tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42057316621081427112024-02-06T23:49:04.113-05:00Kate's WishEvery family is unique and has its own story...this is the story of our family, brought together through the dual adventures of childbirth and adoption. It all started with seven year old Kate and her heartfelt wish for a sister...alphamamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08800623490932946151noreply@blogger.comBlogger336125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205731662108142711.post-86478730514574684182017-10-18T23:33:00.000-04:002017-10-19T17:34:20.919-04:00The day you ran away from home, Take TwoI really thought that we were just going to the mall for job hunting, a little shopping and lunch. Stupid me. I really wanted to spend time just with you, to try to reach you, to give you hope and support since I knew you were struggling. I thought you needed that, time with your mom. Foolish, gullible me. I loved having time for just the two of us, a rare treat...and after the last several months, it was much needed.<br />
<br />
We've had our trials and tribulations over the past year, haven't we? You left us once, flying from the nest to explore the big, wide world on your own...we tried to be supportive, to let you make your own choices and mistakes. The end result was a learning experience (or so I thought). In the span of a few months, you lost your job, you got kicked out of school and eventually lost a place to stay. In the end, you found your way back home again and we hoped you were a bit older and wiser. You had a new boyfriend who we actually liked. You got a new job. We were more hopeful. You even came downstairs and talked a bit instead of hiding in your room. It was so nice to have you home, to have my daughter back! I wish it could have lasted... <br />
<br />
Sadly, the next few months didn't go so well after all. You were home in body but not really present. You were secretive, even dishonest, to us and to your boyfriend. You lost 3 more jobs. money started disappearing around our house and also the neighbor's house. You denied and denied, expressed shock and outrage that we would accuse you...then finally admitted stealing from us all. It was a stunning blow but we survived. You started therapy and we prayed that would help. At least I thought it was helping; that's what you told me while we were at the mall...just hours before you ran away, making your carefully planned escape from our family.<br />
<br />
Why? Because we pushed you to get a job? (Yes, we pushed, I admit it. We've always told all of you that as young adults in this house, you had to either work or go to school.You made it clear that school was off the table so...) Because we held you accountable for your bills? No rent, mind you...just your cell phone bill and your car insurance, less than $200 a month. We thought holding you accountable for those things would help you learn responsibility, would prepare you for self-sufficiency. We were so naive...and genuinely perplexed when you refused to be responsible. Instead, you chose deceit and theft as lifestyle choices, options that never occurred to us.<br />
<br />
It was so unlike you, this surly, unmotivated, duplicitous, entitled person who took advantage of others...you had always been our hard working girl, always with an incredible work ethic. Surely this was just a phase and with enough love and support, you'd be back to yourself! So we kept trying to trust, even after the theft of hundreds of dollars, even after the bold-faced lies upon more lies. We wanted to believe you when you said therapy was helping you. We wanted to believe that you were in fact searching for a job on line but not having any luck. Even in my frustration, I felt bad for you, thought maybe I had been too hard on you, maybe you just needed some help with the process. That's why on that sunny Saturday, I said I'd help you job search, there were recruiters for seasonal work all over the mall. I was sure you'd find part-time employment and could turn things around, be more self-confident and proud of your accomplishments once more.<br />
<br />
How was I to know we were working from completely different scripts? How was I to know the whole day was a lie? Putting your name in for interviews, giving contact information to store managers...all just a sham, an act to keep me off your back. Do you remember what you said to me that day? "As long as it makes you happy, Mom..." Even as you said that, you already had one foot out the door. You already had an airline ticket for that very night. You already knew you were leaving the state and had no plans to come back. Even lunch was a lie...I thought we were sharing a mother-daughter meal at the mall. I was planning to treat you and your brothers to dinner out as well. I had no clue you didn't plan to stick around for dinner. You were on your way to the airport at 4:45.<br />
<br />
We got home at 3:00 and I felt so good about the day. I thought maybe we had turned a corner, maybe in the next few days you'd be more open. Your Dad and sister were in Florida for the weekend, visiting your grandmother...I thought you and I would have more time together while they were gone. I was clueless, wasn't I? An hour later, you came to me to break the news that you were leaving. You had a boyfriend in Florida, an online boyfriend who you had never actually met but you were sure he was a great guy. He must be since he bought you an airline ticket, right? I tried to tell you that you weren't being safe. I asked you if you knew the definition of the term "Catfish"...you said you would be fine. Just for a couple of days, you said...that was a lie, too. It was a last minute surprise for his birthday, you said...another lie, wasn't it? The only thing last minute about any of this was telling me. I asked if you had packed a bag and you magically appeared with two, obviously packed earlier...before the mall and a dozen other lies and omissions from the day. In the end, there wasn't a thing I could do to stop you. You're 20 years old...all grown up and making your own choices, no matter how ill advised in your mother's eyes.<br />
<br />
You were gone from our home within 45 minutes, a string of secrecy and deceit trailing behind you that's still paining those you left behind...like your sister who can't understand why you couldn't even say goodbye. Like your Dad who you still haven't even texted. (You're his brown-eyed girl, always will be...but that doesn't mean anything, does it? The fact that he's struggling with your choices means nothing, right?) Like your brothers who don't get any of this, who wonder what happened to you. Like your boyfriend here who didn't have a clue that you were cheating on him for months. Like the friends and neighbors who love you and worry about you, who ask me almost daily if you're ok. And then there's me...your mom who had to break the news to everyone else, including the young man whose heart you broke. Do you remember telling me on that Saturday that you didn't want to hurt him? You left that to me to do, didn't you? You avoided his calls, ignored his texts, even when you knew he was leaving flowers at our door for you. Do you know what he said when I finally had to tell him what you had done? He didn't get mad...he didn't swear or call you names. He said that he hoped that you were safe.<br />
<br />
You've been gone about a week and a half. You've shut down your Facebook and locked other social media accounts. I have an address and phone number which you gave me begrudgingly before you left that may or may not be valid. We know nothing about your boyfriend, where you're living or what your plans for the future are. You've made it clear that you don't want us to know what's happening in your life. That's your choice. Don't expect us to approve of your lies, of the terrible deception that brought us to this point. Don't expect us to pretend that we're not hurt. We feel abandoned and betrayed; we don't understand why you did this. We always tried to teach you that honesty was best even in the toughest situations; why couldn't you trust us enough to be honest? <br />
<br />
And yet...we love you and always will. We crossed an ocean and half of the planet to make you our daughter. Nothing will ever change that for us, not even this. We wish you the best and hope you find what you're looking for in life. We hope someday you'll be able to put aside lies and deception and really face life honestly. Maybe then, you'll find the peace of mind and happiness that you deserve. You're in our prayers...alphamamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08800623490932946151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205731662108142711.post-13435880426341510422016-10-15T00:22:00.003-04:002016-10-15T00:22:35.398-04:00Leaving...I waited until 11pm because that's what I had promised you. I wasn't really surprised when you didn't come home...again. You haven't spent a night at home in a while. It seems that sleeping in your car (or who knows where) is better than being here. Wasn't surprised when you didn't text me your plans. Avoiding communication is par for the course for you lately.<br />
<br />
Earlier today, you asked me if we could go back to the way it used to be...and my answer was no. Crystal clear answer to me but it seemed like a surprise to you. Not quite sure why since to be honest, "the way it used to be" has basically sucked for a while now. It broke my heart to tell you no because you're my son and my instinct is to try to keep you safe. <i>You don't know how much I wish I could turn back the hands of time and make this better!</i> Sadly, between your abuse of drugs and alcohol, your anger and emotional abuse, and your refusal to get help, having you here means the rest of the family is at risk. As much as I love you, I can't allow you to stay here until you're ready to get therapy and medication.<i> I hate this...but I will always love you. My son is still in there somewhere. I refuse to give up on you!</i><br />
<br />
I've packed your clothes, stripped your bed, shed more than a few tears as I've reminisced about the years I've been privileged to be your mom. I'm ready to let your 21 year old self go, not because I don't love you but because I do. It's time to fly from the nest...I hope you will find your way in the world safely. Please don't forget where home is...we'll be here if you need us.<br />
<br />
With all my love,<br />
Momalphamamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08800623490932946151noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205731662108142711.post-76138586004020277592016-03-11T11:50:00.004-05:002016-03-11T11:50:58.901-05:00Mom's manifesto<i><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>
</b></span></i><h1 class="western">
<i><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></i></h1>
<h1 class="western">
<b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><i><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"></span></i></span><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Raising kids is never easy. Raising young adults is harder still. All but gone are the cute and cuddly times; hugs and heartfelt talks are in short supply, too frequently replaced by angst and eye rolling. As a mom to 5 teens/young adults, I am often accused of not loving enough, not trusting enough, not caring enough, not understanding enough. Stumbled upon this quote that clarifies my position nicely! The author is unknown...too bad because I'd love to have coffee with her. </span></span></span><i><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></i></b></h1>
<h1 class="western">
<i><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></i></h1>
<h1 class="western">
<i><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">My
promise to my children: for as long as I live, I will always be your
parent first, and your friend second. I will stalk you, flip out on
you, lecture you, drive you insane, be your worst nightmare, and hunt
you down like a bloodhound when I have to, because I love you. When
you understand that, I will know you have become a responsible adult.
You will never find anyone else in your life who loves, prays, cares,
and worries about you more than I do. If you don't mutter under your
breath ''I hate you'' at least once in your life, I am not doing my
job properly.</span></span></i></h1>
<i><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>
</b></span></i><i><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><br />
<span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u> Unknown
quotes </u></span></span>
| added by: <span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u>Guardian</u></span></span></b></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u> </u></span></span></b></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>
</b></span></i>alphamamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08800623490932946151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205731662108142711.post-73149206971035271692016-02-03T15:34:00.000-05:002016-02-03T15:34:34.947-05:00Sometimes, life overtakes us. We get caught up in the day to day, moving from one bullet point to the next on an endless To Do list. In the process of trying to be efficient, it's easy to lose out on many of the joys of life. Then one day, you look up and realize how much time has passed. Forgive me, blogspot, for I have committed the sin of neglect; it has been months since my last post. <br />
Why? Where have we been? Simple...raising 5 teenagers, running a household, working more hours than we should. In other words, nose to the grindstone, duty calling, forgetting to put on our own oxygen mask first during times of turbulence. We need to rethink that mentality .<br />
For me, this blog has always been therapy, a way to help me celebrate, process, and chronicle our journey as a family. In the last several months, as our teenagers are transitioning to young adulthood, it felt at times like writing about them would be a violation of their privacy. To be honest, the road to independence is a bumpy one. As our kids strive to define themselves as adults, there are less heartwarming family bonding moments to chronicle and lots more challenging moments we'd rather not record for posterity. Don't get me wrong, we love our kids madly but snarky angst isn't all that therapeutic or fun to share with the world, is it? Not to mention our aforementioned crazy busy life...hence the hiatus from blogging.<br />
It's time for a change. I'm still Alphamama but my pack of wolf pups have grown into 5 wonderful, maddening, snarky, changeable young adults between 18-20 years old. Two are negotating college/work pursuits. One is poised on the brink, ready to graduate high school and enter college in a few short months. Two still have a couple years of high school left but are testing the waters of first jobs and are thinking of the future. They're all still under our roof, all with one foot planted in childhood and the other in adulthood. It's a different kind of adventure for all of us.<br />
Here's my new perspective. It's time to return to my blogging as therapy, not just as Alphamama to my young pack but as Dee, wife of my DH, and a person who has a name. Let this serve as notice... this blog's not just about you any more, puppies! Let the therapy begin...<br />
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alphamamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08800623490932946151noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205731662108142711.post-89361257214832939132014-09-17T17:28:00.001-04:002014-09-17T17:31:44.236-04:00Birthday wishesI love this kid...just wish I could have spent all of his birthdays with him. Here he is on the first birthday we ever got to celebrate with him back in 2003. What a cutie, right? Today he's 19 and he still owns my heart! <br />
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Happy Bday, son! </div>
alphamamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08800623490932946151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205731662108142711.post-33093960917815644492014-08-31T20:56:00.000-04:002014-09-01T07:34:06.388-04:00It's my mom's birthdayNine years ago tonight was the last visit I had with my mom. It wasn't a conventional birthday celebration at all. There was no cake, no presents, no candles to blow out. It was nothing like our usual birthday bashes...but that was because my mom was reaching the end of her life.<br />
<br />
Nine years ago tonight, I sat with my mom for the last time. I held her hand. I painted her nails. I talked to her. I told her that I would always love her and miss her...but that if she needed to stop fighting for her life, I could let her go. I told her I would be OK, that she had raised me well and made me strong enough to survive whatever life would throw at me. I told her that I was happy and safe, married with kids of my own. I told her stories, reminded her of family memories, was rewarded with a gentle squeeze of her fingers on my hand that let me know she could hear me even though she was beyond speech. At a little past midnight, I heard her draw her last breath and then go peacefully. I will always believe my father was there to greet her as she passed...just as I believe he was the one who <i>insisted</i> I get out of bed to check on her seconds before her passing. I felt their presence keenly that night...and they still touch my life, even after all these years. My mom in particular is a strong presence every day. I miss her still...always will...but her gifts are with me. They sustain me as I strive to raise my own kids, to be a good mom, a good wife, and a good person.<br />
<br />
<i>I made spaghetti sauce today, Mom. I used tomatoes, peppers, and herbs from our garden. I filled the house with the rich scent of summer and love. As I stirred the sauce, I remembered coming home from school to the same aroma in our house when I was a girl. I remembered you listening to me, to the trials and tribulations of my school day. You always managed to make your cooking seem like time set aside just for you and me! To this day, I associate cooking for my family with the deepest kind of love.</i><br />
<br />
<i>I felt you at my shoulder today, teaching me still, lifting me up even after all these years. I'm so grateful for your strength, your love, all that you passed on to me. I'll keep trying my best to do as well by my own kids.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Happy birthday, Mom.</i>alphamamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08800623490932946151noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205731662108142711.post-88747053399936355392014-08-09T21:58:00.002-04:002014-08-09T21:58:43.826-04:00What we did on our summer vacation...It occurred to me several months back that we might be getting to the end of our opportunities for a vacation with our whole family. After all, with 5 teenagers who are in college and high school, carving out family time takes a herculean effort and a lot of foot stomping. Our kids have their own schedules now, school commitments and summer jobs, friends that they don't want to leave, social groups and activities, etc. By next year, who knows if we'll be able to pull off a family adventure...but we did manage this year!<br />
<br />
For our family trip, we went to Chincoteague Island in Virginia. Why? Because Mom got to pick, that's why. I figured if I was going to drag our whole clan of bored, cranky teens off on a road trip in our van, it might as well be to place I really wanted to go. I've always wanted to see Chincoteague and the wild ponies of Assateague, especially during Pony Penning week. (Ever read the book <u>Misty of Chincoteague</u> as a kid? I did...and I never forgot it. ) The island also offered something for the rest of the crowd, too...beautiful beaches, a lighthouse, awesome nature hikes, kayaking, riding lessons, crabbing
and clamming, boat rides, great seafood, and the best ice cream and
fudge just down the street. The house we rented had 5 bedrooms, 3 baths,
and a big yard for playing soccer and lacrosse. It also came with
bikes, a kayak, and a family of ducks that came to visit every day. Even with all that, it still took a few days to pry the kids off of their electronics and get them outside...but after a while, we all managed to embrace island life and have fun. Here's some of what we did in pictures:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh90qEFnnfl-Z7d_XykpuPgpG2wFBA0_VW8OLUyOjnqvme2bHblSmwimNG0XVWvS8bC81QQVx-Rx98N7rFncpROoyhfCMJYOxikV4I1SA4-7BISn0aAzofJqk6fWWTxge1Y-Zg9D_tZbWw/s1600/20140728_095144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh90qEFnnfl-Z7d_XykpuPgpG2wFBA0_VW8OLUyOjnqvme2bHblSmwimNG0XVWvS8bC81QQVx-Rx98N7rFncpROoyhfCMJYOxikV4I1SA4-7BISn0aAzofJqk6fWWTxge1Y-Zg9D_tZbWw/s1600/20140728_095144.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I had to buy loaves of bread for the ducks...worth every cent!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDAzRi4MM4ABZcE2VjHbK4MNhCKOvdvXhNH4yo3g61B8-iNb10jt8gIr_xjx894WRxd6grNJyQMbbGpmmqVpRRcJEC6T8vSDVXxgOC2zbGw06IZcPt7gxExkhKrA9fe3RtFjYDltnotf0/s1600/20140730_084826.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDAzRi4MM4ABZcE2VjHbK4MNhCKOvdvXhNH4yo3g61B8-iNb10jt8gIr_xjx894WRxd6grNJyQMbbGpmmqVpRRcJEC6T8vSDVXxgOC2zbGw06IZcPt7gxExkhKrA9fe3RtFjYDltnotf0/s1600/20140730_084826.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finally got the gamers off screens!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj49yWRBu_rOGSIhVssVGBEShZleSfIT9HRVdtMw9UCAY90DcQl3NTJonWKOEkwOS848Cw6rr0sa3dpWTXbjrHZ_0-sBC5uPLhDnphwmHG2hHg8teyFDpWaMF1htf0oJB2vD97KdE3-u8o/s1600/20140728_102707.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj49yWRBu_rOGSIhVssVGBEShZleSfIT9HRVdtMw9UCAY90DcQl3NTJonWKOEkwOS848Cw6rr0sa3dpWTXbjrHZ_0-sBC5uPLhDnphwmHG2hHg8teyFDpWaMF1htf0oJB2vD97KdE3-u8o/s1600/20140728_102707.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tanya got Mama and the babies to eat from her hand</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSzntIzle-agypRhbIn-qHupe6XkyQ3PsvO8m98qMA012GYdoqY8aJgycF9t9i_hTj2b-sFwNPKOyczrI6WqRNwI_jgD_XJluOBrxtBSqFunpR3ptQnDEyzNBwD9dvf5bvbfCukV08vro/s1600/20140728_101109.jpg" height="200" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="150" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Even my oldest boy wasn't too cool for the ducks</td></tr>
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Then there was my favorite part of the week...we got to see the Saltwater Cowboys
(AKA Chincoteague volunteer firefighters) herd the ponies down Main
Street to the fairgrounds for the annual auction of foals and yearlings which takes place only at the end of July each summer. Wild ponies of Assateague Island swim the channel and then parade down Main Street on Chincoteague? I've only wanted to see this since I was about 8 years old and I was close enough to reach out and touch them. Pretty darn awesome!<br />
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The girls got to take riding lessons at the Pony Center on ponies that were once on Assateague...very cool!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tanya on Teaguer</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kate on Misty's Morning Glory</td></tr>
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The boys went crabbing and clamming just down the street from our house; some of the locals taught them what to do and they came home with their catch to add to dinner!<br />
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Dad and I went hiking on Assateague, we toured the lighthouse with our girls, and we all went to the beach. I did a solo walk on a marshland trail very early one morning, so beautiful and peaceful! Also caught sight of a bunny hiding in the grass...can you find him?<br />
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Loved the week we spent here...and now Craig and I are looking at properties on Zillow and wondering if this might be a good place to retire some day. Hmmm...alphamamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08800623490932946151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205731662108142711.post-57706984349143740212014-07-09T10:09:00.000-04:002014-07-09T10:09:56.638-04:00July already? How did that happen?? June flew by and I barely had time to breathe with all the big events for our kids! We celebrated a high school graduation (our oldest son,)<br />
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a middle school graduation (our youngest son),<br />
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a birthday (mine),<br />
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and moving on ceremonies for our two kids who will be going into 10th and 11th grade.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We also celebrated Father's Day in honor of a great Dad!</td></tr>
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Suffice it to say that June 2014 brought us a lot of joy and pride interspersed with the challenges of living with 5 teens and the positive energy was stored up to sustain us through the tougher times...drama, angst, and instability reign more often than we'd like in these parts. Wish I could say it was all rainbows and sunny days around here but I'd be lying...some days, I'm sorely tempted to make good on my threat to run away and join the circus. At times like those, my dear husband reminds me that it would be wrong to leave the children without either parent. You see, he's of the opinion that if I leave/die/lose my mind completely and he becomes a single parent, he will either be driven to throw himself off the roof or will be sent to the big house for murder of a teenager or two. Isn't it sweet that we have each other's back in this adventure we call parenting?<br />
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Seriously, so lucky to have this man in my life...he's my rock and the only reason I haven't been carted off to the loony bin yet! He's the best of men...his mom did a great job with him and I would like to publicly thank her here and now for raising him to be such a fine person. I'll feel blessed if my boys turn out as well and my girls marry someone just like their Dad.<br />
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alphamamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08800623490932946151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205731662108142711.post-81259152953144457512014-06-10T00:03:00.002-04:002014-06-10T00:03:55.728-04:00It's a wrap<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPtPM1FIXMjztosW2JU40kHQF1ubGTb3MYB0N5bw3qNOMrZDuRVkMHGAgF2ZW2EZE939d8EPrdaBH3WZbLqtBieWYHs71DmA43XdOQOQvrdH0QIGeauY0P4kPjhMsU3zwgXy7K7iPEEyQ/s1600/20140605_132822.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPtPM1FIXMjztosW2JU40kHQF1ubGTb3MYB0N5bw3qNOMrZDuRVkMHGAgF2ZW2EZE939d8EPrdaBH3WZbLqtBieWYHs71DmA43XdOQOQvrdH0QIGeauY0P4kPjhMsU3zwgXy7K7iPEEyQ/s1600/20140605_132822.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a>Today my oldest son finished the very last assignment for his senior year. He completed his final English project, a power point presentation that he's been working on for a while. The end result? A 3.8 out of a possible 4.0. Not too shabby for a guy who didn't speak a word of English 5 years ago, I must say.<br />
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Well, it appears we've reached the finish line. After much blood, sweat, and tears we're here, a few days from graduation with all the work done and all the grades recorded. (Not a small feat,by the way...but we got it done.) I asked my son if he was proud of himself today...he said he was relieved. I punched him in the arm, admonished him to enjoy the moment and said I told you so. Last year around this time, he fretted that he would never be able to graduate. Umm... I love you but you were wrong, son. Score one for the Mama.<br />
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Graduation is Friday............and the future's bright.<br />
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<br />alphamamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08800623490932946151noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205731662108142711.post-4161809272049259762014-06-04T23:15:00.002-04:002014-06-04T23:18:05.762-04:00Today is my birthday and it's been one of the best of life. Considering how long I've been alive, that's saying something. First of all, let me say thanks to the family and friends who sent me birthday wishes; I'm so touched by your kindness! I'm also very grateful to my wonderful husband and kids who really stretched themselves thin to make my day special. I love that each of you thought long and hard about what would make my day...from the son who wanted to stay up until midnight so he could be the first one to wish me a happy birthday to the daughters who each made my day special in her own way. Kate, your bday cupcakes were the bomb and the fact that you fed me breakfast and also gifted me with yummy homemade delicacies for my special day were both great gifts! To my monkey, your lovely bracelet touched my heart and I'll wear it proudly with your love. To my sweet husband, I know it wasn't easy helping the kids with all their grand plans but I'm grateful and touched...it's a great gift to them and to me! To my younger boys, thanks for the lovely aromatherapy and bath gifts, nothing is quite as lovely as a nice bath or a scent of lavender in the air. I love you and cherish your kindness today!<br />
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I'm so lucky...feeling blessed. There's plenty of craziness on the horizon, a high school graduation is up next, then an 8th grade graduation, then Father's Day, then another birthday. So much happening but then I remember to breathe. Let's pause here, smell the roses (or lavender), and worry about life tomorrow. Enough said. alphamamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08800623490932946151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205731662108142711.post-43001222665231553272014-06-01T20:28:00.002-04:002014-06-01T20:30:07.620-04:00This sums up how I'm feeling about now...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />alphamamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08800623490932946151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205731662108142711.post-10092964580315409872014-05-29T21:43:00.001-04:002014-05-29T21:43:10.978-04:00Happy Anniversary, baby!<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Best decision I ever made...marrying this guy.</td></tr>
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Twenty-one years ago today, I got married. I wasn't a fresh-faced ingenue. In fact, I was a late 30-something (OK, fine, a mere few weeks away from 40) bride with a broken marriage behind me and a string of reasons to never look again for happily-ever-after. The fact that I got a second chance in the form of the most decent guy on the planet is nothing short of a miracle...the fact that he's stuck with me through all the years and weathered the ups and downs of our life with not just one but 5 kids is the even bigger miracle.<br />
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Our lives were very different 21 years ago. We didn't have kids. We traveled. We ate late dinners, made our own fresh pasta, cuddled frequently, and focused more on us than on anything else except the dog. Now we have 5 teens...and tonight, we exchanged cards and celebrated our anniversary in the car on the way to a medication review for 2 of our kids. So romantic!<br />
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Instead of cuddling, my sweet hubby napped while I helped one of our kids read a passage for history and answer 19 (count them, 19!!!) stinking questions for History homework. Now he's watching a bit of a lacrosse movie with another of our kids while I'm blogging. Jeez, we're exciting...but do you know what? I'm still the luckiest woman on the planet...and I'm still so glad I married this perfectly wonderful guy.<br />
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<br />alphamamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08800623490932946151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205731662108142711.post-91298439487455486352014-05-23T20:52:00.000-04:002014-05-23T20:54:15.343-04:00The thrill of victory and the agony of defeat<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI0_89nH1cJpE288bRBq6V2ATy7hZQ9COQv70aHxuIWvrHHS3GHAykq0MuH20gk2B4ekbToXS8fOddbksKDVPIxfQMSgKVvgGIvXqsDaLDGSohNJVYzhldJQ1iBtCupZY6aJe073F7BmU/s1600/https%25253A%25252F%25252Flh4.googleusercontent.com%25252FRyr4CnIZr47cqbkkY9kq_PdXeaAQW3XDgLzssEK33C8%25253Ds0-d" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI0_89nH1cJpE288bRBq6V2ATy7hZQ9COQv70aHxuIWvrHHS3GHAykq0MuH20gk2B4ekbToXS8fOddbksKDVPIxfQMSgKVvgGIvXqsDaLDGSohNJVYzhldJQ1iBtCupZY6aJe073F7BmU/s1600/https%25253A%25252F%25252Flh4.googleusercontent.com%25252FRyr4CnIZr47cqbkkY9kq_PdXeaAQW3XDgLzssEK33C8%25253Ds0-d" height="320" width="206" /></a> A couple of weeks ago, our Tanya pitched her first complete softball game for her school team...and she recorded her first win in a 6-0 shutout. It was a thrill for her and a joy to watch. I posted pics on Instagram and Facebook, claiming bragging rights as her proud mama, and told her how brave I thought she was. <i>Victory is sweet and nothing beats sharing the triumphs of our children, right?</i><br />
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Well, tonight our girl took the mound once more, pitching against an arch rival that her team has been aching to defeat since last year...but sadly, it was a bitter loss for our girls. Minutes after the game, before she even got home, our girl posted this on Facebook:<br />
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I knew I couldn't do it.</div>
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<i>God, sharing our children's disappointments really sucks. I liked it better when I felt I at least had a shot at protecting my kids...but I digress.</i></div>
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I met her when she walked in the door, put my arms around her and told her just how courageous I thought she was. I told her that I would never have found the courage to stand on the pitcher's mound but if I had, I never would have lasted the game. I would have run crying from the field long before the last inning. I reminded her of her favorite saying, "Never let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game." I reminded her of the little 6 year old girl we adopted who had a core of inner strength that the orphanage caregivers called stubbornness...and that "stubbornness" is one of her greatest assets. It's also one of the qualities we've always loved best about our sassy girl from the very beginning.</div>
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<i><b>My girl, you didn't fail tonight even though you feel like you did. You didn't let anyone down even though I know you feel like you did. You might doubt yourself tonight but I know better. You have overcome a lot more than a tough softball defeat in your young life and yet you never give up, not at school, not on the playing field, not in life. Your post on Facebook? It's just flat out wrong. You did do it. You had the courage to take the mound against pretty strong odds. You held your ground and never lost your composure. You didn't run screaming for the hills like your mama would most definitely have done. That's the definition of success in my book and I am even more proud of you tonight than I was of your winning game. </b></i></div>
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<b><i>My sweet Tanya, you are my hero! </i></b></div>
alphamamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08800623490932946151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205731662108142711.post-51762571210214426962014-04-18T15:15:00.002-04:002014-04-18T15:15:32.569-04:00Softball and studyingI love this girl...she's such a superstar! Here she is at breakfast, all suited up for her softball game and finishing a Biology worksheet that wasn't even due today. She said she wanted to get it done before April vacation started so she didn't have to worry about it. <br />
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See, spring break starts today...and we have the spring sports, the days off from school, the spring flowers in a pot in the kitchen...too bad it's in the 30's outside, huh? Well, at least my girl's smile warms me up!alphamamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08800623490932946151noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205731662108142711.post-49758673313362716632014-04-17T13:55:00.002-04:002014-04-17T13:55:20.332-04:00Is it finally spring?In New England, you can never really be sure when spring will truly begin. March is usually a heartbreaker with snow being a strong possibility but in April, we begin to feel hopeful that winter has ended. Last weekend, we saw some long awaited signs of renewal and I was so excited!<br />
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<br />I've been longing to see spring flowers finally popping up and here they are at last!<br />
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The temperatures also rose enough to allow us some outside play time. We puttered in the herb and vegetable gardens, getting the beds ready for planting. Kate and I made a trip to our favorite nursery where I bought some pansies to plant in our window box...just in time for Easter! The kids spent a lot of time being sporty...there were spirited softball and lacrosse practices in the backyard that were fun to watch.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our resident star pitcher</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad tries to bunt as our oldest son fills in at catcher</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our oldest son training our youngest in the fine points of cradling</td></tr>
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It was a picture perfect weekend, sunny, clear, and warm. We grilled burgers, we even roasted marshmallows in our firepit.<br />
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It was a wonderful beginning to spring at last...or so I thought. Then yesterday it snowed..back to ice scrapers and frozen car doors. Ah, well...it's New England. Here's hoping that was winter's last laugh.<br />
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<br />alphamamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08800623490932946151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205731662108142711.post-61903930510618915492014-03-24T15:44:00.001-04:002014-03-24T15:44:27.841-04:00Girls night!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Yesterday, my girls and I got a little crazy. It started when my oldest said she wanted to dye her hair purple and I told her I'd help her. Then my younger daughter begged to get in on the action and I decided to join them in the hair dying fun.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We used semi-permanent color that will last about 8 weeks...not too harsh and not a major commitment if they hated it! </td></tr>
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The girls picked bold colors, purple for Ms. College Girl and red for Miss High School. I went with boring brown but added some streaks of purple and red to my bangs to match my girls. We spent most of the evening coloring, timing, rinsing, styling, and laughing...in short, we had a blast.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nervous but excited as they waited for the results.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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We monopolized the bathroom for a couple of hours, ruined a few towels, and had the menfolk in the house all shaking their heads at our foolishness...female bonding at its best.<br />
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The results for my girls? Great color that looks subtle in the shadows but boldly pops in the sunlight...a fresh new look just in time for spring!<br />
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Thanks girls, I loved doing this with you!!!! <br />
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alphamamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08800623490932946151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205731662108142711.post-28888165849807903162014-03-18T15:47:00.000-04:002014-03-18T15:47:23.643-04:00Guess who's been accepted to college?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Yes, it's true! Our oldest son was accepted to Salem State University yesterday. He got the news when he checked his application status online, couldn't wait to tell me. When I found out, I dragged him straight over to the campus for this photo. Don't let the blase pose fool you...he's pretty darn proud of himself, even posted his own announcement on Facebook. As his totally biased Mama, let me brag...3.0 GPA, full acceptance, the strong possibility of playing college lacrosse for the Vikings. He isn't settled on a major yet but is thinking about Sports Management...or Engineering...or English. Not too shabby for a boy who didn't speak a word of English just 5 years ago. Sooo proud of my boy!alphamamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08800623490932946151noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205731662108142711.post-78876404395134846432014-03-11T12:43:00.003-04:002014-03-11T18:03:21.826-04:00Spring Break...woohoo!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is what a college student on Spring Break looks like...at least in our house. Our oldest is a freshman who has a love of hangin' at home when she's not hard at work hitting the books. For her very first Spring Break, she has chosen the following wild and crazy activities:<br />
<ul>
<li>chilling with our dogs while perusing her favorite cookbook</li>
<li>cooking dinner for the fam two nights (count them--TWO nights) in a row...the food was great and the best part was that Mom had 2 nights off cooking detail!</li>
<li>shopping and lunch with Mom at the mall...acting as Mom's very own personal shopper by helping her pick out work clothes </li>
<li>volunteering in her former first grade classroom with the best teacher ever!</li>
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I know....it's not Daytona Beach, tequila slammers, or wet t-shirt contests but it seems to be just what this girl wants to be doing at this point. I'm one lucky Mom...<br />
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Don't be in a hurry to move out, sweetie. We'd all miss you too much...not to mention that yummy chicken enchilada casserole you made last night! It was the best...but not nearly as wonderful as you!alphamamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08800623490932946151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205731662108142711.post-32647635608745119142014-03-01T11:04:00.003-05:002014-03-01T11:04:25.340-05:00Breathing deeply and repeating the mantra in my head...IlovemykidsIlovemykidsIlovemykidsAs I look back to my own teen years, I recall my mother saying that teens should be put in suspended animation when they hit puberty and not let out until age 18. As a teen, I remember feeling that my mother's assessment was harsh...but now that I have 5 children of my own between the ages of 16-18, I'm rethinking Mom's position. It seems to me now that Mom was overly optimistic re: the age of maturity. Anyone know where I can find a sleep pod that unlocks at age 21?<br />
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This is why they teach us Lamaze breathing during pregnancy. It's not for surviving labor and delivery at all. It's for surviving adolescence.<br />
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<br />alphamamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08800623490932946151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205731662108142711.post-32191907044410701682014-01-18T11:22:00.001-05:002014-01-18T19:34:09.582-05:00Fully licensed driver!<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our newest driver</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The boy and his pretty sweet ride</td></tr>
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My oldest son took his road test this morning and passed with flying colors. His permit will serve as his temporary license with an approval signature from the examiner until the official picture license arrives in the mail. He'll be taking a big step tonight, driving without Mom riding shotgun for the very first time. The plan? He and a couple of friends are going to the movies in his shiny red Mustang. Sooo proud of my boy!<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Note to self...try really hard not to be nervous. Baby birds all have to leave the nest. He's ready</span></i>.<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"> He passed. You taught him and you trust him. Resist the impulse to run after the car...seriously.</span></i><br />
<br />alphamamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08800623490932946151noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205731662108142711.post-78609503535758662872014-01-02T21:28:00.000-05:002014-01-03T18:37:13.624-05:00Reflections on snow days, holidays, and foodIt's always busy around here and even more so at the holidays. It's hard to find a minute to breathe, much less blog...but once in a rare while, we are forced to stop running, stop the hustle and bustle, and just be. With a winter storm bearing down on us and nowhere to go that's even remotely appealing in the snow, tonight is one of those times. We're tucked into the house, the cars have all been removed from the street, the snow blowers and shovels are at the ready. The storm is supposed to dump 1-2 feet on us before morning, we've already gotten 3-5 inches that the wind is blowing into impressive drifts. I've fed the troops homemade soup and a pretty awesome frittata for dinner, both new recipes I've been wanting to try. I have a pot of Berry Compote simmering on the stove and later, we'll have
a warm cup of the fruit drink all of my kids from Kazakhstan remember
fondly. For now, the house is quiet and the kids are all occupied with screens of one type or another. Nothing to do at this point but to reflect on the holidays just past and bask in their warmth.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aniyar on Christmas morning...he found the pickle!</td></tr>
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Christmas was low key and relaxed. Teenagers don't tend to pop out of bed at 5:00AM like little kids so we managed to sleep until 8:00. We probably wouldn't have gotten up then if not for our youngest...even at almost 16, our Aniyar is an early riser and the lure of gifts under the tree was more than he could stand. He rousted us out and the festivities began. We were sad that Craig's nephew David couldn't be with his own family in Georgia but were delighted to have him join our family Christmas, a rare treat for us. (In fact, Dave was up first and was probably the only reason Aniyar was able to control his impulse to wake the rest of us in the wee hours...thanks for the help, Dave!) After the frenzy of gifts being exchanged, the day unfolded into one long feast of goodies. If there's one thing we do well here, it's food, both homemade and imported traditions from a variety of cultures just like our family. The kids love the Russian candies and Lindt chocolates that fill their stockings; the grownups enjoy things like triple cream brie and multigrain bread. Lunch was our traditional pot of borscht along with smoked salmon, cream cheese and crackers. Tons of mixed nuts were cracked and consumed along with oranges and pomegranates galore. It's a wonder we were able to eat at all come dinner time but we managed. There were 11 of us around our holiday table, 8 of us and our three friends from next door. We served prime rib and brussel sprouts in a balsamic glaze. Rick and Deb brought 10 pounds of mashed potatoes and some yummy green beans to round out a perfect meal.So nice to share the cooking as well as the company!<br />
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<img class="HAa Eha" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwWd1K_yjWTViODp4RYo4E3MeOPs8ShokmYIni3gK1bAgktyAD6m7u9OePtpoBhWn7UZCjCSJXbDJ3fv02M4hLPkpJJXdfQoU0PYfWmBEU22fSVT6mwSDHz6j5IsyUPYVsMNwGFSA7-Rs/w901-h676-no/20131230_173605.jpg" width="320" /><br />
Craig's birthday is just a few days after Christmas so our fun doesn't really stop. The kids did a great job choosing gifts their Dad would enjoy and helping to make the evening special. I managed to pull together another special meal geared to Dad's tastes, scallops wrapped in bacon, a Thai soup, a salad, and salmon burgers with a spicy garlic aioli. Kate helped me bake a carrot cake and coat it with cream cheese frosting, a favorite of her Dad's. Not exactly kid-friendly but it was a hit with my DH and the kids were good sports about trying new foods.<br />
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New Year's Eve was really quiet since we barely made it to midnight. David came by to hang with us for a while and do his laundry; he joined us for some homemade soup (Mixed peas, beans, and lentils cooked with a ham bone) and bread before he headed back to his apartment. We stayed home all evening, watched movies and played videogames. There were a few naps...OK, those were taken by the adults...but we were all together to watch the ball drop and to toast in 2014 with sparkling apple cider. The best part of the whole event was sleeping late on New Year's Day!<br />
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We made Hoppin' John and rice for our New Year's day dinner, another new recipe from my Christmas gift to myself, the newest Pioneer Woman cookbook. It was delicious and will undoubtedly bring us all good luck in the year to come!<br />
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Hmm..I just realized how much time I've spent writing about food in this post. Comfort food, for sure, shared with the people I love. Material gifts? Yes, we had them and they were nice. Gifts of the heart and home, shared with the people dearest to me...the best gifts of all. Time to close this post and check on the snow...10 inches at least according to my DH, more to come overnight. It's currently 3 degrees...brrr! Time to go pour some warm Berry Compote for my children.alphamamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08800623490932946151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205731662108142711.post-50018075703743294192013-12-20T15:20:00.000-05:002013-12-20T15:20:06.484-05:00Guess who came to dinner?So I was puttering around the kitchen on a Thursday afternoon, doing food prep and chores, when the phone rang. It was an old friend, the social worker who wrote all of our home studies for our 4 adoptions and she was calling to invite us to a gala in Boston. Hmm...a gala? On a school night? In the city? Not a chance that was going to fit in the schedule at the last minute so I thanked her and said we couldn't make it. Too bad because it was a concert by an orchestra from Kazakhstan and diplomats from the Kazakh government would be in attendance. Since Kazakhstan is currently closed for international adoption and is once again considering reopening, our friend thought it would be great if we could meet some officials and show off our 4 success stories. Even though we couldn't attend, she asked if she could talk about us with the officials. Sure, why not? Then she asked if she could tell them we would extend a warm welcome to have them come visit the children some time. Why not? I mean, what were the chances that diplomats were going to show up at my door, right?<br />
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Well, about 7:00 that evening, she called me back. She said she was standing with the Consul from the Kazakh consulate that is based in New York City and he was wondering if he could come visit us the next day. I said "Ummm...sure!" I thought<i> OMG...seriously?</i> She said he would love to come for dinner and meet the kids. I said, "Oh, we'd be delighted!" while I was thinking,<i> AHHHHHHH! What does one feed a diplomat???</i><br />
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I got off the phone and filled in Craig and the kids on the surprising plans for the next afternoon. The next day was busy. Kate was a gem, she cleaned the house. Tanya helped me to police the kids' bedrooms for tidiness. Craig took off early to be home for the visit. The kids were prepared to meet and greet our guest. I made a pot of borscht at the kids' request and rounded out the meal with roast chicken and salad...no idea if there were any diplomatic faux pas involved but I went with my gut and the advice of my children.<br />
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The consul arrived around 3:00 and we sat down at our dining room table for tea and a discussion of post-placement reporting, the health and history of our children, and dual citizenship rules. The kids were amazingly open and polite; the consul was gracious and kind with them.He turned out to be a laid back guy in his 30's who has kids of his own so the atmosphere was pretty relaxed. Our adoption agency friend joined us and we all shared the story of how each of our kids came to our family. Dinner was served family style around 4:30 since our guest was driving back to NYC that evening. Our guest requested a tour of the house; he took pictures of the kids' rooms (good thing they were tidy, huh?) and asked to take pictures with our brood. I'm pretty sure all of that info was being gathered for a higher reason but we were fine with that; I was actually delighted to show off our kids to a government official. By the end of the visit, he agreed that the kids looked great and thanked us for our good care of them. In turn, we thanked the government of Kazakhstan for entrusting us with them. Our guest left around 6:30, after giving the kids gifts of books and music from Kazakhstan and inviting us all to visit the consulate in NYC. We may just take him up on his offer of a tour...what a treat that would be for our children of Kazakhstan.<br />
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The possibility of a visit from the government of Kazakhstan was something we agreed to when we adopted the kids but we never really expected it to happen. Who would have believed it? This was diplomacy at work right in my own home and we were suddenly the poster family for adoption from KZ...what a surreal few hours! Just hope we helped to put a more positive face on allowing Americans to adopt from KZ in the future.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The diplomatic dinner</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi3gMmmq1RLOPV8BF9RcWMemI4rICaBHwoAIEqsYZrheZWfbJf4btpcqzBTweL8-EyugotqbAWknFDKWPwZa_uk1vckYdTtBAQWF0BKJWmi-bVWLf64yUuo99XuI-z_csjngD6UOR3G3s/s1600/20131206_163949.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi3gMmmq1RLOPV8BF9RcWMemI4rICaBHwoAIEqsYZrheZWfbJf4btpcqzBTweL8-EyugotqbAWknFDKWPwZa_uk1vckYdTtBAQWF0BKJWmi-bVWLf64yUuo99XuI-z_csjngD6UOR3G3s/s320/20131206_163949.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The official group photo...the consul is the guy in jeans and a sweater</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After all the excitement (that's code for <i>stress</i>), I was totally exhausted, fell asleep by nine. Guess I'm not cut out for international relations...alphamamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08800623490932946151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205731662108142711.post-54980546802889582232013-12-03T15:01:00.003-05:002013-12-03T15:01:28.742-05:00Guess what my youngest can do?<br />
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See the platter of French toast on my stove? Looks like it came from the
Food Network kitchen, doesn't it? See the disembodied thumbs-up in the
pic? That would be the chef...my youngest made breakfast for the family
this past weekend...and it was delicious. So proud of my boy!alphamamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08800623490932946151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205731662108142711.post-37212073201532997542013-12-02T10:17:00.002-05:002013-12-02T10:55:15.523-05:00Five years ago and half a world away...Our life was different 5 years ago. We only had 3 kids then. We were embroiled in a fight with the government of Kazakhstan to adopt 2 more children and had spent a big chunk of the fall in Kazakhstan, away from our home, our jobs and our children. By Thanksgiving 2008, Craig and I were back home after a series of frustrating delays in our petition process. We were hoping for a court date in early December and a quick second trip back to Kazakhstan to finalize the adoption of our 2 new sons. Didn't work out that way...Here's what I wrote back then:<br />
<br />
<h2 class="date-header">
<i>Sunday, November 30, 2008</i></h2>
<i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="4028984788080246436"></a></i>
<br />
<h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<i><a href="http://kateswish.blogspot.com/2008/11/thanksgivingand-fear.html">Thanksgiving...and fear</a></i>
</h3>
<i>We've been back from Kaz for 2 weeks now. If all had gone as we had
hoped, we'd be on our way back for our anticipated Dec. 2 court
date...but it didn't happen. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>On November 20th, we were notified
by our agency that our judge had decided that our adoption dossier was
out of date and we needed to redo it. For many, this would have been the
death knell of the adoption. Never mind all the updated docs that we
had given to the judge in Kaz while we were there...she wanted the full
dossier, 30+ docs, all approved by the Kaz Embassy. She gave us until
Dec. 9 to accomplish the near impossible...assembling an adoption
dossier generally takes 2-3 months, then another 2-3 months to get it
approved at the Kaz embassy in Washington, DC. If we can meet her goal,
then she says we can have a court date of either Dec. 17, 18, or 19.
Sigh...I did a lot of whining and not sleeping for the first few days,
then I kicked it into high gear and started assembling a dossier...for
the fourth time. Our adoption friends have been a great help...our home
study agency and social worker have moved the world for us to update our
docs; our friend and personal notary even showed up at our house in her
bathrobe late one night to notarize docs for us. Our international
agency arranged for emergency translation services so that each document
could be translated as I completed the notarization and apostille
process, even over Thanksgiving weekend. People we don't even know have
hand-carried docs for us from Kaz to the US which they will send to our
agency tomorrow to complete our dossier...and yes, after I finished
whining and complaining, I did manage to assemble a 25+ document dossier
in a week's time. Craig and I sent it via Expressmail yesterday to our
international agency. Our new docs and the updated docs that were
returned to us from Kaz will be married up, checked for accuracy, and
sent to the Kaz embassy this week. We have been told that the person who
reviews dossiers there understands our special circumstances and will
review our paperwork on an emergency basis. We can only hope...</i><br />
<br />
Yep, Thanksgiving 2008 was a real nail biter. and the weeks that followed were equally filled with drama and intrigue. Suffice it it say that we survived and prevailed....that which doesn't kill us really does make us stronger, I guess.<br />
<br />
Fast forward 5 years. The highlights of Thanksgiving 2013 are as follows:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>TADA!! we have 5 kids, all teenagers who alternately delight us and drive us a little batty not just on Thanksgiving but every day </li>
<li>there was no drama in our house other than the adolescent kind </li>
<li>there were no trips half way around the world; the closest we got to Kazakhstan was the giant vat of Russian winter borscht I made for Thanksgiving lunch </li>
<li>we watched the Macy's parade, cooked all day, and ate too much </li>
<li>we counted our blessings</li>
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<ul>
<li>Our blessings included a very special dinner guest; Craig's nephew David is working in Boston for a few months and he joined us for the holiday...sooo nice to have extended family at our holiday table, a rare treat for us.</li>
<li> Did I mention that David is my favorite relative right now??? He gave up an afternoon of his time to hang wallpaper in my dining room and I'm ecstatic with the results. Talk about something to be thankful for!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</li>
<li>Then there's my DH who took the week off from work and installed copper back splash tiles in my kitchen. Gorgeous! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPaokBxIAxnYKopBDl6CsHhWILihr0t4bbNqXEImlVl1JXaGmbfZ0YmKta7QH_Pe6O-p7khsU3zhrp6IYpdqlbh4XxdkYrMpLY7UHSYbFdtnLE2yGl7cVQrQcEkK65oPwaST17nkVKJ58/s1600/20131202_102618.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPaokBxIAxnYKopBDl6CsHhWILihr0t4bbNqXEImlVl1JXaGmbfZ0YmKta7QH_Pe6O-p7khsU3zhrp6IYpdqlbh4XxdkYrMpLY7UHSYbFdtnLE2yGl7cVQrQcEkK65oPwaST17nkVKJ58/s320/20131202_102618.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
</li>
</ul>
</ul>
All in all, it was a pretty normal kind of Norman Rockwell Thanksgiving with some Black Friday shopping thrown in on the side. Five years ago, I was afraid we'd never get the chance to be a family of 7, to celebrate holidays together that were just traditional and maybe even a little mundane. Grateful doesn't begin to describe how I feel about that.alphamamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08800623490932946151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205731662108142711.post-6371850807887194612013-11-15T19:24:00.000-05:002013-11-16T11:51:10.050-05:00A poem and a post<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It’s been a while
since my last post. It’s been a tough Fall, lots of ups and downs and teenage
angst. Lots of housework to be done, bills to pay, homework support to be
provided. Driving lessons have been given and an additional car has been
procured for a certain teenage driver. Said teenage driver now has a part time
job to pay for insurance and gas and is also learning to drive a stick shift…guess
who is driving him to work and teaching him to clutch and not grind gears? As
if that isn’t enough, let’s throw in a minor surgery, medical and dental
appointments, and a fight with the school district over accommodations for our
youngest under his IEP and Mom has a pretty full plate. And did I mention that
I’ve increased my hours as a freelance interpreter? Yes, well…Christmas is
coming, tuition is due for Ms. College Student, and Mr. HS Senior isn’t far
behind.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">So where am I going
with this? Well, the other day, one of my kids came across this poem while
preparing for an English assignment. She was supposed to analyze the poem and
relate it to her own feelings. She did a great job; she wrote about how this
poem is totally about being a teenager, about peer pressure, first love found
and lost, the stress of school and social issues, friendship and Facebook drama.
I’m proud of her and can see her perspective…but the poem isn’t really about
the teenage years at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s obviously
about motherhood and multi-tasking and surviving 5 teens. It’s clear as a bell
to me!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="color: #3c605b; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #3c605b; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><i><span style="color: #76a5af;">Lodged</span></i> </span><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">by
Robert Frost</span></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
<b>
</b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The rain to the
wind said,<br />
'You push and I'll pelt.'<br />
They so smote the garden bed<br />
That the flowers actually knelt,<br />
And lay lodged--though not dead.<br />
I know how the flowers felt.</span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I
don’t know, maybe my girl and I are both right. At least we agree on one thing…we
may be a bit battered by the elements but we’re both survivors</span></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">.</span></b></span></div>
alphamamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08800623490932946151noreply@blogger.com1