The fallout from therapy

So we went to a therapist to talk about Tom adopting the kids. We spent probably the first half hour just getting aquatinted. She asked the kids what they were going to change their name to and what that meant. They were adamant about being just Owens and not Embrey-Owens. They explained to her why it was important and even that they knew that it meant who they were going to live with if something happened to me. She turns to me and says, "Well I don't see any problems or hesitations. What is your issue again?"

We sent the kids back to the lobby for a few minutes with some toys as I explain to her about the Father's Day catastrophe a few years ago. The kids were so excited Tom and I were dating that they made him a Father's Day coffee mug. They made one for X too and told him that they had given one to Tom. X flipped out and told the kids that if they ever called Tom "Dad" that he would never see them again. We have worked for years to help the kids recover from this. It wasn't until this year that they dropped "Tom" for "Daddie."

We talked about X and his lack of a relationship with the kids and how I thought that that might be the fuel for wanting to change their names. I was concerned that X would use it against them in a few years, despite his initial excitement about being off the hook for child support.

She brought the kids back into the room and dropped some really hard questions on them. She asked them about the Father's Day event to which both said they didn't remember anything. My stomach tensed as she asked, "How will X feel about you being adopted by Tom? What will you say if X talks bad about Tom after your adopted? How will X feel about you after you are adopted?"

Every fiber of my being just wanted to stand up and scream at her for asking such tough questions. I watched the kids squirm trying to figure out the right answer. They were clearly uncomfortable and they looked at me after each question for some clue. I fought to stay neutral, but I'm sure I failed. I was just as uncomfortable as they were. The only one with a decent poker face was Tom. Princess was silent and just agreed with everything Prince said. The therapist was very clear that the answer to X should be, "if that is how you feel, you should talk to mom." Prince's response was he didn't think that was fair because that meant he would be putting me in a tough position.

Ten years old and already the defender. "My dear little man, it is I who should protect you," I explained. I made it very clear that they were the kids. Their job was to learn, play and grow. Mom and Tom would deal with ANY problems or uncomfortable situations because that was our job.

The therapists dismissed us with, "They are happy, healthy children. I see no need to continue sessions. Congratulations." Ok clearly you weren't following along. I need therapy because of this therapy.

We go about our dinner and get ready for bed and Prince wants to talk. He says he doesn't feel like we talk that much and he had some questions for me. "Hit me," I joked. I should have been more clear about that because he asked to decoy questions about my favorite ice cream and favorite game to play and then snuck in, "What if X won't let Tom adopt us just because he doesn't like Tom?"

BAM.

Thinking in my head- well you haven't seen him in a year, we can just file for abandonment- while my mouth said, "He might. That is why we are going to ask him and find out how he feels before we adopt you. X might be scared or feel left out. Maybe he has questions and we need to answer those so he feels ok with this change too." My best ventriloquist act if I do say so myself.

"Well I feel that he is just moving away from the family. We have to keep telling him that we have two dogs and our own room. He doesn't remember anything about our life. And we don't really see him," Prince continues.

I wonder... If you call 911, can they rush a therapist out to the house in an ambulance or something? Clearly this is an emergency.

"Well X makes different choices than we do. You are seeing a different way of life from the way we are raising you. That doesn't make it wrong, just be aware of how it feels because you will see it again in other people. He absolutely loves you. And I know that he thinks about you more often than he talks to you. He doesn't have his life together yet. I am the one who won't let you go stay with him if he doesn't have his own house and a car, but he chooses to live in a different state so that he can't spend time with you on the weekends and stuff. I don't have his phone number or address so we can't call or write when you feel like it, but I think that the next time you talk to him you should tell him what YOU need. Right now, he calls when HE wants to. You need to tell him want YOU want him to do and then it will be up to him to choose to do it. At least you will have made sure he knows what you want," I carefully explained.

He nodded and then we talked about Yughio cards until bedtime. I went to go lay on the couch and unload on my personal therapist, Tom. We agree the issue isn't about whether or not we adopt, but how we manage X and the kids afterwards.

Lifelong therapy here we come.

Wedding in 72 days

On July 25th, 2010 we are eloping in Las Vegas. Just a little ceremony and a nice honeymoon on the beaches of Orange County, CA. Second weddings, in my opinion shouldn't be a big production. We want to celebrate our family without punishing our friends by putting together a wedding in less than 3 months and expecting them to drop everything to be there. Here's the plan...

Tom divided up the responsibilities so we have a clear plan of action. He is in charge of travel, hotels and bikinis. I am in charge of the "ceremony and stuff."

Ceremony

Our wedding destination is the Seven Sisters in Valley of Fire state park. Princess couldn't fathom why we were not getting married in a church. I told her that millions of years ago that desert was part of the ocean. Over time it has seen all kinds of life, from dinosaurs and sharks to the bats and lizards that now call it home. All of those rocks were shaped over time and yet they still stand strong, just like Tom and myself. We've changed, adapted and we are stronger and smarter now than we were before. "Oh. Ok. Will you bring me back a rock?" she replied. And with that my wedding planner was on board with my idea.

I have the driver, photographer, videographer and minister lined up. I will have the video uploaded to the web within a couple of days so everyone can watch.

And stuff

With Princess's blessings, I have picked out a dress. I love this style and have ordered one in ivory. Hopefully it will be here by the end of the month so I can have any last minute alterations done when we have Tom's suit altered.

Yes, I realize that I would have to have at least two ribs removed in order to look that good, but fear not, I have been going to the gym 3 times a week.... and I photoshop.

Princess has been the BEST shopping guide ever. She was more than willing to give me her opinions and patiently waited while I tried a couple on. Then it was her turn.

And here is the flower girl dress she picked out. It is not by accident that her dress is similar to mine, hence the nickname "mini-me."

We've picked out the rings and are going to give them to the children for safe keeping until it is time for us to leave. They think it is so cool that they are the "guardians" of the rings. Let's hope that in their effort to protect the rings that they don't hide them where we can't find them.

Tom and I will also be presenting the kids with some gifts, small tokens to represent the new family we are forming. Princess and I are getting matching charm bracelets to mark the some of the milestones of our lives with room to celebrate those moments yet to come. We are not really sure what to get Prince. Tom is thinking maybe a ring since he was very drawn to one when we went ring shopping.

More stuff

The kids are going to stay in Memphis and as a special treat, we have Tom's niece, Kate, flying down in the middle of July. She will stay with us for a week so we can show her around Memphis and after this brief introduction it will be up to her to how she wants to blow out the last week of summer while we are gone. We've planned for trips to the pool, skate rink, park, movies, bowling and even the zoo. Trust me, living with Kate will be so cool that kids won't even notice that we're gone.

Even though we are eloping, we want this to be special for the kids, but they are not interested in standing around for a ceremony. They just want to party, so once we get back we are going to throw a small celebration at the house so the kids get to break the news to their friends. It's going to be a cross between "ya, my parents got married" and "the last weekend of summer extravaganza." The following weekend we are going to do some "family wedding portraits" because in our months of talking about this, we have discovered it's all about the pictures. The kids want to get really dressed up and have pictures with Tom and I in our wedding gear.

Slowly but surely everything is coming together.

Headed to school and oh so cool!

The kids loved having the rarest silly bandz in their schools and they are refusing to tell anyone where they came from.

So far, they haven't found another silly bandz they wanted bad enough to trade one of theirs for.

Note how Princess has hers sorted by color and how Prince has his spread all the way up his arm.

It's interesting to hear the stories about the social dynamics at school around these colored rubber bands. One girl has a ton of silly bandz and despite how cool Prince's are, she make sure that everyone knows she has more.

While at karate practice, a 3 year old came up to Princess and asked for one of her silly bandz. Princess almost reluctantly gave one up and I praised her for the sacrifice. The child broke the band within a few minutes and Princess almost started to cry. With some comforting she was able to regain her composure, but that might be the last silly bandz that is ever donated.

Ms. Dennis visits

Thank goodness Ms. Dennis, Princess's second grade teacher, planned in advance for total boredom at home during her one week absence from school and had the whole class make get well soon cards.

It really helped her to have something that she could read over and over again. She knew all of her friends were thinking of her and wishing her back to class soon. On top of that, Ms. Dennis emailed me the week before and planned a special trip to the house to visit her before she came back to school.

I pretended to call Princess down for another round of medicine and as she came down the stairs she spotted her beloved teacher. She was so surprised and so excited. There was no keeping her calm, but I figured it was ok to just let her have this moment.

Ms. Dennis asked for a tour of the house and Princess turned into a real estate agent before my eyes and gave her the grand tour. She opened what seemed like every cabinet door and showing off even the rooms I hadn't cleaned. The tour wasn't complete without a viewing of the "secret trash can." I had no idea that the small waste bucket in the cabinet under the stove held such value.

Ms. Dennis's favorite room? The room fit for a princess no doubt. Her majesty was ready for her teacher to move right in and even pulled out the hide-away bed for her.

Ms. Dennis is not only an incredible teacher, she is just a wonderful person to be around. Her energy and happiness was contagious. In her short visit to our house, she raised all of our spirits. She had so much love in her heart that Prince even got to squeeze in a hug or two.

Our little girl was so happy to have her teacher visit her house. The visit wore her out, but is was oh so worth it.

The transition to living tonsil free

The morning of Princess's surgery, we checked in and were given a beeper with 4 lights on it. The first was "check in". The second was "patient doing fine". The third was "come to recovery" and the fourth was "check out". Simply enough. With beeper in hand we went to the waiting room and tried to not be nervous in the growing crowd.

Princess stared at the beeper for 20 minutes until it finally vibrated and glowed to life, at which point she took off running for the intake door. Never mind good ol' mom who needed to gather the backpack full of stuffed animals and blankets that Princess INSISTED on bringing. Thank goodness the nurse stopped her at the door and gave me a chance to catch up before we proceeded to the lounge area where they took her vitals and briefed us on the procedure.

We met the entire staff of nurses and doctors and they did everything they could to answer our questions and make us feel comfortable.

Princess, in her favorite penguin jammies and robe, picked out dangly earrings as her anesthesia prize. It was like the doctor's knew her deepest desires and was going to make this whole process worthwhile.















We added the prize to the backpack and changed into her surgical gown. The nurse took her hand and led her into the other room and I returned to the waiting room where it was my turn to stare at the beeper and wait for the "patient doing fine" button to come to life.

As I waited, other doctors came out to meet family members and give the status report on their loved ones. I couldn't help but keep glancing at the beeper waiting for my good news. Maybe 20 minutes had passed when they called my name over the intercom and I gathered up the backpack and reported to the front desk.

The nurse at the counter asked me to wait in a small room off to one side of the entrance and informed me that the doctor would be with me shortly. The room was all white with four chairs and a small table. No decorations, no windows and only one door. I went in, sat down and continued to wait. As a nurse passed by, she saw me in the room and stopped to shut the door. I looked down at the beeper and still no "patient doing fine" light. That's when the panic set in. This was the "bad news room." I wasn't going to get a "patient doing fine" light.

I texted Tom the new status as fast as I could trying to beat the tears that were forming in my eyes. Tom, ever practical, assured me that she hadn't been back long enough to really even get started with the procedure. I tried to breathe and remember that they just needed more time to hit the "patient doing fine" button.

The funny thing about fear is that it slows down time. It's true. What seemed like hours passed. I became aware of how hot the room was and of how thirsty I had become. Maybe they were hoping I passed out before they had to give me the bad news.

At last, a fresh burst of air came into the room as the doctor opened the door with his arm full of papers and folders. It took everything I had to sit still and not start screaming at him. I took one more glance at the beeper. Still no "patient doing fine" light. I bit my lip as he sat down and started talking.

The first words out of his mouth saved his life, "Oh she is doing just fine, Mom. What a little angel you have." I started breathing again and he proceeded to explain the schedule and the medicines that would be our lives for the next two weeks.

And then I got to see her.















She was a little angel. She didn't cry or freak out. We used some of the sign language that we had practiced for two weeks so that I knew when she wanted water or when she was cold. She was heavily medicated for a couple of hours, but did a great job drinking fluids and even ate a popsicle while in the recovery room. The white thing on her neck was actually an ice pack. She insisted on her blue bandage being in this picture. They just used the bandage to cover up where the IV entered her arm, but it was a badge of honor for her. After a couple of hours we were sent home. I never did get the "patient doing fine" light, or any other light for that matter. I carefully explained that there was room for imporovement on their customer satisfaction survey.

I was so excited to see her eat spaghetti that night. I was prepared for her to not want to eat, but seeing her suck down noodles warmed my heart. Just gave me hope that she was going to recover faster than expected.

For the next 14 days we lived by this schedule. Pain medicine every 4 hours. It was like having a newborn again. What a great reminder why I am not having any more children. After 3 days, we were able to make it for longer periods of time without medicine.



















Day one after her surgery. While she was feeling much better she wasn't really able do anything. I went out and got her some fake press on nails. They were suppose to change color in the sunlight, but didn't. She still liked them.



















The second day of recovering, she was talking my ears off so I decided to take her up to the school to get her assignments so we could do them at home. The short trip to the school and back home turned out to be too much for her. She almost fell asleep at the table while eating lunch. I felt so horrible. I completely overestimated how much this minor procedure had taken out of her.

The two weeks of recovery dragged on. You can only watch so many movies and so much tv despite Prince's desire to test that theory. Princess lived off of applesauce, scrambled eggs, pancakes, protein drinks and sherbet. I caught her on more than one occasion standing at the window watching her brother ride his bike with the neighborhood kids while she looked on. I felt so bad for her. The next morning it was Prince who broke down and cried at daycare because he didn't think it was fair that she got a whole week off of school and all this special attention while she was recovering.

One the plus side, she is maxing out her levels on her Facebook games, Club Penguin and Pop Tropica. I offered to have Prince's tonsils taken out as well, but he turned that down.

Princess was so happy to return to school. Since she was still recovering, she wasn't able to go on the field trip to the Memphis Zoo, but I plan to make that up to her in a big way.

Climbing the social ladder.

I remember when I was about 7 that all I really wanted was one of those stupid plastic charm necklaces. My mother simply refused to understand the life or death nature of owning one of these priceless gems.

It took me a year, but she finally broke down and I was the last child in the free world to own one. The next day, it was like everyone decided they weren't cool any more and quit wearing them.

Isn't that they way all trends go?

For my kids, it is the silly banz. Rubber bands cut into different shapes that you wear on your arm.

The kids' friends took pity on my children and donated the ones they didn't like to Prince and Princess and they were treasured as though they were made of gold. Like my mother, I can't believe that rubber bands are selling for $10 because they are dyed and shaped like little animals, but I also remember wanting to belong. It seemed so simple and yet unattainable all at the same time.

So I ordered the coolest authentic bandz I could find. For Princess, she got the rock and roll collection. Twenty-four bands that screamed coolness, teenager and ultimate silly bandz glory.

For Prince, it was the fantasy collection so he could have a dragon. Turns out the Phoenix has more "kid value" since no one in his school has one yet. And for ultimate trading action, the unicorn and fairy shapes glow in the dark.

I was hoping to keep it a secret and surprise them, but after a week of begging and pleading for me to take them to the store so they could buy some, I broke down and showed them what I had ordered. They were instantly happy and fought who got to check the mailbox for the next three days.

How could this possibly go wrong?

Princess bandz came in first... and Prince was devastated. She carefully counted them out and endearingly stroked each design. Prince just watched with anger filling his young face. I tried to assure him, but he just wanted to know when his were coming. Turns out that he had already told one of the "cool" kids what he was getting and she called him a liar. He just wanted to prove her wrong. Princess offered her cool bandz and Prince refused. He did not want to go to school without the bandz he swore he was getting.

The next day (the longest school day in the history of recorded time) his bandz come and there was light at the end of the tunnel. It was his turn to inspect each one for the status perfection they were about to bring him in the world of middle school. When I dropped him off at school this morning, he had carefully sorted the bandz on his arm into the ones he wouldn't trade and the ones he wanted to make sure everyone saw.

It was a good morning.

A growing family

And no I'm not pregnant.

We have been talking wedding plans for what seems like weeks now. The kids are over it and can't figure out why we aren't married already. We have been very careful to take notes and make sure that the wedding/reception/marriage meets their expectations.

In yet another round of finalizing the plans, we reviewed with the itinerary with the kids... one more time. We got to the part where I changed my name and it was like simultaneous light bulbs went off.

"When are we going to change our names?" says Prince.

I slow down time with a long blink. You know the kind where you take in a breath, count to 10 and let it out then open your eyes to see if the world is still how you remembered it.

Princess chimes in, "I want to change my name too."

Still processing. I will be with you shortly.

Tom sees that this is going to take me another minute or two and comes to the rescue, "We can do that. What that means is that I will adopt you. Is that what you want?"

"Then we'll be all one big family!" Prince exclaims. "Well, we will be a family even if you don't change your name," Tom explains.

Ya, I'm still processing.

They roll the idea around at the dinner table for a few more minutes while I think this through. I mean this is great! They are really on board with Tom and I getting married. They are really ready for this family. I couldn't be happier, but this was a little... out of the blue. And I never trust that.

Do they understand what changing their name means? I realize it sounds fun, but there is a whole lot of legal that goes along with that and is a 10 or 8 year old really old enough to understand?

Does allowing them to make this life decision at such an early age set them up to regret it later?

If this is what they truly want and we don't let them, are we sending the message that it isn't important or that we don't think that what they want is valid?

How is this going to affect their relationship with X?

Now take into consideration that in the past two years, I have emailed him reminders to call, and he has done that... twice. He hasn't laid eyes on them since his two hour visit for Prince's birthday last September. One visit in 1.5 years. Maybe my concern is if he going to use this against them? As an excuse as to why he isn't involved in there life.

Is his lack of contact and my changing my name making the kids feel like the have to change their name so that they aren't left behind?

As dinner ends and we clean the table, Princess pulls me aside all tells me that she needs to talk to me in private. So we go to my room, close the door and get cozy on the bed. Her concern? She didn't want to be put up for adoption and have to go live in a foster home.

Double WOW. Of all the things I didn't see coming.

We talked about it for a little bit, but what I realized most through tonight's events is that I am just not the one that can help them with this decision. I mean I would do anything for them, but they need a neutral third party to talk this through. I want this too bad. I want them to feel loved, to belong. To have the father that they need, the father that I know Tom would be for them. But that doesn't mean that they have to change to have all of that.

Sometimes, even with the best of intentions, we can make the wrong decisions. I can't make the wrong one on this.