Radio Silence

Things have been so kooky in the last 6 months.  Good kooky...rather great kooky.
I have teamed up with my dear friend, Amy, on PhoenixBites as a staff writer.  The experience has been nothing short of amazing.  I have met some really incredible people and the food...let's be serious.  i like to cook and my pants size shows that I really like to eat.  The food that I have been blessed to partake in over the last few months has been nothing short of incredible.  The tops on the random and interesting meter would have to be the Beef Heart and Sweet Breads that I had at the amazing Prado restaurant inside the Intercontinental Montelucia Resort.
We have gone to some pretty impressive culinary festivals as well as new menu roll outs for local restaurants.  It's been amazing and I am so thankful to my friend for allowing me the opportunity to ride her coat tails on this phenomenal adventurer.  Though we do not know what the future holds, we relish the joy and excitement every day!
The boys are awesome.  Cole is becoming such a silly little person.  He loves to dance - be it one of our infamous weekend morning dance parties or any commercial with a jingle.  If he hears music - he dances.  At first it was just a rocking motion, then he started incorporating some swaying and now, well, now its a whole body rock out.  He throws his hands in the air and has just started going in circles (not my favorite thing...Nervous Nellie). Complete adorableness.
Aiden was having a rough time at school for awhile.  We tried so many different methods to figure out what the issues were and to see what we needed to do to get the kinks out.  We tried to eliminate dairy from his diet and that seemed to work - though I honestly think that he just had a really, really good day and in his mind it was all because we had switched over to Soy milk.  But, hey, whatever works right??
He's on Spring Break now and has been going to Cole's care giver during the day.  He seems to be faring well there, albeit he complains that its "kinda boring", its only for the rest of this week.
He had his super birthday fest last weekend - an ice skating party.  This was mostly nerve-racking for me in that it was the first Kindergarten birthday party of the year at school.  We made his invitations by hand together and then gave one to everyone in the class.  I was nervous that no one would come, mostly due to the fact that it was ice skating and being in the middle of the desert its not really a popular activity!  We actually had a pretty great turn out.  Relief!  Aiden had a great time, as I think his friends did...and can I just say, I have never seen so much star wars loot!! I tried my hand at a Darth Vader cake...it was not pretty. I sort of blew all my expectations of ever having a great cake after the masterpiece that was the Coyotes cake last year.  but, hey, Darth tasted great so I have that going for me!!
Nothing else terribly excited...except of course for the BodyBugg that I just purchased and that will be arriving tomorrow thanks to the boys (and girls) in Brown!  I am super excited to give it a go - I think that it will really be an eye opener and a great tool for me to finally be successful at getting all this junk off my trunk!
I will keep you posted on my results!!
Hoping that everyone is having a great start to the week! Me = So far, so good!!

Like a ton of bricks!

So today while waiting for my nurse to come, yes I am that cool, I got a phone call from the baby's doctor.  It's time for his 9 month old check up.  Seriously???  What has happened to my tiny baby?  9 months already?  Sounds like a bad joke to me.
So we start to make an appointment and she says, looks like he will be 9 months on the 26th - do you want to come in that day?
Sure, why not...then I remember, we have something that day.  I said it like it was no big deal, my oldest starts Kindergarten that day so we would have to do it in the afternoon.
Then it hit me...Aiden is starting Kindergarten.
What?!
When did all of this happen?  First you rudely remind me that my baby is not so much a baby anymore then you have the audacity to make me face the fact that Aiden is a little person that will be sitting in a classroom.  Reading books without me.  Learning things that I did not teach him.
Break my heart on a Friday morning.  That's a really sucky way to start a weekend.
Then I start thinking more about that little person sitting at a desk.  What will those around him think of him?  What will the teachers think of US?  All the good will be there...but all our mistakes will be sitting in a classroom ready for someones judgment.  Do I not get enough of that from family members, from myself...that we need to add teachers to the mix now?
I know I am sounding paranoid, but it's just that I have come to the point where I have to hope and pray that all that I have done, all that I have tried to teach him about the world and people, right and wrong, respect for others, how to be a friend...I have to hope that I did all of this the right way.  That I haven't messed him up, led him astray or broken him.
My mind wanders and I wonder are the other kids going to like him.  Will his teachers appreciate his little personality in the same way that we, his parents and our friends, do?  What will I do if he comes home and he's sad because someone was mean to him, or made fun of him?  At some point this is inevitable, right?  He'll be out in the world with other people.  People I didn't raise.  He'll be out of the safety of this home and all the love in it.
I am coming to the realization that time happens whether we like it or not.  I am here to say I do not like it and I am not ready for this.  Not at all.
On the plus side...I do have a back-up kid, so maybe I can fix my wrongs with him as they are pointed out to me by the other!  (Kidding...kinda)

Hug your babies tonight, even if they aren't babies, because before you know it they will be all grown up.

2005

2010

Summertime

When I was growing up things were weird.  Things were not normal - in the sense that I am still not sure at 35 what normal is supposed to be.  I bounced around from family member to family member for reasons that I still don't understand completely and at this point in my life really no longer matter.  Everyone has to arrive at a point in their lives where you stop looking for reasons or excuses and just agree to exist with your history.  At the end of the day all things that I experienced are a major factor in where I have arrived at today - good, bad or indifferent.  I have spent far too much time in my life looking for reasons and explanations that I have found that I have lost touch with all of the extra love and care that I received as a result of those things.  I am eternally grateful for all the people in my life that have looked after me and cared for me when it was not their responsibility or duty to do so.  I know now that those people are good, so amazingly good and warm and hold such dear and warm places in my heart and history and all the good parts of me are because of those people.  You who may be reading this now - and you know who you are - I thank you with all of the words that I can and cannot find.  You constantly amaze me and I love you with all that I ever will have.

Being able to be home with my beautiful children this summer has made me reflect on some of the amazing summers that I have experienced growing up with family in Illinois.

I shared many summers with my Aunt Susan and her family.  There were great times spent in the backyard for all hours of the day.  I got to pretend to be "grown" with her daughters the youngest of which is four years older than me.  I enjoyed hearing them talk about boys and high school and all of the trials and gossip that came with that.  I remember Sunday dinners consisting of beef and noodles.  Without fail, every Sunday, it was such a treat.

I also spent a few summer with my Aunt Eileen and my cousin Jennifer and later Ashley.  Jennifer and I always had a great time - though she may disagree.  I was often around my older cousins, so being around Jenny who is about 4 years younger than me was my time to be "bossy".  I think I turned out being pretty good at it.  Poor Jenny.  We spent a lot of time at the public pool in Pekin.  I remember the pinnacle of those trips was getting a frozen Charleston Chew from the "bar".  I also was with Jenny when I found my first crush, Tim.  I think that he lived next door to my Aunt and cousin in their apartment complex in Pekin.  It was right across from the river and there were a few times that me and Jenny would go with the boys to "fish" for minnows.  I learned my first lesson in the backwards moves of boys, when Tim pushed me into the water on one such trip.  I was so embarrassed and hurt and remember crying to my Aunt about it.  "I thought he liked me and he pushed me in the water!".  Through tears she was the first to teach me about boys - , "That proves that he does like you, Terri!".  Still seems so silly to me.

Of my most fond memories were the trips to my Aunt Sarah's home.  Throughout my childhood she always held such magic about her.  Her home was an old farmhouse and they had a barn.  This wasn't a working farm, but I always loved the rustic atmosphere and the imagination that place brought to mind every time I visited.  There were many afternoons spent playing Olympic games on the computer which was terribly fancy for the time.  I had such good times with my cousins Kathy and Chris.  I so looked up to Kathy and wanted to grow up and be just like her.  I think she was the first person that introduced me to Wham!.  We would listen at nighttime on headphones.  Such great memories.  She had a wonderful collection of collectible horses proudly displayed in her room and I would stare at them in amazement and wish for my own collection someday.  She was smart, funny and so creative.  Everything that I wanted to be.  I would secretly wish on dandelions that she could be my sister and that I would wake up in the morning and it would be so.
There was one summer where my cousin Jenny joined us and all of us kids put on a carnival.  We had an art display and my Aunt and Uncle came in and bought our works of art for a nickel.  We came up with carnival games and had made up prizes.
The best ever was the Olympics.  My Aunt and Uncle set up our own Summer Olympics.  We even made gold. silver and bronze medals from cardboard.  We had foot races and archery competitions - all things that could be found in the Summer Olympics.  It was amazing and my limited vocabulary could never do it justice.

All of these memories have been etched in my mind.  These things and the people that helped to create them have made me want to give those kinds of memories to my own children.  I want them to know that no matter where you have been or where you end up that there was love and fun, even if it existed amongst some hardships.  Isn't that what life is all about?  The ability to find the beauty in the small details, the joy and the childish wonder.

The baton has been passed and it is now my duty to wrap my own children with love and amaze them with the creativity, wisdom and love that has been passed down from these amazing Tasker women.  I can only hope that one day that their faces light up when retelling stories of their childhood the same way that mine does.

Life is all about the details you choose to cling to.  Thank you for creating those details for me!!

Here we go again

It seems interestingly odd to me that one of my last posts was about the FirstBorn being in big trouble...and we find ourselves there again.  I got notification via FaceBook of all things, that the boy is now in jail.  I am waiting to hear from Beth, the adoptive mother, sometimes this morning for all the details.  

It's so hard to think that someone that I had a hand in creating has found his way to so much trouble.  I mean, not to say that I blame Beth at all - or even that I am remotely close to perfection as far as parenting goes.  Ask my 4 year old and he will give you a dissertation on how I am not the best mommy.  It's just that I am not a bad person and his birth father, though he has been in trouble himself a time or two, is not a bad person.  I just can't wrap my head around how all of this has happened.  Don't get me wrong - it may appear that I think that FirstBorn is a bad person - that is definitely not the case.  I just can't figure out what has happened to him to have had his life turn out the way it has.  His adoptive parents have been loving and nurturing caretakers - people that I would have loved to have had as parents myself. 

So the question is - what can happen to a person to make their life turn completely in the wrong direction.  I watch Intervention on a regular basis and 9 times out of 10 there is some devastating event that takes place that is the trigger for their addiction.  Could that be the same for FirstBorn?  What was the trigger - the thing that brought on the darkness?  Was it me, my decision to put him up for adoption?  Was it something that he might have done in his head with that information?  I know that I have a propensity to over-analyze almost every interaction that I have with people in my life - actually keeps me from getting to sleep some nights. Could my decision have broken him in some way?

My heart hurts.

The Other Mother

I had a baby boy when I was very young, 17. He was eventually adopted, as I didn’t know what I was doing and had no right testing out on him. He was beautiful. And I have missed him everyday that he has been gone. His adoptive parents and I had created a spoken agreement, of what each of us wanted and needed in order to proceed with the adoption. For a while all things were heeded, but eventually they tapered and then there would be years in between phone calls and letters.

Last year I called. I broke down and called because I couldn’t handle the not knowing any longer. He was in trouble, a lot of trouble. I suppose some would say that might be perceived as a mother’s intuition. Who knows? He was having a lot of behavioral issues, which seemed to coincide with the birth of his adoptive parents’ twin boys; he was 10 at the time. In the years to follow he would have some serious issues in school and at home. I was encouraged by the care in his adoptive mothers voice and candor that they were working on it and were sure that things would get better.

Almost another year went by.

I called.

He was in more trouble, big trouble. The adoptive parents no longer have custody of this boy. He is now “property” of the state in which they live. She provided me with vague details and said that they were trying to get him back – but in the event that they did he would not be able to live in their home. He is currently living in a boy’s home – not a juvenile detention center or anything so severe. But he has no home. He lives with other boys tossed to the side, discarded. Does this make him think that he is without value? His birth mother tossed him aside, and now the people that chose to be his parents, those that chose him over all others – have done the same.

Is he destroyed?

Is he lost?

Is he broken?

Have I created this?

I am destroyed, lost and broken for him.

peanut butter...

I have many books that have been recovered from my very own child hood. These were saved by my mother, after having been shared with a set of cousins and my younger half-sister. I now have these wonderful relics of my youth to share with my son. One of my favorites from the bunch is called A House is A House For Me. It tells of all the great things that can be houses or live in a house. My son and I have pored over this book many, many, many times. So much so that at this point I could recite the entire book to anyone who asked without a second thought. Last night he picked this book for bedtime reading – but he wanted to read it to me, which is a special little treat I get every now and then. Some words come out as they were intended by the author and others sound as if they are in some very complex foreign language I have never been formally introduced to.
After he “read” the book to me he wanted to go through and find out what all the pictures were of. The book has wonderful watercolor images and is jut plain pretty and fun to look at. We came upon some butterflies which he immediately decided were bugs. I chose to gently correct him and let him know that these were actually butterflies. There were about 5 on the two corresponding pages. He repeated the word and seemed comfortable accepting it and we temporarily moved on to name other objects on other pages. Eventually we arrived on the same page with the colorful pretties. He looked at me and said:


Momma, I remember! Pretty peanut butterflies!


I love him like no other.