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

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

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.

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.

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??????????

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.

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.