Last night the 16-year-old with the temper actually made dinner from an Italian cookbook. She also stayed and conversed with the adults like a real human being. And tonight, Lexi wasn't sent to the corner once. She likes to talk a lot and never really stops as long as she's awake. After a few hours of her constant voice it's enough to drive anyone insane. I see now that God made toddlers cute so their parents (or guardians) wouldn't drop them off a cliff in the night.
She is soooo darn cute, though. Now she's getting picky about what she wears to day care, so I just lift her up and have her point to the clothes she wants in her closet. We usually have to negotiate, as she's likely to choose pants and top that clash. Not that anyone is going to judge her on fashion at day care, but hey, she should at least look like someone cares, right?
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Keepin' on
Well, last night was a banner night in our household. I got home, and Lexi, the 2.5 year-old, was laying in her crib, soaking wet and obviously had been there for hours. The 16-year-old was in her bedroom, yelling at some friend (or ex-friend) over her cell phone, using the f-word in every sentence and screaming and banging stuff. I think she threw something against the door.
So I go into the bedroom, pick up Lexi and change her. I dressed her in a long-sleeved top that was actually the top to a pajama set, and she didn't want that at all. She started crying, refused to cooperate, and I was pretty much not going to let a toddler push me around. I made her wear the top, but in the meantime the dulcet tones of the teenager came through the wall, "Lexi, quit crying or I'll beat your face in!!" Lovely.
How does one spell misery? Are these the memories that parents have of their children? Why am I doing this? This isn't even my family.
So I go into the bedroom, pick up Lexi and change her. I dressed her in a long-sleeved top that was actually the top to a pajama set, and she didn't want that at all. She started crying, refused to cooperate, and I was pretty much not going to let a toddler push me around. I made her wear the top, but in the meantime the dulcet tones of the teenager came through the wall, "Lexi, quit crying or I'll beat your face in!!" Lovely.
How does one spell misery? Are these the memories that parents have of their children? Why am I doing this? This isn't even my family.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Setting up
I've never raised a child, even though I'm 50-ish. Ok, 50 even. Now my husband and I suddenly have three children in a small house. In the days following our acquiring the kids, we brought bedding and furniture over from the mom's now-abandoned house. We got clothing by the bagful, not even knowing what most of it was. I broke open and sorted through several big black trash bags of clothes, much of which just went into the trash. I pulled out baby clothes that no longer fit Lexi and tried taking them to the local consignment shop. No luck...they wouldn't take any of it. Too stained. That was embarrassing.
We spent days setting things up so everyone has some space of their own. We're not done yet...the two teenagers are sharing a room. Fortunately they grew up together and are practically sisters.
We bought more bedding, more clothing, lots of different foodstuffs that we would normally avoid like the plague (macaroni and cheese, white bread, microwave popcorn, etc.). I learned how to change a child's diaper, clean massive amounts of poop off the child, and put on a fresh pullup. We are learning about daycare (and how expensive it is...almost $800/month!) None of this was in the budget, by the way.
Question for those who are more familiar with children: how does a being so small generate such a giant amount of poop?? It's staggering sometimes. It's like there's an alien invasion--a very smelly one.
We spent days setting things up so everyone has some space of their own. We're not done yet...the two teenagers are sharing a room. Fortunately they grew up together and are practically sisters.
We bought more bedding, more clothing, lots of different foodstuffs that we would normally avoid like the plague (macaroni and cheese, white bread, microwave popcorn, etc.). I learned how to change a child's diaper, clean massive amounts of poop off the child, and put on a fresh pullup. We are learning about daycare (and how expensive it is...almost $800/month!) None of this was in the budget, by the way.
Question for those who are more familiar with children: how does a being so small generate such a giant amount of poop?? It's staggering sometimes. It's like there's an alien invasion--a very smelly one.
How did we get here?
Ok, this is really just about a couple of older people who ended up with the full-time care of a 13-year-old and a 2.5-year-old. These children are my husband's grandchildren. Both mom and dad are in jail (actually it's even more complicated than that, as there are two different daddies).
First of all, we live in a house that is really two bedrooms, but you could call it a three-bedroom house if you move all the stuff out of the storage room, which is about 12 feet by 5 feet, and turn that into a nursery for the 2.5 year old child.
Ok, how did we get here? How does any grandparent become the custodian and guardian of a grandchild? Generally, it occurs because both mom and dad are out of the picture due to drugs, incompetance, irresponsibility, jail, or some combination of those things. Depending on the situation, mom and/or dad may only be temporarily out of the picture, but my guess is that through their selfishness and irresponsiblity, the damage to their own children is extensive. This seems to be happening more and more these days, because I keep hearing these same types of stories from my clients at the bank.
Ok, back to our story. Mom, I hate to say, is an idiot. She is fatally attracted to the biggest, baddest drug dealers and murderers in town. I believe she completely gets off on being able to control them, even if they occasionally kick down the front door and try to strangle her in front of her own kids (true story). She is beautiful, magnetic, and unbelievably self-destructive.
She got involved in the biggest mortgage scandal in the state and was sentenced to a year in prison. On parole briefly because of her dad's upcoming open-heart surgery (that's my husband), she of course violated the terms of her parole by getting involved in a local murder. Her new boyfriend pulled the trigger, killing a young boy who had stolen a very expensive ($100,000) necklace from some other local lowlife. After going on the run with her boyfriend (and claiming she wasn't at all involved) she finally turned herself in and has been in jail ever since.
So what happened to her two kids?? This would be the 12-year-old girl and 2.5-year-old girl. Well...they were first taken to their uncle's house, where he lives with his pregnant girlfriend. This situation lasted about two weeks. The 13-year-old, Mari, called us one day when my husband and I were out driving around iwth his 16-year-old daughter, and asked us to come and pick up her and her little sister. The uncle and his girlfriend were fighting and the kids couldn't take it any more. So we turned around and drove for an hour out to the uncle's house. The two kids were sitting at the bottom of the driveway with their little suitcases packed and their little dog in his carrier. They had been sitting out there for an hour, not wanting to go back into the house.
We loaded them into the car, less the dog (we had to break their hearts and tell them we couldn't take their beloved toy fox terrier with us). We didn't even stop in at the house; we just drove straight home. On the way, we stopped at Wal-Mart and got pull-ups, toothbrushes, milk, and other necessities. Then we headed home, fed the little ones, arranged for mattresses, bedding and pajamas, and put them all to bed. They have been with us ever since.
First of all, we live in a house that is really two bedrooms, but you could call it a three-bedroom house if you move all the stuff out of the storage room, which is about 12 feet by 5 feet, and turn that into a nursery for the 2.5 year old child.
Ok, how did we get here? How does any grandparent become the custodian and guardian of a grandchild? Generally, it occurs because both mom and dad are out of the picture due to drugs, incompetance, irresponsibility, jail, or some combination of those things. Depending on the situation, mom and/or dad may only be temporarily out of the picture, but my guess is that through their selfishness and irresponsiblity, the damage to their own children is extensive. This seems to be happening more and more these days, because I keep hearing these same types of stories from my clients at the bank.
Ok, back to our story. Mom, I hate to say, is an idiot. She is fatally attracted to the biggest, baddest drug dealers and murderers in town. I believe she completely gets off on being able to control them, even if they occasionally kick down the front door and try to strangle her in front of her own kids (true story). She is beautiful, magnetic, and unbelievably self-destructive.
She got involved in the biggest mortgage scandal in the state and was sentenced to a year in prison. On parole briefly because of her dad's upcoming open-heart surgery (that's my husband), she of course violated the terms of her parole by getting involved in a local murder. Her new boyfriend pulled the trigger, killing a young boy who had stolen a very expensive ($100,000) necklace from some other local lowlife. After going on the run with her boyfriend (and claiming she wasn't at all involved) she finally turned herself in and has been in jail ever since.
So what happened to her two kids?? This would be the 12-year-old girl and 2.5-year-old girl. Well...they were first taken to their uncle's house, where he lives with his pregnant girlfriend. This situation lasted about two weeks. The 13-year-old, Mari, called us one day when my husband and I were out driving around iwth his 16-year-old daughter, and asked us to come and pick up her and her little sister. The uncle and his girlfriend were fighting and the kids couldn't take it any more. So we turned around and drove for an hour out to the uncle's house. The two kids were sitting at the bottom of the driveway with their little suitcases packed and their little dog in his carrier. They had been sitting out there for an hour, not wanting to go back into the house.
We loaded them into the car, less the dog (we had to break their hearts and tell them we couldn't take their beloved toy fox terrier with us). We didn't even stop in at the house; we just drove straight home. On the way, we stopped at Wal-Mart and got pull-ups, toothbrushes, milk, and other necessities. Then we headed home, fed the little ones, arranged for mattresses, bedding and pajamas, and put them all to bed. They have been with us ever since.
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