher Jesus back to the world on Judgment Day.  Gabriel, an angel of the Lord, brings forth hope, new life, and comfort. 

Without taking the time to go back, yet again, through my story, I'm going to focus on my testimony.  When becoming a mother became something that I never thought was possible for me, God wrote a verse on my heart, "For I know the plans I have for you.  Plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."  Jeremiah 29:11.

I grew up in the church but I never gave it much thought.  I became disillusioned by the hypocritical manner in which many of its members as well as other professors of Christ portrayed Christ and the Church.  But over the past several years I've made my way back.  I've come to see the things that happen in my life have been ordained.  My path has been ordered.  My steps have been counted.  God has a plan for me, for my husband, for our family.  He wants us to not suffer but to be hopeful and have a future that will bring glory and honor to Him.

The decision to become foster parents wasn't easy.  I agonized about how difficult our first placement would be.  So many questions clouded my mind. But along with Jeremiah 29:11, I also heard, "peace be still."  I knew that regardless of how it went I wasn't going to be alone.

A little over a week ago God sent my husband and I an angel.  This angel came to tell  me to prepare to be a mother.  This angel came to let us know that the child we will raise will not come from myself or my husband.  This angel came to help me see the worst and the best in myself.  I've struggled.  I've complained (a lot..it's my nature).  But I've also loved in a way I never knew possible.  I've worried in ways and about things I had never known were things to worry about.  I'm a worrier anyway but this was different. 

My home felt fuller of life.  My heart felt fuller.  I've never been so happy, so appreciative, so troubled, so annoyed, so frustrated, and so exhausted in my life.   I've wondered if I'm supposed to be a mother.  Why don't I feel maternal?  Why am I so frustrated? Why don't these teachers see in this child what I see?  I guess those questions are normal, or as normal as possible for someone in my shoes. 

Soon we'll be saying goodbye to our angel.  I'll pack up clothes and personal treasures the child didn't have before coming to stay with us.  I will write this angel a letter in a journal so when those times of frustration, worry, and fear come, maybe my words can be of comfort. 

Once I learned this placement would be for just a short bit in my life, I tried to save myself the heartache and not develop an attachment.  Then last night before bed, after several days of being here, I finally got a bedtime hug.  A gesture of trust from a beautiful soul. 

I do not know what those eyes have seen.  What those ears have heard.  But I know that since coming to stay with us, those eyes have been able to close for a peaceful sleep and those ears have heard the care and compassion we have in our hearts.  Telling the child it is time to move on will probably go down in my world as one of the worst/hardest things I'll have ever done.  I'll be sending this angel away with the prayers of a mother. 

Lord, bless this child. Comfort this child.  Help this child understand the changes that are coming.  Let this child know that, maybe for the first time in life, this child was loved.  May this child leave our home with fond memories that at the age of 40 will still bring a smile to an angelic face.  Lord heal my broken heart as I spend this small amount of time giving this child a normality perhaps never experienced before.  Give me strength to say goodbye and give me the knowledge that this child is going to be okay.  Just give this child the same promise you've given Me. God I ask you prosper this child, give this child hope and a future.  Thank you for sending me this angel and showing me how hard motherhood is, what I need to change in myself, and for preparing me for what my future holds.  Amen.

Right now, I'm crying the tears of a mother.  I've had many cries in my life. Cries that seemed to come from deep in my soul, but this time it's different.  This time I'm crying as a mother. It's a whole different cry from a whole different kind of pain from a whole different place in my soul.  But we're going to be alright.  All three of us.

Mother's Day

This year was my first Mother's Day.  It was kind of awkward and wonderful at the same time.  All the mothers were called to the front of the church and each child/husband/or another member of the church if your children weren't there presented each mother with a rose. My child was the first to come up and give me a rose. And a hug.  I had to turn my head to keep people from seeing my tears.  Here is this precious child so deeply uprooted from a previous life that was so difficult and had only known me for a week but wanted to give me a rose and a hug.

The church had a dinner afterwards for the moms but I could tell my child wasn't really wanting to stay.  I think all of the mother talk caused some sadness so we went out to eat at my favorite place.  The child had never been there before but loved it.  Since it's my favorite place and we go there a lot the owners know we don't have children and we hadn't told them we'd become foster parents so they were a little surprised to see a tag-a-long. I'm still awkward on how to approach people who don't know us or our situation on how to explain our new addition.  I simply explained what the child's name was and that the child had come to stay with us.  The child said, "I'm living with them because I'm in foster care."  The owner looked at me and smiled and gave me a flower. 

Usually with foster care the parents don't know how long they will have the kids.  Usually it is expected to be a minimum of six months.  We know how long we'll have this child.  It won't be six month.  Our situation has been a little different than most "normal" fostering situations.  But while it has been a huge shock to my system and a major adjustment, I'm glad we made the decision to be foster parents. 

I've had a hard time adjusting to having someone in the house.  I'm also at the point where my RA treatment is overdue and I'm not feeling well.  I should have received my treatment last week and when I have to prolong it I don't feel well.  So it's been difficult but not impossible. 

I know from a dear friend who is also a foster parent that it takes time to adjust and to feel like a family.  I know that just a week and a day into this placement it's not out of the ordinary to feel so disconnected still.  I feel like the babysitter and not the mom.  But I also know that I won't have the time to develop that relationship.  It wasn't in the cards for this placement.  But I've learned a few things.

My mom always said, "you have no idea how much children change your life until you have them."  And she's right.  It's been a difficult adjustment but while it's been hard and awkward and sometimes weird, it's not going to keep me from continuing to foster and eventually to adopt.  I'm a new parent just as all new parents only my child came with a history, a personality molded by trauma, and independence and habits. 

It's been a learning experience and I'm thankful for it.  I don't look forward to saying goodbye when the time comes but I do look forward to the other children we'll be able to help, love, and maybe make ours forever.  I just need to realize that each child does take time.  There will always be adjustment periods and that it is okay to feel awkward.

Childhood Memories

It's funny what you remember from your own childhood.  I was just in the shower thinking about the life of the child in my life and how different our lives have been.  This child has had a more difficult life than I did and I'm going out on a limb and say even a sadder life than I had. Then I started thinking about what kind of memories I have when I was the same age.  What was the saddest memory I could remember.  The irony is funny to me.

As I was taking a shower I thought back to when I was the age this child is and one sad memory really stood out, all these years later.  I remember it was Father's Day and the church I was raised in lays claim to celebrating the first Father's Day ever.  My job that day was to pin carnations on the lapels of fathers.  I had to ask, "is your father living or dead."  Men with living fathers got red carnations while men whose father's had passed on received white ones.  I hated asking the question. It was really easy when the really old men came in.  If the man in front of me looked like Moses I assumed his dad was already with God so they automatically got white carnations.  Then came my father.  His father passed when he was the age of the child in my home.  I didn't have to ask him, I just automatically pinned a white carnation on his lapel. 

I'm sure you're wondering why this is a sad memory for me.  Well, he asked me,. "why do I get a white one instead of a red one?"  It broke my heart to explain to him, a man who had many years to accept the fact his father had passed, that he was getting white because his father was dead.  I'm sure it didn't bother him and I'm sure he probably doesn't even remember this but I do.  I remember how much I wish I could have put a red one on him.  I knew it made him stand out a bit from the others.  At that age I hadn't experienced death yet so to me it was weird and hard to understand but I knew it was a sad thing.

Funny what we remember isn't it?  I have a child in this house who would probably give up every toy/video game/fun thing to have that simple, silly sad memory from this age. 

Now, as a 36 year old woman who has experienced loss and knows it's just a part of life, I look back on that Father's day years ago and think, 'what a stupid idea. shouldn't they have just gotten a flower based on the fact that they were fathers and not whether their fathers were alive or dead?'

Adjustments

Monday morning at 11:00 am my phone rang.  I'm not embarrassed to say I was still kind of asleep as last weekend had really worn me out.  I saw the number was from our agency and I thought it would have to do with a previously presented situation and working out the specifics of a child we had already agreed to accept into our home.

Wrong.

I sat is groggy silence as I heard the social worker describe the child who needed us.  What this child had been through.  Were we willing to accept this child?  Yes!  I then had to wait to make sure the DHHR agreed to us as foster parents and not more than fifteen minutes later I was on the phone sobbing to my mother about how I was about to become a mother and I was scared.  Petrified.  But I cried mostly for what this child had been through and how brave this child must be to have told teachers what had happened over the weekend.  The same weekend my husband and I were galavanting around having the time of our lives this child was suffering unspeakable things.  Lord help this child.

J came home early and we went to the department to pick up our child together.  J took the next day off of work (which happened to be election day which meant no school) and we tried to bond as a family of three. 

This placement has been very easy.  It's almost eerie how easy it's been.  I expected anger, fighing, defiance and instead what I've gotten is a child who is fearful of anything but pleasing adults because of what the child perceives as natural consequences to not pleasing adults.  I received a child who says, "please" and "thankyou."  I received a child who opens doors and asks permission before doing things.  A child when told Facebook was not allowed did not put up a fight but rather said, "Okay."  I never imagined it would be THIS easy.  This child is amazing.  But still I struggle.

I struggle with when will I feel less like a babysitter and more like a mom?  When will I be able to develop that bond?  I don't know. I know it takes time and honestly time is not on our side this time.  I'll explain that statement at a later time as I need to process it myself.

But for the past five days my home has been filled with cartoons (I'm surprised at the large numbers of Asian-esque cartoons there are) and video games.  Dropping a child off at school (which means waking up at an ungodly hour each morning) and picking up the child.  Attending meetings about the child's education in the next school year.  Being so angry at the stance of the child's teachers yet knowing myself well enough to keep my mouth shut or run the risk of Madea coming out (I have decided that when Bruce Banner gets angry the Hulk comes out, when I get angry Madea comes out).  Then feeling guilty that I sat there, angry at the description and marginalization of the occurrances my child has faced and didn't defend the child or put these "educators" in their places.  But instead I spoke with the social worker who was also angered who spoke to the department worker who was also angered.  It made me feel good to know I wasn't overreacting in the situation just because I have a bleeding heart.  I did drop some "I"ve $100K in debt becoming a therapist so I know a little something/something about counseling" on these teachers and that kind of did change the way they spoke to me.  It was the best way I could give them an well-educated finger.

The awkwardness is still every bit as present as the first day, if not more so.  But hearing how well the child slept the first night, "Better than I've slept in a long time" because the child finally had a real bed to sleep on told my heart that we made the right decision to become parents.

We got more information yesterday that we're processing.  Throughout this process we've seen how God has moved through our marriage, even in times of loss, to prepare us for this that is His plan for us.  The information we got yesterday, combined with the name of our child and the biblical meaning of that name shows me that God has ordanined all of this in His time. 

That's all I can really say right now.  I don't mean to be cryptic but yet I must be. Just know things are going well.  We're making it one day at a time.

My First Mother's Day

This Sunday will be my first Mother's Day.  We have been parents since Monday afternoon.  So far it's been a very easy transition.  We have one child.  I can't give specific information and since I don't want to divulge the sex/age/name of our child I'll choose a "generic" neutral name.  Taylor sounds good enough.

Taylor is in middle school and because yesterday was election day T didn't have school so we took Taylor to school this morning.  It went well.  We are really enjoying have T with us.  I know all my friends and family are dying for more information but I simply must protect T's privacy.  As soon as I figure out how to blog our lives without revealing any specific info regarding T I will. 

But in the meantime, just know that I'm going to relish in being a mama even if T only calls me "Allison" at this point. 

Catching You Up!

Sorry I've been MIA.  It's been a busy week (or two).  My best friend's family and I prepared for a yard sale.  I hate yard sales. They are so much work.  I don't go to them (honestly only because I don't get up that early on the weekends). 

We were to start at 8am.  We started setting up at 6:30 and my 7am we had our first customers when we didn't have but maybe 1/4th of our stuff out.  It was a 10% chance of rain and you know what that meant:  it sprinkled all morning! 

We did very well.  We had a lot of nice things and the weird thing is the things I thought would go didn't and the ones that I figured would still be around sold.  Isn't that how it always goes?  By 1 we became Walmart and rolled back prices by 50%!  By 2pm we were telling people, "Just make any offer on anything!"  We all were soooooo tired and over it.  My husband and I had only gotten three hours of sleep so we were exhausted.  The humidity was high and my RA was really flaring which made me pretty much a lawn ornament while he lifted, moved, and followed my direction.  But even though it spit rain most of the day and the humidity was horrible, we had a great time.

Now, it's not a real Tomasek/Masters family event if there isn't some kind of "This Can Only Happen To Us/No One Would Ever Believe This" thing doesn't happen and yesterday's yard sale was no different.  We had to call the police on a drunk shoplifter.  I kid you not. 

Ginger had noticed him and went to talk to him and he expressed he was homeless (an very, very drunk) so she gave him a duffel bag with a couple of pieces of clothes.  He apparently then decided that we were his own personal Goodwill so he grabbed another bag and started filling it with all kinds of stuff.  Ginger finally called the police after he refused to leave and started filling Rubbermaid containers with random stuff. 

When the HAWT policeman got him to leave, we went through the stuff he was trying to take and he had tried to take two books on serial killers!  (You can see we ran out of room so we just left a lot of stuff in containers!  We had tables that we also had for sale and they sold first thing so we ran out of table space!)

Once the sale was over, it was off to Morgantown for my husband's first tattoo.  It took 3 hours.  I've never spent a Saturday night in a tattoo parlor before.  Our friends Jim and Amy were with us.  We had fun and my husband now has some pretty awesome ink!

The very start

Finished outline

it's done!

He's very happy.  After the tattoo we had a very quick dinner at Chili's and then went to see the Avengers in 3D.  I had only had 3 hours of sleep so I was getting very tired and grouchy.  I learned last night I cannot stomach 3D movies.  I got motion sickness and then tried to watch without the glasses and the blurriness made me even sicker and I finally left the theater and waited in the lobby.  I thought the movie was awful.  It's just not my kind of thing.  We finally got home at 1am. I was pooped!!  I was so cranky I looked like this:

Today Jeff had to run into work and update some computer software and I slept until 11.  He's on his way home and we're going to go see The Lucky One. I've already seen it but he's dying to see it.

Some other random photos:

Night before yard sale

Farty loved the boxes we used to store things!!

What else has been going on here lately?  Oh yeah, I know......

WE ARE NOW LICENSED FOSTER-TO-ADOPT PARENTS!!

Yep, we're just waiting on a placement and word on the child we'd like to adopt!!!