Life with 14 kids

Book update

2011-12-08T06:41:00.001-05:00

Well I have not been blogging much but have been pounding the keys in a different way. I am now 11 chapters and 55,000 words into my new book "Finding Friday". It has been a very remarkable journey for me in the writing of this story based on the truth about getting Isaiah back from Liberia and of the struggles he has had since then. One of the wonderful things that has come out of this is such a greater understanding of these kids' feelings and emotions in what they have endured and also the expectations that turned into disappointments in a lot of instances.

It has also made me see just how far he has come since I first picked him up in Brussels airport some two and a half years ago. There I found a frightened, angry, insular kid, who wanted to be out of Liberia, but not sure exactly where he wanted to be in America. He did not want to return to his previous adoptive home, but he certainly wasn't ready to commit to a new family either. He wanted to learn, go to school, but had no idea of the work ethic that would require, and tried every trick he could to remain in control of everything in his little life.

He battled his new brothers, both physically and mentally, he isolated himself away from his sister, and tried desperately to hide himself in his own corner amidst a large family of twelve people living in a house. And, remarkably, he accomplished that for quite some time, but eventually the human spirit needs comfort and affirmation, and gradually, painfully, he emerged slowly to begin to grow and understand there was a different journey for him to travel on other than one of control and isolation.

I would not say his journey is complete, but it gave me much joy at Thanksgiving to see him surprised to find genuine love for his new little nephew, Sammy. We had the absolute pleasure of having CeCe and her little family, Sam, her husband, and Sammy their beautiful little boy home for the holiday. Unfortunately on the way they wrecked their car in terrible weather, but God is good, because instead of only have a couple of days, that turned into five days in which we could all catch up and have family time. Now, we are really excited to know CeCe and Sam are moving back to Georgia before Christmas. Sam is transferring in his job, and they are working with my other daughter Louise to buy a home here, just 20 minutes or so north. This is such a great move for everyone, especially Isaiah. He can hardly wait. It is wonderful to see, after all this time of loneliness and mistrust, he has found love in his heart for a tiny baby, who looks a lot like his uncle.

I have set myself a deadline with the book and am managing to write somewhere between 3-5000 words or nearly a chapter a day. This story, in much less detail, is being published by a New York journalist in a major magazine in January, so I am trying to finish by then. All I can say, is that before I put this whole thing into words it was a tragic, sad, unfortunate story. But when it is in print, it is shocking and terrible. The writing has also brought back memories, which are good and bad for both children, but it has exposed stark truth that needs to be told in the hope that it will not happen to another child. It has also brought both Isaiah and CeCe closer, and more knit into the family. They both have trusted me with deep secrets, with the desire to dig them out of the dark and into the healing light. I can say I am proud, and honored that God trusted me with these two incredibly strong kids. I would not have thought I could say that before writing "Finding Friday".

Life

2011-10-30T23:52:00.000-04:00

Had the most amazing get away with some wonderful friends for a little more than twenty four hours. We went to a little town nestled in the mountains of North Carolina, called Boone. Now I have heard about this place from my eldest son Shaun, who goes here to camp whenever it snows, but I had never visited. I probably would have never experienced this amazing little town other than our friends happen to have a house there, high up on the mountain ridge overlooking the valley where the town is situated.

Sometimes, we just need r & r as the military call it, and we needed that. My wonderful mother-in-law is slipping away, surely, but very gradually. She is ninety eight and five months old, and has been an amazing influence in my children's and grandchildren's lives. It is very hard to see someone you love slip away. This lady has the most intelligent mind I know, skipped two grades in school, and was doing the New York Times crossword up until a few short months ago, when she slipped to the floor from some unknown issue that caused her to become totally blind and almost unable to get out of her chair by herself anymore. She went to a nursing home three years and some months ago after having three heart episodes in ten days. We had signed a DNR and believed her time had come. Then, just like this amazing lady does, she rallied, but we knew we could not look after her medically any more and she moved into a nursing home.We have been lucky, she has come home for every birthday, Thanksgiving and Christmas, but now, that is no longer possible. She can barely feed herself and tonight was signed into hospice. Our prayer is that our Lord takes her home in the most peaceful circumstance.

Our peaceful circumstance happened on the top of a mountain, overlooking a town called Boone, with wonderful believing friends who we could share our feelings. It was almost orchestrated when the snow fell outside our picture window in our bedroom looking out over the valley below, with lights twinkling in the small town tucked into the valley, and the end of October long before we are supposed to be sprinkled upon by the white stuff.

God is good.

Running The Race

2011-10-19T22:24:00.000-04:00

Running the race that is set before us is very different for each and everyone of us. Success often gets confused with fame. You can be famous, just think about it, and yet not be successful. I would prefer on every scenario to be successful. Success is when you reach your goal, that hopefully you have set, and written down. It comes in many forms, most of which do not lead to fame or fortune, but nonetheless, achieved and successful.

In another life, somewhere back in time, I was asked to be the motivational speaker for a cosmetic company, based on the fact that when we were in trouble with a business once, I became an Avon representative. Of course, everyone laughed, jeered, made jokes about it, but within about six weeks, I was the #3 top seller in my district. I moved quickly, within 6 months exactly, from representative, walking the streets in those days, to stand-in manager, then manager, with my own district, car and expense account. That was success, not fame. This is what I spoke about in my motivational speaker days. In fact, I still tell people to not concentrate on the famous thing, but the success in what you are trying to achieve.

The race I run now is so different from back then. In fact, I run several different races in one day. But, the prize I run for is singular. The quest in my mind is clear, although I do admit it has been clouded from time to time, mostly by pride, or rejection. How do I get the message about the "lost" children out there? How do I make a difference in how the church and the world perceive and understand the need, for not only intervention in this increasingly alarming number of children coming into care, or being orphaned, but rising to the need that exists for foster and adoptive parents to step up to the plate. Once upon a lifetime ago, the church took care of this. There were no agencies, at least here in our homeland, but, over time, we have become self involved, the task becoming so great it is better to either ignore or discard.

But, the fact remains, there are children, all around the world, who are orphaned, or taken into care, because of drugs and alcohol mostly, and in some third world countries where there is fighting and unrest, without parents, or, parents who have no income and are forced to leave their children in orphanages that have not enough staff, and not enough care and food.

This is my calling, and my mission to try, even in the smallest way, to bring awareness to the community at large about this growing need.

Answered prayer

2011-10-10T22:19:00.000-04:00

God does answer prayer, even when we least expect it. Life is a challenge and in that challenge, we sometimes forget that God is always there, just over our shoulder, looking down, watching for the exact moment when the Holy Spirit can fall and convict us. That very thing happened yesterday when, it seemed, the whole sermon, in fact a word given to the pastor at 3 a.m. that morning, revolved around a couple of my kids. In those moments, the hair rises on the back of your neck, a funny feeling hits you, and your mind is devoid of any other thoughts than the ones that the Holy Spirit is putting there.

We have been praying so hard that we had almost given up on our African rescue to be saved, or at least brought to a place where he understood there really was a God, not just a figment of your imagination, or a person heard of through many sermons and kind words from others. Without God, he, as we are, is nothing. Oh there can be lots of things that are human and even worthy, such as wealth and achievements, but there is nothing without the leading and following of God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. All things fade away in value, when they are weighed against the will of God.

And after all the prayers and the worries of whether our child would ever let the guards down from his heart, it happened. All in one day. He walked forward, on his own, accepted the Lord, and prayed, sincerely prayed. Not only for himself, but for his sisters, one who is free to talk to him, and one is kept away, banned, because he is "not a good influence". I am sorely afraid, that is not the truth. He is now redeemed, forgiven, blessed and his name is in the book of life. And then, in the very same day, with wholehearted thanks to our friends Jocelyn and Garland, baptized in our pool just hours after his commitment. Rog was in the pool with Gar, but there was just a little "dust" in the air.

This is not the first time I have really trusted God for salvation of one of my near and dear loved ones in my family, and I know it will not be the last. Always, trust in God, He is the answer even if we are not looking for one.

Improv

2011-10-08T23:29:00.002-04:00

Aussies, as in me, are very prone to improv. That is, guests arrive at a minutes notice and you feed them, without question.You, as an Aussie, are required to have enough food on hand to feed whoever comes through your door. Some people in my past church lives have been fooled into thinking this means I have a helps, or hospitality ministry. Bah humbug! I am just an Aussie who is supposed to be cordial.

Tonight that spontaneous visitor stuff just happened. We were minding two of our littlest grandchildren, when friends suddenly phoned to say they were on their way to get goats milk and eggs, of which we have an abundance, and then our eldest son arrived with his kids and the fun began. We forget that unplanned events can be some of the best times. The company is what counts, and the food is secondary.

The children just had a riotous time, the noise level, must have busted some sound wave, good food was eaten, great conversation was had and none of it was planned. I am sure that once upon a year many years ago, it was the same. A neighbor called by unexpectedly and a memory was made. I am so glad I do not so plan my days that I cannot still be caught up in the moment and just go with what happens next.

I go to my bed with unexpected grandchildren sleeping alongside my own, happy to be at "Glammy's" and waking up to some more good fun down at the farm. Treasure these times, they are few in life. I will always treasure them.

Miracles

2011-10-07T21:40:00.000-04:00

In the last two years, I have walked such a fine line that has almost killed me, put me on the floor, wondered what the heck I took on. But, I always knew that God put me here, in this very place, in this very circumstance to cope, grow, learn and parent in a way I never anticipated. I have done a lot of parenting/foster-parenting classes over the last somewhat 14 years, but I don't think anyone anticipates the training needed for parenting a child from an overseas adoption that is not a baby, let alone a busted adoption. Oh, this sort comes with all sorts of questions that are unanswered.

I have battled systems, regulations, state councils, Governers' offices, educational services, and a whole lot more, that could never answer my questions, or give solutions, to the problems we encountered in rescuing a dumped, green carded, American adoptee from another country.

Today, I have experience more than one miracle that can maybe give justice to this situation. Unfortunately, I cannot give the names of either, but, I can tell you first hand, I have hope, belief, and cause to do so, that God will rectify what has been done to innocent children that do not deserve for the abuse to continue.

It's Time

2011-10-06T21:40:00.000-04:00

About a year ago, a very reputable journalist approached me through this blog for the real account of the journey of Isaiah and his sister CeCe. I was very skeptical at first, but realized she was a genuine person. Over the last year we have become advocates for these children, although, I think, from different sides of the perspective. While I am thinking from a very committed Christian point of view, she is coming from a doubting real Christianity view. And, guess what, I don't blame her. There are so many wrong points of view from so called "Christians" that, quite frankly, make you wonder what doctrine they are listening to.

But, we have met in the middle, and our interests, combined, regardless of what we believe, is in the future and past of these children. These children have been used, abused, manipulated and discarded for pure human selfish and survival reasons. They have been thrown aside without regard for their traumas, their sufferings, their somewhat hard to cope with survival instincts, that can separate and divide a formed family. They end up in a pile or heap at the bottom, all because most of the adoptive parents are hoping for someone they can "save" "heal", or just make "them" feel like a hero. Some of these kids are so damaged they cannot give anything back, or escape the "survival" disorder or phase, but some, a few, can get past that, with the right parenting, the right guidance, and that is without the wishy washy phase of giving in because the kid is "damaged" or "underprivileged".

Parenting these kids is tough, somewhat depilating, because you don't want to be hard, fixed, and demanding of what you need in them to survive in the family system. But, God willing, you can, and do.
Some of this story is about to be released in a national magazine. It has been accepted, to tell the whole story, in a magazine of which I do not know the name yet, but applaud their insight into a situation that needs rectifying, at the very least.

I might add, Isaiah and CeCe's sister is still in this situation, needing to be rectified. If you believe in prayer, please pray. There is a mandate in this country of no child left behind. I can testify and provide proof, that both Isaiah and CeCe were left behind, so far in fact, that it was too much for CeCe, and the utmost test and trial for Isaiah to make it in education. It is tough when no-one sought or even cared to realize that education counts.

God's timing

2011-10-03T22:04:00.000-04:00

As many of you know that follow this blog, we rescued a child from Liberia a couple of years ago. In my heart I forgive those involved and somewhat deceived into thinking that this "child" had committed such heinous crimes that he need to be dumped, without identity or money, other than what he had earned as a laborer, at the ripe old age of thirteen. There is a dark, unbelievable story behind all of this, which was the reasoning for him to "be rid of" and never seen again. I really don't think they understood the ramifications of their actions. How could they know he would be starving, have malaria and see his young five year old cousin die next to him on a makeshift pallet, have African "chiggers" dug out of his feet, without pain medication, by sharpened bamboo sticks, see "rebels" kill others around him, have a gun held to his head with the threat of death, climb a coconut tree, twenty feet in the air, when he was so starving that it was worth the effort, and drink from a stream that not only bathed them, but washed their clothes as well.

The sadness in this is I do know that they knew. They went to this terrible place, where there is no World Vision or other large ministries to help, and they saw and experienced an unbelievably primitive place called Monrovia, Liberia. That palls into insignificance when you go to Rivercess, in the Interior of Liberia, where he was ultimately sent to spend the rest of his life. He wasn't even in the town, he was two hours walk from there in the jungle, forest, whatever we want to name it, without recourse of any kind. He was left to survive on his own at the ripe old age of 13. He was thrust into his "great aunt's" family which already had too many children she couldn't handle. Oh, because of his "heinous deeds" he was supposed to be sent to a female free environment, but then how did he witness his five year old female cousin die beside him with malaria, while he was inflicted himself, on the pallet beside him.There is so much more that has been revealed to me, gradually, over the last two years, as Isaiah has begun to find trust in this tough, yet understanding Mom.

About a year ago, I received an inquiry from a person I did not know, asking whether the child I had blogged about, without name, was indeed Isaiah. After researching, I found this person to be legitimate and to have a genuine interest in the past abuse of this child. We formed a relationship and over the last year have communicated, interviewed, and become compatriots in finding why these children from other countries end up like this. I am wonderfully surprised to receive confirmation from her that this is going to be exposed in a reputable magazine. I pray, that this is a good report. I have always known that God in his infinite timing would expose the wrongs done to these children, and I am not betrayed. God is God. His timing is His timing and I pray justice as the Lord sees it, is done.

Amazing Love

2011-10-01T10:37:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I went back into the studio to record the re-write on one of my favorite songs I've ever written. I knew it needed a re-write, but just couldn't find the place or the words to start with. I think why I like it is because the title The Love Of Jesus is needed in everyone's life. I am blessed to have found it, but what caused the write to happen now, was I realized so many people don't, especially a lot of "lost" kids that bounce around the foster care system. I originally wrote it for someone who was going through a very hard time and did not understand His love or how you even found it.

I forgot for a minute that there are so many people, who do not understand either. Our last child to be added to the family, was a young teen who was from a broken adoption. Not only was it broken, but he was literally dumped back on the streets of Monrovia, Liberia. I got past that wrong decision by the parents writing it off to youth and lack of foster/adoptive parent training. But I can't get past the damage done to this child's body, mind and soul.

He knows about Jesus, he lives in a house where Jesus is invited in every minute of our day. He can sit in church and pretend to listen and sometimes does and can tell you exactly what the sermon was about. But, none of those words ever get past his mind, they never penetrate his soul, or his heart because it is hard, closed and fiercely protected. He has come a long way since the angry, and I now know, frightened kid I picked up in Brussells a little over two years ago. He's not openly angry, and I do catch a smile more often these days, but he keeps to himself, guarding his emotions, with a tangible wall built very firmly around him. I have broken through a few times, and he has now just about told me every horrid, shocking detail of his life since he left his father's care at the age of about five. So, there is a thin veil of trust, but so fragile, that it can only stay in place for short bursts of time. When it is broken, we start again, then start again and start again. One day, it will be strong enough to stand, as he will, in a new confidence that there is someone who loves him unconditionally, his Savior Jesus.

And that was the inspiration for the re-write which left very few words intact other than the hook, The Love Of Jesus. This is the link, share it, especially with someone who doesn't know His amazing love.

http://www.theadoptionthing.org/LoveofJesus.mp3

The Love Of Jesus

2011-09-29T21:45:00.002-04:00

Going back a couple of years, I wrote a song called The Love Of Jesus. It was written because I had gone "home" to Australia, and after a very long night with one of my loved ones there, who is not saved, I was inspired to write this song.
Most people think because Australia has Hillsong that they must all be christian. Unfortunately that is not so. About 2% are. I was raised in a denominational church, but by the time I was about eleven, I was the only one left, walking to church. At about fifteen, I was invited to a rather radical church at the time and remember receiving Christ into my heart. It was many years later that I learned that was not the only step in finding a relationship with my Lord. I have always been considered to be the "crazy Christian" in my family and do not mind a bit.

But, when I was ministering to a young member of my immediate family, in the wee hours of the morning, all she could see was Auntie Kate, the crazy christian. I poured my heart out into this song, not thinking of anything but my feelings for the situation at the time. How crushed I was to find when I presented it for critique, it got more put downs that put ups. Because I am a christian co-ordinator for the NSAI, I got that, but I also realized that I was too close to this song. Part, or most of it had been poured out of my heart. So, from a critique point of view, I knew the melody was fine, very fine, but the words? Yup, I had to concede that the lyrics were those that I understood, but perhaps were a little mixed up for others to get the message. I had mixed conversation with what I call "Christianise". They are words and expressions that we as christians understand, but the unsaved don't.

It hung around in the back of my mind, until I was putting a set together the other day for a concert, and I realized just where I needed to come from to make the lyric of this song be as great as the melody. It was birthed out of my passion for the "lost" kids in this world and I realized that my special family member that I had written this for, was no different. She was as "lost" as the kids that go through fostering and adoption, abuse, neglect and lack of education in such matters, were.

I re-wrote that song in as many minutes and I wrote it the first time, but understanding so much more because of my experience and passion for the "lost" kids. I re-record tomorrow. I will post it tomorrow. Please listen, maybe, just maybe, your heart will be changed forever about the "lost" children, who are victims in our society of parental alcohol and drug abuse which leads to extreme neglect. Perhaps you will realize that the church once looked after these children and their was no Department Of Children and Family Services. If you don't believe me, find a Keith Green CD and listen to what he was saying, oh so many years ago, and we never listened.

Running The Race

2011-09-27T22:09:00.000-04:00

We can start the race we run as a tortoise or a hare. I think I am the former, although I wish to be the latter. Wow, that is deep. I would like to get everywhere I want to be yesterday, but life does not permit that if we want to do what we do well, or even excellently. When I rush things, without thinking through all of the components, I end up feeling overwhelmed and also feel I underachieved. I am spontaneous by nature, but a planner by choice. With nine children at home, impulsive decisions are almost always halted by the necessity to organize ten others people to get ready now, do it now, move it now. Rarely does that happen. Being spontaneous takes planning in our house and I think it combines the best of both worlds.

Rog is much more laid back than I am and I think that is what makes us work, with all of the kids, animals and busy careers and schedules. We push each other in different ways, that ends up in a rather neat balance in the middle. To actually run the race we are set before us, it takes planning, pace, ambition and obedience. Each step is ordered, and when we stray from the path, the race just became longer. I do this not willingly, but sometimes foolishly thinking I know the way instead of keeping my eyes on the prize set before me. Invariably the prize becomes something I never dreamed of, a treat in the treasure box that is kept for me to find in obedience as I walk the maze that God has set before me.

For me, sometimes the path I run is strewn with cut glass, making me pick my way like a tortoise, being careful not to get stuff caught in my feet, sharp stones that cut and make you sit a while to find that the path is not the right one, just one that looked really good. On the other hand, when I am hand in hand with my Maker, I run like the wind, and the path is smooth, easy, and fulfilling.

The thing I have learned in this race set before me, is to never run alone.

Changing times

2011-09-25T21:48:00.000-04:00

There are times in our lives when things seem to go, ah, is this right? Why am I doing this? This has become hard. I call it when it's time for the seasons to change. That has been happening to me lately, or at least over the last few months. Life is a circle, there is nothing new under the sun, but it all appears in a different way, an illusion that this is new, never been seen before. It is just time to understand that the season has changed, and God is doing something new in your life.

Sometimes, we are reluctant, even downright stubborn about changing what we are currently doing, but if the season has changed and we don't change with it, we are about to be extremely uncomfortable, if not agitated. We like, or at least I like comfort, ease with which I do things, comfort in knowing it is never changing, nothing unexpected hitting me in the face. I know the order, the familiarity of the day to day, even if in the midst of that I am searching, seeking, asking for change. Of course those are not my words, I am asking for that in totally different words.

And while I am in my completely comfortable zone, knowing all that is going on around me, nothing will change, unless I am willing to inaugurate that. I am a creature of change, I don't like doing the same thing day after day, but when I am challenged to do something beyond my comfort zone, I am in the same questioning zone as everyone else. That comes of a lack of confidence in the person we are created to be, to rise up and overcome regardless of our failings.

I know that I will press on, run the race, and hopefully win the prize if I am deemed worthy, but how many of us give up before we even try. We give in to those voices that tell us "we can't" "you won't" or you're too old, too young, not experienced enough. I have learned a great lesson that your are never too old, you are never too young, you never have enough experience, or knowledge, or ability for that matter, but when you are led, from within your heart to rise up and do whatever it is you know is right, then none of that matters in the least. It is whether you will leave your comfort zone and leap out into the unknown and do marvelous things. And even if you don't, it is better to try and fail than to never try at all.

The Journey

2011-09-24T22:06:00.000-04:00

We all travel on a journey through our life. Sometimes, it becomes difficult, almost impossible to navigate, and other times it is easy, it just all seems to fall together in a plan that seems to fall from the heavens. I have found in my life that the journey is just a means to the end. And the end never comes. It maybe the end of this question, or stumbling block, but it begins again with another. It becomes a circle and for the want of sounding trite, it is the circle of life. For God is always working our life, bringing what is needed to the foreground and then letting us resolve and settle for a while before the next obstacle arises.

We think, or more specifically, I think, that many of these things are distractions, trying to keep us from the goal we are specifically sent to achieve. We can get caught up in many things that are of no consequence in our lives, disagreements, every day issues that soak up our time and energy from the things that we are called to. Sometimes, we mistake that these callings are more important than our family, our spouse, our kids and our church, even our Lord. We cannot see the forest for the trees and believe we are sacrificing for our calling.

How do I know this? Because I foolishly once believed my calling was above all else, when indeed, my calling was first to my Lord and then to my family, scripturally as well as morally. We can all aspire to become many things, but being a wife, a mother, a daughter, a follower of Christ is surely the most important. Fame is said to be success. Let me assure you success is not fame or fortune, it is achieving the goal set before you, and running the race to the finish.

My Child

2011-09-23T21:31:00.000-04:00

At the moment in my life I find it all very interesting. My younger kids, 9 of them at home, are all going along without too many hicups considering the varying and diverse disorders, quirks, backgrounds etc that we deal with. At the moment the focus seems to be on the older children, or at least a couple of them. May I remind those with young children, that no, you don't get rid of them at 18 when they go to "college" and they are still around, if you are VERY lucky, when they either graduate, find their niche in life without college, get married and begin families of their own.

I am one of the VERY LUCKY ones who has all of my children, older and younger, and grandchildren, born, and in the womb, a part of my daily life. I get to be part of the morning sickness, the funny stories about the unusually talented grandchildren, the shoulder to lean on when things are tough, like the new house is not going to happen, the old house is upside down in the mortgage and what do we do with that, the struggles of the working mom with young children and daycare and the tears spent about all of that.

I was fortunate to birth four children, with difficulty, but even more fortunate to be able to adopt and nurture so many other children that will always be in my heart. Children never leave, even if they are with you a little while, and the longer you have them the longer they stay. Some of you will remember CeCe, my oldest Liberian child, who, because of circumstance, could not follow my advice, but had to follow her African survival instincts and know she would MAKE life happen for her. I am so glad, that despite my wanting her to follow the ways I set down, and the mistakes she has made, we are still Mum and daughter. She still wants me in her life, to talk, to advise, to just be Mum. She is now a Mum, a very young one, with no-one else to turn to. I am thankful that God softened my heart, to see around the foolishness bound up in the heart of a child, to still accept and love her regardless of the disagreements we have had.

I have never just accepted all of my children's choices but questioned, prayed and hoped all would be fine. Most of it has worked just fine, despite my inner fears, but some of it hasn't and I have had to be the one to swallow any judgement I may have had, and be Mum, just Mum. For if you aren't, they will turn away from everything you have taught them through all of the years, the many years, that you have nurtured, loved, encouraged, and have just been there to listen. I believe the Lord said "Train a child in the way that it should go" but that is not a few years, it is a lifetime. Because, even now, my child is still my child, even if she is nearly 40 years old. She is still my child.

Life With 14 Kids and a cold

2011-09-21T20:58:00.001-04:00

Gosh, I can just about count on something happening when Rog goes out of town (and vice versa). I have been trying not to have a cold for maybe a week or so and Rog catches a plane and I catch a cold. The kids, all nine of them, somehow know you are without back up. It's like they all get together and say, well, there's only one of them, HA! Now Rog he just keeps coding and just about when I am due home, sends them all into clean up mode. Me, I'm in clean up mode all the time. It's just easier. If you have a large family, you live in chaos, or are extremely organized. I am the latter. I am the only one in my family like this, so on a constant daily basis, I corral 10 other people into being tidy and organized. Rog, of course, just smiles and keeps on coding (he's a low level computer security guru for those of you who don't know). His smile is so contagious that I just give up on him and go after the other nine.

Anyway, today is when deep cleaning housekeeper comes, for which I am eternally grateful. Literally, and do mean literally, five minutes after she is gone I am picking up after said nine children. Normally this is not a biggie, but my nose is running, and I am grumpy. I have a Metropolitan Atlanta Theatre Awards rehearsal at 6.30. I have to cook dinner for ten before I go. I have to look like I don't have a cold and be professional. I am a presenter as well as a nominee. Have to look cool. You know how that goes. I DO NOT FEEL COOL. In fact, I am not sure I am not running a fever. Well, it's called the "Show" must go on and it did. The kids eventually all pitched in as they usually do, and have all settled down. Some, the younger ones are in bed and the older ones are chillin' getting ready to same.

I got some news on radio play on my single "God Of Glory" (which is on the latest added by the way), and news from my producer Doug Sizemore that my first two songs from my new cd "The Adoption Thing" will be uploaded to me as soon as they land and get settled. He is Reba McIntere's Musical Director and left on tour today. Her guitarist, Jim, is mixing. I am stoked because they are going to do a live recording of the last song before sound check one day this week. If you ever get to go see them, they are not only talented, but really great guys and gals.

So tomorrow is another day, and it is an early start to milk the goats, get the lunches etc before school. I am looking forward to picking up Rog in the evening and life with 14 will return to normal.

New Adventures

2011-09-20T06:22:00.000-04:00

In the last couple of weeks our eldest set of twins, who are now sixteen, have taken a real interest in camping. So, because we are fortunate to live on a suburban farm, with fishing ponds, goats, chickens and horses, they don't have to go far to experience a night in a tent. So, we got the tent etc and they have set up outside and had a great time. That of course, led to us thinking about how they could have a bigger adventure, and hence the scouts came up.

Both the boys have learning disabilities so in our struggles through the years to pinpoint and conquer their unique way of learning, somehow scouts and cubs didn't arise. Of course we tried baseball, which was great until they got to fast pitch. Then because of their visual perception and slightly shaky hands, they decided that was definitely not for them. Swimming was sport of choice, and lately a little soccer and basketball, but even though both Rog and I were cubs and brownies, the subject didn't arise. Until now.

Rog suddenly came up with the idea, inquired and low and behold there is a scout troop just a mile or so from our house. So we now have three out of our four boys in the boy scouts. I would have thought sixteen was too old to start, but I guess just as in every other part of life, you are never too old. Isaiah, our liberian child, declined to go, but after this weekend he might just change his mind. It seems the troop is off to Ellijay, in North Georgia, for camping and kayaking from Friday to Sunday. I have warned them about bears and not straying too far. There is a family joke about their sense of direction. But all jokes aside, I know this will be a great adventure for them.

The other really funny thing is that Rog has become the assistant Cub Scout Master. He still isn't sure how he landed that one, but he is off camping with Zach in a couple of weeks as well. What a great organization that has served our children for so many years. Sometimes, the simplest things in life can give the greatest pleasure.

Ukraine Orphans

2011-09-19T07:06:00.001-04:00

On Saturday night I had the privilege of being part of a fundraiser for a young lady called Candice who is traveling to the Ukraine next Friday to minister to the children in six orphanages around the area. Watching slide after slide of these children who all have big smiles and look happy on the outside, I was reminded once again of the similar faces with big smiles and sad eyes of the lost children who live just around the corner from all of us. The numbers keep growing in this age where poverty is not the reason for children coming into foster care any more.

When asked why the children in the Ukraine were in foster care, most not eligible for adoption, the answer was the same as in the United States. Drugs and alcohol, mostly. These children though, unlike here on our home shores, are still tied to their parents living in limbo, unable to move on, as their parents can keep signing a piece of paper that keeps their parental rights intact. In these situations where is the hope? What is becoming of this generation of children who are growing up in the foster care system with not enough caring people to look after them?

The same situation is here in our country. If you ever have the chance to google children waiting for adoption in America, your eyes will be surely opened. Unfortunately, the statistics of children who age out of the foster care system without having found their forever home through adoption, are that some 90% will end up on the street or in some form of criminal activity. The saddest part of all of this is that most people aren't even aware these "lost" children exist.

2011-05-08T09:06:00.000-04:00

I am sitting her at the family condo in Panama City waiting for everyone to wake up. I came for an unexpected spontaneous holiday with my second eldest daughter who is expecting our eighth grandchild in a few weeks. Just an inkling that she needed some Mummy time. She had taken my youngest set of twins away to entertain her four year old and I just felt that might be more than she expected.

We have had an amazing few days swimming, go carting, dining and best of all an amazing boat ride. I have always looked at those boat rides as just going up and down the front beach, but seeing we just had a couple of kids we thought it might make for a change from sitting on the beach. Well I certainly underestimated the boat ride. It was the most fabulous and amazing time I had ever had. Our first stop was to see the dolphins who were swimming in crystal clear water around the 75 ft. boat. Then they started to do tricks for fish. It was truly something to be seen. We then started off and they began to swim in the wake of the boat. We ended up with something like 15 or 20 dolphins swimming along with the boat flipping in the air and doing tricks. I have never seen anything like it. Even the captain said he had never seen them like that before. And these were wild dolphins! Not like the ones at sea world.

We then went up the beautiful gulf coast, fired the cannon several times which was interesting for the kids, had a water gun fight with a pirate ship (not a real one) and then the kids had their own water gun fight in the back of the boat. Flying above us were these flyers in kite like little flying machines which were propelled by something that looked like a bike. Absolutely amazing. They were flying around the boat and doing aerodynamics. We then set off back to the dock and just before the end pulled up a crab pot and out came a dozen or so crabs that the kids got to pick up. It was a wonderful day.

Came home and got ready to go to dinner and oh oh. Text from Rog who is home with the other kids, to say we had been contacted by a CASA worker in Tennessee (child advocate worker) asking out two children we had adopted. I suspect the God is up to something and the family may be growing. Time will tell. Life is always unexpected but that keeps it interesting.

2011-01-26T15:30:00.000-05:00

Well it was a better day today. The bruising is coming out and I have a little more motion without pain. I appreciate all the emails and encouragement from wonderful faithful friends. Imagine my surprise today when I am delivered the most amazing chocolate covered strawberries from my dear friend MaryAnne. We only live a mile as the crow flies but both have very large families and commitments which have us more on email or facebook than face to face. Thank you my friend, you catered for the whole family of which all my little chocaholics are grateful for.

I should have guessed that Isaiah felt he was "under the radar" in the last week or so with all the extra goings on with me being not quite up to par. Yesterday I was in the kitchen around the time his bus was due, and as I looked up at just the right time though the front window, I noticed it went speeding by. I wasn't immediately alarmed because it was just a little early and I thought, oh maybe that was another bus not his. But ten minutes later he walked through the door with no bus pulling up to the driveway. Our home is a bus stop and it picks him up in the morning and is supposed to drop him off in the afternoon. This was the same schedule that the boys had when they went to Public school. Mmmmmm, my brain went, now just what is going on here that I have missed in the confusion of pain and delegation.

He had a very plausible explanation but it did not pass muster. Unfortunately for him, and all my children, I have mother lying radar. He was definitely telling me a story. Rog then remembered that the bus stop he first was at last year, there were a couple of girls who happened to get on at that stop. He was later moved to our home as a stop, but that was the high school bus and he only got it to connect to his other bus which took him to his English As A Second Language class at the appropriate middle school. He is now in High School in ESOL (same class only high school). Isn't God good? We were having problems with him attending the Christian School, and, I really felt I had to let go and let God, so I transferred him back to the public system only to have them put him back in ESOL, which is a class of about 10, and not in the mainstream classes of which there are hundreds or even thousands of children attending.

But, that meant that the problem I was having in the Christian school (him texting and running after inappropriately aged girls) was lessened even more with him being in such a small classroom. Hence, him wanting to get off the bus at the stop where all the girls get off. Ah, the foolishness of the young, thinking that the Good Lord will not put an uneasiness in the hearts of his parents. Alas, today, after speaking with the bus driver, and pointing out my concern that he had maybe missed his bus when he did not get off at home, put an end to the folly of his unthought out plans. He has gone off to church tonight with all the other older ones and I do hope at some time his heart will be softened to the word of the Lord.

My other little people have had what we call a "come to Jesus meeting". Wow, Mum really was telling the truth. We do have to keep our rooms and help for more than just a couple of days? Mum still has a sling and can't do the washing? But, man, it is six days and counting, what's up? Reality is hitting home. But tonight they "got" it. They pitched in and the washing and folding is done, the milk is pasteurized, the dishes put in the dishwasher, the leftovers put away, and they have gone off to church with all in order. I know they feel great about having achieved not only the house, but helped with the animals as well. They are all fed, the chooks put away, and all is peaceful at Cressbrook Creek.

I have started a video series because I have been asked so much about what it is really like at our house. So the first is posted and the link is.......

here

2011-01-25T19:44:00.000-05:00

Ok, so I survived the rotator cuff, bone spur, arthritis, torn bicep muscles and torn tendon surgery. I am in a sling and six days and counting. I am not allowed to lift anything but may use my hand and arm up to my elbow. Might I add this is my right shoulder, and I am the most right handed person on the planet. I have come to conclusion today, that just like when you give birth and have the baby blues around the fourth day, I have the rotator cuff blues today.

I am sick of not being able to do much, only delegate, or do it with my almost non existent left hand. I have been to gym working with weights since 1979, long before the get fit obsession was even a twinkle in somebody's eye and I am shocked to find that really your dominant side does all the work. How do I know that? I am living that very fact. I have started to rehabilitate my left arm with weights and exercises because otherwise it will surely fail me in the months ahead.

Now the benefits? My hands just may return to looking somewhat decent after not having any detergent or water constantly flow over them as I cook, clean, wipe, wash and do all the things that a mother does. But, I, I, I, miss it! I am a nurturer by nature, and I have an amazing sense of satisfaction when all is done, and is sparkling clean. The laundry is tended, neat and folded for the day, the kitchen is clean, the dishes put away, the floors are swept, and the house is neat and tidy. I admit freely that I am a typical ADHD person except I am an organized, maybe dare I say, over organized ADHD person and that is how I cope. Everything has a place and there is a place for everything. How come they all don't get that?

But, I do have many things to be thankful for and that is why I am struggling to write or type this blog. My children are just a little spoiled, but they do get that their Mummy is not too good. I refused the nerve block and all the "tough" pain meds as I am allergic to a lot of drugs and sometimes the reactions are worse than the pain. So when I arrived home from surgery, I am quite sure I was white faced as all the pain interceptors had worn off and I was praying, out loud, really hard. I had been prescribed what they call ibuprofen on steroids and I grabbed that sucker as fast as I could when I got home. It took a little while to kick in but then I think I was up for nearly twenty four hours as I reacted to it just like I do to steroids. I solved all the problems of the world, without any pain, in the wee hours of Thursday morning. And then on taking the next pill Thursday morning, I literally chewed my husbands ear off recalling all of the amazing revelations I had throughout the very long night. Might I add they also made me swell up. My fingers looked like they belonged to someone else and my shoes were tight. Needless to say although I was strictly instructed to take these for five days, I copped out Saturday morning a mere two and a bit days in. Advil will work and does work just fine.

I do need thoughts and prayers though as I have puppies due in less than a week and kids (goat kids) due in about three weeks. I have wonderful older children and a husband who thoroughly understands my enthusiasm for just about anything, but farm life and life with 14 kids goes on through everything, including surgery.

Snow, Ice, animals and children

2011-01-14T20:41:00.000-05:00

It has been a "hard" week. I have absolutely loved the snow. There was something in having to wake up early to feed the animals, find the eggs, make sure they were all OK in the unusual circumstances we have faced in Georgia this week. Luckily I still had my hiking boots from, oh eons ago, which were weatherproof and warm, and there was something that rose up from some roots somewhere, that really enjoyed this whole experience. I almost felt empowered as Rog and I trooped through the snow which became ice, to make sure all the animals were OK.

I love my goats and chickens and horses. The first day I was really concerned because although we opened the back of our big renovated barn, (we have two) our horses " chose " to not come in so on Monday morning when I went to feed them their manes were covered in icicles and their tails were not much better. I was worried even though they seemed not to be. They have their winter coats on (for all you animal people), but I wanted to take them in and warm them up even though that was or seemed not to be on their minds. I was so relieved that I had found "warm" buckets for water on line and had them in place before this whole wonderful and I do mean wonderful episode.

I am still learning this farm life, but I cannot tell you how much I love it. The horses were very sensible and over the next few days came inside and understood there was nothing, and I do mean nothing, to eat in the fields. Snow, with a covering of ice has covered our whole property and even with my bung shoulder, on which surgery was postponed until next week, I have loved being awoken by my internal clock to get up, have coffee, don the under freezing garb and go attend to my "farm". The kids are getting the idea slowly, and maybe God gave them an extra week to really understand all that I will not be able to do over the next few weeks.

It seems our farm is full of life. Our little wired haired Jack Russell dog, who was dumped over our fence, given to a couple who wanted her, then given back because the couple broke up, is deaf, albino, and amazingly sweet, is due to give birth to what we are calling "Jack Daniells" puppies, in two weeks. Our old vet told me she was spade, but alas was wrong. When Rog and I walked in from our little retreat to Australia, Jack Daniell babies were being made. We have two English Cocker Spaniels, one a show spaniel and one a field spaniel. We bought "Beau" to be a mate for our English Show Spaniel Bella, but alas Bella felt she was his mother so no pedigree babies for them. But, Beau trained our little Georgy Girl, (wired haired Jack Russell) and between him, Bella, and Georgy just ran together every opportunity they had. Every time Beau went out, well so did Georgy and the result, a house trained dog.

Just after Georgy is due to give birth, so are a couple of our goats. I have such amazing daughters and daughters-in-law, because by both these events, I will have my arm in a sling, a fact I don't really like, but to be back to 100% I have to have the operation. I can put it off, but then worry about arthritis setting in, and that is not an option. I have one of my nannies who is so "full" I wonder if she is having four kids and not three. She had triplets on her first kidding.

The other is getting very "fat" as well. I am really hoping that they will not kid until I think is really their due date, but goats can and will fool you. But my amazing family is ready and willing to be there, even if it only for the fact that none of us have had "kids" before. On the other hand, I am responsible, and our large animal vet is on call, and really willing, along with her students from Kennesaw, to all be present to make sure we have a large happy family.

2011-01-12T20:21:00.000-05:00

This is the first chapter of my new book, The Alphabet Syndrome (including Attachment Disorder)

I was the middle child of a family of three girls. When I read all the criteria of what a middle child can be, I guess I see similarities. I grew up "different" from my family, leading sometimes in my preteen years to wondering if I really belonged to these "other normal" people, or perhaps I was secretly adopted. Of course none of those ideas were true. It transpired that I truly descended from both sides getting I guess the healthy deposit of entrepreneurial genes from both sides as well as the "finding every lame duck there was" genes as well. My mother once commented that if I found a stray horse, I would bring it home. I did bring kittens, dogs, and underprivileged children home. I remember wanting a birthday party, oh around eight or so, and my mother saying it wasn't possible that year, and then inviting my whole class for "afternoon tea" (an Australian saying for snack in the afternoon).

I also remember that my two best friends in primary school, were both just a little different like me. One of my friends was Elaine, who like me, was just a little out there, different, enthusiastic, going to become "something", although we didn't know exactly what. I recall her playing guitar, something I really envied, and us singing "The Little Blue Man" of which the only part I was allowed to sing was exactly that, "The Little Blue Man". "I wov you I wov you" that was it!! My other friend, was Carol, who came from a large less affluent family from mine and whom I felt I had to protect from what I still don't know. There was another "friend" and I say that like that because I along with Elaine was elected to tutor her in English in seventh and eighth grade. She never spoke. Me, I became very frustrated wondering why someone would not speak, not look at you, not answer, not respond, but Elaine, she had a lot more patience or whatever with Eddie. I know now, she probably was on the PDD scale, either Autism or Aspergers. It makes me cry now to know I didn't or to be realistic could not help her. She was lost inside herself, and there was no understanding at that time of what I call the Alphabet Syndrome.

Of course, both Elaine, Carol and I were products of the Alphabet Syndrome, but so little was known about ADHD, OCD, ADD, Autism, Tourettes, Bi-Polar, Learning disabilities, like Expressive Receptive Language Disorder, Dyslexia and all it's muted forms, CP, PDD, Mood Disorders, and many other issues I have dealt with in my journey into fostering and adopting children. Little did I know that even in my youth, the Good Lord was teaching me for what I would do many years down the road. Myself, I know, am at the very least ADHD, a "little???" OCD and can become frustrated and fleetingly depressed when challenged by situations I do not understand. I want the world to move as fast as I do, and on another planet understand not many people do. Hence, I am ultra organized and sometimes do not understand why other people aren't. Of course that only relates to my house not others. I really don't care about how other people keep house, I care about their friendship, but something deep inside of me needs MY house to be tidy and organized. Alphabet syndrome? Oh yes and I do know that, and daily have to seek guidance how to overcome, tolerate, and live life to fullest. We maybe born with inherrant traits, but, through Christ, we can change and learn how to manage our nature and what it leads us to do, whether that is with medicine, prayer or a combination of both.

I have always had my "foot" in my mouth. I remember, vividly, being about oh, four or five, on the back steps of my parents home, and the baker delivering the bread. "Our Daily Bread". Funny isn't it, because home delivery is such a thing of the past. But there he was with our daily loaf, and my mother and the baker were exchanging pleasantries when I suddenly looked down, and blurted out in a very loud voice, "Mum your legs need shaving!". My mother was mortified and I really didn't know where that thought came from other than I was bored and it just popped right in my head and at the same time was coming very loudly out of my mouth. I recall many incidences like that and to me they were normal, but to the rest of my family, it was a little strange. I got used to it. I always sang, in fact when I was four, I informed all around me that they would "pay to hear me sing". It was a joke until I was just seventeen and was cast in my first professional role in the theatre as "Ado Annie" in Oklahoma. Some things, although not understood, are there, born within, and just need the right person to understand, relate and bring them to life. Everyone has talents and abilities, some are obvious, some are hidden. All of the obvious ones are not necessarily the ones that God honors, sometimes it is the hidden deeds, the sacrifices made when no one is looking that is most precious to Him. On earth, we think in earthly terms, needing earthly praise, needing to rise to the heights of what we think the earth desires, or expects of our abilities, or our aspirations. When we “fail” we are seen as being unsuccessful and yet, perhaps that failure was tied to being famous, which is entirely not related to being successful. So many times, like myself, someone has an ability which is obvious, like singing, or acting, or public speaking, or even rising to the heights of the business world, and yet becoming famous for those gifts and abilities is not necessarily relating to success. Success is not always about being famous. It is succeeding in the task or goal that you have personally set and achieving such. Just because you are not famous, does not mean you have not succeeded in the task you set out to do.

I look back at my friend Elaine, who had rocky teenage years, and was not understood by many, and yet she had the intuition, the compassion inside her to comfort our friend Eddie who lived in a silent world. Yet, most of people I know, felt “Elaine” had made mistakes, to the point of perhaps disgracing her family in those 1960’s, but she had a depth of grace for Eddie that I did not. I didn’t envy Elaine in her patient understanding of what was entirely frustrating for me. I was gregarious, my mouth spilling over, as was Elaine’s, but she had a depth of understanding and ease with Eddie, that I simply did not. It has come back to me in these later years when I am having to deal with Aspergers syndrome in one of my own children and still having to overcome the same feelings of frustration and anquish that I did way back then.

Now Carol, my less fortunate friend, was not Elaines cup tea at all. She just did not relate to someone who did not wear clothes as nice as she did, who did not seem to have any apparent talents such as backing her up in the “Little Blue Man”, and although shy, was not silent or unable to communicate like Eddie. And she didn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t adore Elaine for her guitar, and singing as well as her HORSE!! Elaine owned this magnificant if not somewhat wild, stallion, a pinto, that she and I rode almost every afternoon after school. Elaine, truly was my hero in those days. She seemed invincible, and able to do all the things I longed to do. Sing and play guitar (I did achieve that a few years ago), ride wild horses, and have wild dreams. Her parents seemed to understand her, even indulge her, and I envied that so much in those young naieve years.

Yet my parents, in their infitine wisdome on which I draw from today, knew to keep a “rein” on my wild side. While I plodded along, got good grades, attended singing lessons, and most of the time felt I was being held back from some amazing dream that was waiting for me, Elaine ran off to the islands to experience all that was exciting and came home just after she was seventeen with a baby, and no daddy who cared to look after them both. Carol, because of her large, less fortunate family, did the same thing. Got married way too young and had children before she could ever find out who or what she was to become. I did find Elaine again when I was older, I have yet to find Carol and I often wonder about how things turned out for her. Did she ever find herself or did she get buried in the day to day of life and children and lesser opportunities. Eddie? She is the one I wonder about the most. What ever did become of her? Oh, if only I could go back to my youth and have the knowledge that I have now of the unfortunate circumstances of birth or the misfortune of neurological disorders that even today are still not understood, maybe, just maybe, I could have done better.

New Day; New Ways

2011-01-05T20:23:00.000-05:00

Well today we took Isaiah back to public school. A long hard decision not made without much prayer and asking what was the right thing to do. Alas, I have had to arrive at at the gut feel I always had, that he really has what I call "Survivor Disorder" and what the world calls "Attachment Disorder". Now, I am not a newbie to this problem. After fostering some sixty odd children, we have had our share of what is known as "RAD" (Reactive Attachment Disorder) and Attachment Disordered kids. Reactive just means they are violent, destructive to themselves, little ones and animals, light fires, refuse to eat, pick apart or destroy their toys or anything else in their way, and really, really, hate their mothers.

The reason for this is simply they feel "right or wrong" that they were abandoned by their mothers (it could have been fathers too) and they had to survive by themselves. We have seen this in children as young as 22 months. Depending on the abuse, or circumstances in this instance, is the extent of the "Survival or Attachment" issue. On top of this, Isaiah has had to deal with a disrupted adoption which led to him being left on the streets of Monrovia, Liberia, without any identification (I will clarify: passport, green card, social security) and only the money he had earned himself in the USA. His beloved camera, which he paid for himself, was also taken from him on the premise that it would be stolen in Liberia. This camera cost him many hours of hard labor and many dollars. I believe a couple of hundred. For a thirteen year old that is a lot.

Just how does this child ever trust again? On top of that, after eighteen months in a house where all the children have been nurtured, tutored for their learning disabilities, honest to a fault, how can he hide, deceive, lie and keep his distance without being noticed by an entire family. Lucky for him, they have been taught not to judge, but to just tell the truth. This has been a very hard experience for Isaiah. After all the lies, every day countless numbers of times, the fights(physical) he has tried on to become the "Alpha Dog", I applaud and am proud of my kids for not judging, but not accepting his behavior. On top of that, this poor kid has never been educated. Well, you say, as I did, this can be fixed. Intensive but we can fix this thing.

What I have come to believe, maybe cause this little light goes on in my head that I know is the Lord, is that he has no "work ethic". Now you may disagree and I am OK with that, we all don't have the same opinion, but I believe I know know that "work ethic" starts with that first drawing, or project, or task that a child is asked to hand in completed either in pre-school, kindergarten or maybe for some first grade. But when your "parents" both in Africa where this is nearly impossible, or your adoptive family does not educate you, you don't simply have a work ethic. The inbuilt intuition that you must finish this task to please somebody or even yourself is not there. He has been denied that, both in Africa and unfortunately by his previous adoptive family who foolishly do not believe that as Christians we are not of the world, but we sure do live in it. And, we are expected to abide by the rules set down by the leaders of our countries which clearly stipulate in ours, that no child should be left behind in education.

For Isaiah, this has been more than a double whammy. His father took him from his sisters for a couple of years in Africa before he then dumped in in the orphanage where his older sister had to come to know him and stand up for him. He is then adopted into an American family only to find that they have another agenda as well and at the first sign of trouble, abandon him again back on the streets of Liberia, scared, alone and without anything. He then gets rescued by a "rich" in his words, family and is out for what he can get. Who can blame him? And then, after all his defensive protests, finds he is uneducated and what a huge struggle that is for him to overcome.

And then our mistake, that he would feel comfortable in a small, private, christian school, which is more like a community, believing or fearing that he would fall into bad company in a secular school. He was like a fish out of water and in every social event, both at school and in our home, it was obvious that he was uncomfortable and did not know or did not understand the ease at which these kids had with each other. Sad but true.

Then the light shines. All is very clear in light of the Lord. Over Christmas, tired of all the deceit, lies and half truths, we just put it on the table. Tired of the physical and mental fight for control, we put it out there. Are you attached to anyone? The answer. Not really, no. What, not even your sisters? No, not really. No surprise, he does not contact or even speak about his sisters. It becomes clear. If you do not want to please someone, and do not want to give any control over to someone, then asking that person to be grateful or to have compassion or to respond to any emotion is a recipe for disaster. Take the emotional expectation out of that equation, and you have peace on both sides and level playing field where all parties feel OK. The tension is relieved, and perhaps, progress can be made.

Kidding around with my rotator cuff!

2011-01-04T20:24:00.000-05:00

Well Christmas was amazing and wonderful but not without it's hic-ups. Other than the goats which I am learning about day to day, there were other issues which always have to be dealt with. One of them, unfortunately, is that I have to have surgery on my shoulder, rotator cuff to be exact as well as a bicep tear (maybe). The original tear came from another rescue from a busted Liberian adoption where the young lady could not integrate into the family. Because of the the circumstances at the time, I was thrown from the back of our "Airport Shuttle", which is our primary transport, to the front. I hurt many things, but mainly my right shoulder. I did rehabilitate with exercise and felt really good until Rog and I went to England and Scotland in the summer. As I was getting off the train from Heathrow my roll on port(that's case for Australian)

(stacked with clothes I admit right now) was kicked and threw my right shoulder over and out for a knockout (for those who know cricket).

Because of my really busy schedule for the end of the year I endured, worked out, got cortizone shots, but to no avail. It is surgery. Well that means a heck of a lot for this crowd in my house. Unfortunately they are spoiled. They enjoy wonderful meals, their laundry done every day, mum at their beck and call, and I mean counsellor, adviser, homework co-ordinator, cook, chief bottle washer, tidy upper, laundry person, organizer, lunch maker person, picker upper person, teacher soother person, interferer in sibling arguments, driver to music, dance, social engagements, whatever they fancy. Alas, this is coming to an end for at least four to six weeks. They are in the first stages of grief right now which is denial. They have oh, a whole week to get through the four stages to functioning as a mighty powerful sibling group, so their father can and will get his daily work done.

The Good Lord Prevails! Sometimes when old softie Mum gives in, gives up, endures, prays, and believes that they will all turn out, the Good Lord takes His stand. There is no hope for them in the next four to six weeks that they will listen constantly to their whatever is attached to their hip or pocket, disappear to someone's important place, have to look something up urgently on their computer other than homework, return this oh so important sms or email or phone call, it will be kitchen, laundry or bathroom duty for all. Oh and did I mention the 7 goats, 10 chickens and 7 dogs. We have at this moment, 5 does who are expecting kids, and 1 dog expecting puppies. I guess this is a lesson for all.

But the blessing? I know I have exceptional children who will and I repeat WILL not let this family down let alone their Mum. Sometimes we have to have a challenge to step up to what God expects of us. When we don't, perhaps we will not meet either His or our expectations.

After Christmas

2011-01-03T21:22:00.000-05:00

What a great Christmas! We had snow, the first accumulation in 100 years. It was wonderful! The only not so good thing was everyone left much earlier than usual because as the sun went down the roads froze. But, other than Ben and his family are currently celebrating and visiting family in Australia, it was the usual amazing eventful Thompson family gathering.

On top of that, I was uncertain whether we were going to get Christmas "kids" and I mean Nigerian goat kids. I have not delivered goats before. I have delivered, been present whatever for many dog births, but not goats. I was, and am still a little unsure of just what I was supposed to be looking for. I think I am going to write my own account for newbies, about what is the exact line of events that you look for. I think I have seen every goat birth and description on UTube, but every sight just goes from somewhere very near the end and does not explain the confusion of things that happen before that. And, your vet really doesn't want to answer your very stupid and naive questions on the answering machine on Christmas Eve.

So, in the midst of cooking for 25??? or so I had a baby monitor on the vacant horse stall and area at the back of our barn, which Rog and I prepared on Christmas Eve with lots of bedding, food and water and even an air conditioner for the arrival of suspect "kids". We planted the monitor in our room on Christmas Eve and I ran and checked ( between cooking) every hour or so on our nanny to make sure she was not about to give birth.

I must say here that I had thought she was due either in early February or March but because she was and is really big, I thought, OK, I could have been fooled. She had triplets earlier last year, and because of her size was capable of fooling a newbie. I won't go into all the gory details, but I now know that she is probably due in early February and is maybe going to kid four. All the symptoms which made me think she was about to birth, I have now found are what to expect in the month or so before that. But it really made for an exciting Christmas amongst the snow and has given the family a great expectation for our new "kids" who will begin to arrive over the next few months. We actually have five nannies that are freshened and who will kid between February and April. And, the kidding pen is ready!!

2010-11-19T08:41:00.000-05:00

What a hectic couple of months! I thought summer was long and wild, but in the last couple of months have been really busy. For the first time in a very long time, I have had time to indulge back in theatre and have been involved in a couple of wonderful shows. But busy is when you are in two productions and directing one, and assisting on another all at the same time. Add in that, seven children, one grandchild, one husband and one ex-son-in-law, are all in the same production of Oliver. Wonderful and mad all at the same time. On top of that Rog and I fly out to Australia (for some much needed r&r) this Sunday.

We opened Oliver last night and it was really great! My proudest moment was when my Aspergers' child did her first real role and solo song. She sang out in her beautiful clear true voice and there was a little dust in the air. Of course we had the little melt downs before and by some miracle avoided the major melt down afterwards. What was also amazing for her, was that although we have always known she could sing like this since she was 14 months old, her voice had been trapped inside in public, because of her fears of failure in social interaction, and her difficulty in looking directly at people for long periods of time. Unlike some kids with this diagnosis, she is not lacking in self confidence, she has always been secure, but only with her family.

Aspergers is very difficult at times to live with, and I can tell you does affect everyone in the family. I am blessed that all of the 11 others that have known her since birth, are very tolerant, but also rub the rough edges off and keep her in line when needed. That does not stop the explosions that happen when things just do not go according to her plan (which is every day) or the frustration that the only chores she will do are the ones she chooses, not the ones you would like her to do. And of course there are the times which happen often where she rearranges my kitchen pantries (of which there are several) to her order of things. I usually discover this after I have run an errand and come home to the kitchen looking absolutely fabulous, clean, tidy and sparkling. But upon looking further, just where is everything? It has all been put in the places that suits the order of her thinking.

My other little stars were shining last night as well when all other five children had lines to do and small parts to play. My grandchild was wonderful, showing off his acting abilities and his wonderful gymnastics, and my eldest daughter was amazing in the role of Nancy. My husband, Rog, played my husband Mr. Bumble, and although we were cranky nasty old people who ran the orphanage, it was the first time, and I hope not the last, that we played opposite together on stage. It was such fun! Of course we have sung together in bands and duos for years, but this was different. We were on the same playing field along with a large part of the family.

We have three more performances to do, then off to Australia to see my family and also attend a cousins reunion. It will be fast and furious, but then, that is life with 14 kids!

2010-09-17T21:55:00.000-04:00

Some weeks stand out more than others and I can say that this is one of them. A couple or few years ago we took in another Liberian distrupted adoption which unfortunately did not work out but left me with a severely injured shoulder. It took a while to rehabilitate and through gentle weight work outs it got better and was pronounced healed. Unfortunately, for me, as I got off the tube in London at Picadilly Station, my "port" (Australian for case) tumbled and rolled as I exited taking my right shoulder with it. I knew I had probably torn a deltoid muscle and was very careful for the rest of the trip. After getting back I started again to rehabilitate.

All was going well until a couple or three things happened in a row. After such a hot summer, the weeds had all but taken over so we had a week end where we all were in the yard, paddock and pool area cleaning up. I love being outside, and although I do not have the greatest green thumb, love the garden. So, I pulled up weeds and cut back stuff and woke up with a very painful shoulder. Let it rest was the cure. So I did. Nothing strenuous on the right shoulder for the next two weeks. Then, unexpectedly, I found dancing the tango for four hours was not great for muscle injuries. I am in a play and am playing a cranky, crusty old lady who throws away her walking stick to do the tango.

I awoke the next morning after dancing and twirling my Saturday away, to find I could not lift my right arm. Another bad decision to take advantage of a birthday gift of a personal trainer just two days later sealed my fate. I am now hoping and praying as I sit here with an ice pack on my shoulder that the cortisone shot from my Orthopedic Doctor kicks in real soon.

So along with my pain, which by the way when you have nine kids at home and the cleaning, cooking and washing that goes with that, I had Isaiah testing the "sagging" pants yet again for the umpteenth time in the last year. Because he is very privileged to attend a private Christian school, this is a suspension offense. He somewhat jovially informed me he learned this while he was back in Africa. He had also informed me several times that his former adoptive family had said we couldn't control him. I guess that meant without beating. He has learned a lesson this week. Don't believe all you are told.

I decided that I would not take his "word" for his size in pants, but rather have his dad measure his waist and remove all pants that were above his waist size. Just a simple thing really. I took a tape measure to the store and after finding his waist size was 27 and a bit ", nothing over 29" was allowed in his cupboard. I then measured every pair of pants I bought to replace most of the 32" shorts he had scored from the older boys who are much bigger and taller. I have to say, we have come a long way, because the next morning when he came down in his school uniform, he grinned at me and said his pants really felt funny because it was a long time since he could feel them fit his waist. This is great news for me because at the very least I do not have to look at most of his rear end when he climbs over to the back seat.

School has been challenging for my three older boys this year. Isaiah is realizing for the first time that his teachers all know me ( I teach drama at school) and because of that I am the "mum" who knows most if not everything. No more skipping homework, or not turning in stuff, or pretending he doesn't know what's on the board. Ah, he just might get an education out of this. The twins have been struggling with adjusting to a new school as well as adapting the schedule, homework, and all the rest that goes with ninth grade, along with their learning disabilities. They have severe receptive/expressive language disorder and we put them back in public school to be able to receive the help they needed in school. They were given and accepted in the special needs learning program, but when we went to find the appropriate school for them, we found that they were not going to get the help they needed because of education cost cuts.

And on top of that, my Aspergers' child has informed me she gets on better with the kids in eight grade, so can she skip a grade and be with them. I did tell her that when she gets a 100% in all subjects we will consider that. The younger four are back in tutoring (they are all dyslexic) so that leaves Alicia, the A student being just as easy as can be and a true joy amongst the sometimes anxious times of wondering just how God will work it out. Thank goodness He does, and I don't have to. Just be annoying mum from time to time.

School begins, vacation ends

2010-08-21T07:56:00.000-04:00

We arrived home from our adventure in London and Scotland on Tuesday evening still amazed at the events that had happened. Just briefly, we had flown into London and had arrived the previous Thursday around lunch. This was the longest time (6 days) that Rog and I had had together alone, in 30 years. We got to reunite with friends after the theatre that night, get on the train to Durham the next morning to stay with a cousin I had never met, and begin what seemed like a very orchestrated few days.

We arrived in Durham, Northern England, and instantly clicked with my cousin Les and his wife Edna. The next day or so we saw the sights of Durham, including the most magnificent cathedral that is 1000 years old. And, as if it was planned, the choir just happened to be rehearsing as we entered this wonderful, breathtaking church. Les, knowing I was a singer, had invited some of his Scottish and English friends around that evening for a jam session. We sang scottish songs, country songs with a scottish accent and listened to Les play the Northumbrian Pipes. It was and evening we won't forget. Rog played base and we all sang along until around midnight.

We got up early the next morning and headed up to Scotland to find Carmunnock where Roger's great grandparents had lived and his grandmother had been born. On the way we found Gretna Green, our scottish clan symbols, which of course we brought home, and finally Carmunnock. There were two things Rog wanted to see here, that was "Coulters Wood" which was named after his grandfather's family, and his grandmother's house that we knew was still standing and had seen photo's of on the internet.

We saw the welcome sign to Carmunnock and pulled in to take a photo. What a surprise for us. Right behind the sign was another one through a little gate that said "Coulters Wood". After that we went on to find a charming old church where there was a wedding, piper and a graveyard. We found his great grandparents gravestone, before walking on to find his grandmothers birth home commonly called "The Crawford House". Event after event lead us to meet his mum's first cousin and see multiple family photo albums. It was an amazing day that seemed to have been planned for us before we began. Of course, God's timing is perfect. We had planned this trip last year, and because of Isaiah joining the family, it all had to be put on hold until we felt it was the right time. So although we celebrated our 30th anniversary almost at our 31st, it could not have been planned better.

We went on just three miles to find Les and my grandmother's village, Shettlestone, which was now swallowed up in the Glasgow ghettos. What a difference in just three miles. Of course, Carmunnock is a preserved villiage, where the other is not. It was like two different worlds. We visited Hadrians wall on the way back and spent our last night having dinner together in Durham at a wonderful Thai restaurant. We will remember this trip for a long time. A big thanks of course goes to Shaun and Laura our eldest son and his wife, for taking on the challenge of 9 kids, 6 dogs, 6 goats, 2 horses and 10 chickens!

We came home to school, and the usual routine. We have all nine going to the small private Christian school most have gone to now for several years. Isaiah and the boys started there with the others this year. Of course the boys have attended here before but because of their special needs needed to go back to the public system for assessment to be able to get the help in their education that was needed. Isaiah, has been at a special school called the Welcome Center that is designed for non-english speaking children to assimilate into the normal school system. While he learned a lot last year, he is certainly facing huge challenges this year with the amount of reading he has to do. So it's up and at 'em again for the next school year and what it brings.

R & R

2010-08-16T06:38:00.000-04:00

I am sitting on the train from Durham back to London in the UK where Rog and I have had some much needed R & R. It has been the most wonderful amazing time I think we have ever had. We had thought for some time we would like to come to Scotland to look up our parents ancestors and follow up and try to find some of the questions we had not solved in our family trees.

We knew we wanted to come to a little now "preserved" village called Carmunnock which is really on the outskirts or part of Glasgow. This is where Roger's great grandparents were born and emigrated to Australia round early 1900's. My grandmother on my Mum's side was born just three or so miles up the road in the village of Shettlestone so it seemed appropriate to look for both sides of the tree.

I wanted to see a show in the West End and amazingly upon asking for advice re hotels etc from a friend who had lived in London for some time, we found out from him that some other friends from Australia were currently in London. Colin and his wife Genn were there because she was playing the role of Mrs Wilkinson in the musical "Billy Elliott". There began a series of events for our trip that we could never have planned or imagined. For those of you who don't know I grew up in professional theatre in Australia and have recently returned to that part of the industry. I had worked with Colin and his first wife Lennie, but didn't know Genn. Before we knew it we were booked to go to Billy Elliott and had arranged to meet Colin and Genn at the backstage door after the play.

We thought we would then hire a car and drive up to Scotland, but I then remembered that a "lost" cousin had turned up in the last few years and I thought he lived in Northern England. I was right. He lived just 130 miles from "Carmunnock". A phone call and an email had us arriving at his place the day after we arrived in London and had been to Billy Elliott. The car turned into the very fast convenient train service and there we began our incredible journey.

2010-06-08T23:11:00.000-04:00

Well, we just realized that our little Jack Russell (wire haired) who was "left" inside our top gate is probably deaf. She is very white, but has some black markings even if they are little. God must think we can cope with all kinds of special needs. I guess I need to do some reading on this one. We only started to wonder because she is very quiet for a Jack Russell, hardly ever barks, and seemed to not attend to us all when we called. She had been very well cared for, not at all hungry or thirsty when we found her a couple of weeks ago sitting quietly inside our top gate.

Upon taking her to the vet, we found she was about 4 or 5 months of age, and already spayed, which means she has had shots etc. We have put signs up and looked for signs but somehow we knew that she wasn't a stray or a lost dog. Perhaps, as our vet put it, our farm was closer than North Georgia! I think we stopped wondering when this evening, when all the dogs were barking within a couple of feet of her, she was totally oblivious while jumping up on our grandson Hunter. They had heard something and were more than usually distressed because we have just oiled our back deck and they couldn't get out the doggie door.

So, I guess she joins the family. Our twin boys have already looked up hand signs for dogs and have begun work. They all love her, she is very sweet. That officially makes me a "sucker" with a big S on my forehead!

We have been oiling our back deck in the last couple of days, we have Brazillian hardwood, 50 by 15 foot of it. So it has been literally "all hands on deck". On top of that, I have been cast in an amazing British play and started rehearsals. Only 50 odd pages to learn in two weeks. On top of that I am teaching drama next week at our church in the mornings at Theater/Arts Camp. Tonight, I had my songwriting meeting for the NSAI and leave with my amazing hubbie in the morning for 24 hours to attend the CMT awards in Nashville.

Life is busy on the suburban farm, with goats to milk (thank you Laura for tomorrow night) kids to cook for, chickens to chase, and horses who always look for treats! And there is always a song to write, or a hook to save, a fish to catch, washing out of my ears to do, kids (goats) to feed bottles to three times a day! Life is what you make it, I personally prefer it "over full" because then my cup runneth over.

2010-06-06T21:52:00.000-04:00

OK This has been a difficult year to say the least. I thought adding 1 or 2 did not alter much, but, I was wrong. I have had a successful personal year, but dealing with the couple of extra kids from the African busted adoption? Not easy. The biggest challenge I have had is the fact that when normal kids go to school at kindergarten or pre-school, they are beginning a work ethic. Yes, I said a work ethic. They are given tasks to do and complete and hand in. In a nut shell that is a work ethic. By the time they graduate either high school or college, they have held down jobs and understand that they are REQUIRED to complete tasks in a reasonable time frame.

When you live in Africa, on the poverty minus scale, or in an adoption that does not give you formal schooling in any way, home schooled or other, then you do not learn a work ethic. It took me many months for GOD to reveal this to my poor overwhelmed brain. I was so nickled and dimed that I couldn't see the wood for the trees. I kept forgiving and HOPING!!!! The hope method by the way does not work. But, I am a person who loves a challenge and the good Lord knows that. So, for me, this was not give up but fight forward.

We tried therapy, especially with Isaiah, but he fooled or charmed the therapist. Well, we've been there done that, and quickly realized that there had to be another course. School, which he was so blessed to be given the opportunity to attend a Welcome Center, also called me in and said "What's with this kid?" In the end, it came down to no work ethic. No family understanding. What is that anyway if you have just survived all of your life? While I had sympathy for this, it was not working in our family on a daily basis for him or for us. I might say here, that Isaiah is still in our family. (Just so you keep reading)

CeCe, the older sister, wanted to live a lifestyle not appropriate for family life and moved out. Communication was sparse and difficult at first but thank God, is being restored as she realizes that life outside the family, making your own decisions, paying for yourself, is not what it is cracked up to be. I am still befuddled about Isaiah and CeCe's bonded relationship. I have come to realize that the whole war, poverty, lack of infrastructure of a torn country, and family that cannot support their children to the extent of leaving them in orphanages, has had it's toll. It's not attachment disorder but something similar. I call it survival disorder.

On a positive note, my other eight have coped with the next two amazingly. My older children have been nothing but a support and encouragement when I have felt how do I break through the barriers and defenses these children have put up. I do not blame or fault them for all of these coping mechanisms, but, in family life, I can tell you it is a challenge you cannot cope with on a human level. Only by the grace and goodness of God can this end up where HE ordained. I hope, no know, that the plan will come to pass, if only I can have the patience and understanding to get there.

By the way, we now have 2 horses, 7 dogs (one dumped on our little farm a couple of weeks ago) 2 Nigerian dwarf yearlings, which I milk morning and night, and 4 baby Nigerian goats who are bottle fed three times a day. Here is a link to the "kids feeding the kids".

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PtUIdYgmads

It's the start of something??????????

2009-12-05T18:31:00.000-05:00

I seem to be sitting at airports often these days. Well at least two in the last five months or so. Rog and I have just had a wonderful 24 hours away to celebrate a good friends wedding. Lucky for us our eldest son is as game as we are and came down to the "farm" with his two kids to add to our 9 at home while we got some "r&r". As it would happen in these circumstances where you feel you are out on the free, but time clock pass, our plane is delayed.

So since I haven't written a blog in what seems like forever this is the perfect time to do so. It has been very hectic in our house hold fitting a new child in and getting him settled with relationships and with school. Everything to him looks and feels so overwhelming and an insurmountable struggle. But after 9 weeks at school he is doing very well, both scholastically, and emotionally. We were concerned because his older sister decided our rules were not falling into line with hers, so consequently moved out. We are still in touch, but it is a concern as she is very uneducated and in danger of falling into the trap of thinking she can only have babies and get a man. Now not that I think that is not good if it is the right timing, but for her it would be very hard, almost impossible, with no work skills and very little education. We pray for her each day and leave it in God's very capable hands. He brought her to us, I am sure He has a plan for her.

I was completely impressed with a new documentary that was talked about on the Opra show last week regarding the poverty, war and criminal activity in the form of rape with African women. I learned so much as to why these young girls and women grow up in abusive, poverty stricken circumstances where childbirth is exceedingly dangerous and food is scarce. It makes Isaiah's stories of being constantly hungry while he was back in Liberia very real. Also it made me sit up and realize that the life size poster I saw at the Atlanta airport, with an African woman on it, and the words "women, the most untapped natural resource in the world" was true. It made the quest to educate an "African girl" come right to my home and doorstep. I hope we are not too late with CeCe and she can overcome the poverty teachings of the past and continue on in her apprenticeship to educate her and not run away to the easiest out.

I have been having a wonderful time with drama and music both in community theater as well as at my children's school. I must be mad!! I took on the task of directing "Bah Humbug" the musical to 31 students at my kids school. We have five rehearsals before tech. I am wondering how it will all fall into place, knowing that it will. We are in the midst of costumes, props and set. Lighting to be plotted next week and sound sorted out. And my wonderful husband Rog flies out to London for a couple of days on Monday. Sometimes I wonder how it all happens. I know it is only by the grace of God. But thank goodness for the laughs and tears on the way.

2009-10-13T23:43:00.000-04:00

Just had a wonderful "tech week" rehearsal for Wife Begins At Forty. This is sort of like a British "Sitcom" story, reminds me of "Fawlty Towers" for those who follow John Cleese. This is my first director spot for this great community theater I have been involved with for over a year now. It is up for the M.A.T. Awards (translated that is the Metropolitan Atlanta Theater Awards) so every detail has to be "just so". I have a brilliant or "brill" cast who have been a dream to direct, and the most amazing set designer who just "does" it.

I have been just impressed by friends of cast and cast members, who have turned up consistently to paint and help the designer build the set, which is just a hard job and not the set designers, but mine to do. My lighting guy, has a dad, who is dying of cancer in hospital, and we just didn't get things done today because they were deciding his next and last couple of months in this life. There is this little darling girl or young lady I should say, who is an intern at the theater where we are performing, who is coming in and running the sound effects (of which there are many) for most of each performance. I'm thinking she has a "curfew" of sorts because she disappears at the same time every night. And then, guess whose job it becomes. Not that I object, I am somewhat a perfectionist, and like to know exactly what happens and make sure it happens when it is supposed to.

Tonight, my eldest at home, was having a crisis, because Rog and I felt that something that she REALLY wanted to do, was just too "risky". She is 18 going on 30 but about 13 when it comes to relationships with the opposite sex. So, cutting a long story short, my amazing husband had stepped in a couple of months ago to fulfill the role of the "somewhat demented grandad" and we have been having this wonderful time together going to rehearsals, but tonight we not only went ourselves, but took nine kids with us to the quiet please "dry run" of performance. I can honestly say, I would rather not repeat that. Not that they were awful, in a house of our magnitude there has to be order and discipline, but wearing so many hats has it's disadvantages.

Might I add, that our "three legged" dog is also in the show. She is more needy than the kids. Oh, isn't life amazing and wonderful and full of surprises. It would be good though, if I could get notice on the next taking nine kids to rehearsal surprise.

2009-10-07T21:11:00.000-04:00

Have you ever had so much to say you don't know where to begin? I can't believe how busy the last couple of weeks have been. Rog has had two business friends come to stay one leaving, and one coming within a couple days of each other, we "tried" to celebrate our 30th wedding anniversary, and as well, I felt that because of several circumstances, our twin nine year olds needed to come home to school this year.

Let me tell you just a little about our miraculous 9 year old twins. I first found out about them when they were still in hospital struggling for their life. When they came to us at 9 weeks of age, (they were born at 31 weeks addicted to cocaine and alcohol) they were on fetal heart monitors, and one of them was on oxygen. At nine and a half weeks of age, they weighed 4 whole pounds. They were on "minor" reflux medicine and looked so fragile I didn't know whether they would break when I picked them up.

The first night we had them, the "people" forgot to tell me about the monitors that told me when they stopped breathing. The heart rates and oxygen rates were set too low, so about every ten minutes after we went to bed at oh, around midnight, their monitors went off. Now this is not a little, nice, alarm, it is one of those sounds that brings you upright from a sound sleep of oh, around 10 minutes or so and you jump so violently out of bed because you think the baby or babies have stopped breathing. At three in the morning we found the monitor people and called. Well what do you know, the rates were set too low. So we reset everything, at three in the morning, and went back to sleep for a few minutes before they awoke again.

One, Jada, could not suck so feeding her took around an hour or so. I would feed the other one, Alexis, and she would struggle to suck, swallow and breathe at the same time, and then throw the whole bottle up on the bed. We soon learned not to feed them without copious towels surrounding every area of the bed that we could find. Rog would take Jada, and would I feed Alexis once, then clean up, feed her again (because she had thrown up the whole bottle) then Rog would hand over Jada and I would put my finger on her cheek and my thumb on her jaw and emulate a sucking action so she would get her bottle. I think I averaged about two hours of sleep. I can only say that the Man upstairs was looking not only after them, but me as well.

I could tell you countless stories and miracles that we have been blessed to be part of with these two amazing and incredulous children, but that would take three pages, which I am sure you would not want to read in this blog. You can read that in my book "Is Eight Enough (God Knows and He ain't Telling) available from Amazon. But, in telling those short small things in their journey, I could not let them stay in their very wonderful school with a teacher that just was "not the right fit".

Jada has been "ticking" with a blink and a jerk of her head for some time but it had increased to not ever stopping, and Alexis, was very changed, grumpy, tearful and even rude at times which just is not these precious little girls. Then there was the "straw that broke the camels back" and Rog and I decided they would come home to be schooled. This is not the first we have done this with our children, but in every case that we have made this decision, it has worked beyond what we ever thought could happen.

So, along with the 30th, and the guests, and the school troubles, we have survived yet again. My schedule has changed, but I can honestly say my little wonders, are laughing, learning and such a joy in my life. (Oh, and Jada's tick is greatly diminished! And, Alexis is back to her happy, smiling little self.)

2009-10-02T23:30:00.000-04:00

Well, here I am sitting here, at oh 11.00p.m. and the house is quiet. There is a reason for that. We are celebrating thirty years of marriage tonight and we sent all of the younger children to the older children. It was our actual anniversary last Monday, 28th September, but, well you know how that goes. Or maybe you don't.

Last Monday, our anniversary, we had planned to be in Scotland, digging up our ancestry and looking up distant cousins etc. But, there was a little fly in the ointment, oh and then another. We knew we could not leave Isaiah at this time, but on top of that, one of Rogers' long time friends, and business associate, was in town and stayed with us for a few days. So, on actual anniversary, I cooked, smiled, cleaned and looked on as Rog and his friend, talked all sorts of business things through, and waited, hoped and planned there would be a tonight.

We had the most wonderful, if somewhat expensive dinner, and talked or tried to talk about anything other than the kids. Well, we did talk about the play, just a little bit, but when you have ten kids, with needs that are all unusual, it inevitably comes back to "the kids". But, there was that moment when one of the older kids called, needing something, and hoping he wasn't interrupting anything, then, we get home, open a nice bottle of wine, and end up chatting on face book to a couple of the others. We must be demented or brainwashed or both.

I must say I love life. I am so looking forward to the comedy I am directing. Just worked out the curtain calls, sitcom style and laughing out loud as I picture it in my mind. Have been sitting here with Rog, as he chats and I chat online to our kids, having a glass of wine, appreciating the love, the laughter, the sad times and all that the last thirty years have brought us. I wouldn't change anything. I am so blessed.

2009-10-01T02:50:00.000-04:00

It's one of those nights where I have a million things running through my brain, and so many great things happening, I sometimes wonder where to start, let alone finish. Today, was "drama" day and I started directing my little theater company I started at my kids school. "The Lighthouse Theater Company" presents!!! We have had auditions, and the read through, and today we got up on that stage and started "Bah Humbug" the musical.

I have not worked with a lot of kids in pretend drama, mostly kids in real dramas! I decided I would definitely get myself a microphone so I could be heard above the excited, visiting voices of thirty odd kids ranging from 6 to 16. So we blocked half of the first song in an hour, and I have decided that we need a little more time to achieve what we have planned. Of course, it will get boring for them at some time, not all of them have lines and in theater you do sit around waiting a lot of the time, unless you have a small cast.

At the same time I am directing a British comedy which has four rehearsals before tech week. That's the week where everything comes together in the theater and you add all the props, the lighting, the set, the sound effects and hope it all works! Today, before drama rehearsal, I had a production meeting in the morning and set out with my friend and leading lady to hunt for some "stuff" for our set. We bought the most AWFUL couch, which when I saw it I just knew we had to have it. It cost the whole of $38.93. I then found the worst looking curtains you could possible imagine to go with this loud red, blue, orange and green big flowered pattern couch. The play talks a lot about how dreadful the curtains are.

I have certainly tested my abilities in this play, I have sculpted a "roman girl carrying a bowl" and painted a canvas that can be likened to the couch. I have also written a "theme" song similar to those found accompanying British sitcoms. It has been so much fun and a definite break from the general hustle and bustle of raising ten kids at home and four on the perimeter with the grandchildren popping in as well here and there. Now, I will say, my artistic work has to be seen to be believed, but I think it will be popular at the auction to raise money for our company, as the best white elephants there! Or at least the "joke" items.

We had record floods last week, and needless to say I am glad that all is back to normal including the muddy pool, which is blue once more. The weather is turning cool, which I love, but with it comes dealing with how the change of season affects my children with bi-polar. The spring and the fall, always bring challenges as the light begins to change and moods begin to swing. During all the rain that fell, and mud that slid, my one really challenged child had the worst time I have seen her have in a long time. For a couple of days, it really looked like she would have to go to inpatient treatment, but thank God, we have avoided that and reverted to alternate plan B, which is Mr. Risperdal. (a common drug used for bi-polar and other similar disorders). I am often speechless when well meaning people come up and say, "Oh she'll get over it."

Isaiah is doing better with school work, but struggling in other areas. He is responding to a routine and structure along with boundaries, which he sometimes pushes to see whether he will get a "beating" or not. It brings back memories of our fostering days, when kids come into care from neglected and abusive situations, and try to re-create the very circumstances they came from. Harmony and peace do not come easily to ones who have lived with fighting, and uncertainty. What's that song? "It Takes Time". Yes it does, but when I look back to the end of July and where he was then, he has travelled a long way and I know he has not been saved from certain death in Africa, for no purpose.

2009-09-24T23:56:00.000-04:00

Ok, well what a week or two. The first week I got some dreaded lurgy (Australian for bug, flu, cold, whatever) but not the swine flu, thank God and then before I really got better, Rog gets a loverly email from his work saying that, 'Oh gee, you need to be "somewhere" in a couple of days'. Well I am usually well and truly able to step up to the plate and said "you go honey" knowing that I cope, I am the anchor here, no worries, we'll manage". But, I did not expect what the second week had to bring. Rain, torrential rain, floods, roofs leaking, pools, full of mud, kids crying, scared about just driving home from school. And one, the special one, not coping at all, and doctor in charge saying "hospital" maybe residential hospital. Just a little much for one not quite better.

Of course, Rog just "knew" and never left the airport after the skyping and phone calls. Our new roof leaked about 3 gallons of water in a twelve hour period, the pond over the road from our house, spring fed just like ours, was overflowing torrents of water. Not that that in itself was frightening, but a couple of months ago, in another storm, a very big old tree came down dislodging a root and causing a slow trickle from the side of the dam wall that holds that particular pond. The drains were clogged, too much debris coming down, and between the children, the dogs, the horses and the water that was in waterfalls down the stairs beside our house, and the water gushing over the pond over the road and down the road, the river in the front yard, as well as our child possibly off to hospital, and having to look after the other nine, it was a little overwhelming for just one little me. I thought hospital looked good for me!

On top of that, Isaiah was having a big problem, which was a danger to him and to the others, so I was having to watch him like a hawk, and be the big "momma bear" as well. That, has turned out better than expected, but after sitting and talking and counseling and tearing my hair out, there was a lot revealed and a lot resolved. But, am I somewhere between mad and disillusioned with a system that I have always thought worked in at least our county? Through this "revelation" I am now wondering just what some parts of the Department of Children's services actually does work. Now, I have no complaints where we live, I have found the system of Department of Family and Children's Services to be very responsive and supportive. But, where he comes from previously, small county in Tennessee, I am not so sure any more.

He has revealed, as suspected by us, that his former "adoptive mother" has been inappropriate with him. If this was a father here, there would be cries of protest of abuse, but how far does this have to go before some one says "enough". We have discovered not only he, but his older sister, and all the others have been beaten with a rubber hose, that animals are treated cruelly, they are not schooled, they beat each other up when there are disagreements, and there is no respect, no manners, no knowledge of behavior that is socially accepted. And they are so called "christians". Not in my church. No wonder people think christians are strange.

After two months, he still eats like there is no food tomorrow and hopes his shirts are getting tighter because he is getting taller. We are working out how to let him down gently. I am sorry to say, that his protein intake for the most of his life in Africa, and certainly all of his previous life in the USA, is sadly lacking. That is because his previous adoptive family, have a "new way of eating". It's sad that this has resulted in all of their birth children being born with bad teeth from lack of nutrition in-utro. This family still sells videos of "how to eat nutritiously" on the internet and within their circles of influence. When, and how, does that stop. It's like hackers on the internet, that conn innocent people, looking for a miracle.

I am convinced he really has been somewhat brainwashed, and we are dealing with a "cult" mentality. Only youth is suckered into this thought process, because of their need to be accepted, recognized, praised and least of all, but most importantly, Loved. Their view of love, is distorted and performance orientated. I pray that I have the ability, and guidance from God to cope with this.

2009-09-20T09:24:00.000-04:00

I am sitting here with the rain pouring down outside and even at 9.00a.m. it is still a little dark. I can't believe the kids are all still asleep. I can hear a footstep or two but no little faces have popped their heads around the corner yet. We should be off to church, but there is so much water outside, I think we would have to swim to the car! So I guess we are playing hooky this morning.

They will all appear soon, as they will wake up to the lovely smell of home made french toast casserole in the oven. On Sundays I try to prepare a little ahead of time, because getting ten kids out the door to church all dressed and presentable is no small effort.

2009-09-14T22:11:00.000-04:00

Well tonight I have been extremely creative for the British comedy I am directing in October. In this hilarious play, Linda the wife, starts taking classes after kicking her husband out the door. Now the props call for "a sculpture of a roman girl with a bowl" and a novice painting. After looking around the antique mall and the thrift store, I decided that if such a sculpture and painting were to be authentic, then perhaps I should take up sculpting and remember art class from my youth.

The funny thing about the sculpture is, it is used as an ashtray, so it's not so good. We had the most riotous time in the kitchen tonight making a bake in the oven sculpture. It is definitely a "roman" girl because of the nose we gave her. The bowl is perhaps a tad large but who cares, we do have to use it for an ashtray and a deposit for some rather gross sandwiches. I can say I named the painting "passion" by Linda, the wife, and I don't think I will sign the sculpture. Perhaps I should, then it could become memorabilia of the most famous British play that won all the awards in 2009. Of course it would have to be signed by "Linda" to be authentic. I must add, it really is ugly.

We have had such an adventurous week I can't remember much of it! Isaiah is trying very hard at school and is doing very well. He so wants to be the very best he can, and does his homework, unless he can't understand it. Mostly that is math, he is learning his spelling quickly, and really practicing his writing skills of which there was not many. He tries so hard to please, which I understand, as he is the middle child the same as myself. His struggles just to be noticed and complimented are sad sometimes. I wonder how a child can get to 13 years of age, and be so uneducated in so many ways. But, God is good, and His mercy endures for ever, and His mercy is surely reigning down on Isaiah.

Just a short week ago, he decided to challenge or try out our methods of discipline. It was labor day weekend and Ce Ce our 18 year old (and his older sister) had friends drive over from North Carolina. She had known one of them from the orphanage in Liberia, where both of them came from, and his friend, who she had met briefly when she was living in N.C. She was very excited to see familiar faces as she has not made very many friends here her own age. Well our Isaiah, felt a little left out. It was like one of those episodes on TV where the central character realizes his name has not been mentioned or he has not been interviewed for a little time. He sat in the corner literally, and had a very pouty look. Upon reminding him these friends were his older sisters, and much older than him, he got even more pouty. As the day wore on into the next one, he realized that we were not going to tolerate his behavior. He, over a period of 12 hours, lost his beloved camera ( a gift from Dustin, one of our older twins), and all his technical rights (TV and computer).

Before this, when he had been punished he had been beaten, or if something was taken from him, he never saw it again. In fact, I know that when he was sent back to Africa, he had bought a camera with his own money and it was taken from him before he left. He considers himself a photographer so taking this particular item hits hard. Anyway, he thought very hard about his behavior and within 48 hours decided that he would change it.

What was the saddest thing was, when I gave him back his camera and his privileges for changing, he looked at the camera, looked back at me, looked again at his camera, and then with almost tears in his eyes said, "I never thought you would give this back". Needless to say, since then, I have had a child who is listening and trying to behave just as we need him too.

2009-09-10T21:58:00.000-04:00

Just came off the front porch with my amazing 18 year old Ce Ce. She had her first date last week-end which was somewhat fun and confusing. Ce Ce may be 18 but she's really going on 30. Isaiah is her younger brother and from about the age of 9 she raised not only him, but a younger sister( who at that time was only about 12 months of age) until they were adopted into a family here in the U.S.A. She has sacrificed as only a mother can do, she has defended, as only a mother can do, and protected, as only a mother can do, for her younger brother and sister. She thinks much older, but wants to have what is rightfully hers, some fun, and attention, as a beautiful young woman.

In saying that, she is somewhat not familiar with the dating game as it is today, and not prepared either. Two of her friends came from North Carolina, one who she knew in the orphanage in Liberia, and another she had met when she was abandoned by her first family and forced to go and live in N.C. She was looking forward to a couple of days of catching up and having some fun, going to a movie etc., but found her ideas were somewhat different from theirs. Luckily she has a Mum and a Dad she could turn to, who could explain some of the facts of our time. She is working out keeping those friendships without hurting feelings.

Isaiah, in recognizing he did not have any privileges left, decided, quite rightly that maybe he should change his tune. What was sad in all of this, was when I gave him back his camera (which is never off his person) he looked at it and back at me and said very quietly, "I didn't think you would give that back". I have since found out that his previous U.S. family, took away but never gave back. That is not discipline, it is mean. Discipline and structure is " the carrot and the stick" meaning the stick is not a big rubber hose, or whipping belt, but something you "pray" or "think" about, not use in anger because you can't think of anything else. I am glad he has learned this lesson for this time, I fear we "will" go here again several times before he gets it.

Today I posted "casting" for my play at the Christian School where 6 of my kids attend. This is an exciting adventure for all of us. We are doing a musical version of "Scrooge" and I will keep you posted on what happens as all of this unfolds. From day one (two weeks ago) to now, more and more of them seem to want to join the ranks with Mum and become an actor, singer or dancer, whichever fits, and be part of a new adventure that I seem to have stumbled upon.

Since starting this blog and finishing it, Rog and I have had a wonderful and funny conversation with Isaiah, who still is trying to figure it all out. How can we love him, in spite of him doing annoying things on a regular basis, not getting the eating (not with our hands) thing, the manners thing, the sharing thing, the being one of family thing, the just being yourself thing. It takes time; that we have (hopefully) a lot of. Tonight I feel I have imparted so much of the things I have learned into two young lives. Whether they realize what we have offered is probably the same time frame as all of our others. Suddenly they got to about 22, and said "Gee, Mum and Dad, you learned a lot in the last year!"

2009-09-07T22:51:00.000-04:00

Well today brought many things to deal with, both easy, fun and the tough ones as well. Our beautiful 18 year old had her first sort of "date" today. Her "friend" drove all the way from North Carolina with his friend to see her. They knew each other back in Liberia in the orphanage days and both were lucky enough to find their way out of that mess and into families here to make new lives. It was wonderful to see her smile and be a normal teenager enjoying the company of friends the same age.

We cooked a big BBQ dinner as well as African food to go along with the usual fare. I am still somewhat amused that my little ones will eat this "hot! Hot! HOT!" African food and say yum yum! We had some of our older kids and grandkids join us along with their extended families to just share good times and make memories. I am always tired at the end of these sort of days, but am never sorry that we had them. In the midst of this, our newest addition Isaiah is having the end of the very short, brief honeymoon period that all new kids to the family have.

Unfortunately, along with no schooling, the family he came from believed in beating their children. In fact, there is no other form of discipline other than the children are put outside the house (whether it is winter or summer) to fend for themselves. They sleep in the car when this happens and I am surprised that no-one has frozen to death or died from the heat that builds up in the car during summer. So having that sort of environment for the last few years, topped off with Africa, where people are hungry and homeless and will do anything for food or clothing, he is having a struggle with how life works in our family.

Obviously, in his young mind, he has to fight to be the top dog otherwise he dies or has no food or no privileges. Well we have "labradors" for our older twins who just want to please, wag their tails and obey. They have never been anything else. But, they do understand respect, which he does not, and they are quite fierce in demanding it from him. As my Rog says, who is a second dan black belt, it's like a naturally stronger lower belt challenging a higher rank. It's not about strength, or experiences of life, but about the pecking order. You respect your elders, have manners, and obey the rules of the house or else you lose your rank and privileges.

He lost them today. We have never had a physical fight in the family between any of the 60 odd children who have passed through it or in the children who have become ours. Today, he had the second of his "challenges" to try to upset the order and found himself not being beaten, which is a quick sting that has no lasting effect other than to teach a child to beat someone else, but deprived of every privilege he was granted, along with our trust, when he came to live with us. He lost TV, computer (other than school work) and his beloved camera which he "convinced" one of the twins to give over just shortly after he arrived. He has little reading skills, so guess what, he now reads instead of all these fun things. As well, I explained to him, that if you want to give "sh*t" to everyone, then we have two horses that you can pick up after on a regular basis until you want to change your mind. By the way, he is not the first to get this punishment. I believe, very strongly, that children need to respect each other as well as their parents. The family is sacred, and too many people treat their friends better than their family. What's wrong with that?

Last time I looked, when you get into real trouble, if you have a faithful committed family, they are ones who pick up after you and stand by you, no matter what. So what is it these days, that it seems that it is accepted to treat your own family badly, let out all your abuse and anger and whatever, and treat your friends like they were royalty. It's the wrong way round. And I don't know and can't imagine or judge what has happened before in Isaiah's life, but he needs to know that this family does not attack itself, but is a strong unit that trusts and respects each other.

I also have many questions as to why this family that he has come from do not have to answer to anyone for lack of education and the obvious abuse to children. He is burdened with "secrets and lies" which is obviously eating him up and stopping him from moving on. How can people get away with this? I can only hope that he can sometime soon be able to rid himself of all the "weight" he is carrying around for the sake of these parents who are hiding from the current century and living in a "fairy tale" existence, that they regularly preach in seminars, to unsuspecting people who are looking for a better way to live. They didn't give it to him, or five other African teenagers who left or who were deemed by Social Services not to return, so how come they are experts who receive "donations" for giving information they don't follow themselves.

Isn't it common knowledge in our country that there is "no child left behind". Maybe we need to increase the pay for social workers so they can do their job and get to all of the children who are not only being left behind, but are being abused in the process.

Tonight, I have a son who is confused and sad, but knows that I love him, expecting that he does not have to love me. But, expecting that he respect the family and lose the attitude.

2009-09-06T23:01:00.000-04:00

Catch me tomorrow, today was a blast but hectic.

2009-09-05T22:18:00.000-04:00

Well today was one of those days where you seem to just turn in circles. Way down the back of our property there is a creek which runs from and to a line of spring fed ponds, two of which are on our land. We are lucky enough to have large mouth? (so I am told) bass, which the children catch and throw back. So they are often down there and exploring. Now along the creek there is a lot of overgrown stuff, blackberries, and thorns, lots of poison ivy and just a lot of branches and sticks which our previous rather eccentric neighbor put there trying to dissuade anyone from entering over the boundaries.

Our neighbor, who thank goodness has been gone for about three months, seemed to have an irrational fear that someone would put one step across the boundary between her property and ours. We would wake up, go for a stroll down to the pond with our morning coffee and find that somewhere in the night, there had appeared ugly and quite extensive barriers with at least three or four "Keep Out Private Property" signs plastered up at the "line" between them and us. She was a little grey haired, quite nosy lady who we nickname the "Grey Harpie". Of course when we saw them on occasion together (she did have a husband but I don't think he had much to say) Rog would exclaim, "There's the grey harpie and her consort!" I wondered why she would think we would want to put a foot over the boundary. There certainly wasn't a friendly face or afternoon tea.

When we were extending our place and almost at move in (the kitchen stuff was all there) I rolled up one Sunday afternoon to see just how close we were to moving in, and she was parked in the driveway. She had actually somehow found entrance and could tell me all about how lovely my kitchen appliances were. I thought she was just a friendly old neighbor and took her for a tour of the house. I don't think she spoke or did a neighborly thing after that. So we came to the conclusion she was just "the grey harpie" with her own set of "unusual" issues.

So getting back to the creek, since they have abandoned the property which is for sale, my kids had ventured to the creek through the branches and sticks and found a cute little bridge that went across the creek and entered into their side of the property line. Unfortunately, the two little friendly horses who follow them around also found the cute little bridge and lots of long grass on the other side. So today was spent building yet another fence to keep them in. There are no fences on the other side so not wise to let them roam, although they would munch their way through the very long and unkept pasture on that side. On reflection, maybe we would be doing the real estate agent and the bank a favor in letting them eat the grass back to a reasonable state.

So we built a fence. Rog is getting to be quite the "farmer Joe" these days between his veggie garden and building fences for the horses. He even looked the part in his up to the thighs waders so he could build it into the pond. He did that not for the horses but the goats he wants! Haven't got them or the chickens yet. Thought I would get used to the horses first. My little girls just had a wonderful time. They put the bridles on the horses, Lady Bug and Angel, and them led them back to our place. They really are very friendly and love those little girls. They followed obediently without any fuss and loved being led around the pasture while Rog quickly put a temporary barrier in place and raced to the hardware and got the materials he needed. I really didn't know he had any sort of "handyman" in him before this farm.

He did regale to me with much merriment how he had waded into the pond (which has a lot of silt around the edges) and when he went to lift his leg he felt his foot come out of the wader and nearly fell on his backside into the pond. That would have been such a wonderful fate for his blackberry which I must say is never off his person. Now I often wonder why, because he keeps it on silent, and I have to call him at least three times before he feels it vibrate and knows to answer it. But it has all of everything on it. His emails, which of course if he did not read immediately the sky would fall and he would be out of contact with anything anywhere technical in a flash. Mmmmmmm.... maybe next time I could give him a little nudge, not that I mind his blackberry being everywhere we are, I would just love to see the expression on his face when he went for a mud bath!

2009-09-02T22:17:00.000-04:00

My goodness, it has been such a week. So much so, that I haven't had a minute to do or say anything outside my usual routine. Wow, reading that I sound so formal. Let me back up and try to remember where I left off. Rog, my sweetheart, left for the west coast last week to do some filming for his company and we managed here and life went on. He came home last Thursday at about 6.00a.m. and I left for Nashville at around 9.00a.m.

For those who don't know me well, my number four child, Ben and I wrote a song that won the CMT/NSAI song competition this year. We wrote this oh, about four years ago, but all songs have their moment and this one did this year. He has since moved in a different direction, brilliant I must say, (takes after his Mum) and is writing cartoons, and film series with "people" on the west coast. Now of course, like his Mum, this is after hours as he has to earn a living whilst trying to become something else. This is something I relate to as I seem to have done this forever.

Anyway back to the song, I had a "loverly" time in Nashville, got to sing the scratch vocal with the "cats" and was there when my wonderful and talented country singer put down the real vocal. Now, I am not ashamed to say that I am a "sanger" but a country? singer, well let's say I wasn't raised in the south and I sure don't sound like that on recording. I haven't heard the final mix yet but am waiting. I know it will arrive (probably by mp3 in email) in the next couple of days.

After much deliberation, I finally began a class at my kids (or most of my kids) school teaching drama. We are doing a musical version of a Christmas carol called "Bah Humbug" and I auditioned kids today for various roles and dancers etc. Wow, were they talented and am I the lucky one to be their director. My daughter, Bri, auditioned and three of the others looked on in amazement as these kids did their stuff. Life is good.

Isaiah is settling in, if not a little overwhelmed with the schoolwork. More and more every day he is becoming a part of the family. Dustin (eldest twin at home) asked for his form to be signed for the school dance tonight. Now younger twin Devin didn't want to go. Under the fire from Mum, it was discovered (with some merriment) that Dustin has a "girlfriend" and Devin is still looking. Aah, I remember those days. In fact I still remember going to my first ever "high school dance" at this old hall with my sister Margaret. I was in ninth grade so had to be around 13. I do remember having "first loves" at that age. Part of growing up. Where did all the years disappear.

So directing my British comedy, has become very interesting and quite a challenging adventure for me. We are up for the Atlanta awards, so have been honing my director skills. My children, ever amazing, have once again earned my respect and love for stepping up to the plate. It turns out that my "grandfather" in this comedy, has some health issues which arose and needed immediate attention. I auditioned "six" other actors who could have all been wonderful and none could fit the schedule. So what did I do? What I did about mmmm????years ago when in the same position. My husband, Rog, is a great and wonderfully entertaining speaker, and when in a 24hour pickle such as this a few years ago, I set my big green eyes on him,and vowed him many favors. He was so amazing he deserved an "Oscar". So what did I do this time? Vowed many favors again and he is stepping up. Now he will probably win an award for this having such a brilliant director!!

What can I say? I luv em all. They are crazy, unpredictable, let secrets out when they think no one's listening, cry with you, laugh with you, make you cry, make you laugh, slip the kids through the door (or the dog depending on which kid) but they are all mine. I wouldn't change a thing. This is family.

2009-08-26T21:58:00.000-04:00

Well , what a week. Have been home by myself, Rog is on the west coast doing some business stuff and I have held the helm with 10 kids at three different schools, and one working to transport. I am looking forward to him coming home even if I am leaving for Nashville just after that. Just a flying (meaning fast) trip to record one song then back to the always eventful Cressbrook Creek.

Cooked up a storm for dinner tonight and Isaiah has finally started to only have two helpings instead of three. I suggested he would be better off with some more lunch so he wouldn't be so hungry as he is away for eight hours in the day. He is beginning to realize how much of his learning he has missed. He has tired and dry eyes, probably the air conditioning which he is not used to, and his brain is just about worn out. He is also beginning to understand the rules of the house, which are not many, mainly respect to each other, tidy your room, bring your dirty clothes (of which their are piles and piles) down to the laundry, and have manners at all times. Also chewing with your mouth closed is a biggie in this house!! Munch, munch and slurp, slurp is not a sound I relish.

One of my precious daughter in laws had to go to court for a traffic thingo yesterday. I surely felt for her. I am very intimidated by anything that looks like a judge or policeman who wants to pull you over. She is just about three months pregnant with my seventh grandchild and their second child. So, anything like being pulled over is like major emotional meltdown at this stage of the pregnancy. She is also an Australian, adjusting as I did many years ago, to Southern American life. At least she wasn't chucking up yesterday in court, but managed to do that all day today. As they already have a precious little boy, but they would love a little sister, so in my travels to "Wally World" (Walmart for those of you who don't know the slang) I found the most precious little pink sleeper and one of those extremely hard to find pink sleeping bags with no feet to cheer her up. I left the tags on just in case, but let's face it five to one in the boy to girl ratio must mean we are due for another granddaughter!

I am also in a tizz about the play I am directing. It seems I just can't find a "grandfather". They have all left home, gone out of town, or are going out of town, or have just plain fell of the face of the earth. The one I had has some health issues, which I know are going to be fine, but are a priority over a silly little (not to me mind you) British comedy. I am looking sideways at hubby who is used to being before many audiences (speaking mind you) with a comedic flair. Pity he still has his teeth. I really would have loved a "gummy" grand-dad. Sort of like my youngest grandchild, who just has one tooth, and smiles his big "gummy" smile. You know the one I mean, and it comes with the big bald head with no hair yet. But oh, so precious, wish I could bottle it and bring it out on the tough days, just to remind me that somehow it all works for good in the end.

My toughest twins have had a week too. These are my nine year olds who weren't supposed to do anything at all including live, but are simply amazing and continue to astound me every day as they show all the doctors and pessimists that love and nurture and early intervention does count. They have just started the third grade (a year behind because of their incredible struggles) and the math in their lovely private school just isn't right for them. Well after realizing that the "new teacher" was not comfortable with trying something different for them in the class room, I didn't know whether to be angry, laugh or cry. But I am so incredibly blessed by those around them who have poured into them believing in them as much as I, that their teacher from last year (organized by their tutor for dyslexia and my wonderful friend who is the principal) is going to teach them their own course of math. Dyslexics have a very hard time with math and not because they can't learn it, but because they learn in an entirely different way.

So with all of that going on, the ear infection, the temperature which I was hoping was not Swine flu, the cuts and scrapes that come with ten kids running around, the poison ivy that one of the twins managed to get on his leg from somewhere (why does all this happen when Rog is away), I think we managed pretty well. The washing is all done, the house is tidy (mostly) the kitchen is clean (except for those last minute before bed 14 year old snack remnants) and the sounds from above are abating into the quiet that I hope is my night.

Saturday Life with 14 kids

2009-08-22T23:16:00.000-04:00

Did I ever tell you that Ben, my youngest biological, thinks his dog Roxie, cannot stay home by herself. If they ever leave the house she seems to be put through the door and even sometimes picked up without a word. I think because we have six dogs they think we don't notice. Well Roxie was with us today for a while along with our two wonderful grandchildren while I picked up constantly (I must have OCD about cleaning and tidying) because we had guests for a BBQ.

Not that my wonderful friends who also have a large extended family would notice, but I am somewhat house proud. I don't think I was always like this, because in Australia, where I grew up, we are used to being spontaneous. Here a lot of the time, I have to consult my agenda sometimes weeks ahead, but in Aus., or with my Brit. friends. we seem to have the same colonial thing going on.

It may also have to do with the fact that back then I only had four children and now I have fourteen. But, having said that, when you have a lot of children, you are either tidy and structured or messy and chaotic. I am the former. So, today, because we have guests, I am more paranoid about presenting the house and the food. Crazy, I know, but it's a fine line between OCD and OCB (if don't know look it up) and I like to think that other people don't view us as being crazy and disorganized. Crazy, yes I accept that, but I am an organized on time person and want to be perceived as such. I fail on several occasions. I think I being tested.

Now my hubby, was late for our wedding. Need I say more. This is what I contend with on a daily basis. Does he make up for this in other ways? Thank goodness he does. He loves the vacuum cleaner, but does leave it in the middle of the floor where somehow I constantly trip over it. Oh, and did I mention that his computer has a home on my kitchen counter where I cook. He also has at least two other offices in the house, but prefers my kitchen. Of course, I don't have to cook much, so it isn't a real problem, and he is wonderful company.

Mentioning company, he invites people around, and then there's an emergency, where he just has to disappear for hours on end and leaves me with company I sometimes don't know. I remember once, admittedly a long time ago, he invited some persons known or unknown for a BBQ, and decided when they wouldn't leave (they did come at 3p.m and now it was 11p.m) that he was adjourning to the bathroom. After about half an hour or so, and they were still there, I decided to join him. We sat in there until they left. I guess they must have liked something about us or my cooking. We can't remember who they were. But that was thirty odd years ago.

Speaking of which, we will have been married thirty years this coming September. The one positive thing we have learned through the years, is that don't invite people you don't know, unless they are coming with friends you do know. Well all jokes aside, we love to entertain, and our children, all fourteen of them love a party, lots of food, and fun.

So, in the morning, which is coming all too soon, we will get up and clean up, breakfast twelve children (oh did I mention the grandchildren are sleeping over) get them dressed, combed, fed and out the door for church. I really love church. It is a two hour break where we get to get fed, receive and replenish while they are doing the same. Tomorrow, Ben and his family (and I am sure Roxie) are coming for lunch after service. Seeing that Ben really loves Nathan hot dogs, we might feed him the left overs from tonight and cook something different for those who care, before I go to my first rehearsal for the British comedy.

Now, I am going to spend some quality time with my better half before we hit the sack and start again.

2009-08-21T20:44:00.000-04:00

Another day, another dollar. At least I hope so. It costs a fortune just to feed everybody here. I had forgotten just how much 14 year old boys eat and I have three of them! They seem to inhale everything in sight, I wonder if they really taste it at the rate the consume it. They were really keen to go to the high school football game tonight, but after they just heard the big rumble of thunder overhead, I think they are glad to be inside.

My eldest boys at home are identical twins, with Isaiah just four months younger. He is suffering from a sore thumb tonight from writing so much this week. Devin, one of the twins, was proud of his 100% on his Math test and when I asked Dustin his twin brother, he said "which math test?" I think and I hope they are in different classes. He just came in and said "oh! that one" when he saw his brother's little white sheet. Their voices are changing just now and sometimes they are really funny. At least they have a great sense of humor! I am not sure I am going to see his test. I may have to sneak peak in his book bag.

CeCe my 18 year old was a little sad tonight. She has been an apprentice for a hairdresser (her dream) for the last couple of months and just found out that while she can still work there, she will have to apprentice for Cosmetology, which will give her another skill, while she gets her GED at night. When she realized that she would be extremely talented and skilled at the end of all this, she was happier.

My hubby Rog is trying hard to catch a muskrat who lives down at our pond. We have two fishing ponds where the kids catch large mouth bass on a regular basis. We don't keep them; we put them back so we will keep the pond stocked. He has this rather big silver cage that looks like an elaborate rodent trap. Of course the muskrat is too smart to be caught. He has lived there for a long time and has lots of big holes (or burrows I guess) all around the edge of the pond. Funny thing happened on the way to catching him though, one of the kids left a fishing rod, with hook etc on it, lying near one of the holes he comes and goes from. When we went to pick it up we found the line (with the hook on) was down the hole. Upon trying to retrieve it we found it wouldn't budge. Rog tugged and tugged just like when you have a really big fish on the line, and it did just what it does in the ocean when the big one got away. It snapped. So we think the muskrat now is running around with a hook in him somewhere! Tough little critter!

Bri, my aspergers child, was much better today with a tweak to her medication. Sometimes I think I am a lobster, swimming around thinking it is all well, then realizing the water is boiling. At least I can do something about it and jump out. With all the furore of the last couple of weeks, Isaiah coming home, getting all the kids to three different schools, organizing the British Comedy, which is going to be a riot by the way, and getting Rog ready for the west coast and me ready for Nashville, I should have predicted that Bri would have a hic up. But she is back to her sweet, if somewhat unique self with a minor adjustment.

Six of my kids at home are at a private home schooling academy with teachers. I am very fortunate to have found it as they have small classes and a very loving Christian environment in which they thrive. The good thing is they have Fridays off. The bad thing is they have Fridays off. So today was much about them, homework for the weekend (they don't really get Fridays off - I am the teacher), swimming, playing tea parties and watching favorite TV shows. I have just picked up the ten or so towels and tidied up for the night. They are watching the last of a disney movie and then it will be time for the blanket show.

Tomorrow, I get my two of my grandchildren (I told you we swap off) as my son and his wife are off watching the tennis somewhere for a few days, and Rog has asked an army of British people we know and their friends for a BBQ. Ah! Never a dull moment at Cressbrook Creek.

Oh P.S. He also has offered the "ranch" for yet another wedding!!

2009-08-20T21:53:00.000-04:00

Well what a day. Seemed like it really was life in the fast lane today. This week has been filled with dentists, doctors, cleaning (which I love and hate) and topped off with the first run through of a British Comedy that I am directing. Yes I do another life other than children. It keeps me sane.

One of my special needs kids just had such a hard day. She is my Aspburger's Bi-Polar etc one. We were just a little up and stuck so needed to make a quick trip to our wonderful Physch. and are crossing our fingers for the morning. Isaiah was frantically trying to study for his "first" ever test tomorrow on local Geography and was struggling with the spelling of such long words. It sort of seemed like everyone was talking at once and the phone didn't stop either. And to top that off they all couldn't seem to understand that swimming in a thunderstorm was just a little dangerous. Maybe it's the heat that is making them all a little crazier than usual. Oh, and the first run through of the play was at my home so of course I was trying to make dinner, keep the house tidy, do the homework, keep them all away from Dad who just happens to be filming on the west coast next week and needed to get his script right. Whew!

At least the six dogs and two horses were being friendly. Did I mention them before? We seem to collect animals as well. We have a three legged poodle, (her leg was chewed off by another dog years ago) and have rescued two miniature horses, Lady Bug and Angel. They eat the grass on the three acres. Keeps the mowing down just a little. They also poop a lot, but that makes great fertilizer for the small vege gardens we have begun to experiment with. The kids adore the horses and spoil them and the dogs rotten. We have toy poodles and English Cocker Spaniels.

Cooked 30 chicken legs in their favorite fake fry in the oven, three pounds of potatoes into sour cream and cheese mashed potatoes and a big old dish of mixed veggies. A couple of french loaves were also demolished and then they lined up for apple pie and ice cream. The older boys just came back around 9.00p.m. for the leftovers (of which there was not much). Finally they are all (hopefully) asleep. I must admit they are a lot of work but the reward and joy of seeing them grow into wonderful kids makes it worth while.

Looking forward to a small break in Nashville for me when my better half gets back from the west coast. Off to do some recording (I write and sing too) and a breather to get recharged. That is something that is really important when you dare to have this many kids with needs. It is not always easy to get away together, but we do make an effort and grab a day or two where we both recharge our batteries and get to think without being interrupted every 30 seconds or so.

We have discovered that hotels and getaways are not so good for us together. Our older kids are gracious enough to swap babysitting and when we need time out together we spend it at our wonderful home "Cressbrook Creek" and stay in, cook a couple of steaks with seafood and buy an excellent bottle of wine to relax and talk without interruptions.

In fact, my sweetheart has just cooked up some coconut shrimp and I am going to join him and review the day and what we were blessed with.

2009-08-19T22:57:00.000-04:00

I realize that I am in the minority having fourteen children, ten of whom live at home. This is a journey I did not think I would ever participate in, but now that I experience this everyday, tired as I am at the end of it, I am glad I didn't miss any little bit.

I am prompted to start a blog because our tenth child at home and number fourteen in total, has only been with us for three weeks. He is a native Liberian child, raised in poverty and war in an orphanage in Monrovia. He is also the product of a "busted adoption" where he was sent back to this war torn, chaotic environment.

Because his older sister came to us in similar circumstances we couldn't leave him there. He is a green carded Resident Alien, with all the privileges of a citizen other than voting. He is also only 13 years old. He is totally unschooled (testing to grade 1.8) even though he has lived in the USA for the last four years, was homeless for much of the time back in Liberia from March to July until part of his birth family came to find him, suffered Malaria, and was exposed to TB.

He lived with no electricity, no fresh or running water, no phones, no toilets and a cup of rice per day. If he has survived that he deserves a chance at what life at the Thompson home can give him.

He has started middle school this week in IEL (Intensive English Language) although he speaks and understands English well. But, he cannot spell, write, do anything other than basic math, has no understanding of history or geography, and wonders why he has not discovered school before last Monday. I thought we had a policy of no child left behind, so how come he was dumped? And how many other children are there in schooling systems that seem to have no accountability.

He has not had a medical check up for four years, nor dental, no shots and a belief that most foods seem to be "bad" for you. Fortunately, hunger over rules the last one. After adopting eight children through a very carefully monitored system, I do not know why there was not more care in placing this child in a home that failed him miserably. Not only failed to educate, provide medical and dental, but failed to parent in the basic necessities.

I believe, he is smart, willing and eager to learn, waking up every minute to the fact that he has a chance in this life and is running with both hands and mind outstretched to receive all that is poured in.

Tune in for his progress and life at the Thompsons, with ten kids at home, including three sets of twins, four with mild cerebral palsy, four with dyslexia, four with expressive/receptive language disorder (mmm. and maybe five; haven't got the results yet) four with mood disorder/bipolar, one who has Tourette's, bipolar, Aspergers, and I can't count the ADHD kids, that seems normal to me, six dogs and two horses and six (and counting) grandchildren who all seem to love being on the ranch at Cressbrook Creek situated in the heart of suburbia.