The Lisa Life

Lastest Stupid Comment

IP: 24.11.78.130

name: whoseyerfriend?

email: [email protected]

IP: 24.11.78.130

Comment: How do you remain her friend?  She resents you, ya know.  Look at what she's doing to herself.  How can you watch that?  Or do you resent her too?  Wow with friends like the two of you.....

Real name?  Jamilyn from Grandville, MI.  On Comcast.

This has to do with Nigerians how, exactly?

Buh bye Jamilyn!

Those Pesky Nigerians

I came across Hogs On Ice while reading blogs about the hurricanes.  I have been snorting wine and Diet Coke all over my screen (although thankfully not at the same time) ever since discovering Steve's category, "Good Morning, Nigeria."

Steve, you probably wouldn't agree with my politics, but dude, you not only make your own beer, you are doing God's work.

Good Morning, Nigeria!

Fun With Real Estate

I've been looking for a new dwelling recently in our effort to downsize.  It's been very interesting.

I looked at an adorable cottage in between Little Crooked Lake and Big Crooked Lake and it had a stunning view, two levels of decking, it came with a pontoon and oh, did I mention, it was on a lake? Cute as could be from the outside. It allegedly had three bedrooms. This was not the reality. It had three twin beds crammed into walk in closets.  There was literally no room for anything else in these alleged bedrooms except the twin beds.  That would be fine if you were a family of Munchkins who were also nudist Munchkins and didn't need a dresser or closet to store clothes since you didn't wear clothes, being a nudist Munchkin and all. THERE WAS NOT ONE CLOSET IN THE WHOLE PLACE! For a regular size family like mine who is not nudist, this just wasn't happening.

Jail cells are bigger than these alleged bedrooms.  Inmates at least have lockers to store their clothes in.

This evening, I looked at a condo in Howell.  My husband had arranged the appointment with the real estate woman and since Martin is still not feeling well from the abscessed tooth (not to mention how goofy he gets on the painkillers, yeah, please sublet this condo to us and oh by the way, here's my husband who is generally charming but don't mind him drooling on his shirt or wandering off and getting lost) my mother-in-law, Margaret and I went to see it.

The real estate woman was a total wacked out bitchy grandma.  She was old.  Really old.  I'd say 80s, but maybe it was just her gravel Gerty whiskey sours and Pall Malls for lunch voice.  She was Grandma age but horror to the kid who's grandma she was.  "Come here my little one, so Granny can smother you in Cool Coral Estee Lauder kisses and rub some Shalimar on over your fresh baby scent!  Oh, did I poke your eye out with my cocktail ring?  So sorry!"  That kind of grandmother.  She had on high heel mules, for the love of God and the Sweet Baby Jesus.  She had on Desparate Housewives shoes versus Golden Girl shoes.  She had on a silk tank top with sequin thingies and a push up bra (ain't no way that was nature) and it was kind of sad and certainly scary.

The condo, however, is fabulous (stainless steel appliances and first floor laundry. fireplace, great deck) and best of all?  BEST OF ALL?  SOMEONE ELSE MOWS THE GODDAMN GRASS!  Yes, we are applying for it and hope to get it. 

I'm not thrilled with the location but I can deal with just about anything for a while and it's new and it's shiny and it's in the price range we were hoping for and we can take a dog with us and we won't be sleeping in closets and becoming nudists just so we can see a goddman lake.  I like in the Great Lakes State, if I want to see a goddamn lake, I'll get in my car and drive two miles.

Adoption Basics

In keeping with the adoption theme, I'm going to write about adoption basics.  There are a lot of really useful resources online about adoption, but I'd like to give a realistic view of my experience without being all politically correct, as some of the forums can be.

1) I'm Thinking About Adopting.  Now What?

The first step is to complete a homestudy and background check.  Be forewarned, these are pretty invasive.  Although they vary from state to state,the bottom line is that you're going to get asked some really personal questions and pretty much need to provide an autobiography detailing every aspect of your life.  We were very fortunate in that our social worker is a fabulous lady who is also an adoptive mother, in addition to having been a social worker and professor for well over twenty years. I now consider her a friend and I know she reads here once in a while. Hi Phyllis!  You rock! If you have a good social worker, they will help you explore what type of adoption you would like to pursue, domestic or international,and ask you some tough questions about what type of child you are interested in.  Special needs?  Transracial adoption?  What culture are you interested in adopting from?  How will you teach your child about their native culture?  An older waiting child?  The social worker should not only interview you but educate you as well.

2.  How Long Does It Take?

This again varies depending on what type of child you want to adopt.  We didn't want to go international just because there are so many children here in the United States who need families.  Race and sex were not an issue.  We were pretty much open to any child in the States without known physical disabilities.  Knowing that I would have to work and would not be able to be a stay at home mom is the only reason we were hesitant in accepting a child with disabilities.  We considered adopting a waiting child but for the same reason, decided to go with an infant.  Our social worker also educated us about the disruption of the birth order, since my son was ten at the time and most of the waiting children were too close to his age. 

Also, a sad fact is that many many biracial children are hard to place.  Some of this stems from the fact that ten years ago, it wasn't considered desirable to place a brown child with a white family.  Yet the African Americans weren't adopting them in record numbers either.  This has changed.  They are now placed regularly with white families, black families and biracial families.  Still, a lot of people have it stuck in their heads that their child will only be their child if their ethnic background matches.

Good thing Martin and I weren't stuck on that or we'd probably still be waiting for an English/Italian baby.

It took us two years and one failed adoption (a "paper miscarriage" according to our social worker) to adopt Mia. 

3. But It's So Expensive!

Yes, it sure can be.  All told, ours was about $30,000.  It was on the high side because we paid birthmother expenses for a long period of time.  No, our birthmother was not living in the lap of luxury, shopping at Saks for her maternity wear.  She was living in a residential motel when we first matched and we paid for her to move to a rental house.  We paid her rent through the agency, and utilities and a small grocery stipend. On a humorous note, the man who owned the house our birthmother rented was giddy that the agency paid the rent and asked them to make it available to other birthmothers.  He thought it was a great idea since he knew he would be getting his rent on time and had a brother who was adopted.  See, people are nice.  Our agency fee was about $8000, which I included in that $30,000 but that covered all the legal fees, the homestudy visits, the follow ups, etc.  A common fallacy is that the birthmothers do this and make money.  Not true at all.   

A lot of people use the financial aspect to decide not to adopt.  Look at it this way. How much do people pay for infertility issues?  Lots of that money could be channeled into adoption where you know you will end up with a baby.  Also, doing a foster to adopt costs very little.  There are so many options, only limited by creativity.  The dollar amount depends on what you are able to spend and how creative you are willing to be.  I know of people who did fund raisers for trips to adopt internationally.  If there is a will, there is a way and the money shouldn't be a stumbling block.

4.  What About The Adoption Tax Credit?

This is a tax credit.  It's not like the IRS is writing you a check for ten grand.  It carries over from year to year until you use it up.  Michigan also has a $2500 credit, good for one year only.

So that's the first installment.  Please feel free to share your adoption journeys in the comments, let me know what else you are interested in hearing about and if you have something you would like to discuss off the comments, please feel free to email me.

The Adoption Film

Hat tip to Karen for posting this first.  PBS is doing a documentary on adoption.  You can read about it here.

This sounds like not only a long overdue project, but finally an honest portrait.  So many rumors and urban legends swirl around about adoption, it's time the truth was talked about. Although I consider myself an armchair expert on adoption, I was pretty stunned at the statistic that one in three Americans is touched by adoption.

I knew my family were the poster children for adoption since Martin and I were both adopted as infants and adopted our daughter but I never realized how far reaching the numbers are. 

Adoption has always been a part of me, my life, of who I am.  I was very fortunate that my parents treated it in such a positive manner and made sure I knew I was loved and wanted and no different than any other kid.  I only had a couple negative experiences ever. 

So, ignorance does still exist about adoption.  As an adult adoptee and an adoptive parent, I think it's part of my duty to educate people about adoption.  I am fortunate that my parents were ahead of the curve and dismissed all the secrecy about adoption that existed back in the 60s as utter nonsense and were always honest and open about it.  I plan on doing the same with Mia.  I think that is the only healthy reasonable solution.

I don't blog about the details of Mia's adoption for personal private reasons relating to her birth family.  Also, I don't consider it anyone's business except ours and the people close to us we wish to share it with.   I have been inspired, however, in reading about the documentary, to address some general questions and untruths about adoption and I will be writing about those. 

Boring

What is the most common small talk, make desperate conversation, what do I say to this person boring subject on earth?

The Weather.

So, I'm going to talk about the weather.

Alhtough Michigan has it's share of inclement weather, including tornadoes, bitter cold long winters, lots and lots of snow (did I mention it snows here?) and the random wild ass thunderstorm,not to mention that we even had a tiny earthquake several years back, we don't have hurricanes, thank God and the sweet baby Jesus.  In fact, about five years ago, I drove through a tornado and it was the single most scary thing I have ever felt.  It didn't help that I had on my old softball cleats at the time and all I could think of was, "Okay, these are plastic cleats, right?  RIGHT?"

Sometimes, though, even though Mother Nature is the Mother and a post-menopausal bitch with wicked hot flashes, wildly unpredictable mood swings and a bad temper, we have some truly knock out days.

Days that make me remember, "Hey!  This is why I live here!  THIS!"  Today was one of those days.  We had quite a thunderstorm last night but it had cleared by the time I went to bed.  In the morning, there was just a touch of chill in the air, just enough to throw on a sweatshirt over my tee-shirt.  By this afternoon, it was a knock-out day.  Clear blue skies, that smell after a good rain, a little breeze, a moderate temperature.

It was a great day in the Motor Capital Of The World.

NOTE:  How do I know it's the Motor Capital Of The World?  Because my license plate says so, even though it's wrong.  The Big Three factories here are closing left and right and General Motors is now considered a junk stock. GENERAL MOTORS, people!   Oh wait, I should do a different post on Jenny From The Block.

I'm starting to think that Katrina and Rita are twin adolescent sisters raised by that Mother and they are going to wreak all their teen-age angst onto our fair country.  I also saw something that made it look like Rita may head toward Crawford, Texas and although I feel for 99 per cent of the population of Crawford if it does hit, a part of me can't help but think karma, baby.  Karma.

Crocodile Hunter Mia

Mia has lately taken to putting on Martin's Australian style hat and wandering around saying repeatedly, "Hat.  HAT!  HAT!"

Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch Changes

I still don't know what I was waiting for/And my time was running wild/A million dead end streets/Every time I thought I'd got it made/It seemed the taste was not so sweet/So I turned myself to face me/But I've never caught a glimpse/Of how others must see the faker/I'm much too fast to fake that test/ Ch-ch-ch-ch changes/Turn and face the strain

Much change is afoot in our household.  First of all, we have made the decision to get out from under this money sucking house with the exorbitant property taxes.  The house needs a new roof, a new drainfield at the very least and possibly a new septic system, the basement continues to leak after being "fixed" three times and we have various other smaller issues that just add up to more than we are able or willing to invest in it.

We will be finding a smaller space probably in town.  You'd think I'd be upset about this.  After all, my father built this house.  I spent a considerable portion of my childhood here. 

It doesn't bother me a whit.

I look forward to not having to block out an entire day to clean the house and take care of the yard.  I look forward to being able to take Mia for walks on sidewalks, not down the side of a dirt road.  I might be able to own a black car again that won't constantly be dirty to the point I give up having it washed and wait for God's Little Car Wash. I plan to use this time to downsize and simplify and declutter.

The second big change is that Martin will be returning to school to pursue a nursing degree.  He's undecided if he is going to start with an LPN and then go for an RN while working or just go ahead with the RN to begin with.  (I know I have a couple nurse readers, so throw me some advice.)  There are several great programs nearby and although we will be living as poor students, in the long term, it's a great opportunity and a plan for our future. 

None of this would be possible without the love and support, both financially and emotionally, of my wonderful in-laws.  I am a very lucky woman in that I truly do love Margaret and Peter and enjoy spending time with them.  It means even more to me since both my parents are gone and I'm an only child. 

NOTE: I think Martin will be a great nurse, since he is great in sciences and has a lot of interest in them and also, he is a compassionate sensitive man. 

SECOND NOTE: I once wrote a paper based on David Bowie's song Rebel and used Marilyn Monroe and James Dean as guideposts.  I think I got a B on it.  I'm such a dork. 

Oh The Drama

I am allergic to insect stings, particularly bees and wasps.  The older I've gotten and the more I've gotten stung, the more allergic I have become.

When I played softball regularly, this was of particular concern and I always had an up-to-date Epi-Pen close by and carried Benydryl in my bag.

I haven't played softball in quite a while and I avoid insects so it hasn't been an issue.  Until lately.  Since I work in BFE, the bugs abound.  And we are pretty sure there is a whole colony of yellow jackets living in our circa 1987 air conditioning unit. 

They turn up in the office in droves.  Boss the Son is also allergic and he and I do a lot of ducking and shucking while Michelle kills the little bastards.

Today, a gloomy, cloudy cool day in beautiful Southeast Michigan, I was leaning over Boss the Father's desk going over our Nextel bill (or the monthly book of Nextel, as I refer to it) when I felt something prickly in my sandal.  (There is no snow so I have on sandals much to the dismay of Boss the Father who thinks we should all wear workboots, all the time and well, NO.) 

I was stung.  Epi-pen in the glove box?  2003.  Thankfully, Michelle had some benydryl in her purse and I gulped down the two she threw at me and put my head between my legs.  I was getting the shakes and my foot was swelling up fiercely.  In the meantime, Boss the Father was still on about the Book Of Nextel while I was trying not to pass out and Michelle was squeezing my hands.

The benydryl did the trick though.  I was okay.  Boss the Father even went to the house for ice we had requested and came back with every single ice pack he had in the freezer and some cubes in a Ziploc bag, as well.  I think it scared him, seeing me dead white and shaking like that.

Of course, I walked around (limped) the rest of the day still hurting because even though the benydryl allievates the allergic reaction, the bee venom is still poison to me and makes me sick.  And the benydryl makes me loopy as all hell.

Drama avoided and no shot at ER with the nasty stuff that makes me puke for three days straight.

New Friends

I've added some new links in the Blogs I Like section.  I am terribly lazy about doing this and most of them, I've read for quite a while.

Give them a whirl.  Dragon's Den, Hooterville Holler, Ronni's Rants and Waiting for Someday.