‘Twas Halloween this past weekend (as you must well know). We had a good time with all the Halloweeny-festivities but also managed to be quite productive. Mike bought the paint for Girly’s room. Baby’s room. Sister’s room…I’m still not sure yet how we should refer to “her” until we have a name…and a child that accompanies that name. He also got the boys’ box springs wrapped in plastic and put up in the garage. (We don’t need them for their new loft beds). Mike cut a new wall/wood brace (in which we must reinstall the gate at the top of the stairs). He also put together the crib!!! The man was on a roll.

Huge news: our FBI clearance came in (phew!), and that’s SUPER fast (guess we’re just SUPER clean), so this means that the clock is now clicking for Joy to finish our home study (you have to have everything done within 60 days, I believe). But because Joy ROCKS she wants to get this thing done so we can get ready to wait, so to speak. It’s looking like my optimistic goal of January 1st for being licensed and ready to roll might actually be mid-Decemberish. Woohoo!

Now here’s an interesting thing that I must bring to your attention: while the identity of our daughter remains a mystery to us for now, once we have her some aspects of “her” will have to remain a mystery to you, my readers/family/friends. Let me explain: so there are two ways this adoption could go: A.) We’re picked by a birth mom and receive the relinquished infant or B.) We are shown foster babies/children that are legally free for adoption and we find one that is the right fit. If A. happens it works a little more like a traditional adoption…we most likely get to name her and have her from a much younger age. (It is also the most expensive route). If B. happens, we are legally required to call her by her birth name until we legally adopt her (at which point we can choose to change her name if it seems appropriate). Also, because she is technically a foster child until the adoption is finalized (usually after six months at the earliest), the state mandates that no photos can be placed on-line. This means that if B. happens, I can’t put pictures of our daughter on my blog or facebook or our family website until she is legally ours. That’ll be hard, I know.

Also, depending on the birth mom’s situation (for possibility A. or possibility B.) and out of respect for our daughter and ‘her story/ identity,’ we may choose to not share much of her past history/life before she came to live with us. This just all depends on the specific, different details that we can’t begin to imagine, but it’s a good possibility. There is so much about adoption that forces you to change the way you perceive and view things, and some of this could – to a certain extent – change a little bit how I even write my blog. Obviously I must stay true to myself (and to you!); however, there will be some things that I’ll need to state carefully or not at all.

Another thing with adoption is the fact that you’re judged on your likability – by potential birth moms and your ability to parent – by the agency and state. The agency obviously thinks that we’re good enough parents to adopt (phew!) and with their home study document (40 pages about us!), they try to paint a clear picture of who we are to the state social workers who are trying to find the best fit for their foster kids. The other thing that we have/get to do is to create two versions of a Family Profile. One is for the state with some pictures of us and our home and a basic introductory letter. The other one (the one I find a little more creative and fun) is a Family Profile for the birth moms to see. Basically it’s like a job application – pick us! Pick us! And I feel a lot of pressure to make it pretty, and creative, and potentially even crafty (something that I am so not a fan of or skilled at doing). As Joy – our adoption specialist – put it, “I don’t want you to think of it as a competition or a popularity contest or beauty pageant, BUT birth moms are shown about fifty of these and you should try to do your best to stand out from the crowd.” Um, no pressure.

Part of the Profile is the “Dear Birth Parent” letter. Adoptive parents know all about this – how, on one page, do you help someone make the most difficult choice in their lives? How do you convince them that you, are in fact, the most perfect, wonderful people and they should place their child’s life entirely in your hands and in your care? How does a birth mom even begin to make this choice?! Can you imagine? Looking through fifty books, narrowing it down and then finally just picking – based on paper – the people that you want to parent YOUR child, a person that’s currently living inside of YOU. Do you think there are some that just go eeny-meeny-miney-mo? I bet there are.

So, the question is: how to stand out? First of all, Joy did make me feel pretty good when she said, “But you guys shouldn’t have a problem ‘cuz you’re young and cute. My young and cute families almost always get picked.” OK, so we’re young and cute, that helps, BUT…here’s what I was thinking: it’s a given that it would be REALLY good to avoid the standard “Dear Birth Parent, We thank you so much for considering us. We’re honored and flattered and can’t begin to imagine the difficulty of this decision…Your sacrifice means the world to us, blahblahblah.” Obviously expressing gratitude and compassion is important, but by the 34th profile, you know that that Birth Mom (who may even, potentially, be in the hospital IN labor) is just skimming anything that looks like that.

I’m open to suggestions. Here are the two ideas I’m currently working with:

1.) “Once upon a time, there was a boy named Mike and a girl named Jenny. They met in college and fell in love...” It would be a story version of us, who we are, what’s important to us, important details (religious preference, family hobbies, values, general overview of our home/neighborhood, life, etc.) Everybody likes a story especially one with a “and they lived happily ever after” ending, though we’d need the birth mom’s help for writing the ending. Ahhh, touching. HOWEVER, I worry that this one would even seem too wordy to the poor tired Birth Mom who’s already read 17 profiles. So…
2.) “The Top Five Reasons…Why We Could Be Your Dream Family.” With a more bullet-point/countdown approach, just five doable paragraphs, we could present a theme-based, organized view of US. I don’t know, but I think this one may have the most potential. I’ve actually already written it though I’m sure I’ll edit it a thousand times. Joy thought it was a good idea, basically less is more, but you still want all the details to be there.

Those are my current thoughts, any ideas?! Let me know!

Along with the letter, we provide a little family photo album – us doing fun stuff and apparently looking drop-dead gorgeous (well, it wouldn’t hurt)! My dad suggested we just get some new picture frames and use the fake family photos that come with them….um, whatcha saying dad, we aren’t attractive enough for ya?! Talk about the ultimate judging a book by its cover…a book that’s going to raise your kid!! (OK, obviously a book can’t raise children, but I’m just trying to apply the expression here. Gimme a break.).

How, HOW do you convince someone to GIVE you their baby???? And HOW will she ever pick?? It’s quite the choice to have to make.

I chopped my hair last night. I figure, it's been four years since I did that, it was time. As usual, Mike's comment was: "It's short." Well, yes, honey, when have I ever come home from a haircut with longer hair? But, it's true, it's definitely short...er. The boys didn't even notice this morning, and when I finally just pointed it out, Matthew said, "It just looks like bed-head." (Which it was). Then after putting some product in (and that's literally how easy it is), Zach and I decided that at least it looks like "fancy bed-head." None of my students even noticed today. I'm pleased to say that I did get some cat-calls and whistles with the Bus Stop Crowd, so I made an impression there!

Three hours talking about myself?! Cake! And oh-so delightful. My individual adoption interview went really well last week. At least, I knew all the answers! It does blow my mind that even with 24 pages of autobiography, they still have questions to ask us. And obviously talking about myself is something that I do well, but even with my skill it was a pretty tiring process. There was one question that she asked me that I honestly haven’t ever thought about and it forced me to pause (for just a moment). When talking about my postpartum depression/therapy experience, Joy asked, “And what, do you feel, did you learn or get out of therapy?” Sheesh! That’s kind of a HUGE question. I’m pretty sure I rambled about learning to love and appreciate myself, to understand that the balance of putting myself first – so that I HAVE something to give to others – is a crucial practice (and that it will take practice). So, here I am, practicing what I preach – putting myself first with some quality latte and writing time.

Cooking is something that I’ve been doing for myself lately (well, yes, it’s for my family, too, but mostly for me). I’ve been researching new recipes, creating my own cookbook of recipes that I’ve printed out and plastic sheeted, and I’ve been planning meals for the whole week on Sunday afternoons. Monday has become Soup Night. I love the fall for it so nicely lends itself to the promotion and practice of Soup Night. I HEART my Crockpot and have blogged before on my Crockpot-head tendencies. Therefore, Monday is a happy day as it’s Crockpot Day/Soup Night.

I don’t toss around the H-word, and when I do employ the H-word it is because no other word carries the weighted emotion that it embodies, but here goes: The boys HATE my Crockpot and LOATHE Soup Night. They’ve both gone through phases of being the lead picky-eater in the house, but Soup Night provides them for a beautiful brother-bonding opportunity. They unite in their anti-Soup Night stand. It would be quite beautiful except that it’s quite annoying. The pediatricians of the world, parenting magazines, food-propagandists proclaim that you must feed a picky child the same food TEN TIMES before they like it. Does that mean I should make the same soup ten Mondays in a row? Or does a ten-times-dose of soup in general work? All I know is they are NOT fans. We at least have Matthew trained now: he knows that wrinkling his nose and announcing his disgust is unacceptable. So, while Zach is literally gagging, rolling his eyes, and proclaiming: “eeeewww, blech! Gross!” Matthew, with the fakest, most forced smile in history, voice dripping with phony-joy says, “Mmmm, this smells good.” Then he forces down a spoonful trying to hide his secret desire to spew. He follows his torture with a sarcasm-dripping, “Mmmm, I LIKE it.” Meanwhile, he’s shooting a look at Zach that says, “Dude. What have we done to deserve this? Why does she hate us so? How the heck do we get out of here alive?!”

Ahhh, I love Soup Night.

Voila! Finally pictures of the boys' new and improved joint-custody-shared room!

Hot chocolate. We can now add that to the list of items that Kara – my laptop – has been bathed in. Hot chocolate, red wine, Diet Pepsi and chocolate ice cream. Yes, these are a few of my favorite things. Kara! What a fighter!

Zach gave me a gift this morning; I didn’t realize it was a gift at the time, but now I know. He threw a total fit when we were trying to walk out the door for preschool (for him) and for the gym/spin class (for me). Zach is a strong-willed little mister. And lately he’s been rocking some serious attitude which includes, I’m horrified to report, a little bit of tongue-sticking-out action when he doesn’t get his way or is being reprimanded. So, this morning, he all of a sudden decides a new equation: preschool = torture. Now, I’m no good with the math, but I’m pretty sure that preschool does NOT = torture. As a matter of fact, preschool = rockin’ good times and typically Zach = a preschool-lovin’-boy. So, why today the sudden dislike for one of his favorite things?

Yesterday morning, when we arrived at preschool (in an absolute torrential downpour, I might add), there was a police car parked out front. The teachers, huddled under umbrellas, were approaching cars one by one. I knew this was not a good thing. The school (and church where the school is located) got broken into on Sunday night. As far as they could see the only thing stolen was our teachers’ new set of super-cool walkie-talkies. A bummer, but it could’ve been way worse. So, school was cancelled and Zach and I headed to the gym where he was super-pumped to run and play in the Kids’ Club. Apparently this morning, Zach decided preschool should be cancelled again because he wanted to go to the Kids’ Club with me.

The more I push him (especially if we’re in a hurry – which we were this morning), the more he resists. I don’t usually give into fits, but I did recognize that we were already running late, I didn’t want to just put him – kicking and screaming – in the car (making preschool feel like a forced, negative situation). Plus, getting to the gym late, means that Spin Class will already be full and I won’t get to do it anyway. I might as well, just wait, go to the gym after preschool (with Zach) and use this time as the gift that it is. Voila – the pumpkin spice latte and the marvelous surprise of some writing and reading time. Thanks, Zach!

And I need the writing time as I’ve failed to get up early for my “me time.” I’ve apparently made a horrendous mistake in buying new cozy flannel sheets for our bed. Our bed is so stinkin’ cozy that I’m just not able to get out of it. Literally. I’m not choosing to oversleep; it’s just happening. Today and yesterday I woke up closer to 7:30 (when my alarm was set for 5:45, and I need to get Matthew up at 7 to get him ready for the day). Aaah!! I love sleeping; I hate oversleeping. I don’t like the process of waking up early, and it’s particularly difficult now that it’s so dark in the morn. But once I’m up and I’ve had the “me time,” the whole day is off to a much better start. Darn the cozy sheets.

Sleep is always wonderful but it’s now, more than ever, a welcome respite from the boys. The boys. And the copying. The copying. They’ve learned that it’s annoying. They’ve learned that it’s annoying. And they’re doing it constantly. DOING IT CONSTANTLY!! And then it’s always followed with a “Stop copying me.” “Stop copying me.” “I said stop.” “I said stop.” But yet it just NEVER STOPS!!! NEV…OK, no I’m done. Must put an end to this copying madness. Copying mad….OK, it is actually pretty difficult to stop, I’ll give ‘em that.

This week, I’m looking forward to Thursday and my three-hour individual interview at the adoption agency. Three hours to talk about myself?! What if we run out of time? Mike’s three hour interview – next Monday – will probably be done in two hours.

We’ve completed the fingerprint scanning process (now we await, with baited breath, the results from the FBI). We still have a lot of house-proofing projects that we need to do, but we’ve done a lot of our big paperwork projects. We still have a finance report to do, and then we have family picture/story profiles that we make both for the agency/state workers and potential birth moms. That’ll be fun – I just have to remember to keep our family profile a BRIEF summary, not a three hundred page flowing prose piece. But they do tell us to do something a little different and original from the standard “Dear Birth Parent, we thank you for your gift…” The possibilities are endless! I’m thinking of maybe going the list-route: The Top Ten Reasons Why You Should Pick US!...what do you think?!

And then next month, we’ve got two weeks of class-madness: CPR/1st Aid on Monday and Tuesday night, then the PRIDE (Foster Licensing class) on that Thursday night, Friday night, all day Saturday; and then Mike leaves town for a work conference on Sunday, he gets back Thursday evening while I’m at class, and then the last class will be Friday. Meanwhile, I’m going to paint the baby room – two walls “Lilac Bouquet” and two walls a light pink called “Sweet Baby Girl.” Girly enough for ya? Hey, when you know you’re actually having a girl, why wouldn’t you paint with some “Sweet Baby Girl” pink?!

The deeper we delve into the adoption process, the more excited we get wondering just who and where our Sweet Baby Girl is. Can’t wait to meet her! Can’t WAIT to meet her! :)

[For the record: I know that book titles need to be underlined, but the Blog is only offering me an italics-version of life. I apologize.]

It amazes me that I never before made this connection – some of my very favorite stories and/or movies of all time are all based upon the theme of adoption. Annie, the musical (the version with Carol Burnett, Alan Finney, Bernadette Peters) was basically the soundtrack to my childhood. I played my cassette tape soundtrack to that movie to its breaking point. Even at the ever-so-mature-age of 13, when visiting my future all-girls high school, standing on the fourth floor, I peered down over the stair banister (seeing all the way to the basement below), and I could clearly picture our entire student body bursting into, “It’s a hard-knock life for us!” as we scrubbed the stairs and slid down the banister on dust cloth-butt-skateboards. And just the other day when I walked through a torrential downpour into the Montessori School where I teach, I dropped my bags of musical instruments on the floor (not a subtle or quiet gesture, mind you) and with a sweep of my arms, in my most robust chest-voice-belting burst out with a truly moving: “The sun’ll come out tomorrow!!!” (Um, it’s possible that I was slightly disruptive to the Montessori-genius-children who were hard at work, but whatevs, they needed a little sunshine in their day). And if that little orphan Annie doesn’t inspire you with her never-give-up plucky little red-headed self then nothing will!

How about one of my favorite books of all time?! Anne of Green Gables! Anne Shirley convinces sweet Matthew Cuthbert of Green Gables to pick her at the orphanage (instead of a strapping lad to help on the farm). Anne is the definition of pertinacious and strong-willed; making a life for herself.

Then there’s Heidi – an orphan who must go to live with her crotchety grandfather – who, in the end, of course, transforms both of their lives.

A Little Princess – Sara Crewe, a well to-do little rich girl, suddenly finds herself poor and alone.

Um, hello!

Harry Potter

, for crying out loud! Now, there’s an orphan who makes a name for himself.

The more unconventional adoption stories must also not go unnamed. Who could forget the moving story of Buddy the Elf? Buddy (Will Farrell) leaves the safe enclosure of his adopted home and adopted father Head Elf – Bob Newhart – at the North Pole and is forced to find his way in a mysterious land called New York while connecting with his cranky birth father, played by the gravelly-voiced James Caan. Obviously, Buddy the Elf has the added gift of Christmas magic and cheer on his side, but how can you not believe in miracles with this little flic?

Then there are the really, really unconventional adoption stories – where the strongest families and bonds are formed from the most unsuspecting parties. There was KoKo the gorilla who fell in love with a kitten named All Ball. The touching story of Owen the baby hippo and Mzee, a 130-year-old giant tortoise epitomizes the idea that love can be found in the most unexpected places. Owen was stranded in the terrible Indian Ocean tsunami that hit just after Christmas 2004. Owen was rescued and provided a home at Haller Park. The scared 650-pound hippo immediately grew attached to Mzee, cuddling and cowering behind the old male tortoise as if Mzee was a mama hippo.

More recently, I’ve been given a picture book that moves me to tears every time I read it: Horace. Horace is a spotted-cat that’s been adopted by striped-cat parents. He doesn’t understand why he looks different from the rest of his family. He even tries to connect his dots to turn them into stripes! After trying to find a place to fit in, Horace discovers that the very thing that makes him so different is what makes him so special.

As part of our adoption home study process, we’re required to read at least three books (or watch three videos) pertaining to adoption. Well, months ago I received a box full of adoption books from my aunt (who spent 40 years working in the adoption biz). So, while I’ve already done plenty of research on the topic, I never even realized that I’ve been preparing for the adoption my entire life. I’m not saying that knowing every word to all of the Annie lyrics makes me an expert or that rereading Anne of Green Gables every couple of years prepares me for raising an adopted daughter, but, well, it is extra credit and it sure couldn’t hurt!

First of all: whenever I see my list of 'followers,' it cracks me up that somehow I managed to become my own follower which just seems awfully pretentious and self-involved. But, if I remove myself (if I even figured out how) would that be indicating low self-esteem tendencies?

And it seems all of a sudden that my Blog is judging me, and I'm only allowed to post/view one entry at a time. Is it saying that I'm just a bit too wordy? Why can't I scroll down anymore to see previous entries? Can you? I have to click on "older post" to see my thoughts of yore and yesteryear (actually more like thoughts of 2 minutes ago...be sure to scroll down or make the commitment to click on "older post," as the "older posts" are actually quite new. Woah. Deep.)

I extend a most sincere thank you to my followers (those that aren't me 'cuz that'd be dumb and weird to be thanking myself for...following...myself).

I didn't realize I had so much blogging to do tonight! Be sure to scroll down and see 'older posts' since there's actually new stuff...

We’ve had some good times mingled with rough times in the last few days. We’ll start with the rough: we’re sick. Matthew woke up with a nasty cough-snot-fever combo on Wednesday. Then on Friday morning Zach started rockin’ the cough-snot-fever (would that be Cosnever? Cotver? I’m just trying to Bradgelina this sickness we’ve got to spice things up). Well, we kid-decongested the boys on Saturday morning so that we wouldn’t miss the Open House at our local fire station. Darn it, I’ve seen that sign up EVERY YEAR (since having kids and caring about things like Open Houses at fire stations) and not once have we been able to go. So, this was GOING to be the year.

We had a fabulous time. Matthew had drawn an amazing picture complete with aerial ladder fire truck, ambulance and burning building. He got to give it to the Captain who immediately put it up on the wall! The boys both got new firefighter helmets (although Zach went prepared wearing one we already had); they got to see all of the equipment and sit at the wheel of the fire engine and the ambulance. All very cool. I, however, was quite disappointed with our station’s lack of pole. Apparently most new fire stations are being built minus the pole as the pole could cause injury. They just have to go down the stairs at our station. They don’t even slide down the banister! (I asked). I suggested a twisty-slide. They seemed impressed with my idea. I will expect to see one installed next year at the Open House…though one of the firefighters told us that we don’t have to wait to the Open House – we can just stop on by any ‘ol time. Hmmm, this is a problem as we drive by the fire station everyday (it’s directly across from the entrance to our neighborhood). Matthew has reminded me of this firefighter’s kind offer EVERY time we’ve driven by. (“But Mom, remember he SAID we could!”).

When the boys were getting dressed for the big outing (both in fire truck-themed shirts), Mike and Zach had an interesting conversation (which I happened to hear from out in the hall and immediately wrote down); it went like this:

Mike: “You’re cute.”
Zach (very serious): “Yes, I know.”
Mike: “The girls are going to be all over you.”
Zach: “Yes, but they’re going to boss me around.”
Mike (laughing): “Oh really?”
Zach: “Yeah, ‘cuz they boss everybody around.”

Now, why Mike was telling our three-year-old that the girls are going to be all over him is beyond me. Take that one up with him. I guess we don’t need to be concerned as it sounds like Zach doesn’t care to even mingle with the bossy ladies at this point.

I just discovered this video while uploading photos. The boys were showing off their new pirate-themed pajamas. You can tell that they aren't camera shy.

I'm a bit behind on some updates...we 'did the Puyallup' (a big, annual fair) with the fam. We met up with my brother Tim and his wife Rebecca (as well as my parentals and brother Chris). The boys thought the Star Wars guys were so cool that they're both going to be Clone Troopers for Halloween.

Mike and I managed to say three things that probably top the Top Ten List of What Not To Say During a Home Study Visit With Your Adoption Specialist.

Joy arrived on Monday afternoon to a spotless home. We joked (she as well), that homes are always the cleanest on her first visit, then families realize she’s not actually here to judge our housekeeping skills, so they start living like normal people again. (Normal people actually HAVE dust in places and toys scattered about, for the record. I’m pretty sure they’ve done studies).

I heart Joy. She is AWESOME. She’s young, fun, totally down-to-earth. I had my completed Autobiography for her, plus another paper that isn’t required until later. She was VERY impressed with everything that we’ve gotten done already, and she started glancing over my autobio, and said, “Are you a writer?! This will be so much fun to read!” Why yes, yes, I am. Did I mention I heart Joy?!

As is the name of the game with this adoption stuff, Joy arrived with yet another packet full of paperwork for us. This one included the Holy Grail of adoption paperwork though – I might just put it in a padlocked, protective display case on the wall – it’s the Adoption CHECKLIST. Every single item/action that we’ll need to do to get a completed home study is listed and accounted for us complete with a place to put the date on when you completed it and a handy little box for your neat check mark. Ahhh, I love a good list. And I already got to cross off about a third of the items! Some of them – our CPR/First Aid class, PRIDE Foster Training class, Trans-Racial Awareness class – won’t be able to be crossed off until November and December when we’ve completed all the trainings. But at least we’ll have all of our stuff done by then.

OK, so the visit. This first one was just for us to have the chance to meet, Joy to deliver the paperwork packet and Mike and I had to fill out the background check/clearance forms (then we wait for those to get processed, THEN we get fingerprint cards, get fingerprinted, those get submitted to the FBI and that can take between a few weeks to a few months).

And now for the Top Ten List of What Not To Say During a Home Study Visit With Your Adoption Specialist. (Mike and I chose to only go for three on this first visit; we don’t want to over-impress her; we’ll save some for the future):

1.) Talking about something that criminals do: When discussing the fingerprinting process with us, Joy asked if either of work with our hands. Mike explained that he’s a software engineer and I said that I play the flute and shake shakers and stuff. Well, that’s all very nice and good, but what she meant was REALLY working with your hands like a masseuse or carpenter. Apparently people in very handy (haha) occupations can actually wear down their fingerprints over time and they don’t print and scan well. Huh! Who knew?! Well, Mike proceeds to add all nonchalantly, “I know that criminals sometimes dip their hands in acid to burn off their fingerprints.”…………………………………………………………………………………………….
(that would be the awkward silence that followed). OK, first of all, how do you even know that? WHY do you know that? And why would you admit, right now, in front of our home study/Adoption Specialist, that you know that?!! Great! She thinks that we run and mingle with acid-hand-dipping criminals. Excellent!
2.) Announcing that you’re a stalker: I have a kind of funny relationship going with Emily, one of the gals that works at the Amara Agency office. She was the first person to have the pleasure of receiving emails from me. These weren’t just ‘so how does your agency work’ kind of emails, these were detailed, lengthy emails with lists of questions, requests for statistics, etc. We’d done plenty of research into the adoption world already by the time we contacted Amara, so I knew what questions to ask. Some of my questions she couldn’t answer and had to ask of the agency director. Anyway, Emily has been very patient with me. I’ve spoken to her on the phone several times as well. The first time she called (to confirm our Pre-Application Interview), I joked with her about her last email which had said, “You’re coming up with SO MANY great questions!!” This was really just her nice way of saying, HOLY CRAP when will this crazy Jenny Martin lady stop asking me questions?!! She laughed and was, of course, very nice about it. Now whenever she calls we joke about how she sets aside extra time, etc. lest I keep her with more questions.
We’ve been in the agency building several times now and have seen pictures on the wall of all the staff members, so I knew what Joy and Emily both looked like. I proceeded to tell Joy, how great Emily’s been, and how I think I saw her leaving the building the last time we went for a class, because I’m a stalker and I’ve seen her picture a few of times and I know what she looks like…and I know where she lives. (OK, now that last part). Yes, I told our Adoption Specialist that I’m stalking an employee there. Stupdenous!
3.) Having no clue where your children are: When Joy stood up and was just about to leave, Mike suddenly looks around and says, “Where’s Zach?!” I give an uncomfortable little laugh and Joy tries to mask a look that clearly says: “Dude, you don’t even know where your kid is?!” I say to Mike – in an over-the-top joking way, “Haha. I thought YOU had him! Huh….real good, honey. Losing the kids like this. Ha…um…ha. He went to Andrea’s to play, remember?” Mike wrinkles his nose, trying to search his memory, “Oh yeah, now I remember.” Then as an explanation to Joy he says, “I was working on the computer downstairs. Anything can be going on around me when I’m working, and I wouldn’t notice.” Um, great! So, like the kids could be stolen. The house could be on fire. I can’t imagine why someone wouldn’t trust people like us with a kid! Wonderful!