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

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

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.

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

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!

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

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!!