Wounded Puppies and Deepak

Xmas 14

A friend of mine came upon a 10 day old Chihuahua who had lost its mother. He needed twenty four hour care, and a "foster mom" was needed so I volunteered. All of my children are beloved, and have a space in the tiny cracks in my heart I didn't know existed, they mortar the holes made on a person's spirit when eyes role, a gossip spreads ill words, someone perceived by blood to be close passes unnecessary judgment. It patches the "picked last" or the "never asked", the "shes OK looking" and the more popular "she isn't one of us". They help the muttering of "she doesn't do enough" or "she doesn't deserve the success". These span three decades of my life, and I believe, centuries before. They limit me to some extent, and "they" often are "me".

Having children can best be described as an invisible wound, hidden deep beneath your skin, a knot of tension, and the moment a skillful surgeon presses down to open that unknown angst, in that one second, when release and fear, joy, and uncertainty all meet..... That one second is the removal of your soul to your extremities, your children. It should be the elevating of your spirit so fast and vast you feel you are levitating, and the only reason we walk around is the gravity of what these little creatures need to survive..... Mine had no words, no voice, no trust, they were wounded puppies.

We all are wounded puppies, aren't we? Masked in the cloak of "mother", "teacher", and "friend". I have had a job since 15, to my first car, my first college apartment, my first college degree, my first home, my marriage, my first teaching job, my first entrepreneur dream..... Ive always had to work. I find myself semi-retired now due to good choices, poor health, a need for a stay at home mom, and the need to pursue what I believe all children need most. A woman, spelled M-O-R-G-A-N, not only M-O-M.

That pursuit brought me to San Jose, to see Deepak Chopra, and to meditate. So I thought..... The Oprah weekend started on a Friday night, and I was one of the only people sitting in the stadium at 4:45pm. I thought traffic would be impossible, it was not. I thought the seats would be full, they were not. So I sat.....until 7pm, and then Ms.Winfrey came on stage, retelling the story of her upbringing, her possibility, her statistics, her truth, and her triumph. I went to the hotel ready to see Elizabeth Gilbert, Deepak Chopra, Rob Bell, and Iyanla Vanzant the next day.... Alas my Addison's disease hates early curtain call, and I woke up 45 minutes late. The Saturday parking had sold out, all parking structures full. I turned down a small street that had been coned off, with just enough space for a little car to pass through, and there sat 14 parking spots, free. I parked and ran in fast, hearing the roar of music, a sign that the speakers had changed.... I was bummed I must have missed the morning with Deepak Chopra. Luckily my seat was an aisle, and my replacement medicines, and heart medication were not working well yet and I was in the mens room throwing up. (Oprah took over all the mens rooms and put "womens" on them). The speaker quality was amazing, apparently guys need to hear everything in the leu. I sat back down and Oprah appeared, apologizing for the delay in starting, and she announced Deepak. I was so excited I had to run and throw up. I meditated in a mens room stall while trying to not get faint and be that girl found passed out on a toilet in San Jose.

I ran out at first glance of energy and Deepak was gone :(  I had missed all of it, but geez his voice is like soundwave xanax. Elizabeth Gilbert was on stage, riveting. Oprah sat front row dead center, with a blanket, watching every presenter. Im usually healthy by 11am and I was hoping for it, but again I was clammy and needed to go sit in the hall. Across from the bathroom sat three younger girls and they were passing out programs and water, so I thought. On my last trip to the bathroom they had gone away, but the water were all over, and I was for sure dehydrated. I was worried I would faint and so I just wanted to rehydrate so I could see Rob Bell and Iyanla Vanzant. I was in row 15 of the bleacher seats, which was pretty close, and the tickets were $599 compared to the floor seats. I went to grab the water and I grabbed a brochure that looked slightly different then the general program, but in my head I didn't care because I had been to sick to visit the O Town center next door, and I had missed Deepak. I ran to my seat to finish hearing the Eat Pray Love journey of Elizabeth, and the need to seek out elephants. In the brochure was a lanyard, it was very plain and had nothing on it but a sunrise. It was a lovely take home gift. Oprah graced the stage before morning break and spoke of God speaking to us in whispers, and if we don't take advantage then, who knows what will happen, good or bad.  I tried to eat something small and I was feeling a bit better when a young gal said "can you believe we are meeting Oprah for lunch?"

WHATTTTTT???"??? What the heck? Im just a teacher/mom of five, what drug are you on. I said "what" and she replied "the lunch pass on your neck".  Now people, anyone that knows me knows I would never steal something like this from someone, take something that belonged to another. I looked around like I had just been put in the cross hairs of Oprah snipers, security would jump on me for sure. I stayed cool. "Yeah its pretty cool". Play calm, this girl looks amazing, Ive thrown up ten times today, I dont belong, I dont deserve this, voices, voices, I might be speaking tongues...... As she walked away she said "see you on the floor". Ok now Im breaking the code.... The ground floor was meeting Oprah for lunch and somehow I got a pass- many were spread out on that table, and no "VIP" stamp or anything. Begin your life on the lamb, NOW. If you run no one will arrest you. You can dye your hair and be in Phoenix before they knew it. So I began to walk up to the 15th row when a group of ground people from the floor jumped the fence to use the ground restroom. Ummm, I jumped too, just in the opposite direction.

OK so "what now" you con artist, life of crime, sneaky person... NO CLUE, no clue. So I did what anyone would do, sat next to a security guard, we talked about his life a bit. Waiting for the rightfully chosen to take their seats, and then it dawned on me. The extra speakers had been sitting fifth row center, and they had never returned. I walked past 35 rows and sat down like I belonged. Thank god for my pacemaker, because I would have died. Oprah spoke and she was feet away from me. I kept asking those around me if I took their seat and they shook their head NO. The lunch line soon lined up and I fell in line like a baby duck. "God speaks to you in whispers, he opens windows, blah blah, Im back to tongues". Then I turned the corner and large men stood. The not so friendly staff was in line checking badges, so I hid back in line.... my inner dialogue was "say Smith is your last name, someone is Smith.... No that wont work they will take someones name off the list.... If I tell the truth they might throw me out..... My intent was not to hurt anyone....."  "MAAM Next in line", I looked up and saw a smiling young girl, no mean face.  "Hi my last name is Wehner". "Sorry Maam you arent on the VIP list" she looked confused. "Oh Im sorry I must be in the wrong" and I turned around. Hey I met her security team, thats enough. I sat on the floor for 30 minutes, thats enough. I turned to sprint out before they tazed me.  "Maam, Maam". I spun around "the computer systems were down this morning, perhaps you won a pass at O Town?" I dont know if she threw me the bone on purpose but I took it. "Yup". "I will have to manually put you in so your photo is printed with your information". (A Photo, a freaking PHOTO)...H-N-E-R. "Ok maam go ahead". Clue number 535 you might not belong:
1) you didnt comb your hair...... this week.
2)You smell like vomit
3) You didnt wear makeup, not even over the growth that could be infectious
4) you are sweating behind your ears, knees, toenails.

Everyone in line was super calm, excited yes, but creepy calm. Gearing up for "another" picture with "another" celebrity type feel. I was so happy I forgot to take off my wedding ring before travel. I kind of looked like I could fit in. I turned to tell the man behind me I might faint, or say weird stuff..... He whispered "I KNOW!!!!! Can you freaking believe this!!" in my head I thought "certainly God would send me a gay bestie at this exact moment. If this all wasnt on purpose it was for sure now". As I grew closer to the next curtain I wasnt quite sure if we had another security check, I just remember my purse being taken, all phones, and then a shove. INTO OPRAH.  I had only 40 minutes from the girl in line until this moment, I of course was the one girl shaking. Oprah broke from a smile to a very concerned face "you need to sit". She pointed to a staff who took me to the crying chair. Apparently they had fainters before. After ten minutes of other people coming through Oprah said "come on up honey, you are smiling now, I wasnt going to send you home with a crying photo". The rest was me floating, on air. I hadn't even enough time to call anyone before this.

 I texted my husband the photo and he said "God I sure hope she got your autograph". The thing is, he means it. I sat back in my fifth row seat and Rob Bell gave the most amazing speech on the odds in this life. I sat there in shock as he walked by me saying "You are here, right now, in this room, by no accident". His words moved me to no end. He wrapped up with the odds of being a thriving, living beings, on this planet, this country, this time. As a pastor he says he is asked "isnt that a miracle pastor?" he responds by saying "it is ALL a miracle isnt it?".

The puppy didnt make it. I wore him in my sports bra for 4 days to kangaroo and he did well. I tucked him away to his own bed for five minutes so I could take a bath, my one daily escape. I scooped him out after ten minutes and he was really warm. He wasnt breathing though. So I tried animal CPR on a puppy that fit in the palm of my hand. Then I rubbed him in between my hands for a few minutes, then I repeated it all. I cry if needed in private, or if Im really mad, which is an odd female juxtaposition we never asked for. Nonetheless, I wept.... Full blown snot and all. I wasn't supposed to care about a puppy after four days, and he was a foster dog..... But I wept. I thought I had the magic touch, I've done pretty well with all my children....... I think it was god whispering....... a different whisper. "Life can be taken away, in a blink my child". It was a blink, the table was a blink.... this lifes a BLINK. Your footprint on this world is a small dot.... But damnit I want mine in glitter red.

"Something smells like vomit, is her ring real?" - Mama O

My treehouse

I find myself now-a-days thinking how different life has become than the hopes and dreams we played out in our first grade heads. So many of you have these amazing kids, with awesome talents and it's fascinating. It's a blessed life. Three of our five kids are considered mentally/emotionally disabled, which leaves a very slim to none chance of full recovery. It's a truth I've embraced while laying plans for their first grade brains, because honestly I don't know that they can for themselves. We have mandatory 504-IEP-DDD-ALTCCS meetings in our house. If you don't know any of those terms thank the stars above. Last week I had a meeting with five highly trained/educated professionals and upon gathering my things to leave the Dr said "I have to ask what your long term goal is for your child, realistically given the data".... I paused and breathed in strength and said "a GED, not homeless, and safe relationships, a trade job most likely".... The dr responded "not many parents have your training, nor foresight." I nodded and left..... Those days you wonder if your interjection, your life has helped the process that was already set into place....

Tonight I'm sleeping in a tree house. It's my first time. I had those 1st grade dreams, but then 3rd to 6th grade reality hit our family with cancer, I was the youngest always, so I just grew up quick. Having kids on the spectrum I can tell you I'm a bit Aspergers. Loud places, loud music, the smell of coffee, burnt eggs, I literally twitch. I've had a whirlwind career and life, but I don't think I can say I was ever child like. In all fairness this tree house has wifi and a small AC unit, but.... It's my first time?! Yikes.

Upon selling my business I returned home and for the first time in 17 years I don't have a "job". I have income, I contribute, but no schedule. I would have this situation with or without my husband, with or without kids (we all know kids make you money right). My husband and brother went out to get me dinner the other night and came back 5 hours later talking about pirates and "life changing sushi" and the guy who hit on my brother (my brother wears pink way too much, I think it unfairly puts him on the market). They were kids, they still play. In the last two months I find myself seeking out my first grade dreams, as much as I can while keeping my feet on the ground. My closest friends know I've been studying a new career, and I'm such a nerd I just love to immerse into things, study people, watch them..... I've been taking some improv classes and I watch these kids (20's) being asked to weep, lose a loved one, show joy after seeing your child for the first time. Don't get me wrong, they try hard, they ARE good, but my gut jumps, leaps, wanting to say "go do it, please live that first". They seem like babies to me, playing dress up. We had one minute alone to create a scene with little dialogue, but something that would touch the class. Mine was about our mentally ill child, getting another call from another Dr., and another request to move her. I heard someone cry in the back of my class..... I can't act, I can relive, re tell, recall.

I don't know if everything will play out ok for my kids, for me, for the rest of our lives. I've learned to let that go. I try to let little things go. Those that are close to me and know me well, and LOVE me and are supportive know my journeys. Others may watch on Facebook and judge..... Judge away, it's sad you have time in your day to judge little ole me.

In 1st grade I wanted to be a lawyer, a mom, an actress. No law degree but basically I am one, so I check the first two off. The biggest gift you can give your children is the opportunity to show them you love their father, and you live your dreams. If my kid comes to me wanting to backpack and stay in hostels, or a tree house to travel the globe I will be happy they are able to do that...... Because right now our retirement plan includes at least two kids living with us long term. I'd tell my kids to find a partner who can grow up with them, because we are still children inside, especially if you meet at 21. Sure grow old too, but grow up as well, learn to change and become an adult together. Honestly you are just sitting across the table paying bills with a 8 year old boy who misses his dad, and that damn bike someone stole from him in 1st grade.

So I ask you, have you found your tree house? Or did someone tear it down ;)

Losing Ant

Some of you called him Ant, some Antoine, Tony.... We all called him our friend. Anthony Basilo sent me check "yes" or "no" type love notes through most of elementary. He liked the ladies, what can I say? When we were back at high school together we spent a ton of time together. We lost Anthony too soon, we will never have answers because the question in itself is too hard to answer, no answer will ever do, ever. No answer is sufficient.

People will use the term "life of the party" quite a bit, but really that was Anthony. Whenever I walked into a room, just like all of you, he would be so excited to see me. "HEEYYY Whats up??". In high school we had different paths, but Anthony was one of the few who could care less. I was a nerd, he still invited me out, I didnt date, he still asked me to dances. I was always speaking at some debate tournament or DECA tournament and Anthony was always a supportive person. I remember over the years he would come to me for advice. "Tell me how to do this business idea, I trust your opinion". Looking over the memories I have with Anthony there really were so many, yet not enough, not enough.

I had just moved back to AZ last month and the first person I wrote was Anthony. Its weird how things play out, but I had Anthony in my house in July of 07 days after becoming a mom for the first time, to two toddlers. He rushed my job so the kids could have grass to play in. He would come inside to chat after dark and just stay to eat fascinated about "foster care" and our two new babies, He would talk to my husband about business. With Anthony if he was with you, no one else was around, he could focus in and make you feel amazing. I was shell shocked, instant mom of toddlers is a crazy scenario. He was transparent, he wasn't the guy who said "you have this its OK" he was the friend who was with you in the trenches. "Holy cow, Ok that kid just threw up, WOAH she just fell over" blowing smoke wasn't his deal. But he would be the first to help fix it, or compliment you when it was all better.

Anthony was coming over two weeks ago to see me and last minute cancelled. I had asked him to do our yard again, but as friends I was excited to see him again. His text was "Morgan I am so sorry but one of my jobs just grew and I would never want to disappoint you. Please use my friend instead I have told him about you. Im so sorry for flaking out on you really Im so sorry". That week I went out with another friend and we were retelling our high school days, our DECA trips. Our friend casually mentioned that I never dated in high school except Anthony to his fiance. I started to laugh audibly, Anthony for me was just a friend, we spent alot of time late in Ms.Frahms class, or grabbing food at Floridinos, hanging out with Jake, Eric, Phil, or Will. Traveling on field trips. "So He never ever tried to kiss you?"" Umm NO" I said like, that was my friend, like my brother. I never was a healthy person and Jake and Anthony use to give me piggy back rides around. You could never really stay mad at Anthony for anything he did because he never had an ill intention. If he hurt someones feelings unwarranted he was translucent and shame would just go right across his face. If people teased me he would jump in and say "Ok, Ok, we were kidding, right come on guys", he was the game changer. He could set the tone.

Anthony and I kept in touch over facebook and texts. It was an annual lunch or 3 hour long conversation out of nowhere. Going over my texts from him they read "I need your opinion on my business plan please call me now", or "I see that you had surgery you must call me tonight, I can come out there", or "I screwed up and said something that could upset you later on please call me, Im so sorry". He always had a  sense of urgency. Through high school and even after he would show up and text me "Im outside". He was a deep thinker in his non "life of the party" moments. Maybe I was just on the other side of that life, I let him deep think. All I know is that no matter what whenever we saw eachother we just picked up from where we left off. His laugh was contagious, and moreover he cracked himself up. Many times I would find myself buckled in laughter because he found himself so funny, his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. I'd stare at him and shake my head with a grin.

I laughed on the way home from dinner that night, "I dated Anthony Basilo I guess" I said to my husband. "Oh Yeah whens he coming over next", "not sure he got a big job"..... and he didnt want to disappoint me. He wouldn't want to disappoint anyone. Normally, prior to five kids I would have totally given Anthony a guilt trip and he would have showed up to meet me. Now in our 30's I let it go. Im sorry that I did. I know we would have talked for hours. And thats the crux right, thats the jab? We all have that feeling right now that we missed our chance. Ive never had a sudden loss of a friend and it feels like a rug pulled. No we weren't daily friends, we were lifelong friends. We were emergency friends, we were "Im in a ditch and need a sidekick friends". We will meet again, and if anything I know for sure, I know regardless of who is waiting for me in Heaven Anthony will be the happiest, loudest, most boisterous greeter of them all. Because, Anthony, you could never disappoint me. Your light was just too bright my friend to disappoint. I can say in the 33 years he had with us he had more laughter, sweetness, fun, and living than most of us can ever obtain, even at 100 years. He just did. He lived joyfully, and thats how I choose to see him forever.

Home is where the ......

In July of 07 two sickly babies came into our lives via a phone call. A phone call that was a kin to someone placing a pizza order. They were sick, really sick. A year later Bryce came to us in Oct of 08 never having lived in a home, we had to gain a medical license to keep him. Six days in I realized I'm not a nurse, he could die, so we lived at Phoenix Children's.... June of 09 our 8 year old joined us, and what entailed was 3-6 years of therapy. All kinds really, sandtray, art, talking, sensory, physical, speech, occupational, feeding. In April of 2012 I sat at my kitchen and heard "we can close their services". After 5 years in the system it was as if someone yelled "you're free". So we ran, to find a beach town, boats, and small town people. A place we wouldn't have to associate our kids with "former foster kids", in a state they were never hurt, with people and doctors who never had to ask them about anything bad in their life. We escaped, with a five week old on a plane, I saw ocean and freedom.

Some might argue a hasty decision and its a valid one. Some might argue a fresh reset, no old haunts, and that's valid as well. As the weeks and months went by we made our businesses grow, made some friends, made some enemies, and laid our own boundaries for our family.

The thing with a mom of five kids, four delivered with diagnoses and medications, we are lions. We may hibernate for some time, but the line in the sand is drawn. Mess with me all day long, mess with my kids and Momma Bear comes out.

I think what I learned on our little adventure is we had nothing to run away from. We had teachers and staff that loved our kids, knew our family, and knew our kids' history. We had communities full of large families, all adopted, "five kids only" was a thing. I have friends with 17. We had a school district that people answered your call on spring break, and questions like "what is easiest for your child's needs" and "you know best, tell us" were said. I never felt on trial.

Had I not moved to Florida I would not have met some amazing women. A wonderful team of doctors willing to look further into my heart condition and save me with a pacemaker. Had I not moved to Florida I wouldn't have realized that home is where you belong. Where your values belong, your kids belong, your weirdness belongs.

After some tough nights I realized my purpose in moving to Florida was to give my kids a better life, not a rougher one. So we had a year at disneyworld, we rented boats, went on cruises, saved my heart, and we were here to serve Martin County. If anyone needed anything we gave it, because that's what we had come from. Helping others, no judgment. A little boy from my sons special Ed class was arrested last week, age 7, for hitting his teacher. It shook my bones, but what was worse? The women and men posting "hooray" and "obviously no consequence at home" under the article. Its painful having a kid with processing disorder, low IQ, and Oppositional Defiant disorder. Their brain is in fight or flight all the time. God forbid any of these facebook adults have kids, god forbid if those kids ever fall off their bike and hurt themselves enough to cause frontal lobe damage, delays.

I befriended the mom, told her I was sorry, and she cried quietly. No one had said that to her. "I'm sorry they took him to jail, I'm sorry he doesn't understand what he did wrong, I'm sorry because I know you try, Ive seen you try". Sometimes when you are in ditches, caves, illness, or despair the only thing god gave us to combat it is empathy. Home for me is wherever my kids thrive, home for me is where empathy is on tap, home for me is no longer here. I never got the memo that a mama bears spirit and love for her son has less or more value based on her zip code, income level, color of skin. I never got the memo to "stay out of it" either. I tend to walk right up to help....because we should. We all should.

To my friends here in FL I will miss you. To the people we met here may you remember we were a family of service, philanthropy, and empathy. No one has ever stepped over my threshold with a shred of judgment in my soul towards them. If all I remember from Sunday school is to love your brother/sisters in this lifetime, then I am good. Home is where empathy abounds. Where me saying "yeah shes totally pulling one over on you teach" is valued, respected, and not judged for being too tough. Home is where we might run into people who took our kids on court visits, maybe an old family member, an old cop. And while that is not a great thing, its just likely, so its our reality. Home is there. Home is not here...........

Pancakes, Heaven, and Marriage

My husband is old.... his beard is turning grey, hes got bum knees.... I look at him and think, "how did this happen"? Meaning my life, my family, my health, my career, my 20's (gone). He's knocking on the door of 40 but Im older than him. We don't adopt any one religion.... Probably because I believe truths in each valid story of faith. I cant argue I was given an old soul, an old body. My outside appearance certainly doesn't match my insides....

Looking in the mirror now I have 45 more pounds on my frame, stretch marks from child holding, abdominal scars from a c-section, a chest scar from my pacemaker, black puffy eye sacks from Addisons/lack of sleep, and severe hand tremors like Parkinsons. In the background a stack of 18 boxes of girl scout cookies.... That Ive hidden from my children. YUP, for me. Cellulite is just a gold star on your accomplishment board I tell myself. I wear makeup maybe once a week, so I don't scare my students off. Yet I still get "You've got five kids???" or "You've taught ten years??" all the time.

I was hungry when I met Kevin, literally. Girls in college who waitress at sleazy bars live off Ramen noodles and Dr.Pepper. He was OH SO MATURE and could afford a few nights of dinner dates each week. I didn't really know we were dating, thats how experienced I was in the dating field. I had a boyfriend in college, and thats about it on my experience chart, and he was the kind of guy you were meant to be friends with too, not really date (for me).... I ordered the "hungry man platter" at IHOP on our first date, used the restroom with my girl friend, and then returned to a paid bill?? I turned to my friend with deer eyes, like "oh god do I have to kiss him now?".  Thats what age 20 does to your brain. Thank god the internet or social networks weren't around when I was in high school, even college really. Id really be into self loathing if I had to be a teen NOW. I hide the internet from my 13 year old but think "no the sheltered girls were the worst" in high school. Don't get me wrong. Most of the good girls were good girls. BUT some of the super strict homes produced girls with an eye for a wild streak. Luckily my brother paved the way with a tattoo by age 15 so I really didn't feel the need to get into too much trouble.

The night my water broke, the same night about five hours prior I wrote a farewell letter to my husband, to my kids. One I paid for to be delivered a month later, which happen to fall on my father in laws death anniversary. I figured I could intercept it if I had come through labor all right. I know it sounds so morbid, but the Pheochromocitoma tests they were running, and my months of bed rest made me more of a realist than a pity party person. I suppose thats my one huge complaint in life, my outsides dont match my insides.... I guess thats why heaven is so appealing to me. My water broke three days before my "emergency" test results came in, a test that would tell us if I could have anesthesia. But a baby stuck frank breach it was anesthesia or nothing really. Yet I was so calm, I had this faith that if the drugs reacted and I went into some cardiac failure that my only concern was for my family left behind. I imagine these throbbing lights of souls interacting with eachother in heaven. No judgments on figure, faces, income, makeup, race, or religion. I'm not knocking anyones religion here, but my best friend is Muslim, I had a Rabbi great grandfather, we were raised Catholic, and Buddhism/meditation has been around since man kind really. Somewhere in my head I hope I never have to see my old man husband die.... His light is the center of our house. The kids and I orbit around his calm stability. He can be a pain in my butt at times, but if anyone comes for him they are going to come through me first.

It was around seven dates, seven meals, and I realized I had fallen for him. Damnit. I had a job offer in San Diego lined up, this wasn't in the cards. He had baggage, like BAGGAGE. Here is the kicker, HE NEVER tried to kiss me, date seven??? Really?? I mean boys in high school were buying a frosty from Wendys and expecting more right? Gross.

"Remember our first date?" I asked him last night..... "Yup you ordered the hungry man platter at IHOP".... "And that did it for you huh?"..... "Yeah I guess plus you CLEARLY wanted me" he says now. "Yeah just remember who kissed who you big butthead"..... I guess Im just glad I ordered those pancakes.  

Swimming in the deep

Im not athletic, we've determined that. Anyone that needs a pacemaker by 30 is last on your dodgeball dream team, I get it. I wouldn't pick me either. My bucket list includes alot of items most people dont have, it usually involves a lounge chair...... But when a last minute cruise popped up I jumped on it to swim with some sting rays. You read that right, I jump into the deep end in most areas of my life. Stamp "WIMP" on me if its athletic, or has to deal with urine, as in animals that can kill and/or pee on you. Here's my theory, five kids, ive hit the pee limit. Plus anytime a cute Jamaican guy says "Hey MON we dont de barb them, they learn to trust you in five minutes" my first vision is Steve Irwin......so lets just say it wasn't a quiet "swim", my swim mates didn't have a jovial or come to jesus swim, my apologies. I believe the term "speaking in tongues" could apply to my fear level.

Our fourth child Bryce was born at 24 weeks gestation, on the floor of a kitchen that likely had never been cleaned. He weighed 1pd 2 oz and he was born to parents that didn't get to/want to visit him in the NICU. This is a sad thought but working my way through the weeds of Child Protective Services I have been able to create a vault in my head where all of those facts live. To be opened when demanded to by a licensed professional and/or my child when they are ready. I imagine an image much like the movie "Inception" of a huge doll house that cracks half way to show a vault of paperwork, steel trapped.

"We have an extra seat" he said in June 2011, driving our SUV that held seven, "Yes we do lets hope the social skills training kicks in and we get a friend up in here for these coo coo birds". Six weeks later I was pregnant, the man needs to start pointing at water and saying "wine" and a BAM for effect. Fast forward 7 months and we are at Banner Desert NICU since I was 3 cm dilated at 30 weeks. The nurse was pleasant, calm, smelled clean, soft hands, everything you could want for a sick child. She looked educated, but not tired of her job, early 40's, mature enough, but not burnt out. She showed us the three night rooms where moms sleep while babies are in the NICU, a breast feeding area, and isolets, baby incubators, all except one were empty. We walked silently up and down the rows and I was in the front. I could feel the lump in my throat build as each isolet passed me, vacant. I heard soft steps of the nurse and my husband close behind. It was time to turn around as I had reached the end.... I swung around to my 38 year old husband biting his lip white. I whispered to the nurse "our baby lived here 8 months alone, we just, um, I guess we just weren't prepared, he wasnt ours yet so....."  Tears fell down my husbands face as he nodded that was what he had been thinking the whole time. I could tell in his face. "Oh my, I will get tissues" the nurse said as she ran to a cabinet stocked with boxes that went on for days, as I imagine a unit like this needs. God, Grace, Kleenex, and realism fully stocked. I thanked her for the kleenex and she said "Im a bit teary myself, we never get to see if those babies make it, and the parents just dont come, they leave them here, so this new baby is a blessing since you couldnt....." awkward silence.... "No we could actually, we just didnt see the point I guess, Im 31 weeks so anything you throw at me we will be fine, if I have to live here or otherwise, I guess we didnt need to see this place, or maybe we did......".

Bryce will be seven this February. We were happy he hit 45 pounds and a size 4 outfit last month. He memorizes patterns, loves music, shapes, math, science, quiet, and dark rooms. He doesnt really have proper emotion yet but I think in time he will. If he doesnt that is OK. Bryce had been on tubes his whole life to eat so when we got him at 23 months they told me he had a slim chance to learn how to eat. I had a slim chance of staying sain in a house with a child who couldnt eat, AKA could die on anything in his mouth. We drove two hours each way to therapy in Tucson, while I taught High School Econ, while I was opening a business. Kevin and I were the only two that could feed him. Thats OK, its scary stuff, but talk about pressure. Phones stopped ringing.

Five years later and notes home include "Bryce did very well on his actual work today, but he spit on his classmate for no reason". "Bryce understood the second grade concept of regrouping but called everyone Buttheads at lunch", "Bryce is very responsive when we use the computer or smart board, but he has been grabbing teachers' breasts this week".

People may say we have a Le ze Faire attitude in life, maybe we do. That one baby in that one isolete that day I said a prayer for, it went something like this "Jesus, Buddha, Bretheren, Allah and all my grandfathers and fathers watch over this sweet baby, may the right home get this child, namaste, peace be with you, amen and Walakem Salam". My daughter was partially raised by a lesbian couple more committed than Britney Spears was at 1am in Las vegas, our other by a single mom with kids from different men "gasp living in sin". Our licensing worker has had the same boyfriend for 15 years or so. I will say this once, a baby wrapped in the arms of a loving, able, educated adult....... Or left lit by a bulb, effectively alone for 8 months, well its no choice for me, sorry. Civil/Equal rights that can save a few hundred kids from homelessness, helplessness, and GET a married committed couple that shows true partnership, Im in. LIFE and its lessons are so much bigger than some award show.

We have one picture of Bryce in his isolete, my husband hates it.... "Thats not my hand" he says....... We jump in the deep end. We swim with the barbs in, but dammit if I don't go down yelling. I might be small but weak is a state of mind..... My kid eats anything he wants, never tell me never. On to personal space and large crowd control next.................

"We have an empty seat now" he said last night looking in the back of our SUV that seats 8.......... I swear to God that might make TWO empty seats if you keep talking my love....... Shhhhhhh